70 pages • 2-hour read
Christine de PizanA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of graphic violence, illness and death, death by suicide, and gender discrimination.
Lady Rectitude introduces herself to Christine and explains her role: to construct the houses and buildings inside the city walls. She tells Christine to “mix mortar” in her inkpot and “build” with strokes of her pen. Rectitude introduces the city’s first inhabitants: The 10 wise Sibyls. The name “Sibyl” means “one who is privy to the thoughts of God” (92) and is a title rather than a personal name. These pagan prophetesses were granted the holy spirit of prophecy by God, allowing them to speak of future events, including the coming of Christ. All 10 remained virgins throughout their lives. Rectitude names them, saying that they all eventually repudiated paganism.
Rectitude states that, of all the Sibyls, Erythrea was the most far-sighted. She recounted the destruction of Troy, wrote a true account of the Roman empire, and explicitly predicted the birth of Jesus. She prophesied Christ’s life, death, resurrection, ascension, the descent of the Holy Spirit, and the Day of Judgement. Citing Boccaccio, Rectitude says Erythrea’s talents prove God loved her and she should be honored above all women except the Christian saints. She concludes that Erythrea must have remained a virgin in order to have such powers.
Rectitude discusses Almathea, the Cumaean Sibyl from Campania, who lived from the time of Troy’s destruction to the reign of Tarquin the Proud. Some called her Deiphobe. A virgin her whole life, she was blessed with exceptional gifts of prophecy. Almathea came to Rome carrying nine prophetic books, which she offered to sell to King Tarquin. When he refused her price, she burned three books in front of him. She then offered the remaining six for the same original price, threatening to burn three more if he refused. King Tarquin then paid her the original price she had requested. These books contained a full account of the future deeds of the Romans and were stored in the emperors’ treasury, consulted as a divine oracle. Rectitude points out how God favored this woman, allowing her to counsel all future Roman rulers.
Rectitude states there were many prophetesses besides the 10 Sibyls. From the Jewish faith, she cites Deborah, who delivered Israel from the king of Canaan. Elizabeth recognized Mary as the mother of Jesus before Mary revealed her pregnancy. Anna recognized the infant Jesus as the savior when Mary presented him at the altar, just as the prophet Simeon did. Rectitude tells of the learned Queen of Sheba, who traveled a great distance to test Solomon’s wisdom.
Rectitude recalls the prophetess Nicostrata, who prophesied on Mount Palatine that a great city (Rome) would be built there. She tells of Cassandra, daughter of King Priam of Troy, a learned prophetess who foresaw the destruction of Troy and wept, imploring her father and brothers to make peace with the Greeks. Her family did not believe her, calling her mad, beating her, and locking her away. Her prophecies came true, and they regretted their actions too late. Rectitude also tells of Queen Basine, wife of King Childeric of France. On their wedding night, she persuaded Childeric to look out the window instead of consummating the marriage. He saw three successive visions: great beasts like unicorns, leopards, and lions; bears and wolves attacking each other; and dogs and small creatures tearing each other apart. Basine explained that these visions represented their descendants, the successive generations of French princes, and their temperaments. Rectitude concludes that God often reveals secret truths through women.
Rectitude tells of Antonia, the lover of the Emperor Justinian, who saw a great eagle shield his face from the sun with its wings. Interpreting this as a sign he would become emperor, she made him promise to marry her if it came true. Justinian laughed but agreed, and they exchanged rings. Shortly after, Justinian became Emperor. Justinian led his army to a great victory against the Persians. Upon his return, Antonia appeared before him on his throne, disguised as a humble petitioner, and asked for justice against a man who had betrothed himself to her. The emperor ruled that the man must keep his word. Antonia produced his ring as proof, and Justinian, realizing he had condemned himself, kept his promise and married her.
Christine asks Rectitude why husbands and wives are often unhappy when they have a daughter instead of a son. Rectitude replies that such people are ignorant and identifies the main reasons: The cost of a dowry and fear that a daughter may be led astray by men. She argues that proper upbringing ensures good morals and that sons are often just as or more expensive than daughters, considering the costs of their education, their spending on vices, and the “anguish” they cause. Rectitude quotes Petrarch, who said children can be one’s deadliest enemies, wishing for a parent’s death to inherit their wealth. She states there are more unworthy sons than daughters and that daughters are more likely to stay home and care for aging parents. Rectitude uses Christine as an example, noting she stayed to care for her mother while her brothers went into the world. She concludes by stating she will now tell stories of daughters who showed great love for their parents.
Rectitude tells of Drypetina, Queen of Laodicea and daughter of King Mithradates. Extremely devoted to her father, she followed him into all his battles. She preferred to share her father’s hardships during wartime rather than live safely and comfortably in her own realm. She did not abandon him even after his defeat by Pompey, but cared for him with great dedication.
Rectitude tells of Hypsipyle, who saved her father, Thoas, King of Lemnos. When his subjects rebelled, Hypsipyle hid him in one of her trunks. The rebels threatened to kill her if she did not reveal his location, promising to make her queen if she cooperated. Hypsipyle convinced them he had already fled and the rebels made her their queen. She later let her father out at night and sent him overseas to safety but was deposed when her subjects discovered what she had done.
Rectitude tells of Claudine, a virgin dedicated to the goddess Vesta. Her father, a Roman prince, was attacked by an enemy Roman lord attacked him. Claudine leaped from her chariot and thrust herself in front of the swords drawn against her father. She seized the man nearest to him by the throat and fought to defend her father with all her might until the crowd intervened. The Romans highly praised and honored Claudine for her deed.
Rectitude tells of a Roman woman whose mother was condemned to die of starvation in prison. The daughter obtained permission to visit her mother daily, though she was searched to ensure she brought no food. When the mother survived much longer than expected, jailers discovered the daughter was breastfeeding her mother. The jailers informed the judges, who, moved by compassion, set the mother free. Rectitude mentions the good and wise Griselda, later marchioness of Saluzzo, who cared for her father, Giannucolo when he was poor and ill.
Rectitude declares that the building is well underway and the city has plentiful housing, royal palaces, and defense towers. It is time to fill the city with inhabitants. She calls the city a new “Realm of Femininiia” that will last for all time (107). Once the city is populated, her sister, Lady Justice, will arrive with its queen. The city must be full of excellent ladies to receive the queen with all honors. Rectitude specifies that the citizens will all be valiant ladies of great renown. She and Christine set out to find these ladies.
While walking to find inhabitants for the city, Christine asks Rectitude if it is women’s fault that the married state is difficult for me because “women are impossible to live with” (108). She cites Theophrastus’s view that a wise man should not marry because women cause trouble and lack affection. Rectitude replies that such books were not written by women and that a factual book on marriage would present a different view. She argues that many women suffer greatly in marriage to brutish husbands who beat and insult them. Christine agrees she has seen many women treated this way. Rectitude dismisses Theophrastus’s claim that a servant is a better caretaker than a wife, stating that countless wives serve their husbands with loving care. She acknowledges that not all husbands are bad and that some wives are willful, but states these are a minority.
Rectitude tells of Hypsicratea, wife of King Mithradates, who stayed by his side while he waged wars. Despite the king having other concubines, she loved him so deeply she followed him into battle. After Mithradates was defeated by Pompey and abandoned by his men, his wife Hypsicratea stayed with him. She comforted him in his despair, lifting his spirits with kind words and amusing games. Her efforts made him feel as if he were at home in his palace rather than in exile.
Rectitude likens Empress Triaria to Hypsicratea for her great affection for her husband, Emperor Lucius Vitellius. Triaria loved him so deeply that she followed him everywhere, dressed as a knight. During the war against Vespasian, Triaria engaged in combat at his side, accomplishing extraordinary feats. Rectitude notes that Boccaccio approved of her actions, seeing them as a symbol of the bond between husband and wife.
Rectitude returns to Artemisia, Queen of Caria, as an example of a wife’s great love. After her husband King Mausolus died and was cremated, she mixed the ashes with liquid and drank them, believing his remains should have no other sepulcher than her own body. She also resolved to build a magnificent sepulcher to preserve his memory forever. She commissioned a huge, exquisite marble tomb outside Halicarnassus. The monument became one of the seven wonders of the world and was called a mausoleum after Mausolus, with all subsequent royal tombs taking the same name.
Rectitude tells of Argia, wife of Polynices. Hearing her husband lay unburied after battle, Argia traveled for several days to the battlefield. Ignoring many dangers, she searched until she found her husband’s disfigured body. She showed no disgust, but covered him in kisses, washed his limbs with her tears, and lamented his death. She burned his body on a pyre and collected his ashes in a golden vessel. To avenge his death, she and the other ladies of Argos captured the city of Thebes and put all those inside to death.
Rectitude tells of Agrippina, wife of Germanicus. When the envious Emperor Tiberius had Germanicus murdered. Agrippina screamed such terrible curses at Tiberius that he had her beaten, tortured, and imprisoned. Her grief was so great that she decided to starve herself to death. Tiberius tried to force-feed her but she died, proving that while he had the power to kill, he did not have the power to keep someone alive against their will.
Christine mentions Theophrastus’s claim that women hate old husbands. Rectitude immediately refutes this with the example of Julia wife of Pompey. Despite Pompey being elderly and decrepit while Julia was still very young, she loved him deeply. One day, Julia saw a robe of Pompey’s splattered with blood and mistakenly thought her had been killed. She fell into a faint and died. Rectitude notes that her death was devastating, and if she and her unborn child had lived, the catastrophic war between Caesar and Pompey might have been avoided.
Rectitude cites Tertia Emilia, the young and beautiful wife of the elderly Scipio Africanus the Elder. When she discovered that her husband was regularly sleeping with one of her enslaved handmaidens, she chose not to criticize him but continued to love, serve, and honor him just as before. After Scipio’s death, she gave the handmaiden her freedom and married her to a free man. Christine interjects, saying she has seen modern women act with similar kindness, citing the recently deceased countess of Coëmen from Brittany as an example.
Rectitude tells of Xanthippe, the wise and virtuous wife of the great philosopher Socrates. Though Socrates was very old and spent more time with his books than with her, Xanthippe loved him deeply for his wisdom and goodness. When the Athenians sentenced Socrates to death for attacking their idol worship, she rushed to the palace where he was being held and tried to save him. Socrates chided her and tried to comfort her, accepting the sentence of death.
Rectitude tells of Pompeia Paulina, the young and beautiful wife of the old philosopher Seneca. She loved him dearly and dedicated herself to serving him and creating a tranquil place for him to work. When she learned that Emperor Nero had sentenced Seneca to bleed to death, she screamed obscenities at Nero in an attempt to provoke the same punishment. Struck down with grief at her husband’s death, she outlived him by only a short time. Christine interrupts, citing the daughter of a Breton baron who was given in marriage to the valiant but old and ugly Constable of France, Bertrand du Guesclin, and loved him deeply. Rectitude agrees to tell more stories of devoted wives.
Rectitude tells of Sulpicia, wife of the Roman nobleman Lentulus Cruscello, who was sentenced to exile and poverty. Sulpicia, a very wealthy lady, preferred to follow her husband into penury and banishment than live in luxury without him. Christine interjects with contemporary examples: wives who follow husbands with leprosy into isolation, and wives who refuse to leave abusive husbands, insisting they intend to live and die at their husbands’ side.
Rectitude tells of knights from Orchomenos who settled in Lacedaemonia and married local high-born women. When the knights were sentenced to death for conspiracy, the wives devised a plan to save their husbands. They dressed in old clothes, bribed the guards to let them visit, and once inside, exchanged clothes with their husbands. The husbands walked out of the prison, mistaken by the guards for the women leaving. On the day of the execution, the trick was discovered. Everyone was amazed by the wives’ cleverness.
Christine asks Rectitude about the common saying that women are incapable of keeping secrets. Rectitude replies that a sensible man should judge his wife’s trustworthiness, and if she is dependable, she can be trusted more than any other creature. As an example, she tells of Brutus, who confided his plan to kill Julius Caesar to his wife, Portia. Portia tried to dissuade him but kept his secret. She deliberately cut her hand deeply, telling Brutus she had done it to find out how to kill herself should any harm come to him. After Brutus was exiled and subsequently killed for assassinating Caesar, Portia was so distraught she ended her own life.
Rectitude speaks of Curia, wife of Quintus Lucretius, who was warned that he was condemned to death. Curia hid him in between the walls in their house so he could not be found. She put on a convincing act of grief, running through the streets dressed in rags with her face streaked with tears, searching everywhere for her lost husband. Her act convinced everyone, and she saved her husband from both exile and death.
Rectitude gives one final example on women keeping secrets faithfully. During Emperor Nero’s reign, men plotting to assassinate him met at the house of a woman they trusted, discussing their plot in front of her. A spy overheard their plans and informed Nero. Nero questioned her at great length about the plot, but she refused to tell him anything, despite being offered rewards and subjected to prolonged torture.
Christine expresses amazement that some people claim only a “stupid idiot” listens to his wife’s advice. Rectitude replies that men with responsible wives are fools if they refuse to trust them. She tells of men who suffered the consequences of not listening to their spouses. If Julius Caesar had trusted his wife, who had a terrible dream foretelling his assassination and begged him not to go to the senate, he would not have been killed. Pompey’s second wife, Cornelia, tried to dissuade him from separating from his men when they arrived in Egypt, suspecting a trap by King Ptolemy. He ignored her and was murdered by traitors. Hector of Troy’s wife, Andromache, had a dream that he would be killed in battle and begged him not to fight. He took no notice, believing it would be dishonorable to heed a woman’s advice, and was killed by Achilles. Rectitude concludes that men who met a bad end for dismissing their wives’ advice have only themselves to blame.
Rectitude will now give examples of men who benefited from heeding their wives’ counsel. Emperor Justinian sent the knight Belisarius on an impossible mission against the Vandals due to the plots of envious barons. His wife, Antonia, who was the emperor’s sister, devised a clever two-pronged attack. She took half the army and attacked from the sea while Belisarius attacked by land. Their strategy led to a great victory. When Belisarius fell out of favor a second time and the emperor was deposed, Antonia advised him to reinstate the emperor, which he did, proving his loyalty.
King Alexander, having been poisoned, was on the verge of throwing himself into a river to end his torment. His wife advised him to go to his bed and give his last orders as befitted an emperor. He took her advice, dying with dignity.
Christine notes that men claim women have brought only evil into the world. Rectitude replies that the opposite is true and that no man can match the services women have done for humanity. She reminds Christine of earthly benefits like inventions and spiritual benefits like the Virgin Mary opening the gates of paradise. She tells the story of Moses, who brought the law to the Hebrews, who was rescued as a baby and fed by a Jewish wetnurse. Rectitude concludes that, thanks to the woman who saved Moses, much good came to the Jews.
Rectitude tells of Judith. When Holofernes, general of Nebuchadnezzar II, was besieging the Jews, Judith went with her maid servant to Holofernes’s camp. Holofernes was delighted by her beauty and became entranced by her. Judith agreed to sleep with him on the condition he send his men away from his tent. Once he was asleep, she cut off his head. The next morning, the Jews impaled the head on the city walls and launched a surprise attack on the enemy camp, capturing and killing them. Thus, Judith delivered the people of Israel from Holofernes.
When King Ahasuerus was incited to kill his Jewish subjects, the woman Esther dressed in her finest clothes and presented herself to the king, who was so delighted by her that he offered her any favor she wished. She threw herself at his feet and begged him to take pity on her people and not put all her kin to death. Rectitude concludes that, as with Judith, God elected a woman to save His people, mentioning Deborah as another example.
Rectitude tells how, after the founding of Rome, Romulus and his men needed wives, but neighboring peoples refused to give them their daughters. Romulus staged a tournament and, on his signal, his knights abducted the Sabine women who had come to watch. Romulus married the Sabine king’s daughter, and his knights married the other women. This event caused a five-year war. As the two armies prepared for a decisive battle, the Sabine queen gathered all the abducted women. She led them, with their babies and children, onto the battlefield between the two armies. The women fell to their knees and begged their fathers, kinsmen, and husbands to make peace or else trample them to death. Moved, the soldiers on both sides threw down their weapons. Romans and Sabines embraced and made peace, thanks to the good sense and bravery of the queen and her ladies.
Rectitude tells of Veturia, a noblewoman of Rome and mother Marcius. After defeating the Coriolans and being nicknamed Coriolanus, Marcius became so powerful that the Romans exiled him. He avenged himself by leading the Coriolans in a devastating attack on Rome. In desperation, ladies of Rome asked Veturia to intercede. Veturia led a procession of women to see Marcius; as a dutiful son, he dismounted and greeted her with humility, telling her she should command him, not beg him. Thanks to her, the Romans were saved from harm.
The transition from Part 1 to Part 2 marks a structural and thematic shift in the allegorical construction of the book-city: Where Lady Reason established the city’s foundations by refuting slanders against women’s innate capacity, Lady Rectitude begins constructing the “houses and buildings” by focusing on women’s moral character and virtue. This progression from capability to character is a deliberate rhetorical strategy, as Christine proves that women possess the same intellectual and physical potential as men before demonstrating that they embody virtues often claimed exclusively by or for men. The city’s internal structures—homes, palaces, and temples—are built from exempla of female piety, loyalty, and integrity. This metaphor reinforces the theme of Misogyny and Proto-Feminism as Alternative Narratives and becomes explicit in Rectitude’s command to Christine: “[M]ix the mortar well in your inkpot and set to on the masonry work with great strokes of your pen” (91), directly linking the labor of construction with the labor of writing.
Part 2 explicitly addresses specific misogynistic tropes, particularly those surrounding marriage and female constancy, in order to promote Virtue as the Natural Feminine State. Rectitude directly confronts the anti-matrimonial tradition, represented by the classical author Theophrastus, by citing women who exemplify unwavering devotion. The stories of wives like Hypsicratea, who disguises herself as a knight to follow her husband into battle, and Artemisia, who famously drinks her husband’s ashes, are presented as powerful illustrations of female love. By cataloging these examples, Christine refutes the idea that women are inherently shrewish, faithless, or a burden to their husbands. Rectitude’s argument that “if one wanted to write a new book on the question of marriage by gathering information based on the facts, one would come up with a very different set of views [from male sources]” (109) forms part of her argument that traditional depictions of women are based on assumption or prejudice rather than evidence. By suggesting that this female narrative is more reasonable and evidenced than male versions, the book reclaims the traditionally male-gendered skill of empirical judgment.
Christine expands the definition of female authority by beginning her catalogue of inhabitants with pagan figures, most notably the 10 Sibyls. Placing these pre-Christian prophetesses in the city’s most honored positions serves a dual purpose. First, it establishes a lineage of female wisdom and spiritual insight that exists independently of, yet is compatible with, Christian theology; Rectitude is careful to note that the Sibyls prophesied the coming of Christ with greater clarity than the Old Testament prophets. Second, it challenges the exclusively male, clerical control over divine interpretation prevalent in the medieval Church. This is another example of Christine’s deployment of authoritative modes of thinking, as the theory of the “noble pagan” allowed Christian scholars to praise pre-Christian figures, with the reasoning that they were born before Christ’s example. By celebrating pre-Christian women who were privy “to the thoughts of God” (92), Christine argues for women’s innate spiritual and intellectual acuity. This supports the theme of Education as the Key to Female Liberation by equating knowledge—whether prophetic or classical—with divine favor and personal worth. The subsequent stories of ignored prophetesses like Cassandra underscore recurrent argument: Disaster befalls men and societies that refuse to heed female wisdom.
Throughout this section, Christine primarily reinterprets established historical and mythological narratives, drawing from respected, male-authored sources like Boccaccio’s De Mulieribus Claris, analyzing the figures differently to draw a contrasting moral argument from her male counterparts. In particular, Christine reframes stories of female suffering and victimhood as examples of agency and strength. The tale of the Sabine women, for example, is transformed from a story of abduction into a demonstration of women’s capacity for political mediation and peacemaking. The suicide of Portia is framed as the ultimate testament to wifely devotion and an unbreakable will, directly refuting the claim that women cannot keep secrets. The examples chosen by Rectitude consistently elevate female virtue from the domestic and private sphere to the public and political realm, to show the value and contributions of women. The virtues on display have profound civic consequences. Judith and Esther save the entire nation of Israel. The Sabine women avert a catastrophic civil war and forge a new, unified Roman society. Veturia’s intervention saves Rome from destruction at the hands of her own son. By focusing on women whose actions determine the fate of cities and peoples, Christine argues that female wisdom, courage, and moral rectitude are essential civic assets. This counters dominant medieval ideology that sought to confine women and their influence to the household. This method is a powerful enactment of Misogyny and Proto-Feminism as Alternative Narratives, as Christine to validates her arguments using accepted authorities while simultaneously turning their narratives toward her own pro-female conclusions.



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