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UBRARYioj 

GESTA  ROMWQ&UM 

«"      x^Ojj^ 

OR, 

entertaining  Stories 

INVENTED  BY  THE  MONKS  AS  A  FIRE-SIDE 

RECREATION;    AND  COMMONLY   APPLIED   IN  THEIR 

DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


NEW  EDITION,  WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION 

BY  THOMAS  WRIGHT,  ESQ.  M.A.  F.S.A. 


'  They  [the  Monks]  might  be  disposed  occasionally  to  recreate  their  minds  with 
subjects  of  a  light  and  amusing  nature  ;  and  what  could  be  more  'innocent  or  de- 
lightful than  the  storiey  of  the  GESTA  ROMAXORUM?  ' 

Deuce's  Illustrations  of  Shatopeare. 


IN   TWO   VOLUMES.— VOL.  I. 
LONDON: 

JOHN  CAMDEN  HOTTEN,  74  £5  75  PICL.  DILLY. 


TO  THE  RIGHT  HONORABLE 

LOED  VISCOUNT  PALMEESTON, 

SECRETARY  AT  WAR, 

AND 

MEMBER  OF  PARLIAMENT. 
FOR  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAMBRIDGE, 

$c.  Sfo.  Sfc. 

MY  LOED, 

WHEN   the   high  and  the  honored 
—the  gifted  in  mind,  not  less   than    ex- 
alted   in    station,    derive    pleasure    from 
protecting    the     interests     of    Literature, 
well   may   she   be   proud   of  the  support. 

AS 


IV  DEDICATION. 

Such  patronage  is  most  valuable :  like 
Mercy, 

"  it  is  twice  blessed'; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes  .-" 

and  powerfully  elicits  the  feeling  of  un- 
qualified respect,  with  which,  in  pre- 
senting these  Volumes,  I  have  the  honor 
to  subscribe  myself, 

Your  Lordship's  most  obedient, 
humble  servant, 

CHARLES  SWAN. 

London,  June  9,  1824. 


CONTENTS. 

TO 

VOL.    I. 


TALE  PAGE 

Introduction v 

I.  Of  Love 1 

II.  Of  Mercy 9 

III.  Of  Just  Judgment 12 

IV.  Of  Justice : 14 

V.  Of  Fidelity 16 

VI.  Of  following  Eeason 21 

VII.  Of  the  Envy  of   bad  Men   towards 

the  good 25 

VIII.   Of  false  Allegations 28 

IX.  Of  Depravity  conquered  by  Mildness  34' 

X.  Of  the  management  of  the  Soul 41 

XT.  Of  the  poison  of  Sin 44 

XII.  Of  bad  Example 46 

XIII.  Of  inordinate   Love 54 

XIV.  Of  honouring  Parents 60 

XV.  Of  the   Life  of  Alexius,  son   of    the 

Senator  Eufemian 65 

XVI.  Of  an  exemplary  Life 80 

XVII.  Of  a  perfect  Life 83 


CONTENTS. 
TALE  PAGE 

XVIII.   Of  venial  Sin 92 

XIX.  Of  the  Sin  of  Pride 97 

XX.  Of  Tribulation  and  Anguish 100 

XXI.  Of  Over- reaching  and  Conspiracy, 

and  of  Caution  opposed  to  them  105 

XXII.  Of  worldly  Fear 108 

XXIII.  Of  spiritual  Medicine    109 

XXIV.  Of  the  Suggestions  of  the  Devil.  Ill 
XXV.  Of  Ingratitude 113 

XXVI.  Of  Humility 115 

XXVII.  Of  just  Eecompence 117 

XXVIII.  Of  the   execrable  Devices  of  old 

Women 120 

XXIX.   Of  corrupt  Judgment 125 

XXX.  Of  Offence  and  Judgment 127 

XXXI.  Of  the  Eigor  of  Death 129 

XXXII.  Of  good  Inspiration 131 

XXXIII.  Of  Hanging 132 

XXXI V.  Of  Consideration  of  Life 133 

XXXV.  Of  Peace,  Eeformation,  &c 136 

XXXVI.  Of  the  course  of  Human  Life. ...    137 
XXXVII.  Of  lifting  up  the  Mind  to  Heaven  143 
XXXVIII.  Of  the   Precaution  necessary   to 

prevent  Error 145 

XXXIX.  Of   Eeconciliation  between   God 

and  Man 146 

XL.   Of  the  Measure  of  Temptation,  and 

of  Skill  .  148 


CONTENTS. 

TALE  PAGE 

XLI.  Of  the  Conquests  and  Charity  of 

our  Lord 150 

XLIT.  Of  want  of  Charity 152 

XLIII.  Of  Christ,  who,  by  His  Passior, 

delivered  us  from  Hell 154 

XLIY.  Of  Envy 155 

XLV.  Of  the  G-ood,  who  alone  will  enter 

the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. .  . . ,  157 

XL VI  Of  mortal  Sins 161 

XL VII.  Of  Three  Kings 162 

XLVIII.  Of  the  end  of  Sinners 165 

XLIX.  Of  the  Illusions  of  the  Devil 167 

L.  Of  Praise  due  to  a  Just  Judge  . .    169 

.      LI.  Of  Extortion 171 

LII.  Of  Fidelity 173 

LIII.  Of  good  Rulers,  who  are  not  to  be 

changed. . 174 

LIY.  Of  a  Celestial  Kingdom    175 

LV.  Of  the  Revocation  of  a  banished 

Sinner 177 

LVI.  Of  remembering  Death 183 

LVII.  Of  perfect  Life 189 

LVIIT.  Of  Confession 194 

LIX.  Of  too  much  Pride  ;  and  how  the 
Proud  are  frequently  compelled  to 
endure  some  notable  Humiliation  196 

LX.  Of  Avarice  and  its  Subtlety 209 

LXI.  Of  Eeflection..  .  213 


CONTENTS. 
TALE  PAGE 

LXIT.  Of  the  beauty  of  a  faithful  Mind  217 
LXIII.  Of  the  pleasures  of  this  World  220 
LXIV.  Of  the  Incarnation  of  our  Lord. .  225 

LXV.  Of  the  cure  of  the  Soul 227 

LXVT.  Of  Constancy 229 

LXYII.  Of  excuses  which  are  not  to  be  ad- 
mitted in  extreme  cases.  ......    232 

LXYIII.  Of  maintaining  Truth  to  the  last  238 

LZIX.   Of  Chastity. 240 

LXX.  Of  the  Compunctions  of  a  faithful 

Mind 244 

LXXI.  Of  an  eternal  Kecompence 248 

[  LXXII.  Of  the  destruction  of  ungrateful 

men 251 

LXXIII.  Of  Avarice,  which  makes  many 

blind 254 

LXXIV.  Of  Foresight  and  Care 257 

LXXV.  Of  Worldly  Anxiety 261 

LXXVI.  Of  Concord 264 

LXXVII.  Of  Eiches,  which  are  not  to  be 

coveted 268 

LXXVIII.  Of  the  Constancy  of  Love 271 

LXXIX.  Of  Presumption 272 

LXXX.   Of  the  Cunning  of  the  Devil  and 

of  the  secret  Judgments  of  Grod  274 
NOTES   .  ,281 


PRE  FACE. 


THE  so  called  GESTA  EOMANORUM  is  un- 
doubtedly one  of  the  most  curious  of  those  col- 
lections of  tales  which  are  found  in  the  popular 
literature  of  most  peoples.  Such  tales,  indeed, 
appear  to  have  been  the  means  by  which  man 
communicated  his  sentiments  and  opinions  to, 
and  impressed  them  upon,  his  fellow  men,  from 
the  earliest  ages  of  human  existence.  They 
seem  to  have  formed,  if  we  may  so  express  it, 
a  natural  accompaniment  of  the  human  mind. 
We  find  them  thus  existing  among  most  of  the 
peoples  of  the  civilized  world,  among  the  Orien- 
tals especially,  among  the  Greek  and  Latin 


X  PREFACE. 

races,  among  the  Celts,  and  among  the  Teutons 
And,  which  is  still  more  remarkable,  when  we 
study  and  compare  the  popular  tales  in  these 
different  races,  we  find  that  so  great  numbers 
of  them  are  exactly  the  same  in  each, — are  iden- 
tical with  each  other  throughout,  that  we  are 
led  almost  unconsciously  to  the  conclusion  that 
these  races  in  which  they  are  thus  found  are 
all  derived  from  one  original  source,  whence  they 
received  their  popular  tales ;  in  fact,  these  tales 
form  almost  a  stronger  proof  of  the  relationship 
of  races  than  language  itself.  In  this  point  of 
view  the  study  of  them  becomes  more  and  more 
interesting. 

These  tales,  among  the  people  who  possessed 
them,  would  naturally  form  the  domestic  enter- 
tainment of  the  family  in  its  home ;  and  we  can 
easily  understand  how,  when  what  we  call  a 
literature  came  into  existence,  they  would  be 
brought  together  into  collections,  under  dif- 


PREFACE.  XI 

ferent  forms,  and,  after  the  introduction  of  a 
written  literature,  they  were  thus  written  in 
books.  Latin  was  the  common  book-language  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  we  find  these  tales  in  a 
Latin  dress,  scattered  through  the  manuscripts, 
sometimes  singly  and  sometimes  in  groups,  from 
the  twelfth  century  to  the  fifteenth.     I  have 
brought  together  a  rather  large  selection  from 
these  manuscripts  in  a  volume  of  Latin  Stories 
printedforthe  Percy  Society  in  1842,  from  which 
their  character  will  be  fully  understood.  But  the 
collections  of  these  stories  took  sometimes  very 
peculiar  forms,  which  appear  to  have  originated 
among  the  Orientals,  and  are  found  at  a  very 
early  period  among  the  literature  of  the  Hin- 
doos.    The   plan  of  these   collections  was  to 
unite  them  in  a  regular  plot,  in  which  one  or 
more  of  the  personages  are  made  to  carry  out 
their  parts  by  telling  stories.     One  of  the  ear- 
liest of  these  is  said  by  the  Sanscrit  philologists 


Xll  PKEFACE. 

to  have  been  composed  at  a  period  not  far  dis- 
tant from  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era  : 
and  one  of  the  later  was  the  larger  collection 
so  well  known  as  the  Thousand  and  One 
Nights,  or,  as  it  is  called  in  the  English  ver- 
sion, the  Arabian  Nights'  Entertainments.  It 
was  in  fact,  like  the  other,  known  to  Europe  in 
the  Middle  Ages  through  the  Arabic  version. 
The  first  of  these  was  known  to  the  Hindoos  in 
its  Sanscrit  form  under  the  title  of  Sendabad. 
It  found  its  way  into  Greece,  where  it  appeared 
in  a  Greek  version  under  the  title  of  Syntipas ; 
and  it  appeared  among  the  Mediaeval  Jews  in 
their  Hebrew  as  the  romance  of  Sendabar.  Its 
plot  is  a  simple  one.  A  young  prince  is  falsely 
accused  by  one  of  the  wives  of  the  king  his 
father  of  having  made  a  violent  attempt  upon 
her  virtue,  but  he  is  defended  by  seven  sages, 
or  philosophers,  who  tell  a  series  of  stories  cal- 
culated to  expose  the  malice  and  perversity  of 


PREFACE.  Xlll 

the  female  sex,  and  the  danger  of  a  condemna- 
tion without  proof.  Several  other  collections 
compiled  in  this  manner  originated  in  India, 
and  were  taken  thence  into  the  Arabic  lan- 
guage, and  brought,  through  the  Arabs  and 
Jews,  into  Western  Europe.  The  story  of  Sen- 
dabad  was  translated  into  Latin  early  in  the 
thirteenth  century  by  a  monk  of  the  Abbey  of 
Haute  Selve,  in  the  bishopric  of  Nancy,  in 
France,  who  is  believed  to  have  taken  his  ver- 
sion from  the  Hebrew,  under  the  title  of  His- 
toria  Septem  Sapientum  Romse,  the  History  of 
the  Seven  Sages  of  Rome,  and  it  soon  became 
extremely  popular  in  Western  Europe,  and  was 
translated  into  French  verse  and  into  English 
verse. 

The  eastern  form  given  to  these  collections 
of  tales  was  thus  introduced  and  became  popu- 
lar in  Europe,  and  soon  found  imitators.  I 
need  hardly  say  that  the  most  remarkable  of 


XIV  PREFACE. 

the  European  collections  of  tales  which  arose  in 
this  manner  was  the  well-known  Decamerone 
of  Giovanni  Boccaccio,  compiled  in  Italy,  in  the 
middle  of  the  fourteenth  century. 

Another  characteristic  found  in  the  mediaeval 
collection  of  stories  given  in  the  present 
volumes  appears  to  have  been  derived  from  the 
East.  Among  the  Oriental  peoples  there  was 
a  tendency,  which  dates  perhaps  from  as  re- 
mote an  antiquity  as  the  tales  themselves,  to 
use  them  as  illustrations  of  moral  or  political 
sentiments.  It  is  thus,  in  fact,  that  they  are  in- 
troduced in  the  collections  to  which  I  have  just 
alluded.  In  Sendabad,  when  the  vizier  or  sage 
tells  a  story,  its  object  is  to  assist  the  narrator 
in  setting  the  king  right  in  some  sentiment  in 
which  he  is  supposed  to  have  gone  wrong.  It 
is  evident  that  in  a  certain  state  of  not  very 
high  mental  culture  such  a  method  of  reason- 
ing would  have  great  force  ;  and  it  appears  to 


PREFACE.  XV 

have  been  taken  up  with  great  eagerness  by  the 
Christian  clergy  of  the  West,  who  used  thesetales 
largely  in  their  sermons,  and  gave  them  a  reli- 
gious interpretation  of  their  own.  It  was  for  this 
purpose  that  the  stories  were,  as  I  have  said 
before,  collected  in  the  old  manuscripts,  where 
we  constantly  find  them  singly  or  in  groups 
forming  smaller  or  larger  collections,  and  writ- 
ten in  Latin,  which  was  the  language  of  the 
mediaeval  church.  As  the  priests,  who  had  to 
repeat  them  in  their  sermons,  which  were  de- 
livered in  Latin,  might  sometimes  be  at  a  loss 
for  the  exact  details  of  the  story, they  committed 
them  to  writing  in  a  manuscript  for  reference ; 
and,  in  the  same  way,  to  help  them  in  their  reli- 
gious interpretations,  they  sometimes  entered  in 
their  manuscript  the  comment  on  the  .story. 
These  were  called  moralisationes,  moralizations, 
and  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  remark  that  these 
are  sometimes  very  singular  and  almost  droll. 


XVI  PREFACE. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  exactly  when  the  employ- 
ment of  the  popular  tales  in  this  manner  began 
among  the  European  clergy.  It  certainly  ex- 
isted in  the  twelfth  century,  and  was  well 
known  in  the  thirteenth  century,  but  appears 
to  have  reached  its  highest  degree  of  popularity 
during  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth.  In  the 
middle  of  the  former  century  there  lived  in 
France  a  learned  writer  named  Pierre  Ber- 
cheure,  who  was  prior  of  the  Benedictine  House 
of  St.  Eloi  in  Paris,  and  died  in  1362.  In  his 
time  more  than  one  collection  of  stories  with 
their  commentaries  in  this  style  were  compiled, 
and  are  found  in  the  manuscripts,  under  the 
title  of  moralitates.  One  of  these,  the  work  of  a 
Dominican  friar,  named  Robert  Holkot,  was 
entitled  Moralitates  pulchrae  in  usum  Prcedica- 
torum,  "beautiful  moralities  for  the  use  of 
preachers."  This  book  was  printed  at  a  later 
period.  Pierre  Bercheure,  who  seems  to  have 


PREFACE.  XV11 

been  well  acquainted  with  this  class  of  litera- 
ture as  it  then  existed,  formed  the  plan  of 
a  collection  of  tales,  of  what  would  then  be  con- 
sidered a  rather  more  important  character.  At 
this  time,  in  what  was  considered  as  the  Roman 
church,  it  was  natural  enough  to  look  back  for 
historical  examples  to  the  times  of  the  Romans. 
As  we  have  seen,  when  the  Oriental  Sendabad 
was  published  in  the  West  in  a  Latin  dress, 
the  translator  imagined  the  eastern  viziers  to 
be  wise  men  of  Rome,  and  he  gave  to  his  book 
the  title  of  Historia  sept  em  sapientum  Romce. 
Bercheure  was  led  by  the  same  feelings,  and 
apparently  without  any  special  design,  he  takes 
all  his  stories  as  events  which  had  occurred  in 
Rome,  and  generally  in  more  or  less  close  re- 
lation to  the  emperor  himself.  Hence  he  gave 
to  this  new  collection  the  title  of  Gesta  Roman- 
orum,  the  word  Gesta,  in  the  Latin  of  that  time, 
meaning  historical  exploits,  or  acts.  A  history  of 

b 


XV1U  PKEFACE. 

the  crusades  was  entitled  Gesta  Dei  per  Francos, 
and  a  history  of  England  would  be  called  Gesta 
Anglorum.  But  the  gesta  told  in  the  collection  of 
Pierre  Bercheure  have  no  more  relation  to  his- 
tory than  most  of  the  emperors  in  whose  reigns 
they  are  supposed  to  have  occurred,  among 
whom  we  find  such  names  as  Mereclus,  Sole- 
mius,  Bononius,  Bertoldus,  Ciclades,  Lamarti- 
nus,  and  the  like.  To  show  the  ignorance  of 
Roman  history,  or  of  any  history,  displayed  by 
the  compiler,  I  need  only  state  that  in  one  tale 
we  find  living  together  at  the  same  time  in 
Rome  the  emperor  Claudius,  the  philosopher 
Socrates,  and  king  Alexander.  Pompey,  too, 
is  introduced  among  the  Roman  emperors.  In 
another  tale  we  are  told  of  a  statue  raised  to 
the  honour  of  Julius  Caesar,  in  the  capitol, 
twenty-two  years  after  the  foundation  of  Rome. 
It  appears  to  be  now  the  general  opinion  of 
scholars  in  the  history  of  mediaeval  literature 


PREFACE.  XIX 

that  Pierre  Bercheure  was,  in  this  manner,  the 
author  of  the  Gesta  Romanorum.  This  curious 
book  appears,  from  its  first  publication,  to  have 
been  received  with  great  favour  by  the  Romish 
clergy.  Its  popularity  was  very  great  during 
the  fifteenth  century,  to  which  period  a  large 
portion  of  the  existing  manuscripts,  especially 
of  those  found  in  England,  belongs. 

The  Gesta  Romanorum,  indeed,  appears  to 
have  been  especially  popular  among  the  Eng- 
lish priesthood,  one  of  whom,  who  seems  to  have 
had  an  imperfect  copy,  appears  to  have  com- 
pleted it  with  tales  taken  from  other  sources, 
to  have  exchanged  some  of  the  tales  for  others, 
and  to  have  re- written  most  of  those  which  he 
retained,  which  in  this  edition  present  many 
variations  when  we  compare  them  with  the 
originals.  This  is  the  text  found  in  the 
original  manuscripts,  and  is  usually  spoken  of 
by  scholars  as  the  Anglo-Latin  Gesta.  Sir 

b  2 


XX  PREFACE. 

Frederick  Madden  believed  that  this  Anglo- 
Latin  text  was  compiled  in  England,  in  the 
reign  of  Richard  II.  It  was  from  this  text 
that  the  first  English  translation  was  made, 
which  was  first  printed  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde, 
about  1510  or  1515.  The  first  French  transla- 
tion, after  being  long  known  in  manuscript, 
was  printed  in  Paris  in  1521.  It  is  unneces- 
sary to  add  that  many  editions  followed  in  both 
countries,  and  that  the  book  was  translated  also 
into  German  and  into  other  languages.  It  was 
no  doubt  very  popular  in  England,  and  it  exer- 
cised a  great  influence  on  our  English  poetry 
of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries ;  at 
which  we  need  not  be  surprised,  for  there  is 
poetry  both  in  the  tales  themselves,  and  in  the 
manner  in  which  they  are  told.  In  our  own 
country  the  Gesta  Romanorum  continued  Jong 
to  be  reprinted  both  in  the  original  Latin  and 
in  the  English  translation,  which  was  a  popular 


PREFACE.  XXI 

book  in  the  earlier  ages  of  printing,  and  this 
popularity  continued  down  to  the  seventeenth 
century.  Then,  for  a  long  period,  the  Gesta 
Romanorum  was  regarded  as  a  curious  and  in- 
teresting old  book,  but  which  you  only  saw  by 
accident,  or  met  with  in  the  libraries  of  collec- 
tors of  old  books,  and  in  the  last  century  and 
earlier  part  of  the  present  it  was  read  only  by 
those  who  took  an  interest  in  our  older  litera- 
ture, or  who  sought  illustrations  of  our  old 
poetry.  In  the  latter  half  of  the  last  century, 
the  attention  of  scholars  was  indeed  drawn 
anew  to  these  curious  tales  by  the  appearance 
of  Warton's  History  of  English  Poetry,  in 
which  he  gave  an  excellent  and  very  learned 
"  Dissertation  on  the  Gesta  Romanorum ;"  but 
it  was  not  until  the  year  1824,  that  a  member 
of  the  university  of  Cambridge,  a  scholar  of 
Catherine  Hall,  whose  taste  had  led  him  to  the 
study  of  our  early  English  literature,  sought  to 


XXll  PKEFACE. 

make  this  curious  book  better  known,  and  to 
render  it  more  popular,  by  giving  to  the  public 
a  new  translation  into  modern  English.  This 
was  the  Rev.  Charles  Swan,  whose  translation, 
now  reprinted,  appeared  in  two  volumes  in  the 
year  just  mentioned,  and  it  is  through  this 
modern  translation  that  the  celebrated  tales  of 
the  Gesta  Romanorum  are  now  best  known  to 
English  readers.  Charles  Swan  was  evidently 
impressed  deeply  with  the  general  interest  of 
the  subject  he  had  taken  up,  and  had  entered 
upon  the  study  of  it  with  great  zeal,  and  his 
translation  is  a  very  sufficient  representation  of 
the  substance  and  spirit  of  the  original. 

And  this  original  is  full  of  interest  for  us. 
It  not  only  breathes  poetry  in  most  of  its  stories, 
but  it  presents  pictures  of  mediaeval  life,  public 
and  domestic,  which  we  should  seek  in  vain 
elsewhere.  Some  of  these  are  naive  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  throw  curious  light  upon  the  man- 


PREFACE.  XX111 

ners  and  sentiments  of  these  remote  ages.  For 
from  whatever  sources  the  stories  may  have 
been  derived,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  a 
very  large  amount  of  Eastern  fiction  was  in- 
troduced into  Western  Europe  after  the  time 
of  the  crusades,  the  details  of  the  stories  of  the 
Gesta  Romanorum  are,  in  their  character,  per- 
fectly those  of  Western  Europe  in  the  thir- 
teenth century.  We  know  that  in  the  East, 
at  the  time  of  the  Crusades,  the  taste  for  telling 
stories  and  moralizing  upon  them,  had  become 
almost  a  passion  among  the  Oriental  peoples, 
but  it  no  doubt  existed  among  the  Arab  popu- 
lation of  the  West  also,  the  Maurs  of  Africa 
and  Spain,  and  when  we  consider  the  influence 
which  the  Arabian  science  and  literature  exer- 
cised on  those  of  Christian  Europe,  we  can  un- 
derstand how  naturally  the  popular  fiction  of 
those  peoples  would  be  imported  hither. 

However,  as  I  have  already  said,  the  same 


XXIV  PREFACE. 

tastes  and  sentiments  which  are  embodied  in 
these  stories,  and  appear  in  the  manner  in  which 
they  were  employed,  are  found  to  have  been 
common  to  all  the  different  branches  of  the 
Asiatic  and  European  races  with  the  literary 
history  of  whom  we  are  acquainted.  We  find 
them  developed  at  a  much  earlier  period  than 
those  of  which  I  have  been  speaking  in  the 
Fables  of  ^Esop.  ^Esop^s  Fables,  belonging  to 
a  date  several  centuries  before  the  Christian 
era,  may  be  regarded  as  an  early  prototype  of 
the  Gesta  Romanorum,  under  sentiments  of  a 
slightly  different  character,  and  influenced  by 
the  same  system  of  moralization.  The  old 
Greek  took  for  his  examples  anecdotes  of  ani- 
mals acting  with  the  sentiments  of  men.  The 
clerical  writer  of  mediaeval  times  introduced 
Roman  emperors,  chieftains,  and  philosophers, 
acting  as  if  they  were  men  of  his  own  time. 
The  moralizations  of  the  fables  of  ^Esop,  are 


PREFACE.  XIV 

similar  in  character  and  spirit  to  those  of  the 
Gesta  Romanorum,  and  were  calculated  for 
serving  the  same  purpose.  Thus  the  mediaeval 
compilers  of  the  Gesta  Romanorum  might  have 
found  their  models  in  the  fables  of  ^Esop,  just 
as  well  as  in  the  Eastern  stories.  In  fact  the 
Oriental  taste  for  such  collections  of  stories 
moralized  may  probably  be  considered  as  de- 
rived originally  from  the  early  classical  times. 
The  J3sopean  fables  were  certainly  known  in 
Western  Europe  before  the  knowledge  of  these 
Eastern  collections  was  imported  hither,  and 
they  were  used  by  the  mediaeval  preachers  much 
in  the  same  manner  for  the  same  purpose.  We 
are  informed  of  this  fact  by  Vincent  of  Beau- 
vais,  a  well  known  writer  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  in  his  great  work,  entitled  Speculum 
Historiale  (the  Mirror  of  History).  Vincent 
approves  of  this  practice,  but  with  qualifications 
which  would  seem  to  show  that  in  his  time  it 


XXVI  PREFACE. 

was  carried  by  the  Western  clergy  to  a  rather 
extravagant  degree. 

It  would  thus  appear  that  in  Western 
Europe,  as  well  as  probably  among  the  Eastern 
peoples,  the  use  of  these  stories  with  moraliza- 
tions  or  applications,  had  been  in  fact  derived 
from  the  ancients.  The  uEsopean  fables  had. 
paved  the  way  for  the  Oriental  apologues,  and 
for  the  subsequent  formation  of  the  Gesta 
Romanorum. 

THOMAS  WRIGHT. 

London,  Nov.  1871. 


INTRODUCTION. 


SECTION  I. 

THE  History  of  Romantic  Fabling  is  enve- 
loped in  much  perplexity;  nor  is  it  dimi- 
nished by  the  various  conjectures  which  have 
been  started  and  upheld.  The  labours  of  in- 
genuity are  not  always  convincing  -,  and  per- 
haps the  very  fact  of  their  plausibility  leads 
us  to  mistrust.  Discussion  upon  remote  his- 
tory is  ever  attended  with  difficulty  ;  and  ar- 
guments that  rest  upon  the .  basis  of  refined 
deduction — that  are  artfully  designed  to  pull 
down  one  system  while  they  support  another 
equally  imaginative,  may  have  a  well-founded 
VOL.  i.  a 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

claim  to  admiration,  but  not  upon  the  score 
of  truth.  It  is  singular  how  the  mind  loves 
to  grasp  at  mystery,  and  to  disport  itself  in 
the  chaos  of  departed  time.  It  springs  un- 
dauntedly forward,  unappalled  by  the  num- 
berless shadows  which  flit  in  "  dim  perspec- 
tive "  before  it,  and  undeterred  by  the  intri- 
cacies of  the  way.  It  would  seem  like  a  cap- 
tive escaped  from  confinement,  wantoning  in 
the  excess  of  unaccustomed  liberty.  And 
the  more  boundless  the  subject,  the  less  timid 
we  find  the  adventurer ;  the  more  perilous  the 
journey,  the  less  wary  are  his  movements. 
Boldness  appears  to  constitute  success  ;  as 
if,  because  the  faint  heart  never  attained  the 
fair  lady,  modest  pretensions,  and  unassuming 
merit,  never  secured  the  lady  TRUTH.  It  is  a 
libel  upon  the  head  and  the  heart ;  and  can- 
not be  too  speedily  abandoned. 

Of  the  theories  already  advanced,  none,  it 


INTRODUCTION.  Vll 

seems  to  me,  is  perfect;  and  none,  without 
some  portion  of  accuracy.  They  each  go  part 
of  the  way,  but  stop  before  they  touch  the 
mark.  Bishop  Percy,  after  Mallet,  attributes 
the  invention  of  romance  to  the  ancient  Scalds 
or  Bards  of  the  North.  They  believed  the 
existence  of  giants  and  dwarfs  ;  they  enter- 
tained opinions  not  unlike  the  more  modern 
notion  of  fairies ;  they  were  strongly  pos- 
sessed with  the  belief  of  spells  and  enchant- 
ments, and  were  fond  of  inventing  combats 
with  dragons  and  monsters1/'  Now  this  is 
unequivocally  nothing  less  than  the  entire 
machinery  employed  in  all  the  Arabian  Tales, 
and  in  every  other  oriental  fiction.  Such  a 
coincidence  no  one  will  suppose  the  result  of 
accident ;  nor  can  it  for  a  moment  be  believed, 
that  the  warm  imaginations  of  the  East — where 

1  Reliques  of  Ancient  Eng.  Poetry,  Vol.  3.  p.  xiiL 
a  2 


viil  INTRODUCTION. 

Nature  brightens  the  fancy  equally  with  the 
flowers — borrowed  it  from  the  colder  concep- 
tions of  the  Northern  bards.     Many  parts  of 
the   Old  Testament,   demonstrate    familiarity 
with   spells  ;    and   Solomon    (which   proves  a 
traditional    intercourse,    at   least   between  the 
Jews  and  other  people  of  the  East)  by  univer- 
sal consent,  has  been  enthroned  sovereign  of 
the  Genii,  and  lord  of  the  powerful  Talisman. 
In  David  and  Goliah,  we  trace  the  contests  of 
knights   with   giants  :    in  the   adventures   of 
Sampson,  perhaps,  the  miraculous  feats  attri- 
buted to  the  heroes  of  chivalry.     In  the  apo- 
cryphal book  of  Tobit,  we  have  an  angel  in 
the  room   of  a    SAINT  ,    enchantments,   anti- 
dotes,  distressed   damsels,  demons,  and  most 
of  the  other  machinery  of  the  occidental  ro- 
mance1.    Parts  of  the  Pentateuch;  of  Kings, 

1  In  the  application  of  the  10th  Tale,  Vol.  1,  the  book  of 
Tobit,  is  referred  to. 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

&c.  &c.  appear  to  have  been  amplified,  and 
rendered  wild  and  fabulous  ;  and  were  the 
comparison  carried  minutely  forward,  I  am 
persuaded  that  the  analogy  would  be  found 
as  striking  as  distinct.  I  mean  not  that  this 
has  always  been  the  immediate  source :  I  am 
rather  inclined  to  suppose,  that  certain  rami- 
fications, direct  from  the  East,  already  dilated 
and  improved,  were  more  generally  the  origin. 
But  Scripture,  in  many  cases,  furnished  a  su- 
pernatual  agency  without  pursuing  this  cir- 
cuitous route ;  as  well  as  heroes  with  all  the 
attributes  of  ancient  romance.  In  the  old 
French  prose  of  Sir  Otuel,  Chap.  XXIV.  we 
have  the  following  exclamations  on  the  death 
of  the  knight  Roland,  which  partly  confirm 
my  observation.  "  Compare  a  Judas  Macha- 
beus  par  ta  valeur  et  prouesse ;  ressemblant 
a  Sanson,  et  pareil  a  Jonatas  fils  de  Saul  par  la 
fortune  de  sa  triste  morte  \"  The  Jewish  Tal- 
a3 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

mud,  and  especially  the  commentary  upon  it, 
abound  with  fables,  composed  in  some  re- 
spects of  the  materials  worked  up  by  the 
Scalds,  but  long  anterior  in  date  to  their  com- 
positions, so  far  as  they  are  known. 

Dr.  Percy  contends,  that  "  old  writers  of 
chivalry  appear  utterly  unacquainted  with 
whatever  relates  to  the  Mahometan  nations, 
and  represent  them  as  worshipping  idols,  or 
adoring  a  golden  image  of  Mahomet1/'  This, 
I  should  conceive,  would  naturally  be  the 
case.  It  was  the  aim  of  Christian  writers  to 
represent  the  infidels  in  the  worst  light  pos- 
sible. They  thought  them  the  most  wretched 
beings  in  creation ;  and  they  might,  therefore, 
artfully  pervert  their  creed,  and  exaggerate 
their  vices.  Most  frequently,  such  would  be 
the  genuine  result  of  their  abhorrence  : — just 

1  Rel.  of  A.  E.  Poetry,  Ibid. 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

as  popular  superstition  pictures  the  "  foul 
fiend/'  with  horns,  and  cloven  feet,  and  a  hi- 
deously distorted  countenance — not  because 
it  is  really  accredited,  but  because  nothing  is 
thought  too  vile  or  too  fearful  for  the  Evil 
One.  The  hostility  which  the  crusades  ex- 
cited and  nourished ;  nay,  the  very  difference 
of  religious  feeling,  would  necessarily  call  out 
the  whole  virulence  of  an  age,  not  remarkable 
for  its  forbearance ;  and  it  is  absurd  to  sup- 
pose that  the  intercourse  so  long  maintained 
between  the  two  continents  (both  previous  to 
these  expeditions,  and  subsequent),  should 
not  have  given  them  a  sufficient  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Saracen  belief,  and  mode  of 
worship.  If  the  great  Saladin  required  and 
received  knight- hood  from  the  hands  of  the 
Christians1,  it  argued  a  degree  of  intimacy 

1  See  "Gesta  Dei  per  Francos,"    page  1152,     Joinville 
(p.  42)  is  cited  by  Gibbon  for  a  similar  instance. 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

with  European  customs  on  the  one  side,  which 
it  would  be  unfair  and  arbitrary  to  deny  the 
other. 

That  the  Scalds  added  some  circumstances 
to  the  original  matter,  and  rejected  others,  is 
extremely  probable.  The  traditions  which 
conveyed  the  fable,  would,  of  course,  be  cor- 
rupted ;  not  only  from  the  mode  of  conveying 
it,  but  from  the  dissimilarity  of  customs  and 
ideas  among  those  by  whom  it  was  received. 
All  I  contend  for,  is  the  original  ground,  upon 
which  they,  and  other  nations  have  built ; 
and  this,  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  demon- 
strate, purely  oriental.  But  it  is  objected, 
that  if  the  northern  bards  had  derived  their 
systems  from  the  East,  they  would  have  na- 
turalized them  as  the  Romans  did  the  stories 
of  Greece.  It  is  thought  that  they  must  have 
adopted  into  their  religious  rites  the  same  my- 
thology, and  have  evinced  as  strong  a  simili- 


INTRODUCTION.  Xlll 

tude,  as  the  nations  of  classical  celebrity. 
There  is,  in  truth,  no  basis  for  such  an  asser- 
tion to  stand  upon.  The  long  intercourse  be- 
tween these  nations,  their  vicinity  to  each 
other,  and  more  than  all,  the  original  similar- 
rity  of  their  worship,  prepared  the  Romans  to 
receive  the  devotional  system  of  a  conquered 
country,  without  hesitation.  They  understood, 
and  valued  Grecian  literature,  and  conse- 
quently found  an  additional  motive  for  the  re- 
ception of  Grecian  theology.  It  accorded  with 
preconceived  notions ;  it  was,  in  fact,  a  part 
of  their  own.  Besides,  the  Romans  were 
rising  in  civilization,  and  caught  at  every 
shadow  of  improvement.  The  people  of  the 
North  were  totally  the  reverse.  They  were  the 
children  of  Nature — of  Nature  yet  unbetrothed 
to  Art.  They  were  not,  therefore,  prepared  by 
any  thing  analogous  to  produce  a  similar 
effect :  and  could  but  seize  the  most  promi- 
a  5 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

nent  features  that  were  presented  to  them, 
upon  which  to  engraft  their  own  wild  and  ter- 
rible stories. 

Warton  has  written  a  long  dissertation  to 
prove  that  the  Arabians,  who  had  been  for 
some  time  seated  on  the  northern  coasts  of 
Africa,  and  who  entered  Spain  about  the  be- 
ginning of  the  eighth  century,  "  disseminated 
those  extravagant  inventions  which  were  so 
peculiar  to  their  romantic  and  creative  ge- 
nius l"  This  hypothesis  Bishop  Percy  has 
endeavoured  to  refute ;  and,  according  to  Mr. 
Ellis  2,  he  has  entirely  succeeded.  The  argu- 
ment advanced  on  this  occasion  is,  that  were 
it  true,  "the  first  French  romances  of  chi- 
valry would  have  been  on  Moorish,  or  at 
least  Spanish  subjects,  whereas  the  most 
ancient  stories  of  this  kind,  whether  in 
prose  or  verse,  whether  in  Italian,  French, 

1  Hist,  of  Eng.  Poetry,  Diss.  1. 

2  Specimens  of  Anc.  Met.  Romances,  Vol.  i.  p.  31. 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

English,  &c.  are  chiefly  on  the  subjects  of 
Charlemagne  and  the  Paladins,  or  of  our  Bri- 
tish Arthur,  and  his  Knights  of  the  Round 
Table,  &c.  being  evidently  borrowed  from  the 
fabulous  chronicles  of  the  supposed  Arch- 
bishop Turpin,  and  of  Jeffery  of  Monmouth  V 
Something  in  this  there  may  be;  but  it  is 
still  clear,  that  intercourse,  of  whatever  kind, 
existing  between  two  nations,  must,  to  a  cer- 
tain degree,  supply  information  relative  to 
their  peculiar  habits  and  belief.  That  each 
side  would  hold  communication  with  their 
captives,  either  from  political  motives,  or 
otherwise,  is  consistent  with  the  experience  of 
all  ages ;  and,  surely,  not  every  individual 
would  be  so  fastidious  as  to  repel  a  closer  in- 
timacy. Courtesy,  humanity,  intrigue,  &c. 
would,  in  some  few  at  least,  open  a  door  to  an 

1  Rel.  of  Anc.  E.  Poetry,  Vol.  3.  p.  xii.  Note. 

a6 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

\ 

unfettered  interchange  of  thought ;  while  gra- 
titude for  certain  benefits  might  operate  on 
others.  In  the  course  of  a  multifarious  -war- 
fare, such  things  must  occur;  the  line  of  se- 
paration must  occasionally  be  removed,  and 
youthful  hearts  and  minds,  must,  now  and 
then,  however  sundered  by  human  prejudices , 
break  down  the  strongest  barrier  that  inter- 
poses between  them.  If  this  be  granted,  when 
the  history  of  such  times  and  such  circum- 
stances was  forgotten,  the  literature  which 
they  had  helped  to  disseminate,  would  re- 
main. The  legendary  tale  of  the  sire  descends 
unmutilated  to  the  son  ;  and  the  fact  is  on  re- 
cord, though  the  occasion  be  obliterated.  The 
fabulous  chronicle  .of  Turpin  might  then  be 
drawn  up  ;  having  its  superstructure  on  French 
manners,  but  its  basis  on  oriental  learning. 
Much  time  must  inevitably  elapse  before  new 
systems  can  take  root ;  and  when  they  do,  it 


INTRODUCTION.  XVll 

is  imperceptibly  and  silently.  Hence,  may 
the  hostile  incursions  of  the  Saracens  have 
introduced  some  portion  of  Eastern  fiction : 
but  not  all-,  for  it  is  the  common  tendency  of 
a  conquered  country  to  engraft  its  own  cha- 
racter and  customs  upon  those  of  the  stronger 
power. 

It  has  been  observed  by  Ritson  (whose  viru- 
lent and  ungentlemanly  abuse  of  his  oppo- 
nents is  disgusting  in  the  extreme !)  that  nei- 
ther the  Spaniards,  nor  any  other  nations  of 
Europe,  had  an  opportunity  of  adopting  lite- 
rary information  "from  a  people  with  whom 
they  had  no  connection  but  as  enemies, 
whose  language  they  never  understood,  and  whose 
manners  they  detested:  nor  would  even  have 
condescended  or  permitted  themselves,  to 
make  such  an  adoption  from  a  set  of  infidel 
barbarians  who  had  invaded,  ravaged,  and 
possessed  themselves  of  some  of  the  best  and 


XV111  INTRODUCTION". 

richest  provinces  of  Spain1."  Much  of  this  is 
in  substance  what  has  been  contended  against 
above ;  and  that  a  very  short  period  of  servi- 
tude will  not  open  the  sources  of  a  more 
friendly  communication — in  appearance  at 
least — between  nations  under  such  circum- 
stances, is  contrary  to  historical  fact,  and  to 
human  nature.  The  enslaved  must  look  up 
to  the  enslaver  for  protection — for  support; 
and  the  latter  in  return  would  enforce,  under 
the  penalty  of  extermination,  the  aid  which 
was  considered  requisite.  Thus,  however  in- 
voluntary and  hateful,  intercourse  must  be 
under  all  situations.  But  here,  the  fact  is,  as 
Mr.  Warton  remarks,  (though  Ritson  pleases 
to  overlook  it)  that  after  the  irruption  of  the 
Saracens,  the  Spaniards  neglected  even  the 
study  of  the  Sacred  Writings,  for  the  express 

1  Dissert,  on  Romance,  and  Minstrelsy,  Vol.  i.  p.  xx.  xxi. 


INTRODUCTION.  XIX 

purpose  of  acquiring  the  Arabic.  This  curious 
passage  is  cited  by  Du  Cange,  whose  words 
I  shall  quote  at  length. 

"  Quod  vero  supra  laudatus  Scriptor  ano- 
nymus  de  Gallise  nostrae  in  Lingua  Latina  bar- 
barie  ante  Caroli  M.  tempora,  idem  de  His- 
pania  post  Saracenorum  irruptionem  testatur 
Alvarus :  ubi  neglectis  et  posthabitis  Scrip- 
turis  Sanctis,  earumque  sacris  interpretibus, 
quotquot  supererant  Christiani,  Arabum  Chal- 
dseorumque  libris  evolvendis  incumbebant, 
gentilitia  eruditions  praclari,  Arabico  eloquio 
sublimati,  Ecclesiasticam  pulchritudinem  igno- 
rantes,  et  Ecclesia  flumina  de  Paradiso  manan- 
tia,  quasi  vilissima  contemnentes ,  legem  suam 
nesciebant,  et  linguam  propriam  non  advertebant 
Latini,  ita  ut  ex  omni  Christi  Collegia  vix  in- 
veniretur  unus  in  milleno  hominum  genere,  qui 
salutatorias  fratri  posset  rationaliter  dirigere 
literas,  CUM  BEPERIRENTUR  ABSQUE  NU- 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

MERO  MULTIPLICES  TURB.E,  QTII  ERUDITE 
CHALDAICAS.  VERBORUM  EXPLICARENT 
POMP  AS.  Quod  quidem  abunde  firmatj  quse 
de  Elepanto  Toletano  suprA,  diximus.  Sed 
et  inde  satis  arguimus  unde  tot  voces  Ara- 
bicse  in  Hispanam,  subinde  sese  intolerant1/1 

We  have  then  a  complete  refutation  of  Bit- 
son's  strongest  objection;  and  perhaps  had 
not  the  spleen  of  the  writer  been  more  power- 
ful than  the  good  sense  and  feeling  of  the 
man,  he  never  would  have  hazarded  the  re- 
mark. And  if  judicial  astrology,  medicine, 
and  chemistry,  were  of  Arabian  origin,  and 
introduced  into  Europe  a  century  at  least 
before  the  crusades ;  if  Pope  Gerbert,  or  Syl- 
vester II.  who  died  A.D.  1003,  brought  the 
Arabic  numerals  into  France,  it  is  surely 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  these  sciences,  so 

1  Du  Cange ;  Gloss.  Med.  Inf.  Lat.  Tom.  I.  Prsefatio,  p. 
xxxii.  §  31. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXI 

intimately  connected  with  magical  operations 
(and  with  fictions  diverging  from  them)  as  to 
confer  upon  the  possessor  a  title  to  superna- 
tural agency,  would  extend  their  influence  to 
the  legendary  stories,  as  well  as  to  the  man- 
ners of  the  west,  which  these  very  stories  are 
admitted  to  describe !  Yet,  after  all,  it  is 
not  to  be  imagined  that  the  introduction  •  of 
eastern  invention  happened  at  one  time,  or  in 
one  age;  it  was  rather  the  growth  of  many 
times,  and  of  many  ages — continually,  though 
gradually  augmenting,  till  it  attained  ma- 
turity. 

The  next  hypothesis  gives  Armorica,  or 
Bretany,  as  the  source  of  romantic  fiction. 
But  to  this,  the  same  objections  arise  that 
have  been  started  with  respect  to  the  rest. 
Mr.  Ellis,  in  the  introduction  to  his  "  Spe- 
cimens of  Early  English  Romances,"  plausi- 
bly suggests  that  all  are  compatible.  He 
a9 


XX11  INTRODUCTION. 

imagines  "that  the  scenes  and  characters  of 
our  romantic  histories  were  very  generally, 
though  not  exclusively,  derived  from  the  Bre- 
tons, or  from  the  Welsh  of  this  island;  that 
much  of  the  colouring,  and  perhaps  some  par- 
ticular adventures,  may  be  of  Scandinavian 
origin,  and  that  occasional  episodes,  together 
with  part  of  the  machinery,  may  have  been 
borrowed  from  the  Arabians  V  Which  is  as 
much  as  to  say,  that  each  nation  contributed 
something,  and  very  likely  they  did ;  but  which 
furnished  the  greater  part,  or  which  origi- 
nated the  whole,  is  just  as  obscure  as  before 
a  "reconciliation"  of  opinions  was  projected. 
This  conciliatory  system  will  remind  the 
reader  of  Boccacio's  tale  of  The  Three  Rings, 
"  the  question  of  which  is  yet  remaining." 

Another    supposition    attributes    the   chief 
source   of    romantic   fiction    to   classical   and 
1  Vol.  I.  p.  35. 


INTRODUCTION.  XX111 

mythological  authors ;  that  is,  to  the  stories 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  somewhat  altered  by 
modern  usages.  To  this  belief  Mr.  Southey 
and  Mr.  Dunlop  seem  to  incline.  The  latter 
adds,  that  "  after  all,  a  great  proportion  of 
the  wonders  of  romance  must  be  attributed  to 
the  imagination  of  the  authors."  But  when 
these  wonders,  similarly  constructed,  per- 
vade the  most  remote  countries,  there  must 
be  something  more  than  an  author's  imagina- 
tion brought  into  the  account.  Consideration, 
however,  is  due  to  the  idea  of  a  classical 
origin ;  and  this,  blended  with  the  rest,  may 
help  to  make  up  a  perfect  system.  Before  I 
proceed  to  the  attempt,  I  would  advert  to 
certain  observations  which  Mr.  Dunlop  has 
promulgated  in  his  "  History  of  Fiction." 
He  says,  "  It  cannot  be  denied,  and  indeed 
has  been  acknowledged  by  Mr.  Warton,  that 

1  Introduction  to  Amadis  of  Gaul. 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION. 

the  fictions  of  the  Arabians  and  Scalds  are  to- 
tally different1"  Much  misunderstanding 
would  doubtless  be  avoided  by  accurate  re- 
ferences :  and  if  Mr.  Dunlop  be  correct  in 
what  he  asserts,  it  would  be  a  pleasant  thing 
to  know  the  edition  and  page  to  which  he  al- 
ludes. In  contradiction  to  the  insinuation 
here  thrown  out,  Warton  says,  "  But  as  the 
resemblance  which  the  pagan  Scandinavians  bore 
to  the  eastern  nations  in  manners,  monuments, 
opinions,  and  practices,  is  so  VERY  PERCEP- 
TIBLE AND  APPARENT,  an  inference  arises, 
that  their  migration  from  the  east,  must  have 
happened  at  a  period  by  many  ages  more  re- 
cent, and  therefore,  most  probably  about  the 
time  specified  by  historians  2."  And  again, 
"  These  practices  and  opinions  co-operated 
with  kindred  superstitions  of  dragons,  dwarfs, 
fairies,  giants,  and  enchanters,  which  the  tradi- 
\  Page  163.  2  Dissertation  I.  p.  xxviii. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXV 

tions  of  the  gothic  Scalders  had  alreadg  planted ; 
and  produced  that  extraordinary  species  of 
composition  -which  has  been  called  RO- 
MANCE V  In  another  place,  indeed,  he  ad- 
mits that  there  were  ' '  but  few "  of  these 
monsters  in  the  poetry  of  the  most  ancient 
Scalds ;  but  that  few  is  quite  sufficient  for 
the  argument. 

So  that,  one  would  think,  Warton  supplies 
no  testimony  in  support  of  a  doctrine,  which 
I  cannot  help  fancying  may  be  proved  alto- 
gether groundless.  "  Allowing  the  early 
Scaldic  odes  to  be  genuine,"  says  Mr.  Dun- 
lop,  "  we  find  in  them  no  dragons,  giants, 
magic  rings,  or  enchanted  castles.  These  are 
only  to  be  met  with  in  the  compositions  of 
the  bards  who  flourished  after  the  native  vein 
of  Runic  fabling  had  been  enriched  by  the 
tales  of  the  Arabians  V  This  is  an  extremely 

1  Hist,  of  Eng.  Poetry,  Vol.  I.  p.  110.     2  Vol.  I.  p.  164. 


XXVI  INTRODUCTION. 

cautious  method  of  writing ;  for  while  we  con- 
tend that  the  easterns  furnished  the  ground- 
work, and  fix  the  date,  Mr.  Dunlop  may  tell 
us,  be  it  when  it  may,  that  it  was  subsequent 
to  the  period  in  which  the  Runic  fable  nou- 
rished in  its  native  purity.  Let  us  examine, 
however,  how  far  his  bold  assertion  may  be 
maintained,  respecting  the  poetical  machi- 
nery adopted  by  the  ancient  Scalds.  Let  us 
revert  to  the  EDDA  l,  a  monument  "  tout-a- 
fait  unique  en  son  espece,"  as  Monsieur  Mal- 
let assures  us 2,  and  try  whether  there  be  not, 
in  fact,  almost  the  whole  of  what  he  has  re- 
jected. 

1  "  The  Edda  was  compiled,  undoubtedly  with  many  ad- 
ditions and  interpolations,  from  fictions  and  traditions  in  the 
old  Runic   poems,  by  Soemund   Sigfusson,    surnamed   the 
Learned,  about  the  year  1057." — WABTON.     But  "Warton  has 
not  proved  his  undoubtedly  ;    and  though  I  do  not  deny  the 
probability  of  interpolations,  I  shall  not  relinquish  the  Giants, 
&c.  without  further  proof. 

2  "  Monumens  de  la  Mjthol.  et  de  la  Ppesie  des  Celtes," 
Stc.  p.  13.  Pref. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXV11 

Gylfe  was  king  of  Sweden,  and  a  celebrat- 
ed magician.  When  a  colony  of  Asiatics  ar- 
rived in  his  country  (a  tradition  which  adds 
strength  to  my  hypothesis)  he  assumed  the 
form  of  an  old  man,  and  journeyed  to  the  city 
of  Asgard.  "  Sed  Asse  erant  perspicaciores, 
(imo  ut)  prseviderent  iter  ejus,  eumque  fasci- 
natione  oculorum  exciperent.  Tune  cernebat 
ilk  altum  palatium:  Tecta  ejus  erant  tecta 
aureis  clypeis,  ut  tectum  novum.  Ita  loquitur 
Diodolfius :  f  Tectum  ex  auro  micante,  Pa- 
rietes  ex  lapide,  Fundamina  aulae  ex  montibus 
fecere  Asae  sagaciores  V  " 

Here,  beyond  dispute,  is  an  enchanted  castle. 
And  not  only  so,  but  the  common  oriental 

1  "  But  the  Asiatics  were  more  quick-sighted ;  nay,  they 
foresaw  his  journey,  and  deceived  him  with  their  enchant- 
ments. Then  he  beheld  a'lofty  palace  ;  its  roofs  were  covered 
with  golden  shields,  like  a  new  roof.  Thus  Diodolfius  speaks 
of  it.  '  The  Asiatics,  more  skilful,  made  the  roof  of  shining 
gold,  and  its  walls  of  stone  ;  the  foundations  of  the  hall  were 
mountains.'  " — Goranson's  Lat.  Tr,  of  the  Edda. 


XXV111  INTRODUCTION. 

practice  of  putting  a  number  of  questions  as 
the  test  of  a  person's  wisdom,  occurs  in  this 
very  fable.  "  Qui  est  le  plus  ancien  ou  le 
premier  des  Dieux  ?"  is  first  asked,  and  other 
interrogatories  follow,  of  a  similar  character. 
Then  for  the  GIANTS — in  the  Runic  mytho- 
logy nothing  is  more  common.  Speaking  of 
the  formation  of  man,  the  Edda  observes,  (I 
follow  the  French  translation  of  M.  Mallet.) 
"  Get  homme  fut  appelle  Yme ;  les  Geans  le 
nomment  Oergelmer,  et  c'est  de  lui  que  toutes 
leurs  families  descendent,  comme  cela  est  dit 
dans  la  Voluspa.  {  Toutes  les  Prophetesses 
viennent  de  Vittolfe;  les  sages  de  Vilmode, 
LES  GEANS  de  Yme/  et  dans  un  autre  en- 
droit :  (  Des  fleuves  Elivages  ont  coule  des 
goutes  de  venim,  et  il  souffla  un  vent  d'ou  un 
Geant  fut  forme.  De  lui  viennent  toutes  les 
race  Gigantesques' l."  In  this  place  we  have 

1  Mythologie  Celtique.  p.  11. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXIX 

not  merely  an  accidental  notice  of  giants,  but 
their  full  genealogy,  and  a  quotation  from  a 
poem  still  more  ancient  than  the  Edda,  in- 
troduced in  support  of  it.  Afterwards  men- 
tion is  made  of  the  Dwarfs;  "Alors  les 
Dieux  s'etant  assis  sur  leurs  thrones  rendirent 
la  justice  et  delibererent  sur  ce  qui  concer- 
noit  les  NAINS.  Cette  espece  de  creatures 
s'etoit  formee  dans  la  poudre  de  la  terre, 
comme  les  vers  naissent  dans  un  cadavre1." 
And  again  of  the  Fairies  and  Genii,  or  beings 
answering  to  them.  "  Les  unes  sont  d'origine 
divine,  d'autres  descendent  des  GENIES,  d'au- 
tres  des  Nains,  comme  il  est  dit  dans  ses 
vers  :  //  y  a  des  FEES  de  diverse  origine,  quel- 
ques  unes  viennent  des  Dieux,  et  d'autres  des 
GENIES,  d'autres  des  Nains*"  This  fable 
gives  a  very  curious  account  of  the  fairies : 
"Voici,"  says  M.  Mallet,  "une  Theorie 


1  Mythologie  Celtique,  p.  30.  2  Ibid.  p.  36. 

VOL.  I.  b 


XXX  INTRODUCTION. 

complette  de  la  Feerie ;"  but  they  are  perhaps, 
as  Bishop  Percy  has  remarked,  more  analogous 
to  the  Weird  Sisters  than  to  the  popular  notion 
of  fairyism  in  the  present  day.  The  ninth  fable 
of  the  EDDA,  alludes  to  "LEs  GENIES  lumi- 
neux,"  who  '  are  said  to  be  "  plus  brillans 
que  le  soleil;  mais  les  noirs  sont  plus  noirs 
que  la  poix 1."  And  what  is  this  but  the  good 
and  bad  genii  of  eastern  romance?  Thor's 
"vaillante  ceinture,  qui  a  le  pouvoir  d'ac- 
croitre  ses  forces/'  and  the  "  chaine  magi- 
que2,"  are  equivalent  to  the  enchanted  ring; 
nor  are  "  le  grand  serpent  de  Midgard,"  with 
other  monsters,  so  unlike  the  oriental  Dra- 
gon 3,  as  to  preclude  any  comparison. 

In  short,  the  reader  clearly  distinguishes 
the  accordance  of  the  northern  mythology 

1  Mithologie  Celtique,  p.  40.  2  Ibid.  p.  84  and  90. 

3  The  Apocryphal  continuation  of  the  book  of  Esther,  and 
Bel  and  the  DRAGON,  seem  to  bespeak  the  prevalence  of  this  fic- 
tion in  the  East  at  a  very  early  period. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXI 

with  that  of  the  East.  I  could  cite  many 
more  examples,  but  they  are  unnecessary; 
and  if,  as  Mr.  Dunlop  imagines,  "in  the 
Eastern  Peris  we  may  trace  the  origin  of 
EUROPEAN  FAIRIES  V'  by  what  possible  con- 
trivance, if  he  will  be  consistent,  can  he  deny 
to  the  fairies  of  the  North,  that  claim  which 
he  grants  to  the  whole  of  EUROPE  ? 

I  shall  now  proceed  to  account  for  the  in- 
troduction of  romantic  fiction,  by  a  channel 
which  appears  to  me  the  most  natural,  and 
therefore,  the  most  likely  to  be  true.  I  would 
begin  with  that  period  in  which  the  persecu- 
tions of  the  pagan  rulers,  drove  the  primitive 
Christians  into  the  East.  Full  of  the  myste- 
rious wonders  of  the  Apocalypse,  not  less 
than  of  the  miraculous  records  of  the  Holy 
Gospels ;  imbued  with  all  that  the  Old  Tes- 
tament narrates,  and  probably  anticipating 
1  Hist,  of  Fiction,  Vol.  I.  p.  165. 

6  2 


XXX11  INTRODUCTION. 

similar  interposition  from  Heaven  in  their 
own  persons ;  their  minds  wrought  up  by 
many  causes  to  the  highest  pitch  of  enthu- 
siasm, and  their  hearts  glowing  with  a  fervour 
that  no  other  ages  can  boast — they  were  well 
prepared  to  receive  the  impressions  naturally 
made  upon  a  heated  fancy;  and  to  put  credit 
in  tales  which  the  distress  of  their  situation 
prevented  them  from  investigating,  and  their 
ignorance  or  credulity  debarred  from  doubt. 
Hence,  with  the  lives  of  the  Fathers  of  the 
Church,  they  interwove  prodigies  of  another 
land ;  and  being  further  willing  to  address  the 
prejudices  of  those  they  might  hope  to  con- 
vert, adorned  their  martyrologies  with  ficti- 
tious incidents  of  oriental  structure — even  as, 
to  conciliate  the  heathen,  they  introduced 
into  their  religious  buildings,  the  statues  of 
pagan  worship,  dignifying  them  with  novel 
names,  and  serving  them  with  novel  cere- 


INTBODUCTION.  XXX111 

monies.  Not  always  indeed  was  this  the 
process ;  nor  the  apotheosis  always  inten- 
tional. Succeeding  times  exhibited  another 
mode  of  realizing  fables,  if  I  may  so  speak  ; 
and  discovered  another  path  to  falsehood 
under  the  garb  of  truth.  The  monks  were 
accustomed  to  exercise  themselves  with  de- 
claiming upon  the  merits  of  their  patron  saint. 
To  give  a  new  varnish  to  his  fame,  to  excite 
yet  more  powerfully  either  the  intellects  or 
the  devotion  of  the  drowsy  brotherhood,  they 
added  romantic  fictions  of  their  own ;  and  in- 
vented familiar  stories,  derived  from  an  infi- 
nite variety  of  sources.  But  because  eastern 
imaginations  were  more  splendid  and  capti- 
vating— because  Jerusalem,  and  the  Holy  Se- 
pulchre were  in  the  East — because  "an  idle 
and  lying  horde  of  pilgrims  and  palmers,"  (as 
Mr.  Dunlop  expresses  it)  annually  brought 
thither  fresh  subjects  for  credulity  to  feed 
b  3 


XXXIV  INTRODUCTION. 

upon,  they  were  the  most  partial  to  oriental 
conceptions.  The  fables  which  they  thus 
constructed  were  laid  by,  fairly  transcribed, 
and  beautifully  illuminated ;  until,  in  due  time, 
the  monastery  coffers  were  ransacked,  and 
the  gross  and  acknowledged  inventions  of 
earlier  ascetics  were  imposed  upon  their  latter 
brethren,  as  the  undoubted  and  veritable  his- 
tory of  real  fathers  and  real  saints. 

It  is  well  known  that  in  the  earlier  ages  of 
Christianity  forged  gospels  were  put  forth  in 
imitation  of  the  true :  while  the  tenets  of  the 
Persian  magi  were  united  with  the  doctrines 
of  the  Son  of  God1.  If  this  prove  nothing 
further,  it  proves  the  facility  with  which  ori- 
ental dogmas  were  interwoven  with  those  of 
the  west.  At  a  more  advanced  period,  other 
legends  written  in  Latin,  and  professing  to 
be  narratives  of  what  actually  occurred,  were 
again  transcribed,  with  manifold  amplifica- 
1  See  Mosheim's  Eccles.  Hist.  Cent.  I.  and  III. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXV 

tions  by  those  into  whose  hands  the  manu- 
scripts might  happen  to  fall.  Metrical  ver- 
sions were  then  given;  and  their  popularity 
soon  induced  the  narrators  to  step  out  of 
their  immediate  walk  of  martyrdom,  to  raise  the 
standard  of  chivalry  in  the  persons  of  Brute, 
Alexander,  Charlemagne,  and  the  rest.  Let 
it  be  observed,  that  all  these  stories  are  of  a 
similar  cast;  the  Lives  of  the  Saints,  some 
how  or  other,  are  always  connected  with  the 
fictions  of  every  hero  of  chivalry.  They  in- 
variably work  marvels  in  behalf  of  their  vota- 
ries ;  they  bequeath  relics  of  surprizing  power — 
or  they  appear  in  dreams ;  or  the  utterance  of 
their  mighty  names  counteracts  the  potency 
of  magical  delusions,  &c.  &c.  while  the  hero 
himself,  treading  in  the  steps  of  his  canonized 
precursor,  becomes  a  distinguished  religieux ; 
and  at  last  takes  his  place  in  the  calendar — 
"  a  very,  very  SAINT." 

b  4 


XXXVI  INTRODUCTION. 

If  my  hypothesis,  therefore,  be  just,  with 
the  return  of  the  exiled  Christians  from  the 
East,  originated  romantic  fiction  in  Europe. 
But  this,  of  course,  must  be  taken  with  mo- 
difications. Time  alone  could  mature,  what 
in  its  progress  acquired  such  extensive  popu- 
larity ;  and  it  seems  to  me,  one  of  the  glaring 
defects  of  other  systems,  that  they  would  re- 
present the  rise  of  that  particular  kind  of 
fable  in  question  to  have  been  almost  instan- 
taneous :  to  have  followed  swift  upon  the  in- 
cursions of  the  Saracens — to  have  sprung  up 
mysteriously  among  the  Scandinavians,  or 
equally,  if  not  more  so,  among  the  Armori- 
cans.  Whereas,  that  which  was  so  wide  in  its 
extent — so  singular  in  its  effects — so  deeply 
impressed  on  a  large  portion  of  the  globe, 
must  inevitably  have  had  a  beginning,  and  a 
middle  :  it  must  have  been  long  crescent,  be- 
fore it  was  at  the  full.  It  is  true,  the  classical 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXVll 

system  has  not  all  the  objections  which  meet 
the  other,  on  the  score  of  precipitancy;  but 
still  it  accounts  only  for  that  part  of  romance 
which  is  evidently  built  upon  classic  ground. 
Much  of  the  machinery  is  wholly  different; 
and  from  the  comparatively  few  allusions — 
from  the  indistinct  and  monstrous  perversion 
of  Grecian  or  Roman  fable,  we  are  sure  that 
their  knowledge  was  very  limited.  But,  in 
fact,  a  union  of  classic  traditions  with  oriental 
fiction  is  not  only  probable  but  certain ;  yet 
my  hypothesis  still  traces  it  to  the  East1. 

1  The  process  by  which  Ulysses  preserved  himself  from 
the  charms  of  Circe,  is  very  similar  to  that  which  occurs  in 
the  story  of  "  Beder  Prince  of  Persia,  and  Giahaure  Princess 
of  Samandal,"  in  the  Arabian  Tales ;  and  the  fable  of  the 
Cyclops  is  found  in  the  third  voyage  of  Sinbad  the  Sailor. 
But  Homer  is  known  to  have  been  a  great  wanderer,  and  to 
have  picked  up  much  traditionary  matter  in  the  East  and 
elsewhere.  Speaking  of  the  fable  of  Atalanta,  Warton  has 
observed,  (Diss.  on  the  Gest.  Rom.  v.  3.)  that  "It  is  not 
impossible  that  an  oriental  apologue  might  have  given  rise  to 
the  Grecian  fable."  This,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  has  often 
been  the  case. 

b  5 


XXXVlll  INTRODUCTION. 

For  it  will  be  noticed,  that  Eastern  conceptions 
invariably  predominate,  even  where  the  sub- 
ject is  confessedly  classic;  as  in  the  stories 
of  Alexander,  Caesar,  and  others.  Besides 
the  incursions  of  these  leaders  into  that  quar- 
ter of  the  world,  might,  as  it  has  happened  in 
similar  cases,  leave  certain  traditionary  monu- 
ments of  their  own  belief 1.  This,  however,  I 
by  no  means  intend  to  urge. 

When  instances  of  those  who  fled,  or  were 
exiled  to  the  East,  or  voluntarily  settled  there, 
are  so  numerous,  it  would  be  idle  to  weary 
the  reader's  attention,  by  entering  into  any 
lengthened  detail.  The  names  of  Clemens  of 
Alexandria,  of  Ignatius,  Tertullian  and  Ori- 
gen,  are  conspicuous  in  the  second  and  third 
centuries,  with  many  others,  who  were  in 

1  There  is  in  the  British  Museum,  I  understand,  a  TUR- 
KISH MS.  Poem,  of  which  Alexander  the  Great  is  the  hero.  It 
is  said  to  have  been  written  in  the  14ih  century,  if  not  earlier. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXIX 

constant  intercourse  with  the  West ;  and  the 
soft  and  yielding  character  of  these  times 
presented  a  plastic  surface,  to  every,  even  the 
slightest  touch.  In  the  early  part  of  the 
fourth  century  the  foundation  of  Constanti- 
nople, which  drew  from  Italy  such  a  large  po- 
pulation, would  facilitate  the  interchange  of 
literature ;  for  it  is  not  improbable,  that  many 
of  the  Asiatics1,  driven  from  their  settlements 
by  the  influx  of  the  foreigners,  would  hasten 
to  occupy  the  homes  which  the  others  had  va- 
cated. At  all  events,  the  new  settlers  in  the 
East  had  friends  and  connections  in  their 
father-land,  with  whom  it  was  natural,  and 
even  necessary,  that  there  should  be  a  certain 

1  I  use  this  term,  and  one  or  two  following,  with  some  lati- 
tude. Gibbon  calls  the  little  town  of  Chrysopolis,  or  Scrutari, 
"  the  Asiatic  suburb  of  Constantinople:"  and  the  extreme 
•  approximation  of  the  two  shores ;  the  constant  and  easy  in- 
tercourse from,  and  before  the  time  of  Xerxes,  &c.  downward, 
not  omitting  the  Asiatic  population  which  has  been  so  long 
naturalized  there,  sufficiently  authorize  the  expression. 

b6 


xl  INTRODUCTION. 

intercourse.  Towards  the  conclusion  of  the 
third  century,  when  monachism  was  so  vehe- 
mently propagated,  and  the  East  inundated 
with  a  restless  class  of  men,  who  strolled  about 
in  pursuit  of  proselytes  (not  much  unlike  the 
errant-knights  of  a  subsequent  age)  the  posi- 
tion I  have  laid  down  is  more  clearly  evinced. 
It  would  be  doing  injustice  to  my  subject,  if, 
in  speaking  of  this  singular  fact,  I  used  other 
language  than  that  of  the  historian  of  the  Ro- 
man empire.  "  The  progress  of  the  monks/' 
says  this  philosophic  writer,  "  was  not  less 
rapid,  or  universal,  than  that  of  Christianity 
itself.  Every  province,  and  at  last,  every 
city  of  the  empire,  was  filled  with  their  in- 
creasing multitudes ;  and  the  bleak  and  bar- 
ren isles,  from  Lerins  to  Lipari,  that  arise  out 
of  the  Tuscan  sea,  were  chosen  by  the  Ana- 
chorets,  for  the  place  of  their  voluntary  exile. 
An  easy  and  perpetual  intercourse  by  sea  and 


INTRODUCTION.  xli 

land  connected  the  provinces  of  the  Roman 
world ;  and  the  life  of  Hilarion  displays  the 
facility  with  which  an  indigent  hermit  of  Pa- 
lestine, might  traverse  Egypt,  embark  for  Sici- 
ly, escape  to  Epirus,  and  finally  settle  in  the 
island  of  Cyprus.  The  Latin  Christians  em- 
braced the  religious  institutions  of  Rome. 
The  pilgrims,  who  visited  Jerusalem,  eagerly 
copied  in  the  most  distant  climes  of  the  earth, 
the  faithful  model  of  monastic  life.  The  dis- 
ciples of  Antony  spread  themselves  beyond  the 
tropic,  over  the  Christian  empire  of  (Ethiopia1. 
The  monastery  of  Banchor2,  in  Flintshire, 
which  contained  above  two  thousand  brethren, 
dispersed  a  numerous  colony  among  the  bar- 
barians of  Ireland ;  and  lona,  one  of  the  He- 
brides which  was  planted  by  the  Irish  monks, 

1  See  Jerom.  (torn.  i.  p.  126)  ;  Assemanni,  (Bibliot.  Orient, 
torn.  iv.  p.  92.  p.  857—919)  and  Geddes's  Church  Hist,  of 
(Ethiopia,  p.  29,  30,  31. 

2  Camden's  Britannia,  Vol.  i.  p.  666,  667. 


xlii  INTRODUCTION. 

diffused  over  the  northern  regions  a  doubtful 
ray  of  science  and  superstition1" 

The  roving  character  of  the  monks,  there- 
fore, is  another  link  of  the  chain  by  which  I 
introduce  oriental  fiction  into  the  West ;  and 
it  is  utterly  impossible,  (maturely  weighing 
the  habits  and  propensities  of  this  class  of 
people),  that  they  should  not  have  picked 
up  and  retained  the  floating  traditions  of  the 
countries  through  which  they  passed.  "  Some 
of  the  early  romances,"  says  Mr.  Walker2,  "  as 
well  as  the  legends  of  saints,  were  undoubt- 
edly fabricated  in  the  deep  silence  of  the  clois- 
ter. Both  frequently  sprung  from  the  warmth 
of  fancy,  which  religious  seclusion  is  so  well 
calculated  to  nourish ;  but  the  former  were 
adorned  with  foreign  embellishments."  It  is  ex- 


1  Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall,  Vol.  6.  p.  245,  6,  Ed.  1811. 

2  "  Essay  on  the  Origin  of  Romantic  Fabling  in  Ireland." 
p.  4.— 4to. 


INTRODUCTION.  xliii 

actly  on  this  footing,  (though  I  certainly  in- 
clude the  latter — that  is,  the  legends  of  the 
saints,  in  the  idea  of  foreign  embellishment !) 
that  I  would  place  the  hypothesis  I  have  ad- 
vanced ;  and  here  Mr.  Walker's  opinion,  that 
Ireland  is  indebted  to  Italy  for  some  of  her 
fictions,  derived  originally  from  the  East,  will 
find  confirmation.  They  might,  at  the  same 
time,  have  been  received,  by  way  of  ENGLAND, 
and  as  history  testifies  the  fact  of  a  colony  of 
monks  from  thence,  taking  root  in  Ireland, 
the  notion  is  more  than  probable.  But  in 
either  case,  the  original  is  the  same.  As  fur- 
ther corroborative  I  may  add,  that  in  the  ninth 
century,  Crete  and  Sicily  were  invaded  and 
conquered  by  the  Arabs ;  who  likewise  en- 
tered Italy,  and  almost  approached  Rome. 

I  need  scarcely  allude  to  the  crusades  as 
sources  of  romantic  fabling.  They  are  undis- 
puted parts  of  the  system;  and  probably,  at 


xliv  INTRODUCTION. 

the  termination  of  the  third  expedition,  toward 
the  close  of  the  twelfth  century,  this  kind  of 
writing  was  at  its  height.  Chivalry  was  then 
followed  with  a  steady  devotion,  which  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  soon  afterwards  abated ; 
and  was  rather  the  undulation  of  the  water, 
succeeding  the  tempest,  than  the  tempest  it- 
self. The  fourth  and  fifth  crusade  followed 
at  the  distance  of  about  twenty  years;  but 
upwards  of  thirty  elapsed  before  the  sixth  and 
last.  The  blood  and  coin  that  had  been  so 
uselessly  lavished,  might  well  conduce  to  sa- 
tisfy the  most  enthusiastic  crusader,  and  stem 
the  torrent  of  popular  superstition :  while  the 
surprizing  frenzy  that  had  so  long  desolated 
both  hemispheres,  from  its  very  intensity,  was 
calculated  to  subside,  and  introduce  a  juster 
mode  of  thinking,  and  more  rational  ideas. 
Time,  which  allays  all  other  passions,  could 
not  but  temper  this ;  and  the  last  of  these 


INTRODUCTION. 

frantic  expeditions  appears,  to  my  imagination, 
the  desperate  effort  of  expiring  fanaticism — 
the  last  violent  struggle  of  religious  persecu- 
tion in  the  East.  With  the  decline  of  chi- 
valry, the  fictions,  which  principally  attained 
their  celebrity  during  its  zenith,  (because 
they  had  become  incorporated  with  it ;  though 
originally  independent  and  extraneouss,)  would 
naturally  cease  to  be  regarded  ;  and  the  ex- 
travagant conceptions  which  this  institution 
cherished,  would,  when  good  sense  resumed, 
or  assumed  her  proper  place,  necessarily  fall 
into  decay. 


SECTION  II. 

I  now  hasten  to  the  GESTA  ROMANORUM  ; 
and  purpose  giving  a  brief  outline  of  its  his- 
tory, with  a  notice  of  certain  stories,  which, 


xlvi  INTRODUCTION. 

without  reference  to  their  own  individual 
merit,  have  been  raised  into  higher  import- 
ance by  furnishing  the  groundwork  of  many 
popular  dramas.  I  shall  also  take  occasion 
to  offer  a  few  remarks  upon  the  translation 
now  before  the  public,  elucidatory  of  certain 
points  which  seem  to  require  explanation. 

The  GESTA  ROMANORUM  was  one  of  the 
most  applauded  compilations  of  the  middle 
ages.  The  method  of  instructing  by  fables, 
is  a  practice  of  remote  antiquity;  and  has 
always  been  attended  with  very  considerable 
benefit.  Its  great  popularity  encouraged  the 
monks  to  adopt  this  medium,  not  only  for  the 
sake  of  illustrating  their  discourses,  but  of 
making  a  more  durable  impression  upon  the 
minds  of  their  illiterate  auditors.  An  abstract 
argument,  or  logical  deduction,  (had  they  been 
capable  of  supplying  it,)  would  operate  but 
faintly  upon  intellects,  rendered  even  more 


INTRODUCTION.  xlvii 

obtuse  by  the  rude  nature  of  their  customary 
occupations ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  an 
apposite  story,  would  arouse  attention,  and 
stimulate  the  blind  and  unenquiring  devotion, 
which  is  so  remarkably  characteristic  of  the 
middle  ages. 

The  work  under  consideration  is  compiled 
from  old  Latin  chronicles  of  Roman,  or  ra- 
ther, as  Mr.  Warton  and  Mr.  Douce  think, 
of  GERMAN  invention.  But  this  idea,  with 
all  submission,  derives  little  corroborative 
evidence  from  fact.  There  is  one  story,  and 
I  believe,  but  one,  which  gives  any  counte- 
nance to  it.  That  a  few  are  extracted  from 
German  authors,  (who  may  not,  after  all,  be 
the  inventors)  is  no  more  proof  that  the  com- 
piler was  a  German,  than  that,  because  some 
stories  are  found  in  the  Roman  annals,  the 
whole  book  was  the  production  of  a  Latin 
writer. 


xlviii  INTRODUCTION. 

Oriental,  legendary,  and  classical  fables, 
heightened  by  circumstances  of  a  strong  ro- 
mantic cast,  form  the  basis  of  this  sin-- 
gular  composition.  But  the  authorities 
cited  for  classical  allusions  are  of  the  lower 
order.  Valerius  Maximus,  Macrobius,  Aulus 
Gellius,  Pliny,  Seneca,  Boethius,  and  occa- 
sionally OVID,  are  introduced;  but  they 
do  not  always  contain  the  relation  which  they 
are  intended  to  substantiate;  and  it  is  in- 
variably much  disguised  and  altered.  The 
oriental  apologues  are  sometimes  from  the 
romance  of  "  Baarlam  and  Josaphat,"  and  in 
several  instances  from  a  Latin  work  entitled, 
"  De  Clericali  Disciplina,"  attributed  to  Petrus 
Alphonsus,  a  converted  Jew,  godson  to  Al- 
phonsus  I.  of  Arragon,  after  whom  he  was 
named.  There  is  an  analysis  of  it  by  Mr.  Douce 
inserted  in  Mr.  Ellis's  Specimens  of  Early 
English  Romances.  According  to  the  former  of 


INTRODUCTION.  xlix 

these  gentlemen,  two  productions  bearing  the 
title  of  GESTA  ROMANORUM,  and  totally  dis- 
tinct from  each  other,  exist.  I  confess,  I  see  no 
good  reason  for  the  assertion.  I  take  it  to  be 
the  same  work,  with  a  few  additions,  not  so 
considerable  by  any  means  as  Mr.  Douce 
imagines1.  This  I  shall  shew,  by  and  by. 
Of  the  present  performance,  though  it  pur- 
ports to  relate  the  GESTS  OF  THE  ROMANS, 
there  is  little  that  corresponds  with  the  title. 
On  the  contrary,  it  comprehends  "  a  multi- 
tude of  narratives,  either  not  historical;  or 
in  another  respect,  such  as  are  totally  uncon- 
nected with  the  Roman  people,  or  perhaps 

1  "  In  fact,  the  two  Gestas  may  just  as  well  be  considered 
the  same  work,  as  the  different  versions  of  the  Wise  Masters, 
or  of  Kalilah  u  Damnah.  The  term  Gesta  Romanorum  im- 
plies nothing  more  than  a  collection  of  ancient  stories,  many 
of  which  might  be  the  same,  but  which  would  naturally  vary 
in  various  countries  according  to  the  taste  of  the  collector,  in 
the  same  manner,  as  different  stories  are  introduced  in  the 
Greek  Syntipas,  the  Italian  Erastus,  and  English  "Wise  Mas- 
ters."— DUNL»P.  Hist,  of  Fiction,  Vol.  II.  p.  1  0. 


1  INTRODUCTION. 

the  most  preposterous  misrepresentations  of 
their  history.  To  cover  this  deviation  from 
the  promised  plan,  which,  by  introducing  a 
more  ample  variety  of  matter,  has  contributed 
to  increase  the  reader's  entertainment,  our 
collector  has  taken  care  to  preface  almost 
every  story  with  the  name  or  reign  of  a  Roman 
emperor;  who,  at  the  same  time,  is  often  a 
monarch  that  never  existed,  and  who  seldom, 
whether  real  or  supposititious,  has  any  con- 
cern with  the  circumstances  of  the  narra- 
tive1." 

The  influence  which  this  work  has  had  on 
English  poetry,  is  not  the  least  surprizing 
fact  connected  with  it.  Not  only  the  earlier 
writers  of  our  country — Gower,  Chaucer,  Lyd- 
gate,  Occleve,  &c.  have  been  indebted  to  it, 
but  also,  as  the  reader  will  perceive  in  the 
notes,  the  poets  of  modern  times.  Its  popu- 

1  WARTON.     Dissert,  on  G.  R.  p.  vii. 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

larity  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  is 
proved  by  many  allusions  in  the  works  of  that 
period.  An  anonymous  comedy,  published 
early  in  the  following  reign,  and  entitled 
"  Sir  Giles  Goosecap"  observes, — "  Then  for 
your  lordship's  quips  and  quick  jests,  why 
GESTA  ROMANORUM  were  nothing  to  them1." 
In  kChapman's  "  May-Day 2,"  a  person  speak- 
ing of  the  literary  information  of  another  cha- 
racter, styles  him — "  One  that  has  read  Mar- 
cus Aurelius,  GESTA  ROMANORUM,  the  Mir- 

rour  of  Magistrates,  &c to  be  led  by  the 

nose  like  a  blind  beare  that  has  read  no- 
thing 3 1" 

The  author  of  this  popular  work,  has  been 
often  guessed  at,  but  nothing  certain  is  known. 
Warton  believes  him  to  be  Petrus  Berchorius, 
or  Pierre  Bercheur,  a  native  of  Poitou ;  and 

1  London.     Printed  for  J.  Windet,  1606. 

2  Act  III.  p.  39.    1611.  3  WARTON. 


Hi  INTRODUCTION. 

prior  of  the  Benedictine  convent  of  Saint  Eloi, 
at  Paris,  in  the  year  1362.  Mr.  Douce,  on 
the  other  hand,  contends  that  he  is  a  German, 
because  "  in  the  Moralization  to  chapter  144," 
[Tale  LXIV.  of  the  second  volume  of  the 
translated  Gesta,]  "  there  is,  in  most  of  the 
early  editions,  a  German  proverb;  and  in 
chapter  142,"  [Tale  LXII.  Ibid.]  "several 
German  names  of  dogs."  I  apprehend,  how- 
ever, that  these  names  may  be  found  more 
analogous  to  the  Saxon;  and,  at  all  events, 
Warton's  idea  of  an  interpolation,  is  far  from 
improbable.  Mr.  Douce  adds,  that  the  ear- 
liest editions  of  the  Gesta  were  printed  in 
Germany ;  and  certainly,  they  often  bear  the 
name  of  some  place  in  this  country.  But  in 
the  first  ages  of  the  art  of  printing,  such 
might  be  the  case,  without  actually  identi- 
fying the  point  where  the  impression  was 
struck  off.  It  is  a  fact,  sufficiently  well 


INTRODUCTION.  liii 

known,  that  copies  of  certain  books,  printed 
in  Italy,  appeared,  in  every  respect  similar, 
and  at  the  same  time,  in  many  parts  of  Ger- 
many, the  Netherlands,  &c.  The  only  ob- 
servable difference  was  in  the  alteration  of 
names  in  the  title-page.  Now,  if  this  be  true, 
the  Gesta  Romanorum,  printed  in  Italy,  and 
thence  sent  for  sale  to  some  factor  in  distant 
parts,  might  have  this  person's  name  and  resi- 
dence affixed,  not  from  any  dishonest  motive, 
but  merely  to  announce  the  place  in  which 
they  were  to  be  sold.  Such  a  supposition  is 
not  beyond  the  bounds  of  probability,  and 
may  be  worth  considering.  Many  copies 
will  be  found  without  date  or  place ;  and  per- 
haps the  inconvenience  and  difficulty  which  a 
new  title-page  created,  might  on  some  occa- 
sions induce  the  booksellers  to  omit  it  alto- 
gether. 

ENGLISH  idioms  and  proverbial  expressions 

VOL.  i.  c 


liv  INTRODUCTION. 

are  so  frequent  in  the  Gesta  Romanorum,  that 
they  might  lead  to  a  supposition  quite  the 
reverse  of  Mr.  Douce's  idea;  but,  I  rather 
conceive  them  the  necessary  consequence  of 
transcription;  and  that  the  manuscript  was 
thought  to  require  verbal  flourishes,  as  well 
as  gilded  margins  and  illuminated  initials. 
In  like  manner,  I  account  for  the  Saxon 
names  of  dogs  [Tale  LXII.  Vol.  n.]  which  are 
quite  unnecessary,  and  seem  introduced  in 
the  most  arbitrary  manner.  The  incidents  of 
one  story  [Tale  LXXV.  Vol.  n.  page  305,]  are 
said  to  occur  in  the  bishopric  of  Ely.  "  This 
fact,"  says  the  writer  of  the  Gest,  "  related 
upon  the  faith  of  many  to  whom  it  was  well 
known,  /  have  myself  heard)  both  from  the 
inhabitants  of  the  place  and  others."  The 
inference,  therefore  is,  that  the  narrator  was 
either  an  Englishman,  or  one  well  acquainted 
with  the  localities  of  the  place  he  describes. 


INTRODUCTION.  Iv 

If  the  origin  of  the  other  stories  be  deducible 
from  the  position  laid  down  by  Mr.  Douce, 
then,  by  parity  of  reasoning,  the  writer  of  the 
tale  in  question  was  the  compiler  of  the  series 
— and  most  probably  an  Englishman :  at  all 
events,  his  work  might  be  prepared  in  Eng- 
land. But  this  would  not  be  conceded;  and 
it  is  only  by  supposing  an  interpolation  of 
the  story,  or  of  part  of  the  story,  that  the 
difficulty  is  to  be  obviated.  At  any  rate,  the 
circumstance  itself  cannot  justly  be  adduced 
in  proof  either  one  way  or  the  other.  But 
whoever  was  the  author,  or  authors,  (which  is 
more  probable),  and  wherever  they  were  pro- 
duced, it  is  for  the  most  part  agreed  that  these 
tales  were  collected  as  early  as  the  commence- 
ment of  the  fourteenth  century — if  not  long 
before.  Through  a  period  of  five  hundred 
years,  they  have  afforded  a  popular  entertain- 
ment :  the  uncultivated  minds  of  the  middle 
c2 


Ivi  INTRODUCTION. 

ages  valued  them  as  a  repertory  of  theologi- 
cal information,  and  later  times  as  an  inex- 
haustible fund  of  dramatic  incident. 

Of  that  which  is  called  by  Mr.  Douce  the 
ENGLISH  GESTA,  it  now  remains  to  speak. 
"This  work  was  undoubtedly  composed  in 
England  in  imitation  of  the  other ;  and  there- 
fore, it  will  be  necessary  for  the  future  to 
distinguish  the  two  works  by  the  respective 
appellations  of  the  original)  and  the  English 
Gesta.1"  "It  is  natural  to  suppose,  that  a 
work  like  the  original  Gesfa  would  stimulate 
some  person  to  the  compilation  of  one  that 
should  emulate,  if  not  altogether  supersede 
it;  and  accordingly  this  design  was  accom- 
plished at  a  very  early  period  by  some 
Englishman,  in  all  probability,  a  monk2/' 
The  feeling  on  my  mind  with  regard  to  this 

1  Douce.     Illiistr.  of  Shakspeare,  Vol.  II.  p.  362. 

2  Ibid,  p  364. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ivii 

Gesta  certainly  is,  that  it  was  intended  for 
the  same  work  as  the  original;  but  that,  in 
the  transcription,  with  the  latitude  which  the 
"Adam  scriveners"  of  old  invariably  allowed 
themselves,  many  alterations,  (miscalled  im- 
provements,) were  made,  together  with  some 
additions.  The  English  translations  of  this 
last  compilation  vary  frequently  from  their 
original.  For  instance,  in  the  eighteenth 
chapter  of  the  MS.  ["English"]  Gesta,  fol. 
17.  a  knight  falls  in  love  with  Aglaes,  daugh- 
ter of  the  emperor  POLENTIUS;  but  in  the 
English  translation  of  the  story  (in  1648,  a 
thin  18mo.  containing  forty-four  stories)  this 
same  person  is  styled  PHILOMINUS.  It  forms 
"The  fourteenth  History."  Now  the  fact, 
that  no  manuscript  of  this  Gesta,  exists 
in  any  of  the  catalogues  of  continental  libra- 
ries, is  easily  accounted  for,  on  the  supposi- 
tion of  its  being  transcribed  in  England,  and 
c3 


Iviii  INTRODUCTION. 

consequently  confined  to  this  country.  For 
other  nations,  being  in  possession  of  an  authen- 
ticated original,  would  have  little  inducement 
to  seek  after  a  newly  fabricated  copy.  English 
verses  found  therein,  with  English  proper 
names,  and  English  law  terms,  and  modes  of 
speech,  (arguments  on  which  Mr.  Douce  lays 
much  stress,)  no  more  constitute  another 
work  than  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,  translated 
by  Roscommon;  or  than  Donne's  Satires, 
modernized  by  Pope. 

As  the  annexed  tales  gave  occasion  to  some 
of  Shakspeare's  plays,  and  moreover  are  not 
defective  in  that  kind  of  interest  which  is  the 
peculiar  merit  of  such  things,  I  shall  tran- 
scribe as  many  as  appear  in  the  English 
translation1,  following  Mr.  Douce's  arrange- 


1  I  follow  a  copy  printed  in  1703,  "  for  R.  Chiswell,  B.  Wai- 
ford,  G.  Conyers,  at  the  King  in  Little  Britain,  and  J.  W."  It  is 
a  reprint  of  the  edition  of  1648,  containing  forty-four  stories ;  and 


INTRODUCTION.  lix 

ment,  in  order  to  shew  that  the  difference 
between  the  two  Gestas  is  not  so  wide  as  this 
gentleman  appears  to  imagine.  Such  as  are 
of  no  interest,  I  shall  omit. 

CHAPTER  I. 

There  reigned  some  time  in  Eome  a  wise  and 
mighty  Emperor,  named  Anselm,  who  did  bear  in 
his  arms  a  shield  of  silver  with  five  red  roses  ;  this 
emperor  had  three  sons  whom  he  loved  much ;  he 
had  also  continual  war  with  the  king  of  Egypt,  in 
which  war  he  lost  all  his  temporal  goods  except  a 
precious  tree.  It  fortuned  after  on  a  day  that  he 
gave  battel  to  the  same  king  of  Egypt,  wherein  he 
was  grievously  wounded,  nevertheless  he  obtained 
the  victory,  not  withstanding  he  had  hi  s  deadly  wound : 
wherefore  while  he  lay  at  point  of  death,  he  called 

is  rather  scarce.  The  title-page  assures  us  that  it  is  "  very  plea- 
sant in  reading,  and  profitable  in  practice."  I  hope  it  may  be 
found  so.  Amongst  tke  late  Sir  M.  M.  Sykes's  books,  was  a 
Black  Letter  copy  of  the  same  work,  printed  in  1672,  "  by 
Edward  Crouch  for  A  Crook."  It  is  in  excellent  condition*- 
which  most  other  copies  are  not. 

c4 


]x  INTRODUCTION. 

unto  his  eldest  son,  and  said  :  My  dear  and  well-be- 
loved son,  all  my  temporal  riches  are  spent,  and 
almost  nothing  is  left  me,  but  a  precious  tree,  the 
which  stands  in  the  midst  of  my  empire ;  I  give  to 
thee  all  that  is  under  the  earth,  and  above  the  earth 
of  the  same  tree.  O  my  reverend  father  (quoth  he) 
I  thank  you  much. 

Then  said  the  emperor,  call  to  me  my  second  son. 
Anon  the  eldest  son  greatly  joying  of  his  father's 
gift,  called  in  his  brother ;  and  when  he  came,  the 
emperor  said,  my  dear  son,  I  may  not  make  my 
testament,  forasmuch  as  I  have  spent  all  my  goods, 
except  a  tree  which  stands  in  the  midst  of  mine 
empire,  of  the  which  tree,  I  bequeath  to  thee  all 
that  is  great  and  small.  Then  answered  he  and 
said,  my  reverend  father,  I  thank  you  much. 

Then  said  the  emperor,  call  to  me  my  third  son, 
and  so  it  was  done.  And  when  he  was  come,  the 
emperor  said,  My  dear  son,  I  must  die  of  these 
wounds,  and  I  have  only  a  precious  tree,  of  which 
I  have  given  thy  brethren  their  portion,  and  to  thee 
I  bequeath  thy  portion  :  for  I  will  that  thou  have  of 
the  said  tree  all  that  is  wet  and  dry.  Then  said  his 
son,  Father,  I  thank  you.  Soon  after  the  emperor 
had  made  his  bequest,  he  died.  And  shortly  after 
the  eldest  son  took  possession  of  the  tree.  Now 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixi 

when  the  second  son  heard  this,  he  came  to  him,  say- 
ing, My  brother,  by  what  law  or  title  occupy  you 
this  tree  ?  Dear  brother,  quoth  he,  I  occupy  it  by 
this  title,  my  father  gave  me  all  that  is  under  the 
earth,  and  above  of  the  said  tree,  by  reason  thereof 
the  tree  is  mine.  Unknowing  to  thee,  quoth  the 
second  brother,  he  gave  unto  me  all  that  is  great 
and  small  of  the  said  tree,  and  therefore  I  have  as 
great  right  in  the  tree  as  you.  This  hearing  the 
third  son,  he  came  to  them  and  said,  My  well-be- 
loved brethren  it  behoveth  you  not  to  strive  for  this 
tree,  for  I  have  as  much  right  in  the  tree  as  ye,  for 
by  the  law  ye  wot,  that  the  last  will  and  testament 
ought  to  stand,  for  of  truth  he  gave  me  of  the  said 
tree  all  that  is  wet  and  dry,  and  therefore  the  tree 
by  right  is  mine :  but  forasmuch  as  your  words  are 
of  great  force  and  mine  also,  my  counsel  is,  that  we 
be  judged  by  reason :  for  it  is  not  good  nor  com- 
mendable that  strife  or  dissension  should  be  among 
us.  Here  beside  dwelleth  a  king  full  of  reason, 
therefore  to  avoid  strife  let  us  go  to  him,  and  each 
of  us  lay  his  right  before  him ;  and  as  he  shall 
judge,  let  us  stand  to  his  judgment :  then  said  his 
brethren  thy  counsel  is  good,  wherefore  they  went 
all  three  unto  the  king  of  reason,  and  each  of  them 
c5 


Ixii  INTRODUCTION. 

severally  sheweth  forth  his  right  unto  him,  as  it  is 
said  before. 

When  the  king  had  heard  the  titles,  he  rehearsed 
them  all  again  severally  :  First,  saying  to  the  eldest 
son  thus  :  You  say  (quoth  the  king)  that  your  father 
gave  you  all  that  is  under  the  earth  and  above  the 
earth  of  the  said  tree.  And  to  the  second  brother 
he  bequeathed  all  that  is  great  and  small  of  that  tree. 
And  to  the  third  brother  he  gave  all  that  is  wet  and 
dry. 

And  with  that  he  laid  the  law  to  them,  and  said 
that  this  will  ought  to  stand. 

Now  my  dear  friends,  briefly  I  shall  satisfie  all 
your  requests,  and  when  he  had  thus  said,  he  turned 
him  unto  the  eldest  brother,  saying,  My  dear  friend, 
if  you  list  to  abide  the  judgment  of  right,  it  be- 
hoveth  you  to  be  letten  blood  of  the  right  arm. 
My  lord,  (quoth  he)  your  will  shall  be  done.  Then 
the  king  called  for  a  discreet  physician,  command- 
ing him  to  let  him  blood. 

When  the  eldest  son  was  letten  blood,  the  king 
said  unto  them  all  three  :  My  dear  friends,  where  is 
your  father  buried  ?  then  answered  they  and  said : 
forsooth  my  lord  in  such  a  place.  Anon  the  king 
commanded  to  dig  in  the  ground  for  the  body,  and 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixiii 

to  take  a  bone  out  of  his  breast,  and  to  bury  the  body 
again :  and  so  it  was  done.  And  when  the  bone  was 
taken  out,  the  king  commanded  that  it  should  be 
laid  in  the  blood  of  the  elder  brother, -and  it  should 
lie  till  it  had  received  kindly  the  blood,  and  then  to 
be  laid  in  the  sun  and  dried,  and  after  that  it  should 
be  washt  with  clear  water :  his  servants  fulfilled  all 
that  he  had  commanded  :  and  when  they  began  to 
wash,  the  blood  vanished  clean  away,  when  the  king 
saw  this,  he  said  to  the  second  son,  It  behoveth  that 
thou  be  letten  blood,  as  thy  brother  was.  Then  said 
he,  My  lord's  will  shall  be  fulfilled,  and  anon  he  was 
done  unto  like  as  his  brother  was  in  all  things,  and 
when  theybeganto  wash  the  bone,  the  blood  vanished 
away.  Then  said  the  king  to  the  third  son,  It  be- 
hoveth thee  to  be  letten  blood  likewise.  He  answered 
and  said,  My  lord  it  pleaseth  me  well  so  to  be.  When 
the  youngest  brother  was  letten  blood,  and  done  unto 
in  all  things  as  the  two  brethren  were  before,  then 
the  king's  servants  began  to  wash  the  bone,  but  nei- 
ther for  washing  nor  rubbing  might  they  do  away 
the  blood  of  the  bone,  but  it  ever  appeared  bloody  : 
when  the  king  saw  this,  he  said  it  appeareth  openly 
now  that  this  blood  is  of  the  nature  of  the  bone» 
thou  art  his  true  son,  and  the  other  two  are  bastards, 
I  judge  thee  the  tree  for  evermore. 
c6 


Ixiv  INTRODUCTION. 


CHAPTER  II. 

In  Borne  there  dwelt  sometimes  a  noble  empe- 
ror, named  Dioclesian,  who  loved  exceedingly  the 
vertue  of  charity,  wherefore  he  desired  greatly  to 
know  what  fowl  loved  her  young  best,  to  the  intent 
that  he  might  thereby  grow  to  more  perfect  cha- 
rity ;  it  fortuned  upon  a  day,  that  the  emperor  rode 
to  a  forrest  to  take  his  disport,  whereas  he  found 
the  nest  of  a  great  bird,  (called  in  Latin  struchio 
calemi,  in  English  an  ostridge)  with  her  young,  the 
which  young  bird  the  emperor  took  with  him,  and 
closed  her  in  a  vessel  of  glass,  the  dam  of  this  little 
bird  followed  unto  the  emperor's  palace,  and  flew 
into  the  hall  where  her  young  one  was.  But  when 
she  saw  her  young  one,  and  could  not  come  to  her, 
nor  get  her  out,  she  returned  again  to  the  forrest, 
and  abode  there  three  days,  and  at  the  last  she 
came  again  to  the  palace,  bearing  in  her  mouth  a 
worm  called  thumare,  and  when  she  came  where 
her  young  one  was,  she  let  the  worm  fall  upon  the 
glass,  by  virtue  of  which  worm  the  glass  brake,  and 
the  young  one  flew  forth  with  her  dam.  When  the 
emperor  saw  this,  he  praised  much  the  dam  of  the 


INTRODUCTION. 


bird,  which  laboured  so  diligently  to  deliver  her 
young  one. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

"  The  emperor  Gauterus,"  &c.  —  This  is  the 
XXIst  Tale,  Vol.  II.  of  the  original  Gesta  ;  and,  as 
the  reader  will  see,  not  related  with  much  variety. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

In  Rome  some  time  dwelt  a  mighty  emperor 
named  Philominus,  who  had  one  only  daughter, 
who  was  fair  and  gracious  in  the  sight  of  every  man, 
who  had  to  name  Aglaes.  There  was  also  in  the 
emperor's  palace  a  gentle  knight  that  loved  dearly 
this  lady.  It  befel  after  on  a  day,  that  this  knight 
talked  with  this  lady,  and  secretly  uttered  his  de- 
sire to  her.  Then  she  said  courteously,  seeing  you 
have  uttered  to  me  the  secrets  of  your  heart,  I  will 
likewise  for  your  love  utter  to  you  the  secrets  of 
my  heart,  and  truly  I  say,  that  above  all  other  I 
love  you  best.  Then  said  the  knight,  I  purpose  to 
visit  the  Holy  Land,  and  therefore  give  me  your 
troth,  that  this  seven  years  you  shall  take  no  other 


Ixvi  INTRODUCTION. 

man,  but  only  for  my  love  to  tarry  for  me  so  long, 
and  if  I  come  not  again  by  this  day  seven  years, 
then  take  what  man  you  like  best.  And  likewise  I 
promise  you  that  within  this  seven  years  I  will  take 
no  wife.  Then  said  she,  this  covenant  pleaseth  me 
well.  When  this  was  said,  each  of  them  was  be- 
trothed to  other,  and  then  this  knight  took  his  leave 
of  the  lady,  and  went  to  the  Holy  Land.  Shortly 
after  the  emperor  treated  with  the  king  of  Hunga- 
ria  for  the  marriage  of  his  daughter.  Then  came 
the  king  of  Hungary  to  the  emperor's  palace,  to  see 
his  daughter,  and  when  he  had  seen  her,  he  liked 
marvellous  well  her  beauty  and  her  behaviour,  so 
that  the  emperor  and  the  king  were  accorded  in  all 
things  as  touching  the  marriage,  upon  the  condi- 
tion that  the  damsel  would  consent.  Then  called 
the  emperor  the  young  lady  to  him,  and  said,  O 
my  fair  daughter,  I  have  provided  for  thee,  that  a 
king  shall  be  thy  husband,  if  thou  list  consent,  there- 
fore tell  me  what  answer  thou  wilt  give  to  this. 
Then  said  she  to  her  father,  it  pleaseth  me  well : 
but  one  thing,  dear  father,  I  entreat  of  you,  if  it 
might  please  you  to  grant  me  :  I  have  vowed  to 
keep  my  virginity,  and  not  to  marry  these  seven 
years  ;  therefore,  dear  father,  I  beseech  you  for  all 
the  love  that  is  between  your  gracious  fatherhood 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixvii 

and  me  that  you  name  no  man  to  be  my  husband 
till  these  seven  years  be  ended,  and  then  I  shall  be 
ready  in  all  things  to  fulfil  your  will.  Then  said 
the  emperor,  sith  it  is  so  that  thou  hast  thus  vowed, 
I  will  not  break  thy  vow,  but  when  these  seven  years 
be  expired,  thou  shalt  have  the  king  of  Hungary  to 
thy  husband. 

Then  the  emperor  sent  forth  his  letters  to  the 
king  of  Hungary,  praying  him  if  it  might  please 
him  to  stay  seven  years  for  the  love  of  his  daughter, 
and  then  he  should  speed  without  fail.  Herewith 
the  king  was  pleased  and  content  to  stay  the  prefixed 
day. 

And  when  the  seven  years  were  ended,  save  a 
day,  the  young  lady  stood  in  her  chamber  window, 
and  wept  sore,  saying,  Woe  and  alas,  as  to-morrow 
my  love  promised  to  be  with  me  again  from  the 
Holy  Land :  and  also  the  king  of  Hungary  to-mor- 
row will  be  here  to  marry  me,  according  to  my  fa- 
ther's promise :  and  if  my  love  comes  not  at  a  cer- 
tain hour,  then  am  I  utterly  deceived  of  the  inward 
love  I  bear  to  him. 

"When  the  day  came,  the  king  hasted  toward  the 

emperor,  to  marry  his  daughter,  and  was  royally 

arrayed  in  purple.     And  while  the  king  was  riding 

on  his  way,  there  came  a  knight  riding  011  his  way, 

7 


Ixviii  INTRODUCTION. 

who  said,  I  am  of  the  empire  of  Rome,  and  now  am 
lately  come  from  the  Holy  Land,  and  I  am  ready  to 
do  you  the  best  service  I  can.  And  as  they  rode 
talking  by  the  way,  it  began  to  rain  so  fast,  that  all 
the  king's  apparel  was  sore  wet :  then  said  the 
knight,  my  lord  ye  have  done  foolishly,  for  as  much 
as  ye,  brought  not  with  you  your  house  :  then  said 
the  king,  "Why  speakest  thou  so  ?  My  house  is  large 
and  broad,  and  made  of  stones,  and  mortar,  how 
should  I  bring  then  with  me,  my  house  ?  thou  speak- 
est like  a  fool.  "When  this  was  said,  they  rode  on  till 
they  came  to  a  great  deep  water,  and  the  king  smote 
his  horse  with  his  spurs,  and  leapt  into  the  water,  so 
that  he  was  almost  drowned.  When  the  knight 
saw  this,  and  was  over  on  the  other  side  of  the 
water  without  peril,  he  said  to  the  king,  Te  were 
in  peril,  and  therefore  ye  did  foolishly,  because 
you  brought  not  with  you  your  bridge.  Then 
said  the  king,  thou  speakest  strangely,  my  bridge  is 
made  of  lime  and  stone,  and  containeth  in  quality 
more  than  half  a  mile :  how  should  I  then  bear  with 
me  my  bridge  ?  therefore  thou  speakest  foolishly. 
"Well,  said  the  knight,  my  foolishness  may  turn  thee 
to  wisdom.  "When  the  king  had  ridden  a  little  fur- 
ther, he  asked  the  knight  what  time  of  day  it  was. 
Then  said  the  knight,  if  any  man  hath  list  to  eat,  it 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixix 

is  time  of  the  day  to  eat.  "Wherefore  my  lord,  pray 
take  a  modicum  with  me,  for  that  is  no  dishonour  to 
you,  but  great  honour  to  me  before  the  states  of 
this  empire  :  Then  said  the  king,  I  will  gladly  eat 
with  thee.  They  sat  both  down  in  a,  fair  vine  gar- 
den, and  there  dined  together,  both  the  king  and 
the  knight.  And  when  dinner  was  done,  and  that 
the  king  had  washed,  the  knight  said  unto  the  king, 
My  lord  ye  have  done  foolishly,  for  that  ye  brought 
not  with  you  your  father  and  mother.  Then,  said 
the  king,  what  sayest  thou  ?  My  father  is  dead, 
and  my  mother  is  old,  and  may  not  trave],  how 
should  I  then  bring  them  with  me  ?  therefore  to  say 
the  truth,  a  foolisher  man  than  thou  art  did  I  never 
hear.  Then  said  the  knight,  every  work  is  praised 
at  the  end. 

When  the  knight  had  ridden  a  little  further,  and 
nigh  to  the  emperor's  palace,  he  asked  leave  to  go 
from  him,  for  he  knew  a  nearer  way  to  the  palace, 
to  the  young  lady,  that  he  might  come  first,  and 
carry  her  away  with  him.  Then  said  the  king,  I 
pray  thee  tell  me  by  what  place  thou  purposest  to 
ride  ?  then  said  the  knight,  I  shall  tell  you  the  truth : 
this  day  seven  years  I  left  a  net  in  a  place,  and 
now  I  purpose  to  visit  it,  and  draw  it  to  me,  and  it" 
it  be  whole,  then  will  I  take  it  to  me,  and  keep  it 
c  9 


Ixx  INTRODUCTION. 

as  a  precious  jewel ;  if  it  be  broken,  then  will  I 
leave  it :  and  when  he  had  thus  said,  he  took  his 
leave  of  the  king,  and  rode  forth,  but  the  king  kept 
the  broad  highway. 

"When  the  emperor  heard  of  the  king's  coming, 
he  went  towards  him  with  a  great  company,  and 
royally  received  him,  causing  him  to  shift  his  wet 
cloaths,  and  to  put  on  fresh  apparel.  And  when 
the  emperor  and  the  king  were  set  at  meat,  the 
emperor  welcomed  him  with  all  the  chear  and  so- 
lace that  he  could.  And  when  he  had  eaten,  the 
emperor  asked  tydings  of  the  king ;  My  lord,  said 
he,  I  shall  tell  you  what  I  have  heard  this  day  by 
the  way:  there  came  a  knight  to  me,  and  reve- 
rently saluted  me  j  and  anon  after  there  fell  a  great 
rain,  and  greatly  spoiled  my  apparel.  And  anon 
the  knight  said,  Sir,  ye  have  done  foolishly,  for 
that  ye  brought  not  with  you  your  house.  Then 
said  the  emperor,  what  cloathing  had  the  knight 
on  ?  A  cloak,  quoth  the  king.  Then  said  the  em- 
peror, sure  that  was  a  wise  man,  for  the  house 
whereof  he  spake  was  a  cloak,  and  therefore  he  said 
to  you,  that  you  did  foolishly,  because  you  came 
without  your  cloak,  then  your  cloaths  had  not  been 
spoiled  with  rain.  Then  said  the  king,  when  he 
bad  ridden  a  little  further,  we  came  to  a  deep 


INTRODUCTION. 

water,  and  I  smote  my  horse  with  my  spurs,  and  I 
was  almost  drowned,  but  he  rid  through  the  water 
without  any  peril:  then  said  he  to  me,  you  did 
foolishly,  for  that  you  brought  not  with  you  your 
bridge.  Verily  said  the  emperor,  he  saith  truth, 
for  he  called  the  squires  the  bridge,  that  should  have 
ridden  before  you,  and  assayed  the  deepness  of  the 
water.  Then  said  the  king,  we  rode  further,  and 
at  the  last  he  prayed  me  to  dine  with  him.  And 
when  he  had  dined,  he  said,  I  did  unwisely,  because 
I  brought  not  with  me  my  father  and  mother. 
Truly  said  the  emperor,  he  was  a  wise  man,  and  saith 
[wisely]  :  for  he  called  your  father  and  mother,  bread 
and  wine,  and  other  victual.  Then  said  the  king, 
we  rode  further,  and  anon  after  he  asked  me  leave 
to  go  from  me,  and  I  asked  earnestly  whether  he 
went :  and  he  answered  again,  and  said,  this  day 
seven  years,  I  left  a  net  in  a  private  place,  and 
now  I  will  ride  to  see  it ;  and  if  it  be  broken  and 
torn,  then  will  I  leave  it,  but  if  it  be  as  I  left  it, 
then  shall  it  be  unto  me  right  precious.  "When  the 
emperor  heard  this,  he  cryed  with  a  loud  voice,  and 
said,  O  ye  my  knights  and  servants,  come  ye  with 
me  speedily  unto  my  daughter's  chamber,  for  surely 
that  is  the  net  of  which  he  spake ;  and  forthwith  his 


Ixxii  INTRODUCTION. 

knights  and  servants  went  unto  his  daughter's  cham- 
ber, and  found  her  not,  for  the  aforesaid  knight  had 
taken  her  with  him.  And  bhus  the  king  was  de- 
ceived of  the  damsel,  and  he  went  home  again  to 
his  own  country  ashamed. 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Theodosius  reigned,  a  wise  emperour,  in  the 
city  of  Borne,  and  mighty  he  was  of  power ;  the 
which  emperour  had  three  daughters.  So  it  liked 
to  this  emperour  to  know  which  of  his  daughters 
loved  him  best.  And  then  he  said  to  the  eldest 
daughter,  how  much  lovest  thou  me  ?  forsooth, 
quoth  she,  more  than  I  do  myself,  therefore,  quoth 
he,  thou  shalt  be  highly  advanced,  and  married  her 
to  a  rich  and  mighty  king.  Then  he  came  to  the 
second,  and  said  to  her,  daughter,  how  much  lovest 
thou  me  ?  As  much,  forsooth,  said  she,  as  I  do 
myself.  So  the  emperour  married  her  to  a  duke. 
And  then  he  said  to  the  third  daughter,  how  much 
lovest  thou  me  ?  forsooth,  quoth  she,  as  much  as 
ye  be  worthy,  and  no  more.  Then  said  the  empe- 
rour, daughter,  sith  thou  lovest  me  no  more,  thou 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixxiii 

sbalt  not  be  married  so  richly  as  thy  sisters  be.  And 
then  he  married  her  to  an  earl.  After  this  it  hap- 
pened that  the  emperour  held  battle  against  the 
king  of  Egypt.  And  the  king  drove  the  emperour 
out  of  the  empire,  in  so  much  that  the  emperour 
had  no  place  to  abide  in.  So  he  wrote  letters,  en- 
sealed  with  his  ring,  to  his  first  daughter,  that  said 
that  she  loved  him  more  than  herself,  for  to  pray 
her  of  succouring  in  that  great  need,  because  he  was 
put  out  of  his  empire.  And  when  the  daughter  had 
read  these  letters,  she  told  it  to  the  king,  her  hus- 
band. Then,  quoth  the  king,  it  is  good  that  we 
succour  him  in  this  need.  I  shall,  quoth  he,  ga- 
theren  an  host  and  help  him  in  all  that  I  can  or  may, 
and  that  will  not  be  done  without  great  costage. 
Yea,  quoth  she,  it  were  sufficient  if  that  we  would 
grant  him  five  knights  to  be  in  fellowship  with  him, 
while  he  is  out  of  his  empire.  And  so  it  was  ydone 
indeed.  And  the  daughter  wrote  again  to  the  fa- 
ther, that  other  help  might  he  not  have  but  five 
knights  of  the  king  to  be  in  his  fellowship,  at  the 
cost  of  the  king  her  husband.  And  when  the  em- 
perour heard  this,  he  was  heavy  in  his  heart,  and 
said,  alas  !  alas  !  all  my  trust  was  in  her  for  she 
said  she  loved  me  more  than  herself,  and  therefore 
I  advanced  her  so  high. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Then  he  wrote  to  the  second  that  said  she 
loved  him  as  much  as  herself,  and  when  she  had 
read  his  letters,  she  shewed  his  errand  to  her  hus- 
band, and  gave  him  in  counsel  that  he  should  find 
him  meat  and  drink  and  clothing  honestly,  as  for 
the  state  of  such  a  lord  during  time  of  his  need. 
And  when  this  was  granted,  she  wrote  letters  again 
to  her  father.  The  emperor  was  heavy  with  this 
answer  and  said,  "  Sith  my  two  daughters  have 
thus  treated  me,  soothly  I  shall  prove  the  third." 
And  so  he  wrote  to  the  third,  that  said  she  loved 
him  as  much  as  he  was  worthy,  and  prayed  her  of 
succour  in  his  need,  and  told  her  the  answer  of  her 
two  sisters.  So  the  third  daughter,  when  she  had 
considered  the  mischief  of  her  father,  she  told  her 
husband  in  this  form  :  "  My  worshipful  lord,  do 
succour  me  now  in  this  great  need,  my  father  is 
put  out  of  his  empire  and  his  heritage.'  Then  spake 
he,  '  What  were  thy  will,  I  do  thereto  ?'  <  That  ye 
gather  a  great  host,'  quoth  she,  '  and  help  him  to 
fight  against  his  enemies.'  '  I  shall  fulfil  thy  will,' 
said  the  earl,  and  gathered  a  great  host,  and  went 
with  the  emperour  at  his  own  costage  to  the  battle, 
and  had  the  victory,  and  set  the  emperour  again  in 
his  heritage.  And  then  said  the  emperour,  '  blessed 
be  the  hour  I  gat  my  youngest  daughter  :  I  loved 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixxv 

her  less  than  any  of  the  other,  and  now  in  my  need 
she  hath  succoured  me,  and  the  other  have  yfailed 
me  ;  and  therefore  after  my  death  she  shall  have 
mine  empire.  And  so  it  was  done  indeed ;  for  after 
the  death  of  the  emperour,  the  youngest  daughter 
reigned  in  his  stead,  and  ended  peaceably.  HAEL. 
MS.  No.  7333. 

This,  as  the  reader  will  be  aware,  is  the  story  of 
Lear  in  Shakspeare  ;  but  there  were  many  popular 
tales  built  upon  the  same  story. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

There  was  a  powerful  emperor  called  Andro- 
nicus,  before  whom  a  knight  was  wrongfully  ac- 
cused. When  the  charge  could  not  be  substanti- 
ated, his  majesty  proposed  to  him  certain  puzzling 
questions,  which  were  to  be  accurately  answered, 
under  pain  of  death.  The  knight  expressed  him- 
aelf  ready  to  do  his  best.  Then  said  the  emperor, 
'  How  far  is  heaven  distant  from  hell  ?  That  is  the 
first  question/  '  As  far/  replied  he,  '  as  a  sigh  is 
from  the  heart.' 

Emperor.  And  how  deep  is  the  sea  ? 

Knight.  A  stone's  throw. 


Ixxvi  INTRODUCTION. 

Emperor.  How  many  flaggons  of  salt  water  are 
there  in  the  sea  ? 

Knight.  Give  me  the  number  of  flaggons  of  fresh 
water,  and  I  will  tell  you. 

******** 

Emperor.  To  the  first  question  you  answered, 
that  the  distance  between  heaven  and  hell,  was  as 
great  as  between  a  sigh  and  the  heart.  How  can 
this  be  ? 

Knight.  A  sigh  passes  from  the  heart  with  the 
rapidity  of  a  glance ;  and  in  like  manner  the  soul 
goes  from  the  body  into  a  state  of  punishment  or 
happiness. 

Emperor.  How  is  the  depth  of  the  sea  a  stone's 
throw  ? 

Knight.  All  weight  descends ;  and  because  a 
stone  is  heavy  it  drops  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  at 
once.  Its  depth  is  therefore  a  stone's  throw. 

Emperor.  And  how  if  you  knew  the  number  of 
flaggons  of  fresh  water,  could  you  estimate  the 
number  of  salt  ?  This  seems  impossible. 

Knight.  Be  good  enough  to  try  it.     Begin  the 

reckoning  yourself. 

*         *         *         *         *         #.#         * 

The  emperor,  pleased  with  the  knight's  shrewd- 
ness, bids  him  '  Gro  in  peace.' — MS.  Copy  of  the 

GrEST.  EOM. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixxvii 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Bononius  was  emperor  of  Eome,  &c.  &c. 
This  is  the  same  story  as  the  LII  Tale  of  the 
original  Gresta,  Vol.  2.     Overpassed  by  Mr.  Douce. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Antonius  governed  the  city  of  Rome  with  great 
wisdom.  He  was  exceedingly  fond  of  the  game  of 
chess ;  and  observing,  on  one  occasion,  that  when 
the  men  were  replaced  in  the  bag  as  usual,  the  king 
was  confounded  with  the  inferior  pieces,  it  led  him 
to  reflections  upon  the  vanity  of  human  greatness. 
He  thereupon  determines  to  make  a  triple  division 
of  his  kingdom,  and  hasten  to  the  Holy  Land.  He 
did  so,  and  died  in  peace. 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  emperor  Averrhoes,  &c.  &c. 
This  is  the  story  of  the  knight  Placidus,  in  the 
XXX  Tale  of  the  original  Gesta,  with  some  varia- 
YOL.  i.  d 


Ixxviii  INTRODUCTION. 

tions.     Vol.  2.     This  also  Mr.  Douce  has  omitted 
to  observe. 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

The  following  tale,  together  with  Mr.  Douce's 
remarks,  I  extract,  verbatim,  from  the  second  vo- 
lume of  the  Illustrations  of  Shakspeare.  It  hap- 
pened in  Rome,  under  the  reign  of  one  PLEBENS, 
according  to  the  MS.  It  should  be  premised  that 
the  first  part  of  the  story  resembles  Tale  LXIX. 
Vol.1. 

"  A  law  was  made  at  Eome  that  the  sentinels  of 
the  city  should  each  night  examine  what  was  pass- 
ing in  all  the  houses,  so  that  no  private  murders 
should  be  committed,  nor  any  thing  done  whereby 
the  city  should  be  endangered.  It  happened  that 
an  old  knight  named  Josias  had  married  a  young 
and  beautiful  woman  who,  by  the  sweetness  of  her 
singing,  attracted  many  persons  to  his  house,  seve- 
ral of  whom  came  for  the  purpose  of  making  love 
to  her.  Among  these  were  three  young  men  who 
were  high  in  the  emperor's  favour.  They  respec- 
tively agreed  with  the  woman  for  a  private  assig- 
nation, for  which  she  was  to  receive  twenty  marks. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixxix 

She  discloses  the  matter  to  her  husband,  but  not 
choosing  to  give  up  the  money,  prevails  on  him  to 
consent  to  the  murder  of  the  gallants,  and  the  rob- 
bing of  their  persons.  This  is  accomplished,  and 
the  bodies  deposited  in  a  cellar.  The  woman, 
mindful  of  the  new  law  that  had  been  made,  sends 
for  one  of  the  sentinels,  who  was  her  brother,  pre- 
tends that  her  husband  had  killed  a  man  in  a  quar- 
rel, and  prevails  on  him,  for  a  reward,  to  dispose  of 
the  dead  body.  She  then  delivers  to  him  the  first 
of  the  young  men,  whom  he  puts  into  a  sack,  and 
throws  into  the  sea.  On  his  return  to  the  sister, 
she  pretends  to  go  into  the  cellar  to  draw  wine, 
and  cries  out  for  help.  When  the  sentinel  comes  to 
her,  she  tells  him  .that  the  dead  man  is  returned. 
At  this,  he  of  course  expresses  much  surprise,  but 
putting  the  second  body  into  his  sack,  ties  a  stone 
round  its  neck  and  plunges  it  into  the  sea.  Ee- 
turning  once  more,  the  woman,  with  additional  arts 
plays  the  same  part  again.  Again  he  is  deceived, 
and  taking  away  the  third  body,  carries  it  into  a 
forest,  makes  a  fire,  and  consumes  it.  During  this 
operation  he  has  occasion  to  retire,  and  in  the  mean 
time  a  knight  on  horseback,  who  was  going  to  a 
tournament,  passes  by,  and  alights  to  warm  himself 
d2 


1XXX  INTRODUCTION. 

at  the  fire.  On  the  other's  return,  the  knight  is 
mistaken  for  the  dead  man,  and  with  many  bitter 
words  thrown  into  the  fire,  horse  and  all l.  The 
sentinel  goes  back  to  his  sister,  and  receives  the 
stipulated  reward.  A  hue  and  cry  had  now  been 
made  after  the  young  men  who  were  missing.  The 
husband  and  wife  engage  in  a  quarrel,  and  the  mur- 
der is  of  course  discovered. 

"  This  story  has  been  immediately  taken  from 
The  seven  wise  Masters,  where  it  forms  the  example 
of  the  sixth  master.  The  ground-work  is,  no 
doubt,  oriental,  and  may  be  found,  perhaps,  in  its 
most  ancient/orm,  in  The  little  hunchbacked  taylor, 
of  The  Arabian  Nights.  It  was  imported  into  Eu- 
rope very  early,  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  lively 
and  entertaining  French  minstrels,  who  have  treated 
it  in  various  ways,  as  may  be  seen  in  Le  Grand, 
Fableaux  et  Contes,  torn,  iv.,  where  it  is  related  five 
times.  The  several  imitations  of  it  from  The  seven 
wise  masters,  may  be  found  in  all  the  editions  of 
Prince  Erastus,  an  Italian  modification  2  of  the  Wise 
masters.  It  forms  the  substance  of  a  well-con- 

1  Setting  aside  the  tragical  part  of  this  story,  it  would  be 
susceptible  of  much  comic  effect. 

2.  It  is  curious  that  the  difference  in  the  editions  of  the 
Wise  masters,  Mr.  Douce  calls  a  MODIFICATION  ;  but  the  same 
kind  of  thing  in  the  Gesta  is  a  distinct  work. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixxxi 

structed  and  entertaining  story  of  two  friars,  John 
and  Bichard,  who  are  said  to  hare  resided  at  Nor- 
wich, in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Fifth.  This  is  re- 
*ated  in  Heywood's  History  of  women,  under  the 
title  of  Thefaire  ladie  of  Norwich1,  and  hasjcrept 
into  Blomefield's  History  of  Norfolk  in  a  very  ex- 
traordinary manner,  unaccompanied  with  any  com- 
ment, but  with  the  addition  of  the  murderer's  name 
who  is  unaccountably  stated  to  be  Sir  Thomas  Er- 
pingham,  a  well  known  character2.  In  the  Bod- 
leian library  there  is  an  old  English  poem  entitled, 
A  merry  jest  of  Dane  Hew,  munck  of  Leicestre,  and 
how  he  was  foure  times  slain,  and  once  hanged. 
Printed  at  London,  by  J.  Aide,  in  4to.  without  date. 
This  is  probably  the  same  story,  which  has  certainly 
been  borrowed  from  one  of  those  related  by  the 
Norman  minstrels." 


1  P.  253,  folio  edit. 

2  *»  Vol.  iii.  p.  647.      Mr.  Gough  speaks  of  it  as  separately 
printed.  Brit.  Topogr.  ii.  27.     It  is  also  copied  in  Burton's 
Unparalleled  Varieties,  p.  159,  edit.  1699, 12mo.  and  The  Gen- 
tleman's Magazine.  Vol.  i.  p.  310.    It  has  twice  been  versified  ; 
1st  anonymously  under  the   title  of  A  hue  and  cry  after  the 
Priest,  or,  the  Convent,  a  Tale,  1749,  8vo. ;  and  2ndly  by  Mr. 
Jodrell,  under  that  of  The  Knight  and  the  Friars,  1785,  4to." 
DOUCE.     It  should  be  added,  that  it  has  been  a  third  time 
veisilied  by  Mr.  Colnian,  in  Broad  Grins,  &c. 

d3 


Ixxxii  INTRODUCTION. 


CHAP.  XXXII. 

For  this  chapter  I  am  also  indebted  to  the  Illus- 
trations, &c. 

"  Folliculus,  a  knight,  was  fond  of  hunting  and 
tournaments.  He  had  an  only  son,  for  whom  three 
nurses  were  provided..  Next  to  this  child  he  loved 
his  falcon  and  his  greyhound.  It  happened  one  day 
that  he  was  called  to  a  tournament,  whither  his  wife 
and  domestics  went  also,  leaving  the  child  in  the 
cradle,  the  greyhound  lying  by  him,  and  the  falcon 
on  his  perch.  A  serpent  that  inhabited  a  hole  near 
the  castle,  taking  advantage  of  the  profound  silence 
that  reigned,  crept  from  his  habitation  and  advanced 
towards  the  cradle  to  devour  the  child.  The  falcon, 
perceiving  the  danger,  fluttered  with  his  wings  till 
he  awoke  the  dog,  who  instantly  attacked  the  invader, 
and  after  a  fierce  conflict,  in  which  he  was  sorely 
wounded,  killed  him.  He  then  lay  down  on  the 
ground  to  lick  and  heal  his  wounds.  When  the 
nurses  returned  they  found  the  cradle  overturned, 
the  child  thrown  out,  and  the  ground  covered  with 
blood,  as  well  as  the  dog,  who,  they  immediately 
concluded,  had  killed  the  child.  Terrified  at  the 
idea  of  meeting  the  anger  of  the  parents,  they  deter- 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixxxiii 

mined  to  escape,  but  in  their  flight  fell  in  with  their 
mistress,  to  whom  they  were  compelled  to  relate  the 
supposed  murder  of  the  child  by  the  greyhound. 
The  knight  soon  arrived  to  hear  the  sad  story,  and, 
maddened  with  fury,  rushed  forward  to  the  spot. 
The  poor  wounded  and  faithful  animal  made  an  effort 
to  rise,  and  welcome  his  master  with  his  accustomed 
fondness  ;  but  the  enraged  knight  received  him  on 
the  point  of  his  sword,  and  he  fell  lifeless  to  the 
ground.  On  examination  of  the  cradle  the  infant 
was  found  alive  and  unhurt,  and  the  dead  serpent 
lying  by  him.  The  knight  now  perceived  what  had 
happened,  lamented  bitterly  over  his  faithful  dog, 
and  blamed  himself  for  having  depended  too  hastily 
on  the  words  of  his  wife.  Abandoning  the  profes- 
sion of  arms,  he  broke  his  lance  in  three  pieces,  and 
vowed  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land,  where  he  spent 
the  rest  of  his  days  in  peace. 

"  This  tale  is  likewise  borrowed  by  the  compiler 
of  the  Gesta,  from  the  Seven  Wise  Masters,  and  of 
oriental  construction.  It  is  originally  in  Pilpay's 
Fables,  being  that  of  The  Santon  and  the  broken 
Pitcher. 

"  There  is  a  very  extraordinary  tradition  in  North 
Wales,  of  an  incident  resembling  that  in  our  story 
having  happened  to  Prince  Llewellyn  about  the  year 


Ixxxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

1205.  He  is  said  to  have  erected  a  tomb  over  his 
faithful  dog,  still  known  in  Carnarvonshire  by  the 
name  of  Gelbart's  Grave1.  This  tradition  is  the  sub- 
ject of  an  elegant  ballad  by  the  honourable  Mr. 
Spencer,  privately  printed,  in  a  single  sheet,  under 
the  title  of  Beth  Gelert,  or  the  Grave  of  the  Grey- 
hound. At  Abergavenny  Priory  Church  there  is  said 
to  be  the  figure  of  an  armed  knight  with  a  dog  at 
his  feet ;  and  with  this  person,  whoever  he  was,  the 
story  of  Gelhart  has  also  been  connected.  But  the 
dog,  as  well  as  other  animals,  is  frequently  found  at 
the  feet  of  figures  on  old  monuments.  On  the  whole, 
the  subject  appears  not  undeserving  of  the  conside- 
ration of  Welsh  Antiquaries.  It  would  be  proper 
however,  on  any  such  occasion,  to  bear  in  mind  the 
numerous  applications  of  circumstances  altogether 
fabulous  to  real  persons  ;  one  example  of  which  has 
occurred  in  the  story  from  the  Gesta  that  immedi- 
ately precedes  the  present. 

It  may  be  thought  worth  adding,  that  Yirgil's 
original  Gnat  resembled  in  its  outline,  as  given  by 
Donatus,  the  story  in  the  Gesta.  A  shepherd  there 
falls  asleep  in  a  marshy  spot  of  ground ;  a  serpent 


1  "  Jones's  Reliquesofthe  WelshBards.  p.  75,  where  there  is  an 
old  Welch  song,  or  Englyn  on  the  subject." — DOUCE. 


INTRODUCTION.  1XXXV 

approaches,  and  is  about  to  kill  him.  At  this  mo- 
ment a  gnat  settles  on  the  shepherd's  face,  stings, 
and  awakens  him.  He  instinctively  applies  his  hand 
to  the  wounded  part,  and  crushes  the  gnat.  He 
soon  perceives  that  he  had  destroyed  his  benefactor, 
and,  as  the  only  recompence  in  his  power,  erects  a 
tomb  to  his  memory." 

CHAP.  XLVI. 

"  Some  time  ago  in  Home  there  dwelt  a  noble  em- 
peror, of  great  livelihood,  named  Alexander,  which 
above  all  vertues  loved  the  vertue  of  bounty ;  where- 
fore he  ordained  a  law  for  great  charity,  that  no  man 
under  pain  of  death  should  turn  a  plaice  in  his  dish 
at  his  meat,  but  only  eat  the  whiteside,  and  not  the 
black  ;  and  if  any  man  would  attempt  to  do  the  con- 
trary, he  should  suffer  death  without  any  pardon  : 
but  yet  ere  he  dyed,  he  should  ask  three  petitions 
of  the  emperor  what  him  list  (except  his  life)  which 
should  be  granted  to  him. 

"  It  befel  after,  upon  a  day,  that  there  became  an 
earl  and  his  son,  of  a  strange  country,  to  speak  with 
the  emperor  ;  and  when  the  earl  was  set  at  meat,  he 
was  served  with  a  plaice,  and  he  which  was  an  hun- 
gry and  had  an  appetite  to  his  meat,  after  he  had 
d  5 


Ixxxvi  INTRODUCTION. 

eaten  the  white  side,  he  turned  the  black  side,  and 
began  to  eat  thereof:  wherefore,  straightway  he  was 
accused  to  the  emperor,  because  he  had  offended 
against  the  law.  Then  said  the  emperor,  Let  him 
dye  according  to  the  law  without  any  delay. 

"  "When  the  earl's  son  heard  that  his  father  should 
die,  immediately  he  fell  down  on  both  his  knees  be- 
fore the  emperor,  and  said,  O  my  reverend  lord,  I 
most  humbly  intreat  you,  that  I  may  dye  for  my 
father.  Then  said  the  emperor,  It  pleaseth  me  well 
so  that  one  dye  for  the  offence.  Then  said  the  earl's 
son,  Sith  it  is  so  that  I  must  dye,  I  ask  the  benefit  of 
the  law,  that  is,  that  I  may  have  three  petitions 
granted  ere  I  dye.  The  emperor  answered  and 
said,  Ask  what  thou  wilt,  there  shall  no  man  say  thee 
nay. 

"  Then  said  this  young  knight,  My  lord,  you  have 
but  one  daughter,  the  which  I  desire  of  your  high- 
ness *  *  *.  The  emperor  granted  for  fulfilling 
of  the  laws,  though  it  were  against  his  will  *  *  *. 

"  The  second  petition  is  this,  I  ask  all  thy  trea- 
sure ;  and  immediately  the  emperor  granted,  because 
he  would  not  be  called  a  breaker  of  the  law.  And 
when  the  earl's  son  had  received  the  emperor's  trea- 
sure, he  imparted  it  both  to  poor  and  to  rich,  by 
means  whereof  he  obtained  their  good  wills. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixxxvii 

"  My  third  petition  is  this,  I  ask,  my  lord,  that  all 
their  eyes  may  be  put  out  incontinent  that  saw  my 
father  eat  the  black  side  of  the  plaice.  And  they 
that  saw  him  turn  the  plaice,  bethought  them,  and 
said  within  themselves :  If  we  acknowledge  that  we 
saw  him  do  this  trespass,  then  shall  our  eyes  be  put 
out :  and  therefore  it  is  better  that  we  hold  us  still ; 
And  so  there  was  none  found  that  would  accuse  him. 

"  When  the  Earl's  son  heard  this,  he  said  to  the 
emperor,  My  lord  (quoth  he)  ye  see  there  is  no  man 
accuseth  my  father,  therefore  give  me  rightful  judg- 
ment. Then  said  the  emperor,  Forasmuch  as  no 
man  will  acknowledge  that  they  saw  him  turn  the 
plaice,  therefore  I  will  not  that  thy  father  shall  die. 
So  thus  the  son  saved  his  father's  life,  and  after  the 
decease  of  the  emperor  married  his  daughter." 

CHAP.  XLVIL 

This  Chapter,  but  with  less  incident,  is  the  twenty- 
fifth  history  of  the  old  English  translation,  which  to- 
lerably well  exemplifies  the  usual  arbitrary  method 
of  departing  from  the  original  text.  As  there  is  little 
interest  in  the  story,  I  pass  it. 


d  6 


Ixxxviii  INTRODUCTION. 


CHAP.  XLVIIL 

"  Selestinus  reigned,  a  wise  emperor,  in  Eome, 

and  he  had  a  fair  daughter." 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

[It  is  needless  to  transcribe  this  tale  (which  is  the 
origin  of  the  bond  story  in  Shakspeare's  "  Merchant 
of  Venice,")  because  it  is  to  be  found  prefixed  to  all 
the  editions  of  the  drama  itself,  from  the  Pecorone 
of  Ser  G-iovanni  Eiorentino,  an  Italian  Novelist,  who 
wrote  in  1378.  It  occurs  also  in  an  old  English 
MS.  preserved  in  the  Harl.  Collection,  No.  7333, 
evidently  translated  from  the  Gesta  Romanorum, 
[TEMP.  HEN.  VI.]  which  Mr.  Douce  has  given  in 
the  1st  volume  of  his  very  entertaining  "  Illustra- 
tions of  Shakspeare,"  p.  281.  But  as  the  Tale  of  the 
Three  Caskets  has  not  been  made  so  public,  I  insert 
it  in  this  place,  although  it  forms  the  XCIX  Chapter 
of  the  MS.  Gesta.  See  also  Note  16.  Vol.  2.] 

"  Some  time  dwelt  in  Borne  a  mighty  emperor, 
named  Anselm,  who. had  married  the  king's  daugh- 
ter of  Jerusalem,  a  fair  lady,  and  gracious  in  the 
sight  of  every  man,  but  she  was  long  time  with  the 
emperor  ere  she  bare  him  any  child ;  wherefore  the 
nobles  of  the  empire  were  very  sorrowful,  because 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixxxix 

their  lord  had  no  heir  of  his  own  body  begotten  : 
till  at  last  it  befell,  that  this  Anselm  walked  after 
supper,  in  an  evening,  into  his  garden,  and  bethought 
himself  that  he  had  no  heir,  and  how  the  king  of 
Ampluy  warred  on  him  continually,  for  so  much  as 
he  had  no  son  to  make  defence  in  his  absence ; 
therefore  he  was  sorrowful,  and  went  to  his  cham- 
ber and  slept.  Then  he  thought  he  saw  a  vision  in 
his  sleep,  that  the  morning  was  more  clear  than  it 
was  wont  to  be,  and  that  the  moon  was  much  paler 
on  the  one  side  than  on  the  other.  And  after  he 
saw  a  bird  of  two  colours,  and  by  that  bird  stood 
two  beasts,  which  fed  that  little  bird  with  their  heat. 
And  after  that  came  more  beasts,  and  bowing  their 
breasts  toward  the  bird,  went  their  way :  then  came 
there  divers  birds  that  sung  sweetly  and  pleasantly, 
with  that  the  emperor  awaked. 

"  In  the  morning  early  this  Anselm  remembred 
his  vision,  and  wondred  much  what  it  might  signifie  ; 
wherefore  he  called  to  him  his  philosophers,  and  all 
the  states  of  the  empire,  and  told  them  his  dream  ; 
charging  them  to  tell  him  the  signification  thereof 
on  pain  of  death,  and  if  they  told  him  the  true  inter- 
pretation thereof,  he  promised  them  good  reward. 
Then  said  they,  Dear  lord,  tell  us  your  dream,  and 
we  shall  declare  to  you  what  it  betokens.  Then  the 


XC  INTRODUCTION. 

emperor  told  them  from  the  beginning  to  the  ending, 
as  is  aforesaid.  When  the  philosophers  heard  this, 
with  glad  chear  they  answered  and  said,  Sir,  the  vi- 
sion that  you  saw  betokeneth  good,  for  the  empire 
shall  be  clearer  than  it  is. 

"  The  moon  that  is  more  pale  on  the  one  side  than 
on  the  other,  betokeneth  the  empress,  that  hath  lost 
part  of  her  colour,  through  the  conception  of  a  son 
that  she  hath  conceived.  The  littlejbird  betokeneth 
the  son  that  she  shall  bear.  The  two  beasts  that  fed 
this  bird,  betokeneth  the  wise  and  rich  men  of  the 
empire  which  shall  obey  the  son.  These  other  beasts 
that  bowed  their  breasts  to  the  bird,  betoken  many 
other  nations  that  shall  do  him  homage.  The  bird 
that  sang  so  sweetly  to  this  little  bird,  betokeneth 
the  Romans,  who  shall  rejoyce  and  sing  because  of 
his  birth.  This  is  the  very  interpretation  of  your 
dream. 

"  When  the  emperor  heard  this,  he  was  right  joy- 
ful. Soon  after  that,  the  empress  travailed  in  chil  d- 
birth,  and  was  delivered  of  a  fair  son,  at  whose  birth 
there  was  great  and  wonderful  joy  made. 

"  When  the  king  of  Ampluy  heard  this,  he  thought 
in  himself  thus :  Lo,  I  have  warred  against  the  em- 
peror all  the  days  of  my  life,  and  now  he  hath  a  son, 
who  when  he  cometh  to  full  age,  will  revenge  the 


INTRODUCTION.  XC1 

wrong  I  have  done  against  his  father,  therefore  it  is 
better  that  I  send  to  the  emperor,  and  beseech  him 
of  truce  and  peace,  that  the  son  may  have  nothing 
against  me,  when  be  cometh  to  manhood:  when  he 
had  thus  said  to  himself,  he  wrote  to  the  emperor, 
beseeching  him  to  have  peace.  When  the  emperor 
saw  that  the  king  of  Ampluy  wrote  to  him  more  for 
fear  than  for  love,  he  wrote  again  to  him,  that  if  he 
would  find  good  and  sufficient  sureties  to  keep  the 
peace,  and  bind  himself  all  the  days  of  his  life  to  do 
him  service  and  homage,  he  would  receive  him  to 
peace. 

"  When  the  king  had  read  the  tenor  of  the  empe- 
ror's letter,  he  call'd  his  council,  praying  them  to 
give  him  counsel  how  he  best  might  do,  as  touching 
this  matter.  Then  said  they,  It  is  good  that  ye  obey 
the  emperor's  will  and  commandment  in  all  things. 
For  first,  in  that  he  desired  of  you  surety  for  the 
peace ;  to  this  we  answer  thus,  Te  have  but  one 
daughter,  and  the  emperor  one  son,  wherefore  let  a 
marriage  be  made  between  them,  and  that  may  be  a 
perpetual  covenant  of  peace.  Also  he  asketh  ho- 
mage and  tribute,  which  it  is  good  to  fulfil.  Then 
the  king  sent  his  messengers  to  the  emperor,  saying, 
that  he  would  fulfil  his  desire  in  all  things,  if  it  might 
please  his  highness,  that  his  son  and  the  king's 
6 


XC11  INTRODUCTION. 

daughter  might  be  married  together.  All  this  well 
pleased  the  emperor,  yet  he  sent  again,  saying,  If 
his  daughter  were  a  clean  virgin  from  her  birth 
unto  that  day,  he  would  consent  to  that  marriage. 
Then  was  the  king  right  glad,  for  his  daughter  was 
a  clean  virgin. 

"Therefore,  when  the  letters  of  covenant  and 
compact  were  sealed,  the  king  furnished  a  fair  ship, 
wherein  he  might  send  his  daughter,  with  many  no- 
ble knights,  ladies,  and  great  riches,  unto  the  empe- 
ror, for  to  have  his  son  in  marriage. 

"  And  when  they  were  sailing  in  the  sea,  towards 
Home,  a  storm  arose  so  extreamly  and  so  horribly 
that  the  ship  brake  against  a  rock,  and  they  were  all 
drowned  save  only  the  young  lady,  which  fixed  her 
hope  and  heart  so  greatly  on  God,  that  she  was 
saved,  and  about  three  of  the  clock  the  tempest 
ceased,  and  the  lady  drove  forth  over  the  waves  in 
that  broken  ship  which  was  cast  up  again  :  But  a 
huge  whale  followed  after,  ready  to  devour  both  the 
ship  and  her.  Wherefore  this  young  lady,  when 
night  came,  smote  fire  with  a  stone  wherewith  the 
ship  was  greatly  lightened,  and  then  the  whale  durst 
not  adventure  toward  the  ship  for  fear  of  that  light. 
At  the  cock  crowing,  this  young  lady  was  so  weary 
of  the  great  tempest  and  trouble  of  sea,  that  she 


INTRODUCTION.  XC111 

slept,  and  within  a  little  while  after  the  fire  ceased, 
and  the  whale  came  and  devoured  the  virgin.  And 
when  she  awaked  and  found  herself  swallowed  up  in 
the  whale's  belly,  she  smote  fire,  and  with  a  knife 
wounded  the  whale  in  many  places,  and  when  the 
whale  felt  himself  wounded,  according  to  his  nature 
he  began  to  swim  to  land. 

"  There  was  dwelling  at  that  time  in  a  country 
near  by,  a  noble  earl  named  Pirris,  who  for  his  re- 
creation walking  on  the  sea  shore,  saw  the  whale 
coming  towards  the  land,  wherefore  he  turned  home 
again,  and  gathered  a  great  many  of  men  and  wo- 
men, and  came  thither  again,  and  fought  with  the 
whale,  and  wounded  him  very  sore,  and  as  they 
smote,  the  maiden  that  was  in  his  belly  cryed  with  an 
high  voice,  and  said,  0  gentle  friends,  have  mercy 
and  compassion  on  me,  for  I  am  a  king's  daughter, 
and  a  true  virgin  from  the  hour  of  my  birth  unto  this 
day.  When  the  earl  heard  this,  he  wondered  greatly, 
and  opened  the  side  of  the  whale,  and  found  the 
young  lady  and  took  her  out :  and  when  she  was 
thus  delivered,  she  told  him  forthwith  whose  daugh- 
ter she  was,  and  how  she  had  lost  all  her  goods  in 
the  sea,  and  how  she  should  have  been  married  unto 
the  emperor's  son.  And  when  the  earl  heard  this, 


XC1V  INTRODUCTION. 

lie  was  very  glad,  and  comforted  her  the  more,  and 
kept  her  with  him  till  she  was  well  refreshed.  And 
in  the  mean  time  he  sent  messengers  to  the  em- 
peror, letting  him  to  know  how  the  king's  daughter 
was  saved. 

"  Then  was  the  emperor  right  glad  of  her  safety, 
and  coming,  had  great  compassion  on  her,  say- 
ing, Ah  good  maiden,  for  the  love  of  my  son  thou 
hast  suffered  much  woe :  nevertheless,  if  thou  be 
worthy  to  be  his  wife,  soon  shall  I  prove.  And 
when  he  had  thus  said,  he  caused  three  vessels  to  be 
brought  forth  :  the  first  was  made  of  pure  gold,  well 
beset  with  precious  stones  without,  and  within  full 
of  dead  men's  bones,  and  thereupon  was  engraven 
this  posie :  WHOSO  CHTJSETH  ME,  SHALL  FIND  THAT 
HE  DESEBVETH.  The  second  vessel  was  made  of  fine 
silver,  filled  with  earth  and  worms,  the  superscription 
was  thus,  WHOSO  CHUSETH  ME,  SHALL  FIND  THAT  HIS 
NATUBE  DESIBETH.  The  third  vessel  was  made  of 
lead,  full  within  of  precious  stones,  and  thereupon 
was  insculpt  this  posie,  WHOSO  CHUSETH  ME,  SHALL 

FIND  THAT  GrOD  HATH  DISPOSED  FOB  HIM.  These  three 

vessels  the  emperor  shewed  the  maiden,  and  said  : 
Lo,  here  daughter,  these  be  rich  vessels, if  thou  chuse 
one  of  these,  wherein  is  profit  to  thee  and  to  others, 


INTRODUCTION.  XCV 

then  shalt  thou  have  my  son.  And  if  thou  chuse 
that  wherein  is  no  profit  to  thee,  nor  to  any  other, 
soothly  thou  shalt  not  marry  him. 

"  When  the  maiden  heard  this,  she  lift  up  her 
hands  to  God,  and  said,  Thou  Lord,  that  knowest  all 
things,  grant  me  grace  this  hour  so  to  chuse,  that  I 
may  receive  the  emperor's  son.  And  with  that  she 
beheld  the  first  vessel  of  gold,  which  was  engraven 
royally,  and  read  the  superscription :  Whoso  chuseth 
me,  shall  find  that  he  deserveth  ;  saying  thus, 
Though  this  vessel  be  full  precious,  and  made  of 
pure  gold,  nevertheless  I  know  not  what  is  within, 
therefore,  my  dear  lord,  this  vessel  will  I  not  chuse. 

"  And  then  she  beheld  the  second  vessel,  that  was 
of  pure  silver,  and  read  the  superscription,  Whoso 
chuseth  me,  shall  find  that  his  nature  desireth  : 
Thinking  thus  within  herself,  if  I  chuse  this  vessel, 
what  is  within  I  know  not,  but  well  I  know,  there 
shall  I  find  that  nature  desireth,  and  my  nature  de- 
sireth the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  therefore  this  vessel 
will  I  not  chuse. 

"  "When  she  had  seen  these  two  vessels,  and  had 
given  an  answer  as  touching  them,  she  beheld  the 
third  vessel  of  lead,  and  read  the  superscription, 
Whoso  chuseth  me,  shall  find  that  God  hath  disposed  : 
Thinking  within  herself,  this  vessel  is  not  very  rich, 


XCV1  INTRODUCTION. 

nor  outwardly  precious,  yet  the  superscription  saith, 
Whoso  chuseth  me,  shall  find  that  God  hath  disposed  : 
and  without  doubt  God  never  disposeth  any  harm, 
therefore,  by  the  leave  of  God,  this  vessel  will  I 
chuse. 

"  When  the  emperor  heard  this,  he  said,  O  fair 
maiden,  open  thy  vessel,  for  it  is  full  of  precious 
stones,  and  see  if  thou  hast  well  chosen  or  no.  And 
when  this  young  lady  had  opened  it,  she  found  it  full 
of  fine  gold  and  precious  stones,  as  the  emperor  had 
told  her  before.  Then  said  the  emperor,  daughter, 
because  thou  hast  well  chosen,  thou  shalt  marry  my 
son.  And  then  he  appointed  the  wedding  day  ;  and 
they  were  married  with  great  solemnity,  and  with 
much  honour  continued  to  their  lives  end." 


CHAP.  XLIX. 

This  story  is  wholly  in  the  original  Gesta;  Tale  L. 
Vol.  1.  Not  observed  by  Mr.  Douce. 

CHAP.  L. 

This  apologue  is  also  in  the  original  Gesta,  with 
slight  variatioQs.  See  Tale  XLV.  Yol  1.  It  is 
noticed  in  the  Illustrations,  &c. 


INTRODUCTION.  XCV11 


CHAP.  LI. 

Is  also  in  the  original  Gesta;  Tale  LXIV.  Vol.  1. 
Not  observed  by  Mr.  Douce. 

CHAP.  LIV. 

In  the  original  Gesta ;  Tale  XL.  Vol.  2.  p.  148. 
Noticed  in  the  Illustrations. 

CHAP.  LVI. 

In  the  original  G-esta ;  Tale  XX.  Vol.  1.  Over- 
looked by  Mr.  Douce. 

CHAP.  LXII. 

This  story,  though  not  exactly  the  same,  resem- 
bles Tale  I.  Vol.  1.  Tale  XXVII.  and  part  of 
Tale  LV.  Ibid.  But  it  is  really  the  LXYI.  Tale  of 
Yol.  1.  Not  noticed  by  Mr.  Douce. 

CHAR  LXVIII. 

This  is  the  "  Twenty-third  History  "of  the  English 
Translation  •  but  being  of  little  interest,  I  omit  it. 


XCV111  INTRODUCTION. 


CHAP.  LXX. 

Is  the  story  of  Guido,  (and  of  Sir  Guy,  Ellis's 
Specimens,  &c.)  Tale  XCL  YoL  2.  Not  observed 
by  Mr.  Douce. 

CHAP.  LXXIL 

Forms  the  latter  part  of  Tale  XXI.  Vol.  2.  Not 
observed  by  Mr.  Douce. 

CHAP.  LXXVII. 

Is  the  Twenty-eighth  History  of  the  English 
Translation,  but  not  worth  transcribing.  The  latter 
part  of  this  story  is  the  same  with  Tale  II.  and 
the  last  Tale  of  Vol.  2.  Mr.  Douce  notices  the 
latter,  but  it  is  not  so  similar  by  any  means  as  the 
former. 

CHAPTER  LXXVIII. 

"  A  law  was  made  at  Eome,  that  no  man  should 
marry  for  beauty,  but  for  riches  only ;  and  that  no 
woman  should  be  united  to  a  poor  man,  unless  he 
should  by  some  means  acquire  wealth  equal  to  her 
own.  A  certain  poor  knight  solicited  the  hand  of  a 


INTRODUCTION.  XC1X 

rich  lady,  but  she  reminded  him  of  the  law,  and  de- 
sired him  to  use  the  best  means  of  complying  with 
it,  in  order  to  effect  their  union.  He  departed  in 
great  sorrow,  and  after  much  enquiry,  was  informed 
of  a  rich  duke,  who  had  been  blind  from  the  day  of 
his  birth.  Him  he  resolved  to  murder,  and  obtain 
his  wealth ;  but  found  that  he  was  protected  in  the 
day-time  by  several  armed  domestics,  and  at  night 
by  the  vigilance  of  a  faithful  dog.  He  contrived, 
however,  to  kill  the  dog  with  an  arrow,  and  imme- 
diately afterwards  the  master,  with  whose  money, 
he  returned  to  the  lady.  He  informed  her  that  he 
had  accomplished  his  purpose ;  and  being  interro- 
gated how  this  had  been  done  in  so  short  a  space  of 
time,  he  related  all  that  had  happened.  The  lady 
desired,  before  the  marriage  should  take  place,  that 
he  would  go  to  the  spot  where  the  duke  was  buried, 
lay  himself  on  his  tomb,  listen  to  what  he  might 
hear,  and  then  report  it  to  her.  The  knight 
armed  himself,  and  went  accordingly.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  the  night  he  heard  a  voice  saying,  *  0  duke, 
that  liest  here,  what  askest  thou  that  I  can  do  for 
thee  ?'  The  answer  was,  '  O  Jesus,  thou  upright 
judge,  all  that  I  require  is  vengeance  for  my  blood 
unjustly  spilt.'  The  voice  rejoined,  '  Thirty  years 
from  this  time  thy  wish  shall  be  fulfilled.'  The 


C  INTRODUCTION. 

knight,  extremely  terrified,  returned  with  the  news  to 
the  lady.  She  reflected  that  thirty  years  were  a  long 
period,  and  resolved  on  the  marriage.  During  the 
whole  of  the  above  time  the  parties  remained  in 
perfect  happiness. 

"  When  the  thirty  years  were  nearly  elapsed,  the 
knight  built  a  strong  castle,  and  over  one  of  the 
gates,  in  a  conspicuous  place,  caused  the  following 
verses  to  be  written : 

*  In  my  distress,  religious  aid  I  sought : 
But  my  distress  relieved,  I  held  it  nought.  * 
The  wolf  was  sick,  a  lamb  he  seemed  to  be ; 
But  health  restored,  a  wolf  again  we  see.' 

Interrogated  as  to  the  meaning  of  these  enigma- 
tical lines,  the  knight  at  once  explained  them,  by 
relating  his  own  story,  and  added,  that  in  eight  days 
time  the  thirty  years  would  expire.  He  invited  all 
his  friends  to  a  feast  at  that  period,  and  when  the 
day  was  arrived,  the  guests  placed  at  table,  and  the 
minstrels  attuning  their  instruments  of  music,  a 
beautiful  bird  flew  in  at  the  window,  and  began  to 
sing  with  uncommon  sweetness.  The  knight  lis- 
tened attentively,  and  said,  '  I  fear  this  bird  prog- 
nosticates misfortune.'  He  then  took  his  bow,  and 
2 


INTRODUCTION.  Cl 

shot  an  arrow  into  it,  in  presence  of  all  the  com- 
pany. Instantly  the  castle  divided  into  two 
parts,  and,  with  the  knight,  his  wife,  and  all  who 
were  in  it,  was  precipitated  to  the  lowest  depth  of 
the  infernal  regions.  The  story  adds,  that  on  the 
spot  where  the  castle  stood,  there  is  now  a  spacious 
lake,  on  which  no  substance  whatever  floats,  but  is 
immediately  plunged  to  the  botton1." 

CHAPTER  LXXIX. 

"  The  dog  and  the  lamp,  in  this  story,  are  intro- 
duced in  chap.  i.  of  the  other  Gesta,  but  the  tales 
have  nothing  else  in  common  2." — DOTTCE.  But  the 
pure  virgin  is  in  Tale  XXXY.  Vol.  II.,  and  the 
thorn  extracted  from  the  lion's  foot,  in  Tale  XXIV. 
Vol.  II.  The  protection  afforded  by  the  animal 
resembles  that  in  Tale  XXIX.  Vol.  II.— The  youth's 
subterranean  residence  seems  copied  from  the  story 
of  the  third  calendar  in  the  Arabian  Nights. 

1  From  Douce's  Abridgement  of  the  Gesta  Romanorum. 

2  The  dog  is  again  introduced  in  Tale  XVII.  Vol.  I. 


VOL.   I. 


Cll  INTRODUCTION. 


CHAPTER  LXXX. 

"  The  substance  of  this  story,"  says  Mr.  Douce, 
"  is  incorporated  with  the  old  ballad  of  '  A  warn- 
ing Piece  to  England,  or  the  Fall  of  Queen  Elea- 
nor.' "—Coll  of  old  Ballads,  Vol.  I.  No.  xiii. 

CHAPTER  LXXXIL 

"  There  dwelt  some  time  in  Rome  a  mighty  em- 
peror and  a  merciful,  named  Menelay,  who  or- 
dained such  a  law,  that  what  innocent  person  was 
taken  and  put  in  prison,  if  he  might  escape  and 
come  to  the  emperor's  palace,  he  should  be  there 
safe  from  all.  manner  of  accusations  against  him  in 
his  life  time.  It  was  not  long  after,  but  it  befel,  that 
a  knight  was  accused,  wherefore  he  was  taken  and 
put  in  a  strong  and  dark  prison,  where  he  lay  a  long 
time,  and  had  no  light  but  a  little  window,  where- 
at scant  light  shone  in,  that  lighted  him  to  eat  such 
simple  meat  as  the  keeper  brought  him :  wherefore 
he  mourned  greatly,  and  made  sorrow  that  he  was 
thus  fast  shut  up  from  the  sight  of  men.  Never- 
theless, when  the  keeper  was  gone,  there  came  daily 
a  nightingale  in  at  the  window,  and  sung  full 


INTRODUCTION.  Clll 

sweetly,  by  whose  song  this  woful  knight  was  often- 
times fed  with  joy,  and  when  the  bird  left  off  sing" 
ing,  then  would  she  flye  into  the  knight's  bosome, 
and  there  this  knight  fed  her  many  a  day,  of  the 
victual  that  G-od  sent  him.  It  befel  after  upon  a 
day,  that  the  knight  was  greatly  desolate  of  com- 
fort. Nevertheless,  the  bird  that  sate  in  his  bosome 
fed  upon  kernels  of  nuts,  and  thus  he  said  to  the 
bird,  sweet  bird,  I  have  sustained  thee  many  a  day, 
what  wilt  thou  give  me  now  in  my  desolation  to 
comfort  me?  Eemember  thy  self  well,  how  that 
thou  art  the  creature  of  God,  and  so  am  I  also,  and 
therefore  help  me  now  in  this  my  great  need. 

"  When  the  bird  heard  this,  she  flew  forth  from 
his  bosome,  and  tarried  from  him  three  days,  but  the 
third  day  she  came  again,  and  brought  in  her  mouth 
a  precious  stone,  and  laid  it  in  the  knight's  bosom. 
And  when  she  had  so  done,  she  took  her  flight  and 
flew  from  him  again.  The  knight  marvelled  at  the 
stone,  and  at  the  bird,  and  forthwith  he  took  the 
stone  in  his  hand,  and  touched  his  gives  and  fet- 
ters therewith,  and  presently  they  fell  off.  And 
then  he  arose  and  touched  the  doors  of  the  prison 
and  they  opened,  and  he  escaped,  and  ran  fast  to 
the  emperor's  palace.  When  the  keeper  of  the  pri- 
son perceived  this,  he  blew  his  horn  thrice,  anl 
e  2 


CIV  INTRODUCTION. 

raised  up  all  the  folk  of  the  city,  and  led  them  forth, 
crying  with  an  high  voice,  lo,  the  thief  is  gone, 
follow  we  him  all.  And  with  that  he  ran  before  all 
his  fellows  towards  the  knight.  And  when  he  came 
nigh  him,  the  knight  bent  his  bow,  and  shot  an  ar- 
row, wherewith  he  smote  the  keeper  in  the  lungs, 
and  slew  him,  and  then  ran  to  the  palace,  where  he 
found  succour  against  the  law." 

CHAPTER  XCIV. 

The  same  as  Tale  L.  Yol.  II.  and  Tale  LXII. 
Vol.  II.  Not  observed  by  Mr.  Douce. 

CHAPTER  XCVIII. 

"  In  Rome  some  time  dwelt  a  mighty  emperor, 
named  Martin,  which  for  entire  affection  kept  with 
him  his  brother's  son,  whom  men  called  Eulgen- 
tius.  With  this  Martin  dwelt  also  a  knight  that 
was  steward  of  the  empire,  and  unkle  unto  the 
emperor,  which  envied  this  Eulgentius,  studying 
day  and  night  how  he  might  bring  the  emperor  and 
this  youth  at  debate.  Wherefore  the  steward  on  a 
day  went  to  the  emperor,  and  said,  My  lord,  quoth 


INTRODUCTION.  CV 

he,  I  that  am  your  true  servant,  am  bound  in  duty 
to  warn  your  highness,  if  I  hear  any  thing  that 
toucheth  your  honour,  wherefore  I  have  such  things 
that  I  must  needs  utter  it  in  secret  to  your  majesty 
between  us  two.  Then  said  the  emperor,  good 
friend,  say  on  what  thee  list. 

"  My  most  dear  lord,  (quoth  the  steward)  Ful- 
gentius  your  cousin  and  your  nigh  kinsman,  hath  de- 
famed you  wonderfully  and  shamefully  throughout 
all  your  whole  empire,  saying  that  your  breath 
stinketh,  and  that  it  is  death  to  him  to  serve  your 
cup.  Then  the  emperor  was  grievously  displeased, 
and  almost  beside  himself  for  anger,  and  said  unto 
him  thus :  I  pray  thee  good  friend  tell  me  the  very 
truth,  if  that  my  breath  stinketh  as  he  saith.  My 
lord  (quoth  the  steward)  ye  may  believe  me,  I 
never  perceived  a  sweeter  breath  in  my  days  than 
yours  is.  Then  said  the  emperor,  I  pray  thee  good 
friend,  tell  me  how  I  may  bring  this  thing  to  good 
proof. 

"  The  steward  answered  and  said :  My  Lord 
(quoth  he)  ye  shall  right  well  understand  the  truth ; 
for  to-morrow  next  when  he  serveth  you  of  your 
cup,  ye  shall  see  that  he  will  turn  away  his  face  from 
you,  because  of  your  breath,  and  this  is  the  most 


e3 


CV1  INTRODUCTION. 

certain  proof  that  may  be  had  of  this  thing.  Verily 
quoth  the  emperor,  a  truer  proof  cannot  be  had  of 
this  thing.  Therefore  anon  when  the  steward  heard 
this,  he  went  straight  to  Fulgentius,  and  took  him 
aside,  saying  thus.  Dear  friend,  thou  art  near 
kinsman  and  also  nephew  unto  my  lord  the  empe- 
ror, therefore  if  thou  wilt  be  thankful  unto  me,  I 
will  tell  thee  of  a  fault  whereof  my  lord  the  emperor 
complaineth  oft,  and  thinks  to  put  thee  from  him 
(except  it  be  the  sooner  amended)  and  that  will  be 
a  great  reproof  to  thee.  Then  said  this  Fulgentius. 
Ah  good  Sir,  for  his  love  that  died  upon  the  cross, 
tell  me  why  my  lord  is  so  sore  moved  with  me,  for 
I  am  ready  to  amend  my  fault  in  all  that  I  can  or 
may,  and  for  to  be  ruled  by  your  discreet  counsel. 
"  Thy  breath  (quoth  the  steward)  stinketh  so  sore, 
that  his  drink  doth  him  no  good,  so  grievous  unto 
him  is  the  stinking  breath  of  thy  mouth.  Then  said 
Fulgentius  unto  the  steward  ?  Truly,  that  perceived 
I  never  till  now ;  but  what  think  ye  of  my  breath,  I 
pray  you  tell  me  the  very  truth  ?  Truly  (quoth  the 
steward)  it  stinketh  greatly  and  foul.  And  this 
Fulgentius  believed  all  that  he  had  said,  and  was 
right  sorrowful  in  his  mind,  and  prayed  the  steward 
of  his  counsel  and  help  in  this  woeful  case.  Then  said 


INTRODUCTION.  CV11 

the  steward  unto  him,  if  that  thou  wilt  do  my  coun- 
sel, I  shall  bring  this  matter  to  a  good  conclusion, 
wherefore  do  as  I  shall  tell  thee. 

"  I  counsel  thee  for  the  best,  and  also  warn  thee, 
that  when  thou  servest  my  lord  the  emperor  of  his 
cup,  that  thou  turn  thy  face  away  from  him,  so  that 
he  may  not  smell  thy  stinking  breath,  until  the  time 
that  thou  hast  provided  thee  of  some  remedy  there- 
fore. 

"Then  was  Fulgentius  right  glad,  and  sware  to 
him  that  he  would  do  by  his  counsel. 

"  Not  long  after  it  befell  that  this  young  man  Ful- 
gentius  served  his  lord  as  he  was  wont  to  do,  and 
therewith  suddenly  he  turned  his  face  from  the  lord 
the  emperor,  as  the  steward  had  taught  him. 

"  And  when  the  emperor  perceived  the  avoiding  of 
his  head,  he  smote  this  young  Fulgentius  on  the  breast 
with  his  foot,  and  said  to  him  thus  :  O  thou  lewd 
varlet ;  now  I  see  well  it  is  true  that  I  have  heard  of 
thee,  and  therefore  go  thou  anon  out  of  my  sight, 
that  I  may  see  thee  no  more  in  this  place.  And  with 
that  this  young  Pulgentius  wept  full  sore,  and  avoided 
the  place,  and  went  out  of  his  sight. 

"And  when  this  was  done,  the  emperor  called  unto 
him  his  steward,  and  said,  How  may  I  rid  this  var- 
let from  the  world,  that  thus  hath  defamed  me  ?  My 
e  4 


CV111  INTRODUCTION. 

most  dear  lord,  quoth  the  steward,  right  well  you 
shall  have  your  intent. 

"For  here  beside,  within  these  three  miles,  ye  have 
brick-makers,  which  daily  make  great  fire,  for  to 
burn  brick,  and  also  they  make  lime,  therefore  my 
lord,  send  to  them  this  night,  charge  them  upon 
pain  of  death,  that  whosoever  cometh  to  them  first 
in  the  morning,  saying  to  them  thus,  My  lord  com- 
mandeth  them  to  fulfil  his  will,  that  they  take  him 
and  cast  him  into  the  furnace,  and  burn  him  :  and 
this  night  command  you  this  Fulgentius,  that  he  go 
early  in  the  morning  to  your  workmen,  and  that  he 
ask  them  whether  they  have  fulfilled  your  will  which 
they  were  commanded,  or  not ;  and  then  shall  they, 
according  to  your  commandment,  cast  him  into  the 
fire,  and  thus  shall  he  die  an  evil  death. 

"  Surely  quoth  the  emperor,  thy  counsel  is  good, 
therefore  call  to  me  that  varlet  Fulgentius.  And 
when  the  young  man  was  come  to  the  emperor's  pre- 
sence, he  said  to  him  thus,  I  charge  thee  upon  pain 
of  death,  that  thou  rise  early  in  the  morning,  and 
go  to  the  burners  of  lime  and  brick,  and  that  thou 
be  with  them  early  before  the  sun  rise,  three  miles 
from  this  house,  and  charge  them  in  my  behalf,  that 
they  fulfil  my  commandment,  or  else  they  shall  die 
a  most  shameful  death. 


INTKODUCTION.  C1X 

"  Then  spake  this  Fulgentius.  My  Lord,  if  God 
send  me  my  life,  I  shall  fulfil  your  will,  were  it  that 
I  go  to  the  world's  end. 

"  When  Fulgentius  had  this  charge,  he  could  not 
sleep  for  thought,  that  he  must  rise  early  to  fulfil 
his  lord's  commandment.  The  emperor  about  mid- 
night sent  a  messenger  on  horseback  unto  his  brick- 
makers,  commanding,  that  upon  pain  of  death,  that 
whosoever  came  to  them  first  in  the  morning,  say- 
ing unto  them  (as  is  before  rehearsed)  they  should 
take  him  and  bind  him,  and  cast  him  into  the  fire, 
and  burn  him  to  the  bare  bones. 

"The  brick-makers  answered  and  said,  it  should  be 
done.  Then  the  messenger  returns  home  again,  and 
told  the  emperor  that  his  commandment  should  be 
diligently  fulfilled. 

"Early  in  the  morning  following,  Fulgentius  arose 
and  prepared  him  towards  his  way,  and  as  he  went, 
he  heard  a  bell  ring  to  service,  wherefore  he  went 
to  hear  service,  and  after  the  end  of  service  he  fell 
asleep,  and  there  slept  a  long  while  so  soundly,  that 
the  priest,  nor  none  other,  might  awake  him. 

"  The  steward  desiring  inwardly  to  hear  of  his 
death,  about  two  of  the  clock  he  went  to  the  work- 
men, and  said  unto  them  thus.    Sirs  (quoth  he)  have 
ye  done  the  emperor's  commandment  or  no  ? 
60 


CX  INTRODUCTION. 

"  The  brick-makers  answered  him  and  said.  No 
truly,  we  have  not  yet  done  his  commandment,  but 
it  shall  be  done,  and  with  that  they  laid  hands  on 
him.  Then  cried  the  steward,  and  said,  Good  sirs 
save  my  life,  for  the  emperor  commanded  that  Ful- 
gentius  should  be  put  to  death.  Then  said  they,  the 
messenger  told  us  not  so,  but  he  bad  us,  that  who- 
soever came  first  in  the  morning,  saying  as  you  have 
said,  that  we  should  take  him,  and  cast  him  into  the 
furnace,  and  burn  him  to  ashes :  and  with  that  they 
threw  him  into  the  fire. 

"And  when  he  was  burnt,  Pulgentius  came  to  them 
and  said :  Good  sirs,  have  you  done  my  lord's  com- 
mandment, yea,  soothly,  said  they,  and  therefore  go 
ye  again  to  the  emperor,  and  tell  him  so.  Then 
said  Fulgentius,  for  Christ's  love  tell  me  that  com- 
mandment. 

i  "  We  had  in  commandment  said  they,  upon  pain 
of  death,  that  whosoever  came  to  us  first  in  the 
morning,  and  said  like  as  thou  hast  said,  that  we 
should  take  him  and  cast  him  into  the  furnace :  But 
before  thee,  came  the  steward,  and  therefore  on  him 
have  we  fulfilled  the  emperor's  commandment,  now 
he  is  burnt  to  the  bare  bones. 

"  When  Fulgentius  heard  this,  he  thanked  G-od, 
that  he  had  so  preserved  him  from  death,  therefore  he 
5 


INTRODUCTION.  Cxi 

took  his  leave  "of  the  workmen,  and  went  again  to 
the  palace. 

"  "When  the  emperor  saw  him,  he  was  almost  dis- 
tract of  his  wits  for  anger,  and  thus  he  said.  Hast 
thou  been  with  the  brick-makers,  and  fulfilled  my 
commandment  ?  Soothly  my  gracious  Lord  I  have 
been  there,  but  ere  I  came  there,  your  command- 
ment was  fulfilled.  How  may  that  be  true,  quoth 
the  emperor  ? 

"  Forsooth,  said  Fulgentius,  the  steward  came  to 
them  afore  me,  and  said  that  I  should  have  said,  so 
they  took  him  and  threw  him  into  the  furnace,  and 
if  I  had  come  any  earlier,  so  would  they  have  done 
to  me,  and  therefore  I  thank  God,  that  he  hath  pre- 
served me  from  death. 

"  Then  said  the  emperor,  tell  me  the  truth  of  such 
questions  as  I  shall  demand  of  thee.  Then  said  Ful- 
gentius  to  the  emperor :  You  never  found  me  in  any 
falsehood,  and  therefore  I  greatly  wonder  why  ye 
have  ordained  such  a  death  for  me  ?  for  well  ye 
know,  that  I  am  your  own  brother's  son.  Then 
said  the  emperor  to  Eulgentius :  It  is  no  wonder,  for 
that  death  I  ordained  for  thee,  through  counsel  of 
the  steward,  because  thou  didst  defame  me  through- 
out all  my  empire,  saying  that  my  breath  did  stink 
so  grievously,  that  it  was  death  to  thee,  and  in 
e  6 


CX11  INTRODUCTION. 

token  thereof  thou  turnedst  away  thy  face  when  thou 
servedst  ine  of  my  cup,  and  that  I  saw  with  mine 
eyes ;  and  for  this  cause  I  ordained  for  thee  such  a 
death ;  and  yet  thou  shalt  die,  except  I  hear  a  better 
excuse. 

"Then  answered  Fulgentius,  and  said;  Ah  dear 
lord,  if  it  might  please  your  highness  for  to  hear  me, 
I  shall  shew  you  a  subtile  and  deceitful  imagination. 
Say  on,  quoth  the  emperor. 

"  The  steward  (quoth  Fulgentius)  that  is  now  dead* 
came  to  me  and  said,  that  ye  told  unto  him  that  my 
breath  did  stink,  and  thereupon  he  counselled  me 
that  when  I  served  you  of  your  cup,  I  should  turn 
my  face  away,  I  take  God  to  witness,  I  lie  not. 

"  When  the  emperor  heard  this,  he  believed  him, 
and  said,  O  my  nephew,  now  I  see,  through  the 
right  wise  judgment  of  Q-od,  the  steward  is  burnt, 
and  his  own  wickedness  and  envy  is  fallen  on  him- 
self, for  he  ordained  this  malice  against  thee,  and 
therefore  thou  art  much  bound  to  Almighty  G-od, 
that  hath  preserved  thee  from  death1. 

1  On  this  story  Schiller  seems  to  have  founded  his  legend  of 
"  Fridolin,  or  the  Road  to  the  Iron  Foundery,"  lately  translated 
by  Mr.  Collier.  In  Schiller  the  cause  of  the  youth's  purposed  de- 
struction is  jealousy  malignantly  excited  in  the  mind  of  his 
Master,  by  Robert  the  Huntsman. 


INTRODUCTION.  CX1U 

"  This  story  may  have  come  from  the  East.  (See 
Scott's  (Tales  from  the  Arabic  and  Persian,  p.  53, 
where  there  is  an  excellent  story,  of  similar  con- 
struction.) It  is  likewise  extremely  well  related  in 
the  Contes  devots,  or  Miracles  of  the  Virgin,  (Le 
Grand,  Fabliaux,  v.  74.)  and  in  other  places." — 
DOUCE. 

But  the  termination,  and  most  of  the  principal  circumstances 
of  the  story  are  similar.  Here  then  arises  a  pretty  strong  in- 
ference that  Mr.  Douce's  opinions  relative  to  what  he  terms  the 
English  Gesta,  are  not  altogether  accurate.  Whence  had  Schil- 
ler this  story,  if  not  from  the  GBSTA  ?  And  if  from  thence  a  copy 
of  it  was  probably  in  his  possession.  The  resemblance  is  too 
close  to  suppose  it  furnished  by  tradition  when  there  were  ac- 
tually several  printed  or  MS.  copies.  And  even  in  that  view, 
it  opposes  the  idea  of  an  English  origin,  which  is  the  hypothesis 
of  Mr.  Douce.  Such  are  my  sentiments ;  the  following  is  the 
account  given  by  Mr.  Collier.  "  Not  long  subsequent  to  the 
first  publication  of  '  Fridolin, '  it  became  so  great  a  favourite 
throughout  Germany,  that  it  was  converted  into  a  five  act  play, 
by  Holbein,  the  director  of  the  theatre  at  Prague ;  and  during 
the  fifteen  years  that  followed,  it  was  represented  on  most  of  the 
continental  stages  with  great  success,  other  authors  making  use 
of  the  same  story.  It  was  also  set  to  music  by  C.  F.  Weber, 
master  of  the  chapel  at  Berlin,  and  in  this  shape  it  was  ex- 
tremely popular.  Mr.  Boetiger  informs  us,  that  the  origin  of 
the  story  is  an  Alsatian  tradition,  which  Schiller  learnt  when  at 
Manheim.  The  probable  adherence  to  this  Volkssage,  as  far  as 
was  at  all  convenient,  will  account  for  the  mode  in  which  the 
author  has  treated  some  incidents.  We  know  of  no  similar 
narraive,  or  ballad,  in  English."— .Rwiarfo  on  Fridolin,  p.  37. 


CX1V  INTRODUCTION. 


CHAPTER  C. 

The  commencement  of  this  story  is  in  Tale  XXIV • 
Vol.  II.    Not  observed  by  Mr.  Douce1. 


CHAPTER  CI. 

"  In  Rome  dwelt  some  time  a  mighty  emperor, 
named  Manelay,  which  had  wedded  the  king's 
daughter  of  Hungaria,  a  fair  lady,  and  gracious  in 
all  her  works,  especially  she  was  merciful.  On  a 
time,  as  the  emperor  lay  in  his  bed,  he  bethought 
him,  that  he  would  go  and  visit  the  Holy  Land. 
And  on  the  morrow  he  called  to  him  the  empress  his 
wife,  and  his  own  only  brother,  and  thus  he  said ; 
Dear  lady,  I  may  not,  nor  will  not  hide  from  you 
the  privities  of  my  heart,  I  purpose  to  visit  the  Holy 
Land,  wherefore  I  ordain  thee  principally  to  be  lady 
and  governess  over  all  my  empire,  and  all  my  peo- 
ple ;  and  under  thee  I  ordain  here  my  brother  to  be 
thy  steward,  for  to  provide  all  things  may  be  profit- 
able to  my  empire  and  my  people. 

1  These  omissions  of  Mr.  Douce,  it  is  presumed,  indicate  a 
less  considerable  variation  than  he  supposed ;  while,  at  the 
same  time,  they  go  a  great  way  to  prove  the  two  Gestas  one. 


INTRODUCTION.  CXV 

"  Then  said  the  empress,  sith  it  will  no  otherwise 
be,  but  that  needs  thou  wilt  go  to  visit  the  city  of 
Jerusalem,  I  shall  be  in  your  absence  as  true  as  any 
turtle  that  hath  lost  her  mate ;  for  as  I  believe,  ye 
shall  not  escape  thence  with  your  life. 

"  The  emperor  anon  comforts  her  with  fair  words, 
and  kissed  her,  and  after  that  took  his  leave  of  her 
and  all  others,  and  went  toward  the  city  of  Jeru- 
salem. 

"  And  anon  after  the  emperor  was  gone,  his  bro- 
ther became  so  proud,  that  he  oppressed  poor  men 
and  robbed  rich  men ;  and  he  did  worse  than  this, 
for  he  daily  stirred  the  empress  to  commit  sin  with 
him  ;  but  she  ever  answered  again  as  a  holy  and  de- 
vout woman ;  nevertheless  this  knight  would  not 
leave  with  this  answer,  but  ever  when  he  found  her 
alone,  he  made  his  complaint  to  her,  and  stirred  her 
by  all  the  ways  that  he  could  to  sin. 

"  When  this  lady  saw  that  he  would  not  cease  for 
any  answer,  nor  would  not  amend  himself;  when 
she  saw  her  time,  she  called  to  her  three  or  four  of 
the  worthiest  men  of  the  empire,  and  said  to  them 
thus  :  It  is  not  unknown  to  you,  that  my  lord  the 
emperor  ordained  me  principal  governor  of  this  em- 
pire, and  also  he  ordained  his  brother  to  be  steward 
under  me,  and  that  he  should  do  nothing  without  my 


CXV1  INTRODUCTION. 

counsel,  but  he  doth  all  the  contrary ;  for  he  op- 
presseth  greatly  poor  men,  and  likewise  robbeth  the 
rich  men ;  yet  he  would  do  more  than  this  if  he 
might  have  his  intent ;  wherefore  I  command  you  in 
my  lord's  name,  that  you  bind  him  fast,  and  cast 
him  into  prison. 

"  Then  said  they,  soothly  he  hath  done  many  evil 
deeds  since  our  lord  the  emperor  went,  therefore 
we  be  ready  to  obey  your  commandments,  but  in 
this  matter,  you  must  answer  for  us  to  our  lord 
the  emperor. 

"  Then  said  she,  Dread  ye  not,  if  my  lord  knew 
what  he  had  done  as  well  as  I,  he  would  put  him  to 
the  foulest  death  that  could  be  thought.  Imme- 
diately these  men  laid  hands  on  him,  and  bound  him 
fast  with  iron  chains,  and  put  him  in  prison,  where 
he  lay  long  time  after,  till  at  the  last  it  fortuned, 
there  came  tidings  that  the  emperor  was  coming 
home,  and  had  obtained  great  renown  and  victory. 
"When  his  brother  heard  of  his  coming,  he  said, 
"Would  to  Grod  my  brother  might  not  find  me  in 
prison,  for  if  he  do,  he  will  enquire  the  cause  of  my 
imprisonment  of  the  empress,  and  she  will  tell  him 
all  the  truth  how  I  moved  her  to  commit  sin,  and  so 
for  her  I  shall  have  no  favour  of  my  brother,  but 
lose  my  life ;  this  know  I  well :  therefore  it  shall  not 


INTRODUCTION.  CXvil 

be  so.  Then  sent  he  a  messenger  unto  the  empress 
praying  her  that  she  would  vouchsafe  to  come  to  the 
prison  door,  that  he  might  speak  a  word  or  two  with 
her. 

"  The  empress  came  to  him,  and  enquired  of  him 
what  he  would  have.  He  answered  and  said,  O 
lady,  have  mercy  upon  me,  for  if  the  emperor  my 
brother  find  me  in  prison,  then  shall  I  die  without 
any  remedy. 

"  Then  said  the  empress,  If  I  might  know  that  thou 
wouldst  be  a  good  man  and  leave  thy  folly,  thou 
shouldst  find  grace.  Then  did  he  promise  her  as- 
suredly to  be  true,  and  to  amend  all  his  trespass^ 
"When  he  had  thus  promised,  the  empress  deliver'd 
him  anon,  and  made  him  to  be  bathed  and  shaven, 
and  apparelled  him  worthily,  according  to  his  state, 
and  then  she  said  thus  to  him  :  Now  good  brother 
take  thy  steed,  and  come  with  me,  that  we  may  meet 
my  lord.  He  answered  and  said,  lady,  I  am  ready 
to  fulfil  your  will  and  commandment  in  all  things  ; 
and  then  the  empress  took  him  with  her,  and  many 
other  knights,  and  so  rode  forth  to  meet  the  empe- 
ror :  and  as  they  rode  together  by  the  way,  they  saw 
a  great  hart  run  before  them,  wherefore  every  man, 
with  such  hounds  as  they  had,  chased  him  on  horse- 
back ;  so  that  with  the  empress  was  left  no  creature, 
e  9 


CXVU1  INTRODUCTION. 

save  only  the  emperor's  brother,  who  seeing  that  no 
man  was  there  but  they  two,  thus  he  said  unto  the 
empress ;  Lo,  lady,  here  is  beside  a  private  forest, 
and  long  it  is  ago  that  I  spake  to  thee  of  love. 

"  Then  said  the  empress,  Ah  fool,  what  may  this 
be  ?  Yesterday  I  delivered  thee  out  of  prison  upon 
thy  promise,  in  hope  of  amendment,  and  now  thou 
art  returned  to  thy  folly  again ;  wherefore  I  say  unto 
thee,  as  I  have  said  before.  Then  said  he,  if  thou 
wilt  not  consent  unto  me,  I  shall  hang  thee  here 
upon  a  tree  in  this  forest,  where  no  man  shall  find 
thee,  and  so  shalt  thou  die  an  evil  death.  4|  The  em- 
press answered  meekly,  and  said,  Though  thou  smite 
off  my  head,  or  put  me  to  death  with  all  manner  of 
torments,  thou  shalt  never  have  my  consent  to  such 
a  sin. 

"When  he  heard  this,  he  unclothed  her  all  save  her 
smock,  and  hanged  her  up  by  the  hair  upon  a  tree, 
and  tied  her  steed  before  her,  and  so  rode  to  his 
fellows,  and  told  them  that  a  great  host  of  men  met 
him,  and  took  the  empress  away  from  him,  and 
when  he  had  told  them  this,  they  made  all  great 
sorrow. 

"It  befell  on  the  third  day  after,  there  came  an  earl 
to  hunt  in  that  forest,  and  as  he  rode  beating  the 
bushes,  he  unkennelled  a  fox,  whom  his  hounds  fol- 


INTRODUCTION.  CX1X 

lowed  fast,  till  they  came  near  the  tree  where  the 
empress  hanged.  And  when  the  dogs  smelt  the 
savour  of  the  empress,  they  left  the  fox,  and  ran 
towards  the  tree  as  fast  as  they  could. 

"  The  earl  seeing  this,  wondred  greatly,  and  spur- 
ring his  horse,  followed  them  till  he  came  where  the 
empress  hanged.  When  the  earl  saw  her  thus  hang- 
ing, he  marvelled  greatly,  forasmuch  as  she  was 
right  fair  and  beautiful  to  behold  ;  wherefore  he 
said  unto  her  in  this  manner- wise  :  O  woman,  who 
art  thou  ?  and  of  what  country  ?  and  wherefore 
hangest  thou  here  in  this  manner  ? 

"  The  empress  that  was  not  yet  fully  dead,  but  at 
point  ready  to  die,  answered  and  said,  I  am,  quoth 
she,  a  strange  woman,  and  am  come  out  of  a  far 
country,  but  how  I  came  hither,  G-od  knoweth, 
Then  answered  the  earl  and  said,  whose  horse  is 
this  that  standest  by  thee  bound  to  this  tree  ?  Then 
answered  the  lady  and  said,  that  it  was  hers.  When 
the  earl  heard  this,  he  saw  well  that  she  was  a  gen- 
tlewoman, and  come  of  noble  lineage,  wherefore  he 
was  the  rather  moved  with  pity,  and  said  unto  her : 
O  fair  lady,  thou  seemest  of  gentle  blood,  and 
therefore  I  purpose  to  deliver  thee  from  this  mis- 
chief, if  thou  wilt  promise  to  go  with  me,  and  nou- 
rish my  fair  young  daughter,  and  teach  her  at  home 


CXX  INTRODUCTION. 

in  my  castle,  for  I  have  no  child  but  only  her,  and 
if  thou  keep  her  well  thou  shalt  have  a  good  reward 
for  thy  labour.  Then  said  she  :  As  far  forth  as  I 
can  or  may,  I  shall  fulfil  your  intent.  And  when 
she  had  thus  promised  him,  he  took  her  down  off 
the  tree,  and  led  her  home  to  his  castle,  and  gave 
her  the  keeping  of  his  daughter  that  he  loved  so 
much,  and  she  was  cherished  so  well,  that  she  lay 
every  night  in  the  earl's  chamber,  and  his  daughter 
with  her :  and  in  the  chamber  every  night  there 
burned  a  lamp,  which  hanged  between  the  empresses 
bed  and  the  earl's  bed.  This  lady  behaved  herself 
so  gently,  that  she  was  beloved  of  every  creature. 
There  was  at  that  time  in  the  Earl's  house  a  steward, 
which  much  loved  this  empress,  and  often  spake  to 
her  of  his  love.  But  she  answered  him  again  and 
said,  Know  ye,  dear  friend,  for  a  certainty,  that  I  will 
never  love  any  man  in  such  manner- wise,  but  only 
him  whom  I  am  greatly  bound  to  love  by  God's 
commandment. 

"  Then  said  the  steward,  Then  thou  wilt  not  con- 
sent unto  me  ?  Sir,  quoth  she,  what  need  you  any 
more  to  ask  such  things  ?  The  vow  that  I  have  made, 
I  will  truly  keep,  and  hold  by  the  grace  of  God. 

"And  when  the  steward  heard  this,  he  went  his  way 


INTRODUCTION.  CXX1 

in  great  wrath  and  anger,  thinking  within  himself,  if 
I  may,  I  shall  be  revenged  on  thee. 

"  It  befell  upon  a  night  within  a  short  time  after, 
that  the  earl's  chamber  door  was  forgotten,  and  left 
unshut,  which  the  steward  had  anon  perceived :  and 
when  they  were  all  asleep,  he  went  and  espied  by  the 
light  of  the  lamp  where  the  empress  and  the  young 
maiden  lay  together,  and  with  that  he  drew  out  his 
knife,  and  cut  the  throat  of  the  earl's  daughter 
and  put  the  knife  into  the  empresses  hand,  she  being 
asleep,  and  nothing  knowing  thereof,  to  the  intent, 
that  when  the  Earl  awaked  he  should  think  that  she 
had  cut  his  daughter's  throat,  and  so  would  she  be 
put  to  a  shameful  death  for  his  mischievous  deed  *. 
And  when  the  damsel  was  thus  slain,  and  the  bloody 
knife  in  the  empresses  hand,  the  countess  awaked 
out  of  her  sleep,  and  saw  by  the  light  of  the  lamp 
the  bloody  knife  in  the  empresses  hand,  wherefore 
she  was  almost  out  of  her  wits,  and  said  to  the  earl, 
O  my  lord,  behold  in  yonder  lady's  hand  a  wonder- 
full  thing. 

"  The  earl  awaked,  and  looked  to  ward  the  empresses 
bed ;  and  saw  the  bloody  knife,  as  the  countess  had 
said  :  wherefore  he  was  greatly  moved,  and  cried  to 
her,  and  said,  Awake,  woman,  out  of  thy  sleep,  what 

thing  is  this  that  I  see  in  thy  hand :  Then  the  em- 
* 
This  incident  will  remind  the  reader  of  a  similar  one  in  MACBETH  . 


CXX11  INTRODUCTION. 

press  through  his  cry  awaked  out  of  her  sleep,  and 
in  her  waking  the  knife  fell  out  of  her  hand,  and  with 
that  she  looked  by  her,  and  found  the  earl's  daugh- 
ter dead  by  her  side,  and  all  the  bed  besprinkled 
with  blood,  wherefore  with  an  high  voice  she  cried, 
and  said,  Alas !  alas !  and  wo  is  me,  my  lord's 
daughter  is  slain. 

"  Then  cried  the  countess  unto  the  earl  with  a 
piteous  voice,  and  said,  0  my  lord,  let  this  devilish 
woman  be  put  to  the  foulest  death  that  can  be  thought 
which  thus  hath  slain  our  only  child. 

"Then when  the  countess  had  said  thus  to  the  earl, 
he  said  to  the  empress  in  this  wise  ;  The  high  God 
knoweth  that  thou  mischievous  woman,  hast  slain 
iny  daughter  with  thine  own  hands,  for  I  saw  the 
bloody  knife  in  thy  hand,  and  therefore  thou  shalt 
die  a  foul  death.  Then  said  the  earl  in  this  wise  :  O 
thou  woman,  were  it  not  I  dread  God  greatly,  I 
should  cleave  thy  body  with  my  sword  in  two  parts, 
for  I  delivered  thee  from  hanging,  and  now  thou 
hast  slain  my  daughter ;  nevertheless,  for  me  thou 
shalt  have  no  harm,  therefore  go  thy  way  out  of  this 
city,  without  any  delay,  for  if  I  find  thee  here  after 
this  day,  thou  shalt  die  a  most  cruel  death. 

"  Then  arose  this  woful  empress,  and  put  on  her 
cloaths,  and  after  leap'd  on  her  palfrey,  and  rode  to- 


INTRODUCTION.  CXXlil 

ward  the  east  alone  without  any  safe  conduct ;  and 
as  she  rode  thus,  mourning  by  the  way,  she  espied  on 
the  left  side  of  the  way  a  pair  of  gallows,  and  seven 
officers  leading  a  man  to  be  hanged,  wherefore  she 
was  moved  with  great  pity,  and  smote  her  horse  with 
her  stick,  and  rode  to  them,  praying  that  she  might 
redeem  that  misdoer  if  he  might  be  saved  from  death 
by  any  means. 

"  Then  said  they,  lady,  it  pleaseth  us  well  that  you 
redeem  him.  Anon  the  empress  accorded  with  them 
and  paid  his  ransom,  and  he  was  delivered. 

"  Then  said  she  to  him :  Now  my  good  friend  be 
true  unto  me  till  thou  die,  sith  I  have  delivered  thee 
from  death. 

"  On  my  soul  (quoth  he)  I  promise  you  ever  to  be 
true.  And  when  he  had  thus  said,  he  followed  the 
lady  still,  till  they  came  nigh  a  city,  and  then  said 
the  empress  to  him  :  Grood  friend,  quoth  she,  go 
forth  thy  way  afore  me  into  the  city,  and  see  thou 
take  up  for  us  an  honest  lodging,  for  there  I  purpose 
to  rest  awhile.  Her  man  went  forth  as  she  com- 
manded, and  took  up  her  a  good  lodging,  and  an 
honest,  where  she  abode  a  long  time.  When  the 
men  of  the  city  perceived  her  beauty,  they  wondred 
greatly  ;  wherefore  many  of  them  craved  of  her  un 


CXX1V  INTRODUCTION. 

lawful  love,  but  all  was  in  vain,  for  they  might  not 
speed  in  any  wise. 

"  It  fortuned  after  upon  a  day,  that  there  came  a 
ship  full  of  merchandise,  and  arrived  in  the  haven  of 
that  city.  "When  the  lady  heard  this,  she  said  unto 
her  servant :  Gro  to  the  ship,  and  see  if  there  be  any 
cloth  for  my  use. 

"  Her  servant  went  forth  to  the  ship  whereas  he 
found  many  very  fine  cloths :  wherefore  he  pray'd 
the  master  of  the  ship,  that  he  would  come  to  the  city 
and  speak  with  his  lady.  The  master  granted  him, 
and  so  the  servant  came  home  to  his  lady  before,  and 
warned  her  of  the  coming  of  the  master  of  the  ship. 
Soon  after  the  master  of  the  ship  came  and  saluted 
her  courteously,  and  the  lady  received  him  accord- 
ing to  his  degree,  praying  him  that  she  might  have 
for  her  money  such  cloth  as  might  be  profitable  for 
her  wearing.  Then  he  granted  that  she  should  have 
any  thing  that  liked  her,  and  soon  they  were  agreed, 
wherefore  the  servant  went  immediately  again  with 
the  master  of  the  ship  for  the  cloth.  And  when  they 
were  both  within  on  ship-board,  the  master  said  to 
the  lady's  servant :  My  dear  friend,  to  thee  I  would 
open  my  mind,  if  I  might  trust  to  thee,  and  if  thou 
help  me,  thou  shalt  have  of  me  a  great  reward. 


INTRODUCTION.  CXXV 

"Then  answered  he  and  said :  I  shall  (quoth he)  be 
sworn  to  thee  to  keep  thy  counsel,  and  fulfil  thine 
intent  as  far  forth  as  I  can. 

"  Then  said  the  master  of  the  ship,  I  love  thy  lady 
more  than  I  can  tell  thee,  for  her  beauty  and  feature 
is  so  excellent,  that  I  would  give  for  the  love  of  her, 
all  the  gold  that  I  have  :  and  if  I  may  obtain  the  love 
of  her  through  thy  help,  I  will  give  thee  whatsoever 
thou  wilt  desire  of  me. 

"  Then  said  the  lady's  servant,  tell  me  by  what 
means  I  may  best  help  thee.  Then  said  the  master 
of  the  ship,  go  home  to  thy  lady  again,  and  tell  her, 
that  I  will  not  deliver  to  thee  the  cloth  except  she 
come  herself;  and  do  thou  but  bring  her  to  my  ship, 
and  if  the  wind  be  good  and  fit,  then  I  purpose  to 
lead  her  away.  Thy  counsel  is  good,  quoth  the  lady's 
servant,  therefore  give  me  some  reward,  and  I  shall 
fulfil  thy  desire. 

"  Now  when  he  had  received  his  reward,  he  went 
again  to  the  lady,  and  told  her,  that  by  no  means  the 
master  of  the  ship  would  deliver  him  the  cloth,  ex- 
cept she  came  to  him  herself. 

"  The  lady  believed  her  servant,  and  went  to  the 
ship.  Now  when  she  was  within  the  ship-board,  her 
servant  abode  without. 

VOL.  i.  f 


CXXV1  INTRODUCTION. 

f  "  When  the  master  saw  that  she  was  within  the  ship, 
and  the  wind  was  good,  he  drew  up  the  sail  and  sailed 
forth. 

"When  the  lady  perceived  this,  thus  she  said  to  the 
master :  O  master  (quoth  she)  what  treason  is  this 
thou  hast  done  to  me  ?  The  master  answered  and 
said :  certainly  it  is  so,  that  I  must  needs  *  *  *  * 
espouse  thee.  O  good  sir,  quoth  she,  I  have  made 
a  vow,  that  I  shall  never  do  such  a  thing  *  *  *  * 
Soothly,  quoth  he,  if  you  will  not  grant  me  with 
your  good  will,  I  will  cast  you  out  into  the  midst  of 
the  sea,  and  there  shall  ye  die  an  evil  death :  If  it  be 
so,  quoth  she,  that  I  must  needs  consent,  or  else  die, 
first  I  pray  thee  to  prepare  a  private  place  in  the 
end  of  the  ship,  whereas  I  may  fulfil  thine  intent 
ere  I  die,  and  also  I  pray  thee,  that  I  may  say  my 
prayers  unto  the  father  of  heaven,  that  he  may  have 
mercy  on  me. 

"  The  master  believed  her,  wherefore  he  did  ordain 
her  a  cabbin  in  the  end  of  the  ship,  wherein  she 
kneeled  down  on  both  her  knees  and  made  her  pray- 
ers, saying  on  this  wise :  0  thou  my  Lord  God, 
thou  hast  kept  me  from  my  youth  in  cleanness,  keep 
me  now  *****  so  that  I  may  ever  serve  thee 
with  a  clean  heart  and  mind,  and  let  not  this  wicked 


INTRODUCTION.  CXXVll 

man  prevail  with  me,  nor  any  other  the  like  wicked- 
ness come  nigh  me.  When  she  had  ended  her  pray- 
ers, there  arose  suddenly  a  great  tempest  in  the  sea, 
BO  that  the  ship  all  brast,  and  all  that  were  therein 
perished,  save  the  lady ;  and  she  caught  a  cable 
and  saved  herself,  and  the  master  caught  a  board  of 
the  ship  and  saved  himself,  likewise ;  nevertheless, 
she  knew  not  of  him,  nor  he  of  her,  for  they  were 
driven  to  divers  coasts.  The  lady  landed  in  her 
own  empire  near  to  a  rich  city,  wherein  she  was  ho- 
nourably received,  and  she  lived  so  holy  a  life,  that 
Grod  gave  her  grace  and  power  to  heal  sick  folk  of 
all  manner  of  diseases  ;  wherefore  there  came  much 
people  to  her,  both  crooked,  blind,  and  lame,  and 
every  man  through  the  grace  of  Grod,  and  her  good 
endeavour  was  healed,  wherefore  her  name  was 
known  thro'  diuers  regions.  Nevertheless,  she  was 
not  known  as  the  empress.  At  the  same  time  the 
emperor's  brother,  that  had  hanged  her  before  by 
the  hair  was  smitten  with  a  foul  leprosie.  The 
knight  that  slew  the  earl's  daughter,  and  put  the 
bloody  knife  in  her  hand,  was  blind,  deaf,  and  had 
the  palsie.  The  thief  that  betrayed  her  to  the 
master  of  the  ship,  was  lame  and  full  of  the  cramp, 
and  the  master  of  the  ship  distraught  of  his  wits. 
"  When  the  emperor  heard  that  so  holy  a  woman 
£2 


CXXV111  INTRODUCTION. 

was  in  the  city,  he  called  his  brother  and  said  to 
him  thus :  Go  we  dear  brother  unto  this  holy  wo- 
man that  is  dwelling  in  this  city,  that  she  may  heal 
thee  of  thy  leprosie.  "Would  to  God,  O  noble  bro- 
ther (quoth  he)  that  I  were  healed.  Anon  the  em- 
peror with  his  brother  went  toward  the  city.  Then 
when  the  citizens  heard  of  his  coming,  they  received 
him  honourably  with  procession  and  all  provision 
befitting  his  estate.  And  then  the  emperor  en- 
quired of  the  citizens,  if  any  such  holy  woman 
were  among  them,  that  could  heal  sick  folk  of  their 
diseases.  The  citizens  answered  and  said,  that  such 
an  one  there  was.  Now  at  the  same  time,  was  come 
to  the  same  city,  the  knight  that  slew  the  earl's 
daughter,  and  the  thief  which  she  saved  from  the 
gallows,  and  the  master  of  the  ship,  to  be  healed  of 
their  diseases. 

"Then  was  theempress  called  forth  before  the  em- 
peror, but  she  muffled  her  face  as  well  as  she  could, 
that  the  emperor  her  husband  should  not  know  her, 
and  when  she  had  so  done,  she  saluted  him  with 
great  reverence,  as  appertained  to  his  state ;  and 
again  he  in  like  manner,  saying  thus :  O  good  lady, 
if  thou  list  of  thy  kindness  to  heal  my  brother  of  his 
leprosie,  ask  of  me  what  you  will,  and  I  shall  grant 
it  thee  for  thy  reward. 


INTRODUCTION.  CXX1X 

"  When  the  empress  heard  this,  she  looked  about 
her,  and  saw  there  the  emperor's  brother,  a  foul  le- 
per ;  she  saw  there  also  the  knight  that  slew  the  earl's 
daughter,  blind  and  deaf,  the  thief  that  she  saved 
from  the  gallows  lame,  and  also  the  master  of  the 
ship  distraught  out  of  his  wits,  and  all  were  come  to 
her  to  be  healed  of  their  maladies,  and  knew  her 
not ;  but  though  they  knew  her  not,  she  knew  them 
well.  Then  said  she  unto  the  emperor  thus  :  "  My 
reverend  lord,  though  you  would  give  me  all  your 
empire,  I  cannot  heal  your  brother,  nor  none  of 
these  other,  except  they  acknowledge  openly  what 
great  evil  they  have  done. 

"  "When  the  emperor  heard  this,  he  turned  him  to- 
wards his  brother,  and  said  unto  him  :  brother,  ac- 
knowledge openly  thy  sin  before  all  these  men,  that 
thou  mayest  be  healed  of  thy  sickness.  Then  anon 
he  began  to  tell  how  he  had  led  his  life,  but  he  told 
not  how  he  had  hanged  the  empress  in  the  forest  by 
the  hair  of  the  head  most  despitefully. 

"  When  he  had  acknowledged  all  that  him  list,  the 
empress  replied,  and  said :  Soothly  my  Lord,  I 
would  gladly  lay  unto  him  my  medicine,  but  I  wot 
right  well  it  is  in  vain,  for  he  hath  not  made  a  full 
confession. 

f3 


CXXX  INTRODUCTION. 

"The  emperor  hearing  this, he  turned  towards  his 
brother,  and  said  in  this  wise :  What  evil,  sorrow, 
or  other  unhappy  wretchedness  is  in  thee  ?  Seest 
thou  not  how  that  thou  art  a  foul  leper  ?  therefore 
acknowledge  thy  sin  truly,  that  thou  mayest  be  whole, 
or  else  avoid  my  company  for  ever  more. 

"  Ah  my  lord,  quoth  he,  I  may  not  tell  my  life 
openly,  except  I  be  sure  of  thy  grace.  "What  hast 
thou  trespassed  against  me,  said  the  emperor?  Then 
answered  his  brother,  and  said:  Mine  offence  against 
thee  is  grievous,  and  therefore  I  heartily  ask  thee  for- 
giveness. The  emperor  thought  not  on  the  empress, 
forasmuch  as  he  supposed  she  had  been  dead  many 
years  before  :  therefore  he  commanded  his  brother 
to  tell  forth  wherein  he  had  offended  him,  and  he 
should  be  forgiven. 

"When  the  emperor  had  thus  forgiven  his  brother, 
he  began  to  tell  openly  how  he  had  desired  the  em- 
press to  commit  adultery  with  him,  and  because  she 
denied,  he  had  hanged  her  by  the  hair,  in  the  for- 
rest,  on  such  a  day. 

"When  the  emperor  heard  this,  he  was  almost  be- 
side himself,  and  in  his  rage  he  said  thus :  O  thou 
wretched  creature,  the  vengeance  of  G-od  is  fallen 
upon  thee,  and  were  it  not  that  I  have  pardoned 


INTRODUCTION.  CXXX1 

thee,thou  shouldest  die  the  most  shameful  death  that 
could  be  thought. 

"  Then  said  the  knight  that  slew  the  earl's  daugh- 
ter, I  wot  not  quoth  he,  what  lady  you  mean,  but  I 
wot  that  my  lord  found  on  a  time  such  a  lady  hang- 
ing in  the  forrest,  and  brought  her  home  to  his 
castle,  and  he  took  her,  and  gave  her  his  daughter 
to  keep,  and  I  provoked  her  as  much  as  I  could  to 
sin  with  me,  but  she  would  in  no  wise  consent  to 
me ;  wherefore  I  slew  the  earl's  daughter  that  lay 
with  her,  and  when  I  had  done  so,  I  put  the  bloody 
knife  in  the  lady's  hand,  that  the  earl  should  think 
that  she  had  slain  his  daughter  with  her  own  hand, 
and  then  she  was  exiled  thence,  but  where  she  be- 
came I  wot  not. 

"  Then  said  the  thief,  I  wot  not  of  what  lady  you 
mean;  but  well  I  wot,  that  seven  officers  were 
leading  me  to  the  gallows,  and  suoh  a  lady  came 
riding  by,  and  bought  me  of  them,  and  then  went  I 
with  her,  and  betrayed  her  unto  the  master  of  the 
ship. 

"  Such  a -lady,  quoth  the  master  of  the  ship,  re- 
ceived I,  and  when  we  were  in  the  midst  of  the  sea, 
I  would  have  lain  with  her,  but  she  kneeled  down  to 
her  prayers,  and  anon  there  arose  such  a  tempest, 
that  the  ship  all  to  brast,  and  all  therein  was  drown- 


CXXX11  INTRODUCTION. 

ed,  save  she  and  I,  but  afterward  what  befell  of  her 
I  wot  not. 

"  Then  cried  the  empress  with  a  loud  voice,  and 
said  :  Soothly  dear  friends,  ye  do  now  truly  confess 
and  declare  the  truth,  wherefore  I  will  now  apply 
my  medicine,  and  anon  they  received  their  healths. 

"  When  the  lady  the  empress  had  thus  done,  she 
uncovered  her  face  to  the  emperor,  and  he  forth- 
with knew  her,  and  ran  to  her,  and  embraced  her  in 
his  arms,  and  kissed  her  oftentimes,  and  for  joy  he 
wept  bitterly :  saying,  Biassed  be  God,  now  I  have 
found  that  I  desired.  And  when  he  had  thus  said, 
he  led  her  home  to  the  palace  with  great  joy ;  and 
after,  when  it  pleased  Almighty  God,  they  ended 
both  their  lives  in  peace  and  rest." 


"  Occleve  has  related  this  story  in  verse,  from  the 
present  work,  (MS.  Reg.  1  7  D.  vi.)  and  it  is  also 
to  be  found  in  the  Patranas  of  Timonida.  (Patr.  21.) 
The  outline  has  been  borrowed  from  one  of  the 
Contes  devots,  or  miracles  of  the  Virgin  Mary1. 
The  incident  of  the  bloody  knife  occurs  likewise  in 
Chaucer's  Man  of  Law's  Tale,  and  in  a  story  related 
by  Gower,  Confessio  Amantis,  fol.  32." — DOUCE. 

1  See  Vincent  of  Beauvais.  Spec.  Theol.  viii.  cap.  90.  91. 


INTRODUCTION.  CXXX111 

A  few  additional  remarks  upon  the  stories 
to  follow,  for  which  indulgence  is  bespoke, 
shall  close,  what  I  fear  the  reader  may  be  dis- 
posed to  consider,  as  toilsome  a  march  as  the 
doughty  knights  of  old  experienced,  in  gain- 
ing access  to  some  enchanted  castle.  But  let 
me  whisper  in  his  ear,  that  the  distressed 
damsels  whom  his  intrepidity  shall  relieve, 
are  most  of  them  passing  fair,  and  gentle.  He 
cannot  display  resolution  in  a  better  cause ; 
and  if  (de  gustibus  non  est  disputandum  I )  their 
beauty  sometimes  disappoint  his  expectations, 
let  him  remember,  that  adoration  has  been 
offered  them  by  past  ages  of  heroic  spirits : 
that  bards,  whose  names  are  familiar  in  our 
mouths,  as  household  words,  have  conde- 
scended to  adopt  them ;  and  therefore,  that 
they  possess  an  undoubted  claim  to  public 
consideration,  if  not  on  the  ground  of  their 
own  intrinsic  excellence, 
f  5 


CXXX1V  INTRODUCTION. 

Much  of  the  merit  of  these  fables,  consists 
in  the  curious  and  interesting  light  which 
they  throw  upon  a  period,  necessarily  involved 
in  great  obscurity.  The  fictions  are  strongly 
and  vividly  delineated ;  and  the  reader  feels 
himself  hurried  back  into  the  romantic  scenes 
of  chivalrous  emprize;  and  busily  mingling 
in  the  commotions  of  camp  and  court.  The 
fantastic  regulations  of  many  of  the  tales,  ac- 
cord with  historical  notices  of  chivalry ;  in 
which  the  most  ridiculous  commands  were  im- 
posed and  executed.  The  sports  of  the  field, 
united  with  the  pursuit  of  wild  adventure  : 
love,  and  war,,  and  devotion ;  absurd  penances 
for  unimaginable  crimes,  and  carelessness  for 
the  commission  of  enormous  ones,  form  no 
small  part  of  the  present  compilation.  Every 
natural  phenomenon  is  a  miracle ;  and  con- 
strued as  best  may  serve  the  interests,  or  ac- 
cord with  the  prejudices  of  the  party.  The 


INTRODUCTION.  CXXXV 

first  object  is  to  espouse  some  ineffably  fair 
daughter;  whose  affections  are  disposed  of, 
not  according  to  the  common  excellent  system 
of  policy,  or  power,  or  wealth;  but  by  the 
simple  and  singularly  efficacious  method  of 
resolving  certain  mysteries;  in  expounding 
riddles,  or  in  compliance  with  some  inexpli- 
cable vow.  If  this  should  be  considered  no 
very  favourable  account  of  what  the  reader 
may  look  for,  it  should  be  remembered,  that 
the  tales  in  question,  are  faithful  representa- 
tions of  other  days;  and  that  the  character 
with  which  the  period  is  impressed,  tolerates 
and  justifies  many  absurdities.  Yet  are  we 
not  to  suppose  every  thing  absurd  which  now 
appears  so.  The  progress  of  civilization  has 
introduced  a  vast  number  of  unnecessary  re- 
finements, at  which  our  ancestors  would 
laugh;  perhaps  more  boisterously,  but  with 
as  much  regard  to  justice)  as  their  politer  de^ 
f  6 


CXXXV1  INTRODUCTION. 

scendants   exhibit   at  the  inartifical  character 
of  earlier  times. 

Ignorance  is  always  credulous;  and  there- 
fore., in  considering  the  probability  or  impro- 
bability of  the  fable  we  must  consider  how  it 
was  calculated  to  impress  those  for  whom  it 
was  invented,  or  to  whom  it  was  told.  If  the 
narrator  suited  his  contrivance  to  the  under- 
standing, and  communicated  pleasure  to  the 
imagination  of  his  readers  or  auditors,  he  pos- 
sessed the  requisite  ingenuity ;  and  his  merit 
was  proportion  ably  great.  We  ought  not  to 
make  our  own,  the  standard  of  others'  judg- 
ments ;  much  less,  ought  we  to  impose  our 
own  age  and  nation,  as  the  criterion  of  past 
times  and  foreign  countries.  Comparatively 
secluded  as  the  monks  at  all  times  were,  their 
views  of  life  must  necessarily  have  been  con- 
fined also;  and  their  simplicity  would  easily 
be  duped  by  those  who  were  interested  in  de- 

6 


INTRODUCTION.  CXXXV11 

ceiving  them.      From   the   pulpit,   whence  it 
would  appear  that  their  stories  were  delivered, 
the   opportunity   of  adding   new  fictions,  for 
the    purpose    of    illustrating    new    positions, 
would  be  irresistible ;  and  here  we  trace  the 
source  of  many  of  the  strained  allusions  which 
so   repeatedly   occur.     The   good   old   custom 
likewise,  of  enlivening  a  winter's  evening  by 
the     relation    of  fabliaux,    accompanied,    no 
doubt,  by  moral  and  mystical  applications,  gives 
us  a  delightful  picture  of  the  social  intercourse 
and   familiarity   of   remote    times;    but    dis- 
covers to  us  another  incentive  to  extravagant- 
fancy,  and  high-flown  conceit.     The  attention 
of  their  hearers  could  only  be  rivetted  by  the 
marvellous;    and  that  which  was  barely  pro- 
bable, from  the  constant  recurrence  of  extra- 
vagant fiction — from  the  itching  ears,  which 
opened  only  to  the  wildest  exaggeration,  na- 
turally became  no  longer  acceptable,  because 


CXXXV111  INTRODUCTION. 

taste  was  vitiated,  and  the  imagination  over- 
wrought. All  these  circumstances  require  con- 
sideration in  forming  a  judgment  of  the  en- 
suing tales.  They  certainly  vary  in  point  of 
merit ;  but  many  of  them  are  eminently  beau- 
tiful. Some  display  a  rich  vein  of  pathos ; 
and  there  are  passages  of  deep  poetic  interest. 
In  the  description  of  manners,  however,  they 
are  unrivalled ;  and  my  aim  has  been,  to  ren- 
der passages  of  this  kind  with  all  fidelity ; 
while,  in  the  diction,  I  have  adhered  as  closely 
as  possible  to  that  simplicity  of  style,  which 
forms  the  principal  charm  of  ancient  narra- 
tive. 

In  perusing  the  conversational  parts,  the 
reader  who  has  pored  over  illuminated  manu- 
scripts, will  recal  subjects  to  which  they 
apply.  He  will  recollect  fair  ladies  glittering 
in  every  colour  of  the  rainbow,  chattering 
from  a  window  to  grotesque-looking  gentle- 


INTRODUCTION.  CXXX1X 

men  with  pink  feathers  drooping  from  im- 
mense hats ;  and  misshapen  shoes,  vying  iii 
the  longitude  of  their  peaks  with  a  barber's 
pole :  he  will  be  reminded  of  grim-visaged 
emperors  ornamented  with  royal  beards,  and 
projecting  jaws — in  short,  he  will  distinguish 
the  whole  of  what  these  volumes  delineate. 
There  is  in  the  British  Museum  a  beautiful 
manuscript  of  the  "Romant  de  la  Rose/' 
which  will,  in  most  respects,  exemplify  my 
observations. 

It  would  appear  that  hospitality  was  a 
never-failing  virtue;  and  the  eagerness  with 
which  pilgrims  and  way-faring  persons  were 
invited  to  share  the  repast,  and  partake  the 
couch  of  the  friendly  citizen;  or  to  occupy 
the  castle  of  the  knight,  is  a  pleasing  trait  in 
the  character  of  the  times.  But  it  will  be 
thought,  that  wisdom  was  a  scarce  commo- 
dity, when  three  prudential  maxims  were  ya- 

3 


Cxi  INTRODUCTION. 

lued  at  a  thousand  florins.  [See  Tale  XXIII. 
Vol.  2.]  Considering  the  result,  they  were 
cheaply  purchased;  although,  in  these  days, 
when  advice  is  much  oftener  given  than  paid 
for — even  with  thanks,  the  price  may  be 
deemed  somewhat  of  the  highest. 

The  many  stories  on  the  subject  of  adul- 
tery, seem  to  indicate  a  bad  moral  state  of 
society  at  the  time  they  were  written ;  and  it 
is  to  be  feared  that  the  lawless  feeling  which 
chivalry  in  its  decline  exhibited,  affords  an 
unhappy  confirmation.  Whether  the  fact  of 
the  monks  levelling  much  of  their  satire 
against  the  fair  sex  is  also  corroborative ;  or 
whether  it  proceed  from  that  impotence  of 
mind,  which  being  itself  fretted  by  circum- 
stance, would  gladly  efface  or  deteriorate 
whatever  is  the  object  of  its  unavailing 
wishes,  I  do  not  take  upon  me  to  decide. 

It  is  necessary  that  I  should  advertise  the 


INTRODUCTION.  Cxli 

reader  of  what  be  will  not  fail  to  perceive, 
that  the  tales  are  not  always  perfect  in  every 
part ;  nor  are  the  positions  laid  down  at  the 
commencement  always  remembered.  This 
may  result  from  ignorant  transcribers  having 
omitted  some  passages,  and  interpolated 
others ;  and  such  a  supposition  accounts,  as 
I  observed  before,  for  the  numerous  varia- 
tions which  appear  in  various  copies,  as  well 
as  for  the  introduction  of  certain  expressions 
that  have  been  considered  arguments  in  be- 
half of  their  origin.  That  they  have  been  col- 
lected from  all  countries,  and  at  many  times, 
I  have  no  doubt.  Some  appear  of  Italian  con- 
struction, a  few  German,  but  the  greater  part 
oriental.  The  absolute  power  of  the  empe- 
rors, who  sport  with  life  and  death  in  the 
most  capricious  and  extraordinary  manner — 
the  constant  introduction  of  the  leprosy  and 
crucifixion,  amply  confirm  their  connection 
with  the  East. 


Cxlii  INTRODUCTION. 

"  It  may  not  be  thought  impertinent  to 
close  this  discourse  with  a  remark  on  the 
MORALISATIONS  subjoined  to  the  stories  of 
the  GESTA  ROMANORUM.  This  was  an  age 
of  vision  and  mystery  :  and  every  work  was 
believed  to  contain  a  double,  or  secondary, 
meaning.  Nothing  escaped  this  eccentric 
spirit  of  refinement  and  abstraction ;  and, 
together  with  the  Bible,  as  we  have  seen,  not 
only  the  general  history  of  ancient  times  was 
explained  allegorically,  but  even  the  poetical 
fictions  of  the  classics  were  made  to  signify 
the  great  truths  of  religion,  with  a  degree  of 
boldness,  and  a  want  of  discrimination, 
which,  in  another  age,  would  have  acquired 
the  character  of  the  most  profane  levity,  if 
not  of  absolute  impiety,  and  can  only  be  de- 
fended from  the  simplicity  of  the  state  of 
knowledge  which  then  prevailed 

"  Thus,  God  creating  man  of  clay,  animated 


INTRODUCTION.  Cxliii 

with  the  vital  principle  of  respiration,  was  the 
story  of  Prometheus,  who  formed  a  man  of 
similar  materials,  to  which  he  communicated 
life  by  fire  stolen  from  heaven.  Christ  twice 
born,  of  his  Father,  God,  and  of  his  mother, 
Mary,  was  prefigured  by  Bacchus,  who  was 
first  born  of  Semele,  and  afterwards  of  Jupi- 
ter. And  as  Minerva  sprung  from  the  brain 
of  Jupiter,  so  Christ  proceeded  from  God 
without  a  mother.  Christ  born  of  the  Virgin 
Mary  was  expressed  in  the  fable  of  Dan'ae 
shut  within  a  tower,  through  the  covering  of 
which  Jupiter  descended  in  a  shower  of  gold, 
and  begat  Perseus.  Actseon,  killed  by  his 
own  hounds,  was  a  type  of  the  persecution 
and  death  of  our  Saviour.  The  poet  Lyco- 
phron  relates,  that  Hercules,  in  returning 
from  the  adventure  of  the  golden  fleece,  was 
shipwrecked ;  and  that  being  devoured  by  a 
monstrous  fish,  he  was  disgorged  alive  on  the 


CxllV  INTRODUCTION. 

shore  after  three  days.  Here  was  an  obvious 
symbol  of  Christ's  resurrection.  John  Wa- 
leys,  an  English  Franciscan  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  in  his  moral  exposition  of  Ovid's 
Metamorphoses,  affords  many  other  instances 
equally  ridiculous ;  and  who  forgot  that  he 
was  describing  a  more  heterogeneous  chaos, 
than  that  which  makes  so  conspicuous  a  figure 
in  his  author's  exordium,  and  which  com- 
bines, amid  the  monstrous  and  indigested 
aggregate  of  its  unnatural  associations, 


•Sine  pondere  habentia  pondus. 


"  At  length,  compositions  professedly  alle- 
gorical, with  which  that  age  abounded,  were 
resolved  into  allegories  for  which  they  were 
never  intended.  In  the  famous  ROM  AUNT 
OF  THE  ROSE,  written  about  the  year  1310, 

*  Hit.  L.  i.  20. 


INTRODUCTION.  Cxlv 

the  poet  couches  the  difficulties  of  an  ardent 
lover  in  attaining  the  object  of  his  passion, 
under  the  allegory  of  a  rose,  which  is  gathered 
in  a  delicious  but  almost  inaccessible  garden. 
The  theologists  proved  this  rose  to  be  the 
white  rose  of  Jericho,  the  new  Jerusalem,  a 
state  of  grace,  divine  wisdom,  the  holy  Vir- 
gin, or  eternal  beatitude,  at  none  of  which 
obstinate  heretics  can  ever  arrive.  The  che- 
mists pretended,  that  it  was  the  philosopher's 
stone ;  the  civilians,  that  it  was  the  most 
consummate  point  of  equitable  decision;  and 
the  physicians,  that  it  was  the  infallible  pa- 
nacea. In  a  word,  other  professions,  in  the 
most  elaborate  commentaries,  explained  away 
the  lover's  rose  into  the  mysteries  of  their 
own  respective  science.  In  conformity  to 
this  practice,  Tasso  allegorized  his  own  poem ; 
and  a  flimsy  structure  of  morality  was  raised 
on  the  chimerical  conceptions  of  Ariosto's.- 


Cxlvi  INTRODUCTION. 

ORLANDO.  In  the  year  1577,  a  translation 
of  a  part  of  Amadis  de  Gaule  appeared  in 
France;  with  a  learned  preface,  developing 
the  valuable  stores  of  profound  instruction, 
concealed  under  the  naked  letters  of  the  old 
romances,  which  were  discernible  only  to  the 
intelligent,  and  totally  unperceived  by  com- 
mon readers ;  who,  instead  of  plucking  the 
fruit,  were  obliged  to  rest  contented  with  le 
simple  FLEUR  de  la  Lecture  litterale.  Even 
Spenser,  at  a  later  period,  could  not  indulge 
his  native  impulse  to  descriptions  of  chivalry, 
without  framing  such  a  story,  as  conveyed, 
under  the  dark  conceit  of  ideal  champions,  a 
set  of  historic  transactions,  and  an  exemplifi- 
cation of  the  nature  of  the  twelve  moral  vir- 
tues. He  presents  his  fantastic  queen  with  a 
rich  romantic  mirrour,  which  shewed  the 
wondrous  achievements  of  her  magnificent 
ancestry. 


INTRODUCTION.  Cxlvii 

*  And  thou,  O  fairest  princess  under  sky, 
In  this  fayre  mirrour  maist  behold  thy  face, 
And  thine  own  realmes  in  lond  of  Faery, 
And  in  this  antique  image  thy  great  ancestry  *.' 

"It  was  not,  however,  solely  from  an  un- 
meaning and  a  wanton  spirit  of  refinement, 
that  the  fashion  of  resolving  every  thing  into 
allegory,  so  universally  prevailed.  The  same 
apology  may  be  offered  for  cabalistical  inter- 
preters, both  of  the  classics  and  of  the  old 
romances.  The  former,  not  willing  that  those 
books  should  be  quite  exploded  which  con- 
tained the  ancient  mythology,  laboured  to 
reconcile  the  apparent  absurdities  of  the  pa- 
gan system  to  the  Christian  mysteries,  by 
demonstrating  a  figurative  resemblance.  The 
latter,  as  true  learning  began  to  dawn,  with  a 
view  of  supporting  for  a  while  the  expiring 
credit  of  giants  and  magicians,  were  com- 

*  B.  ii.  lutrod.  St.  vi. 


Cxlviii  INTRODUCTION. 

pelled  to  palliate  those  monstrous  incredibi- 
lities, by  a  bold  attempt  to  unravel  the  mystic 
web  which  had  been  wove  by  fairy  hands, 
and  by  shewing  that  truth  was  hid  under  the 
gorgeous  veil  of  Gothic  invention  *." 


*  WARTON.  Introductory  Disser.  See  Hist,  of  E.  Poetry. 
Vol.  3.  p.  xciv.  et  seq.  I  cannot  omit  observing  here,  that  in  the 
opinions  which  I  have  hazarded,  I  am  led  by  no  presumptuous 
feeling  to  condemn  those  who  think  differently.  I  deprecate 
every  suspicion  to  the  contrary.  While  I  am  anxious  to  eluci- 
date and  establish  my  own  sentiments,  I  retain  the  utmost  respect 
and  deference  for  those  whose  research,  judgment,  critical  acu- 
men and  ability,  there  is  little  merit  in  frankly  avowing.  And  I 
take  this  opportunity  of  acknowledging  the  assistance  I  have  de- 
rived from  the  invaluable  labors  of  Mr.  Douce,  and  Mr.  Ellis — 
not  to  mention  a  fund  of  information  from  Mr.  Warton,  which 
the  reader  will  readily  observe.  The  latter  writer,  whose  inac- 
curacies have  been  the  theme  of  every  pen,  it  seems  to  me,  has 
not  been  justly  appreciated.  That  he  is  frequently  incorrect  is 
certain — but  he  is  blamed  by  those,  who  have  not  repaired  his 
deficiencies,  while  they  have  forgot  the  difficulty  of  his  un- 
dertaking, and  the  impossibility  of  preventing  typographical 
errors  in  a  work  of  such  extent.  A  slight  blunder,  which  I 
should  think  must  have  been  unintentional,  (Isumbras  for 
Ippotis)  causes  Ritson  to  accuse  him  of  an  "  Infamous  lie .'" 
See  Diss.  on  Romance  and  Minstrelsy ;  passim. 


GESTA    ROMANORUM. 


TALE    I. 


OF   LOVE. 

POMPEY*  was  a  wise  and  powerful  king.  He 
had  an  only  daughter,  remarkable  for  her 
beauty,  of  whom  he  was  extremely  fond.  He 
committed  her  to  the  custody  of  five  soldiers  ; 
and  charged  them,  under  the  heaviest  penal- 
ties, to  preserve. her  from  every  possible  in- 

*  The  fair  Reader  who  has  not  condescended  to  notice  my 
prolegomena  (and  I  hope  the  suspicion  is  not  treasonable !)  may 
require  to  be  informed  that  "  GESTA  ROMANORUM"  supplies  a 
very  inadequate  idea  of  the  contents  of  these  volumes.  The 
Romans  have  little  to  do  in  the  matter,  and  King  Pompey  must 
not  be  confounded  with  Pompey  the  Great,  though  they  are  un,- 
questionably  meant  for  the  same  person.  Such  blunders  are 
perpetual. 

VOL,    I.  B 


2  OF   LOVE. 

jury.     The  soldiers  were  on  guard  night  and 
day  ;  and  before  the  door  of  her  bed-chamber, 
they  suspended  a  burning  lamp,  that  the  ap- 
proach  of    an   intruder   might    be   the   more 
easily  detected.     And,  to  omit  no  means  of 
security,    a     dog,    whose     watchfulness     was 
unremitting,   and  whose  bark  was  clamorous 
and  piercing,  maintained  its  station  near  the 
threshold  of  the  apartment.     From  all  these 
circumstances,   it    would    appear,   that   every 
precaution  had  been   taken  :    but,  unhappily, 
the  lady  panted  for  the  pleasures  of  the  world. 
She  longed  to  mingle  in  the  busy  scenes  of 
life,  and  to  gaze  upon  its  varied  shows.     As 
she   was    one   day  looking   abroad,   a  certain 
duke  passed  by,  who  regarded  her  with  im- 
pure  and   improper   feelings.     Observing  her 
beauty,  and  ascertaining  that  she  was  the  re- 
puted  heir   to   the   throne,   he    became   ena- 
moured ;  and  used  numerous  devices  to  accom- 
plish  his   treacherous  designs.     He  promised 
her    every    species   of    gratification ;    and   at 
length  prevailed  with  her  to  overturn  the  lamp, 
destroy  the  guardian  dog  which  had  protected 
her;    and   elope  with  him,  during  the  night. 


OF   LOVE.  3 

In  the  morning,  however,  enquiries  were  set 
on  foot ;  and  messengers  despatched  in  pursuit 
of  her.  Now  there  was  at  that  time  in  the 
Emperor's  palace,  a  champion  of  remarkable 
prowess,  and  with  whom  the  execution  of  jus- 
tice was  never  dilatory.  When  he  understood 
the  contempt  and  ingratitude  which  the  lady 
had  exhibited  towards  her  parent,  he  armed 
himself,  and  hastened  after  the  fugitives.  A 
battle  speedily  ensued,  in  which  the  champion 
triumphed,  and  decapitated  the  seducer  on  the 
spot.  The  lady  he  conveyed  back  to  the  palace; 
but  being  refused  admittance  to  the  presence  of 
her  father,  thenceforward  she  passed  her  time 
in  bitterly  bewailing  her  misdeeds.  It  hap- 
pened that  a  wise  person  in  the  Emperor's 
court  heard  of  her  repentance.  On  all  occa- 
sions when  his  services  were  required,  he  had 
proved  himself  an  active  mediator  between 
majesty  and  its  offenders;  and  being  now 
moved  with  compassion,  he  reconciled  her  to 
her  indignant  parent,  and  betrothed  her  to  a 
powerful  nobleman.  He  afterwards  made  her 
several  valuable  presents.  In  the  first  place, 
he  presented  a  tunic,  which  extended  to  the 


4  OF   LOVE. 

heel,  composed  of  the  finest  and  richest  woof, 
having  the  following  inscription  : — "  I  have 
raised  thee  up,  be  not  again  cast  down."  From 
the  Emperor  she  received  a  golden  coronet, 
bearing  the  legend,  "  Thy  dignity  is  from  me." 
The  champion,  who  had  conquered  in  her  be- 
half, gave  a  ring,  on  which  was  sculptured,  "  I 
have  loved  thee,  do  thou  return  that  love." 
The  mediator  also  bestowed  a  ring  inscribed  as 
follows,  "  What  have  I  done  ?  How  much  ? 
Why  ?"  Another  ring  was  presented  by  the 
King's  son ;  and  there  was  engraved  upon  it, 
"  Thou  art  noble ;  despise  not  thy  nobility." 
Her  own  brother  bestowed  a  similar  gift,  of 
which  the  motto  ran  thus  : — "  Approach ;  fear 
not — I  am  thy  brother."  Her  husband  like- 
wise added  a  golden  signet,  which  confirmed 
his  wife's  inheritance,  and  bore  this  superscrip- 
tion, "Now  thou  art  espoused,  be  faithful." 

The  penitent  lady  received  these  various  pre- 
sents with  gratitude,  and  kept  them  as  long 
as  she  lived.  She  succeeded  in  regaining  the 
favour  of  those  whose  affections  her  former 
conduct  had  alienated,  and  closed  her  days  in 
peace.  (1) 


OF    LOVE. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  Emperor  is  our  Heavenly 
Father,  who  hath  drawn  away  his  children  from 
the  jaws  of  the  devil  by  the  sufferings  of  his 
blessed  Son.  He  is  the  King  of  kings,  and  Lord 
of  lords.  Deut.  xxxii.  "  Is  he  not  thy  Father 
who  hath  obtained  thee  by  conquest,  made, 
and  established  thee?"  The  only  daughter 
is  the  human  soul,  which  is  delivered  to  five 
soldiers,  that  is,  to  the  five  senses,  to  guard; 
being  armed  by  powers  received  in  baptism. 
These  senses  are,  sight,  hearing,  &c.  which  have 
in  charge  to  preserve  it  from  the  devil,  the 
world,  and  the  flesh.  The  burning  lamp  is  the 
will,  subjected  in  all  things  to  the  control  of 
God,  and  which  in  good  works  should  shine 
out  brilliantly,  dispersing  the  gloom  of  sin. 
The  barking  dog  is  Conscience,  which  has  to 
struggle  against  error ;  but,  alas  !  the  soul,  de- 
sirous of  gazing  upon  the  objects  of  this  world, 
looks  abroad  as  often  as  it  acts  contrary  to  the 
divine  command ;  and  then  is  willingly  seduced 
by  a  duke — that  is,  by  the  Infernal  Ravisher. 

B3 


6  OF   LOVE. 

And  thus,  the  lamp  of  good  works  is  extin- 
guished, and  the  dog  of  conscience  destroyed  : 
and  thus,  the  soul  follows  the  devil  in  the  dark 
night  of  sin.  These  things,  when  our  champion 
had  heard,  namely,  GOD — because,  "there  is 
110  other  that  fights  for  us,  but  only  Thou,  our 
God," — instantly  he  combats  with  that  wicked 
mis-leader  the  devil,  gains  a  victory,  and 
leads  the  soul  to  the  palace  of  the  heavenly 
King.  The  wise  mediator  is  CHRIST;  as  the 
apostle  says,  1  Tim.  ii.  "  There  is  one  media- 
tor between  God  and  man,  the  Man  Christ 
Jesus/"  The  son  of  the  king  is  CHRIST.  So 
the  Psalmist  witnesses — "Thou  art  my  son, 
this  day  have  I  begotten  thee."  Christ  is  also 
our  brother.  Gen.  xxxvii.  "  He  is  our  brother." 
And  he  is  our  spouse,  according  to  that  of 
Hosea  ii.  "  I  will  marry  thee  in  faithfulness." 
Again,  "  Thou  shalt  be  the  spouse  of  my  blood." 
By  him,  we  are  reconciled  to  our  heavenly  Fa- 
ther, and  restored  to  peace.  "  For  he  is  our 
peace,  who  hath  made  both  one."  Ephes.  ii. 
From  him  we  received  the  aforesaid  gifts : 
first,  a  cloak  descending  to  the  ancle — that  is, 
his  most  precious  skin ;  (2)  and  said  to  be  of 


OF   LOVE.  7 

delicate  texture,  because  it  was  woven  with 
stripes,  blood,  bruises,  and  other  various  in- 
stances of  malice.  Of  which  texture,  nothing 
more  is  meant  than  this — "  I  have  raised  thee 
up,"  because  I  have  redeemed  thee;  do  not 
throw  thyself  into  further  evil.  "Go,"  said 
our  Lord,  "  and  sin  no  more/'  This  is  the  vest 
of  Joseph — the  garment  dyed  in  the  blood  of  a 
goat.  Gen.  xxxvii.  That  same  Christ  our  King, 
gave  to  us  an  all  glorious  crown ;  that  is,  when 
he  submitted  to  be  crowned  for  our  sakes. 
And  of  a  truth,  "Thy  dignity  is  from  me" — 
even  from  that  crown.  John  xix.  "  Jesus  went 
forth,  bearing  the  crown  of  thorns/'  Christ  is 
our  champion,  who  gave  us  a  ring — that  is,  the 
hole  in  his  right  hand ;  and  we  ourselves  may 
perceive  how  faithfully  it  is  written — "  I  have 
loved  thee,  do  thou  also  love."  Rev.  i.  "  Christ 
our  mediator  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our 
sins  in  his  blood."  He  gave  us  another  ring, 
which  is  the  puncture  in  his  left  hand,  where 
we  see  written,  "What  have  I  done?  how 
much?  why?" — "  What  have  I  done  ?"  I  have 
despoiled  myself,  receiving  the  form  of  a  ser- 
B  4 


8  OF   LOVE. 

vant.  "How  much?"  I  have  made  God  and 
man.  "Why?"  To  redeem  the  lost.  Con- 
cerning these  three — Zachary  xiii.  "  What  are 
the  wounds  in  the  middle  of  thy  hands  ?  And 
he  answered,  saying,  I  am  wounded  by  these 
men  in  their  house,  who  loved  me."  Christ  is 
our  brother,  and  son  of  the  eternal  King.  He 
gave  us  a  third  ring — to  wit,  the  hole  in  his 
right  foot ;  and  what  can  be  understood  by  it, 
except  "Thou  art  noble,  despise  not  thy  no- 
bility \"  In  like  manner,  Christ  is  our  brother- 
german.  And  he  gave  us  a  fourth  ring,  the 
puncture  in  his  left  foot,  on  which  is  written, 
"Approach;  fear  not — I  am  thy  brother." 
Christ  is  also  our  spouse ;  he  gave  us  a  signet, 
with  which  he  confirmed  our  inheritance : 
that  is,  the  wound  made  in  his  side  by  the 
spear,  on  account  of  the  great  love,  with 
which  he  loved  us.  And  what  can  this  signify 
but  "Thou  art  now  joined  to  me  through 
mercy;  sin  no  more." 

Let  us  study,  my  beloved,  so  to  keep  the 
gifts  of  the  world,  that  we  may  be  able  to  ex- 
claim, as  in  St.  Matthew,  "  Lord,  thou  gavest 


OF   MERCY. 


to  me  five  talents;"  and  thus,  unquestionably, 
we  shall  reign  in  the  bosom  of  bliss.  That  we 
may  be  thought  worthy  the  Father,  Son,  &c. 


TALE    II. 


OF   MERCY. 


THE  Emperor  Titus  made  a  law,  that  whoso- 
ever provided  not  for  his  parents,  should  be 
condemned  to  death.  It  happened  that  there 
were  two  brethren,  descended  from  the  same 
father.  One  of  them  had  a  son  who  discovered 
his  uncle  in  the  greatest  indigence;  and  im- 
mediately, in  compliance  with  the  law,  but  in 
opposition  to  the  will  of  his  father,  adminis- 
tered to  his  wants.  Thereupon  the  father  ex- 
pelled him  from  his  house.  Notwithstanding 
he  still  maintained  his  poor  uncle,  and  sup- 
plied him  with  every  requisite.  By  and  by, 
B  5 


10  OF   MERCY. 

the  uncle  became  rich  and  the  father  indigent. 
Now,  when  the  son  beheld  the  altered  circum- 
stances of  his  parent,  he  liberally  supported 
him  also,  to  the  great  indignation  of  his  uncle, 
who  drove  him  from  his  house,  and  said — 
"  Formerly,  when  I  was  poor,  thou  gavest  me 
support,  in  opposition  to  thy  father;  for 
which,  I  constituted  thee  my  heir,  in  the 
place  of  a  son.  But  an  ungrateful  son  ought 
not  to  obtain  an  inheritance ;  and  rather  than 
such,  we  should  adopt  a  stranger.  Therefore, 
since  thou  hast  been  ungrateful  to  thy  father 
in  maintaining  me  contrary  to  his  command, 
thou  shalt  never  possess  my  inheritance." 
The  son  thus  answered  his  uncle.  "No  one 
can  be  punished  for  executing  what  the  law 
commands  and  compels.  Now  the  law  of  na- 
ture obliges  children  to  assist  their  parents  in 
necessity,  and  especially  to  honour  them : 
therefore,  I  cannot  justly  be  deprived  of  the 
inheritance." 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  two  brothers  are  the  Son  of 
God  and  the  world,  which  both  proceed  from 


OF   MERCY.  11 

one  heavenly  Father.  The  first,  begotten ;  the 
second,  created.  Between  them,  from  the  be- 
ginning, discord  arose,  and  continues  to  this 
day ;  so  that  he  who  is  the  friend  of  the  one, 
is  an  enemy  to  the  other.  According  to  St. 
James  iv.  ' '  Whosoever  would  become  the  friend 
of  this  world,  shall  be  accounted  an  enemy  to 
God."  The  only  son  is  every  Christian,  who  is 
the  progeny  of  Christ,  because  he  is  descended 
from  him  by  faith.  Therefore,  we  should  not 
feed  fat  the  world  with  pride,  avarice,  and 
other  vices,  if  we  would  be  the  children  of 
God.  And  if  our  desires  are  contrary,  too 
surely  we  shall  be  excluded  from  the  family  of 
Christ,  and  lose  our  heavenly  inheritance.  If 
we  maintain  and  cherish  Christ  by  works  of 
love  and  of  piety,  the  world  indeed  will  abhor 
us — but  better  is  it  to  be  at  enmity  with  the 
world  than  forego  an  inheritance  in  Heaven. 


B  6 


12  OF   JUST   JUDGMENT. 


TALE    III. 


OF   JUST   JUDGMENT. 


A  CERTAIN  emperor  decreed,  that  if  any  woman 
were  taken  in  adultery,  she  should  be  cast 
headlong  from  a  very  high  precipice.  It 
chanced  that  a  woman,  convicted  of  the  crime, 
was  immediately  conveyed  to  the  place  of 
punishment,  and  thrown  down.  But  she  re- 
ceived no  injury  in  the  fall.  They,  therefore, 
brought  her  back  to  the  judgment-seat ;  and 
when  the  judge  perceived  that  she  was  un- 
harmed, he  commanded  that  she  should  again 
be  led  to  the  precipice,  and  the  sentence  effec- 
tually executed.  The  woman,  however,  ad- 
dressing the  judge,  said,  "  My  Lord,  if  you 
command  this,  you  will  act  contrary  to  the 
law  which  punishes  not  twice  for  the  same 


OF   JUST   JUDGMENT.  13 

fault.  I  have  already  been  cast  down  as  a 
convicted  adultress,  but  God  miraculously 
preserved  me.  Therefore,  I  ought  not  to  be 
subjected  to  it  again."  The  judge  answered, 
"  Thou  hast  well  said ;  go  in  peace  i"  and  thus 
was  the  woman  saved. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor,  is  GOD,  who 
made  a  law  that  if  any  one  polluted  the  soul 
(which  is  the  spouse  of  Christ)  by  the  com- 
mission of  any  mortal  sin,  he  should  be  pre- 
cipitated from  a  high  mountain — that  is,  from 
Heaven  ;  as  befell  our  first  parent,  Adam. 
But  God,  by  the  sufferings  of  his  Son,  hath 
preserved  us.  When  man  sins,  God  does  not 
instantly  condemn  him,  because  His  mercy  is 
infinite ;  but  "  by  grace  we  are  saved/'  and  not 
cast  headlong  into  hell. 


14  OF   JUSTICE. 


TALE    IV. 


OF   JUSTICE. 


DURING  the  reign  of  Caesar  a  law  was 
enacted,  that  if  a  man  maltreated  a  woman, 
and  overcame  her  by  violence,  it  should  re- 
main with  the  aggrieved  party,  whether  the 
person  so  offending  should  be  put-  to  death, 
or  married  to  her,  without  a  portion.  Now 
it  fell  out  that  a  certain  fellow  violated  two 
women  upon  the  same  night ;  the  one  of  whom 
sought  to  put  him  to  death,  and  the  other  to 
be  married  to  him.  The  violator  was  appre- 
hended and  brought  before  the  judge,  to  answer 
respecting  the  two  women,  according  to  law. 
The  first  woman  insisting  upon  her  right,  de- 
sired his  death ;  while  the  second  claimed  him 
for  her  husband,  and  said  to  the  first,  "  It  is 
true,  the  law  grants  you  your  request,  but  at 
the  same  time,  it  supports  me  in  mine.  But 


OF   JUSTICE.  15 

because  my  demand  is  of  less  importance, 
and  more  charitable,  I  doubt  not  but  that 
sentence  will  be  given  in  my  favor."  Both 
•women  complained,  and  both  required  the 
enforcement  of  the  law.  When  either  side 
had  been  heard,  the  judge  ordered  that  the 
second  woman  should  obtain  her  husband. 
And  so  it  was  done. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor,  who  framed 
the  law,  is  our  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST.  The 
violator,  any  sinner,  who  violates  two  females, 
that  is,  Justice  and  Mercy,  which  are  both  the 
daughters  of  God.  The  violator -is  brought 
before  the  Judge,  when  the  soul  separates 
from  the  body.  The  first  woman,  that  is, 
Justice,  alleges  against  the  sinner  that  by  law 
he  is  subject  to  eternal  death  :  but  the  other, 
that  is,  Divine  Mercy,  alleges  that  by  contri- 
tion and  confession  he  may  be  saved.  There- 
fore let  us  study  to  please  God. 


16  OF   FIDELITY. 


TALE    V. 


OF     FIDELITY, 


THE  subject  of  a  certain  king  fell  into  the 
hands  of  pirates,  and  wrote  to  his  father  for 
ransom.  But  the  father  would  not  redeem 
him;  so  the  youth  wasted  away  in  prison. 
Now  he  who  detained  him  in  chains  had  a 
daughter  of  great  beauty  and  virtue.  She 
was  at  this  time  in  her  twentieth  year,  and 
frequently  visited  the  young  man  with  the 
hope  of  alleviating  his  griefs.  But  he  was 
too  disconsolate  to  hearken.  At  length,  after 
some  time  had  passed  in  this  manner,  believing 
her  prejudiced  in  his  favor,  and  disposed  to 
succour  him,  he  asked  her  to  obtain  his  freedom. 
She  replied,  "  But  how  am  I  to  effect  it  ?  Thy 
father,  thine  own  father  will  not  ransom  thee  : 
on  what  ground  then  should  I,  a  stranger,  at- 
tempt it  ?  And  suppose  that  I  were  induced 
to  do  so,  I  should  incur  the  wrath  of  my  pa- 


OF   FIDELITY.  17 

rent,  because  thine  denies  the  price  of  thy 
redemption.  Nevertheless,  on  one  condition 
thou  shalt  be  liberated."  "  Amiable  creature/' 
returned  he,  "  impose  what  thou  wilt ;  so  that 
it  be  possible,  I  will  accomplish  it."  "  Pro- 
mise, then,"  said  she,  "  to  marry  me,  when- 
ever an  opportunity  may  occur."  "  I  pro- 
mise," said  the  youth  joyfully,  "  and  plight 
thee  an  unbroken  faith."  The  girl  immedi- 
ately commenced  her  operations;  and  during 
her  father's  absence  effected  his  release,  and 
fled  with  him  to  his  own  country.  When  they 
arrived,  the  father  of  the  youth  welcomed 
him,  and  said,  "Sou,  I  am  overjoyed  at  thy 
return ;  but  who  is  the  lady  under  thy  es- 
cort ?  "  He  replied,  "  It  is  the  daughter  of  a 
king,  to  whom  I  am  betrothed,"  The  father 
returned,  "  On  pain  of  losing  thy  inheritance, 
I  charge  thee,  marry  her  not."  "  My  father," 
exclaimed  the  youth,  e<  what  hast  thou  said  ? 
My  obligations  to  her  are  greater  than  they 
are  to  you ;  for  when  imprisoned  and  fettered 
by  my  enemy,  I  implored  you  to  ransom  me ; 
but  this  you  cruelly  denied.  Now  she  not 
only  released  me  from  prison,  bat  from  the 


18  OF   FIDELITY. 

apprehensions  of  death — and,  therefore,  I  am 
resolved  to  marry  her.35  The  father  answer- 
ed, "  Son,  I  tell  thee,  that  thou  canst  not 
confide  in  her,  and  consequently  ought  not  to 
espouse  her.  She  deceived  her  own  father, 
when  she  liberated  thee  from  prison,  secretly 
carrying  off  the  price  of  thy  redemption. 
Therefore,  I  am  of  opinion,  that  thou  canst 
not  confide  in  her,  and  consequently  ought 
not  to  espouse  her.  Besides,  there  is 
another  reason.  It  is  true,  she  liberated  thee, 
but  it  was  for  the  gratification  of  her  passions, 
and  in  order  to  oblige  thee  to  marry  her. 
And,  since  an  unworthy  passion  was  the 
source  of  thy  liberty,  I  think,  that  she  ought 
not  to  be  thy  wife-."  When  the  lady  heard 
such  reasons  assigned,  she  answered,  "  To 
your  first  objection,  that  I  deceived  my  own 
parent,  I  reply,  that  it  is  not  true.  He  de- 
ceives who  takes  away  or  diminishes  a  cer. 
tain  good.  But  my  father  is  so  rich  that  he 
needs  not  any  addition.  When,  therefore,  I 
had  maturely  weighed  this  matter,  I  procured 
the  young  man's  freedom.  And  if  my  father 
had  received  a  ransom  for  him,  he  had  been 


OF   FIDELITY.  19 

but  little  richer ;  and  therefore  cannot  be  much 
impoverished  by  the  want  of  it.  Now,  in  act- 
ing thus,  I  have  served  you,  who  refused  the 
ransom,  and  have  done  no  injury  to  my  pa- 
rent. As  for  your  last  objection,  that  an  un- 
worthy passion  urged  me  to  do  this,  I  assert 
that  it  is  false.  Feelings  of  such  a  nature 
arise  either  from  great  personal  beauty  or 
from  wealth,  or  honours ;  or  finally,  from  a  ro- 
bust appearance.  None  of  which  qualities 
your  son  possessed.  For  imprisonment  had 
destroyed  his  beauty;  and  he  had  not  suffi- 
cient wealth  even  to  effect  his  liberation; 
while  much  anxiety  had  worn  away  his 
strength,  and  left  him  emaciated  and  sickly. 
Therefore,  compassion  rather  persuaded  me  to 
free  him."  When  the  father  had  heard  this,- 
he  could  object  nothing  more.  So  his  son 
married  the  lady  with  very  great  pomp,  and 
closed  his  life  in  peace.  (3) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  son  captured  by  pirates,  is 
the  whole  human  race,  led  by  the  sin  of  our 
first  parent  into  the  prison  of  the  devil — that 


20  OF    FIDELITY. 

is,  into  his  power.     The  father  who  would  not 
redeem  him,  is  the  world,  which  aids  not  man's 
escape  from  the  evil  one,  but  rather  loves  to 
retain  him   in   thraldom.     The  daughter  who 
visited  him  in  prison,  is  the  Divinity  of  Christ 
united  to  the  soul ;  who  sympathised  with  the 
human   species — and   who,    after   his   passion, 
descended  into   hell   and  freed  us   from   the 
chains  of  the  devil.     But  the  celestial  Father 
has  no  occasion  for  wealth,  because  he  is  in- 
finitely  rich    and    good.      Therefore    Christ, 
moved    with    compassion,    came   down    from 
Heaven  to  visit  us,  and  took  upon  himself  our 
form,  and  required  no  more  than  to  be  united 
in  the  closest  bonds  with  man.     So  Hosea  ii. 
"  I  will  marry  her  to  me  in  faithfulness."    But 
our  father,  the  world,  whom  many  obey,  ever 
murmurs    and    objects    to    this.       "  If    thou 
unitest  thyself  to  God,  thou  shalt  lose  my  in- 
heritance"— that   is,   the   inheritance   of    this 
world ;    because,   it   is    "  impossible    to   serve 
God   and    mammon."      Matt.    vi. — "He   who 
shall   leave    father,    or    mother,    or    wife,    or 
country,    for    my   sake,   he   shall   receive    an 
hundred   fold    and    possess   everlasting   life." 


OF   FOLLOWING   REASON.  21 

Which  may  Jesus  Christ,,  the  son  of  the  living 
God,  vouchsafe  to  bestow  upon  us ;  who  with 
the  Father,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  liveth  and 
reigneth  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen. 


TALE    VI. 


OF   FOLLOWING   REASON. 


A  CERTAIN  emperor,  no  less  tyrannical  than 
powerful,  espoused  a  very  beautiful  girl,  the 
daughter  of  a  king.  After  the  ceremony  was 
concluded,  each  solemnly  vowed  that  the 
death  of  the  one  should  be  followed  by  the 
voluntary  destruction  of  the  other.  It  hap- 
pened not  many  days  after,  that  the  emperor 
went  into  a  far  country,  and  continued  there 
a  long  time.  Being  desirous  of  proving  the 
fidelity  of  his  wife,  he  directed  a  messenger  to 
inform  her  that  he  was  dead.  When  this  in- 


22  OF   FOLLOWING   REASON. 

telligence  was  communicated,  she  remem- 
bered the  oath  which  had  been  administered, 
and  precipitated  herself  from  a  lofty  mountain, 
with  an  intention  to  die.  But  she  received 
little  injury,  and  in  a  short  space  was  re- 
stored to  health.  Her  father  understanding 
this,  forbade  obedience  to  the  mandate  and 
oath  prescribed  by  her  husband.  Still,  as 
she  seemed  anxious  to  comply  with  them,  the 
father  said,  "If  you  refuse  assent  to  my  re- 
quest, quit  the  palace  with  all  haste."  But 
she  replied,  "I  will  not  do  that;  and  I  will 
prove,  by  good  reasons,  my  right  to  remain. 
When  an  oath  is  sworn,  ought  it  not  to  be 
faithfully  maintained?  I  have  sworn  to  my 
husband,  that  I  would  destroy  myself,  if  I 
survived  him :  therefore,  it  is  no  delinquency 
to  fulfil  my  vow,  and  I  ought  not  to  be  driven 
from  your  palace.  Moreover,  no  one  should 
be  punished  for  that  which  is  commendable. 
Now,  since  man  and  woman  are  one  flesh,  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  God,  it  is  commendable 
for  a  wife  to  perish  with  her  husband.  On 
which  account,  there  was  a  law  in  India,  that 
a  wife  after  the  decease  of  her  lord,  should 


OF   FOLLOWING   REASON.  23 

burn  herself  as  evidence  of  her  grief  and  love ; 
or  else  be  deposited  alive,  in  his  sepulchre. 
And  therefore  I  think  that  it  is  no  error  to 
kill  myself  for  the  love  of  my  husband."  The 
father  answered,  "When  you  said  that  you 
were  bound  by  an  oath,  you  should  have  re- 
membered that  such  an  obligation  is  not  bind- 
ing, because  its  end  is  deprivation  of  life. 
An  oath  should  always  be  consistent  with  rea- 
son; and  therefore  your's  being  unreasonable 
is  of  no  force.  As  for  the  other  argument, 
that  it  is  praiseworthy  in  a  wife  to  die  with 
her  husband,  it  avails  you  not.  For  although 
they  are  one  in  the  body,  united  by  carnal  af- 
fections, yet  they  are  two  persons  in  soul, 
and  are  really  and  substantially  different. 
Therefore,  neither  does  this  afford  any  re- 
source/' When  the  lady  heard  these  words, 
she  could  argue  no  farther,  but  complied  with 
the  request  of  her  parent.  She  refrained  from 
soliciting  destruction;  but  though  apprized 
of  her  husband's  existence  soon  after,  she 
neither  returned  to,  nor  forgave  him. 


24  OF   FOLLOWING   KEASON. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  the  devil.  The 
girl  is  the  soul  created  in  the  likeness  of  God, 
but  by  sin  espoused  to  the  evil  one.  Where- 
fore, in  the  commission  of  sin,  there  is  a  cove- 
nant established,  namely,  that  if  a  man  die  in 
sin  and  in  remote  parts — that  is,  in  hell,  it  is 
previously  agreed  upon  by  his  own  pride,  that 
the  sinning  soul  should  cast  itself  from  a  high 
mountain — that  is,  from  heaven  down  to  hell : 
and  thus  it  was,  before  the  advent  of  our  Sa- 
viour. But  He,  by  his  passion,  reinstated  it 
in  health.  Notwithstanding,  the  soul  still 
desires  to  precipitate  itself,  as  often  as  it  acts 
against  the  divine  command.  But  God,  who 
is  our  Father,  would  not  willingly  that  we 
should  fall,  but  had  rather,  by  contrition  and 
confession,  receive  us  wholly  to  Himself,  and 
bind  us  so  firmly  to  Him,  that  with  Him  we 
might  enjoy  everlasting  life. 


OF  THE  ENVY  OF  BAD  MEN/  &C.   25 

TALE  VII. 


OF  THE  ENVY  OF  BAD  MEN  TOWARDS 
THE  GOOD. 


WHEN  Diocletian  was  emperor,  there  was 
a  certain  noble  soldier  who  had  two  sons, 
whom  he  entirely  and  truly  loved.  The 
younger  of  them  married  a  harlot,  without  the 
knowledge  of  his  father,  and  the  infamy  o£ 
this  proceeding  overwhelmed  him  with  the 
greatest  grief.  He  sternly  banished  him  from 
his  presence,  and  left  him  to  the  rebukes  of 
conscience,  and  to  the  agonies  of  approaching 
want.  Nevertheless,  his  family  increased; 
and  a  beautiful  but  sickly  child  added  to  their 
necessity  and  despair.  In  this  situation  he 
despatched  a  messenger  to  his  parent,  to 
supplicate  relief;  and  when  his  wretchedness 
was  made  known,  it  moved  him  to  compas- 
sion, and  he  forgave  him  all.  After  their  re- 
c 


26      OF   THE   ENVY   OF   BAD   MEN,    &C. 

conciliation,  the  son  entrusted  to  his  father's 
protection  the  child  that  the  harlot  bore  him, 
and  it  was  taken  to  his  house  and  educated  as 
his  own.  But  when  the  elder  brother  heard 
what  had  happened,  he  was  exceedingly  wroth, 
and  said  to  his  father,  "  Thou  art  mad,  and  I 
will  prove  it  by  satisfactory  reasons.  He  is  mad 
who  fosters  and  adopts  a  son  by  whom  he  has 
been  grievously  wronged.  Now  my  brother, 
whose  son  that  child  is,  did  you  great  injury 
when  he  espoused  a  harlot  contrary  to  your 
will.  Therefore,  I  am  persuaded  that  you  are 
mad — for  you  both  protect  the  child,  and  are 
at  peace  with  him."  Here  the  father  answer- 
ed, "  Son,  I  am  reconciled  to  thy  brother,  in 
consequence  of  his  own  contrition,  and  the 
urgent  entreaties  of  his  friends.  Therefore,  it 
becomes  me  to  love  my  recovered  son  more 
than  you;  because,  you  have  often  offended 
me,  but  never  sought  a  reconciliation :  and 
since  you  have  not  humbly  acknowledged 
your  transgressions,  you  are  more  ungrateful 
than  your  brother  has  been,  whom  you  would 
have  me  banish  from  my  house.  You  ought 
rather  to  rejoice  that  he  is  reconciled  to  me. 


OF   THE   ENVY   OF   BAD   MEN,    &C.       27 

But  because  you  have  exhibited  so  much  in- 
gratitude, you  shall  not  receive  the  inheri- 
tance designed  for  you.  It  shall  be  given  to 
your  brother." — And  so  it  was  done.  (5) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  by  this  father,  we  are  to  un- 
derstand our  heavenly  Father :  by  the  two  sons, 
the  angelic  and  human  nature.  The  human 
nature  was  united  with  a  harlot, — that  is,  with 
humanity,  when  it  ate  the  fatal  apple,  contrary 
to  the  Divine  injunction.  Wherefore,  it  was 
banished  by  the  heavenly  Father.  The  son  of 
the  harlot,  is  mankind,  which  had  perished  in 
its  perverseness,  but  for  the  paternal  regard. 
And  it  is  described  as  sickly,  because  being 
the  fruit  of  sin,  it  is  placed  in  a  valley  of  tears. 
As  in  Gen.  iii. — "By  the  sweat  of  thy  brow 
shalt  thou  eat  bread/"  But  he,  by  the  passion 
of  Christ  is  reconciled  to  God  the  Father,  and 
fully  established  by  the  good  offices  and 
prayers  of  holy  men,  who  daily  pour  forth 
their  petitions  to  heaven,  for  all  the  world. 
So  the  Psalmist,  "They  ask  that  which  they 
c2 


28  OF   FALSE   ALLEGATIONS. 

desire."  But  the  other  brother,  namely,  the 
devil  (who  is  the  father  of  ingratitude)  conti- 
nually attacks  us,  and  murmurs  at  our  recon- 
ciliation ;  alleging  that  we  ought  not  to  obtain 
our  heavenly  inheritance  because  of  original 
sin.  But  doubtless  if  we  live  a  holy  and  pure 
life  in  this  world,  his  allegation  will  nothing 
avail;  nay,  we  shall  obtain  his  portion — that 
is,  the  place  which  he  has  lost  in  heaven. 


TALE    VIII. 
_ 

OF   FALSE   ALLEGATIONS. 


WHEN  the  emperor  Leo  reigned,  his  chief 
pleasure  consisted  in  a  beautiful  face.  Where- 
fore, he  caused  three  female  images  to  be 
made,  to  which  he  dedicated  a  stately  temple, 
and  commanded  all  his  subjects  to  worship 
them.  The  first  image  stretched  out  its  hand 


OF   FALSE   ALLEGATIONS.  29 

over  the  people,  and  upon  one  of  its  fingers 
was  placed  a  golden  ring  bearing  the  following 
device  :   "  My  finger  is  generous"     The  second 
image  had  a  golden  beard,  and  on  its  brow  was 
written,  "  I  have  a  beard ;  if  any  one  be  beard- 
lesSj  let  him   come   to  me,   and  I  will  give  him 
one"     The   third  image  had   a   golden  cloak, 
and  purple  tunic,   and  on  its  breast  appeared 
these  words,  in  large    golden   characters,  "  I 
fear  no  one."     These  three  images  were  fabri- 
cated of  stone.      Now   when    they   had   been 
erected  according  to  the  command  of  the  Em- 
peror,  he   ordained   that  whosoever  conveyed 
away   either    the   ring,    or    golden   beard,    or 
cloak,    should   be   doomed   to   the    most   dis- 
graceful death.     It  so  chanced  that  a  certain 
fellow  entering  the  temple,  perceived  the  ring 
upon  the  finger  of  the  first  image,  which  he 
immediately  drew  off.     He  then  went  to  the 
second,    and    took    away   the    golden    beard. 
Last  of  all,  he  came  to  the  third  image,  and 
when  he  had  removed  the  cloak,  he  departed 
from   the   temple.     The   people,    seeing    their 
images  despoiled,  presently  communicated  the 
robbery  to  the  Emperor.    The  transgressor  was 
c3 


30  OF   FALSE   ALLEGATIONS. 

summoned  before  him,  and  charged  with  pil- 
fering from  the  images,  contrary  to  the  edict. 
But  he  replied,  "  My  Lord,  suffer  me  to  speak. 
When  I  entered  the  temple,  the  first  image 
extended  towards  me  its  finger  with  the  golden 
ring — as  if  it  had  said,  '  Here,  take  the  ring/ 
Yet,  not  merely  because  the  finger  was  held 
forth  to  me,  would  I  have  received  it ;  but,  by 
and  by,  I  read  the  superscription,  which 
said,  'My  finger  is  generous, — take  the  ring/ 
Whereby  understanding  that  it  was  the  sta- 
tue's pleasure  to  bestow  it  upon  me,  good  man- 
ners obliged  me  not  to  refuse  it.  Afterwards, 
I  approached  the  second  image  with  the  gol- 
den beard;  and  I  communed  with  my  own 
heart,  and  said,  'The  author  of  this  statue 
never  had  such  a  beard,  for  I  have  seen 
him  repeatedly;  and  the  creature  ought, 
beyond  question,  to  be  inferior  to  the  Cre- 
ator. Therefore  it  is  fitting  and  necessary  to 
take  away  the  beard.'  But  although  she 
offered  not  the  smallest  opposition,  yet  I  was 
unwilling  to  carry  it  off,  until  I  distinctly 
perceived,  '  I  have  a  beard ;  if  any  one  be 
beardless,  let  him  come  to  me,  and  I  will 
give  him  one.'  I  am  beardless,  as  your  Ma- 


I 


OF   FALSE   ALLEGATIONS.  31 

jesty  may  see,  and  therefore,  for  two  especial 
reasons,  took  away  the  beard.  The  first  was, 
that  she  should  look  more  like  her  author, 
and  not  grow  too  proud  of  her  golden  beard. 
Secondly,  that  by  these  means,  I  might  pro- 
tect my  own  bald  pate.  Again,  I  came  to 
the  third  image,  which  bore  a  golden  cloak. 
I  took  away  the  cloak,  because,  being  of 
metal,  in  the  winter  time,  it  is  extremely 
cold;  and  the  image  itself  is  made  of  stone, 
Now  stone  is  naturally  cold;  and  if  it  had 
retained  the  golden  cloak  it  would  have  been 
adding  cold  to  cold,  which  were  a  bad  thing 
for  the  image.  Also,  if  it  had  possessed  this 
cloak  in  summer,  it  would  have  proved  too 
heavy  and  warm  for  the  season.  However,  I 
should  not  have  borne  it  away  even  for  these 
causes  if  there  had  not  been  written  upon 
the  breast,  '  I  fear  nobody/  For  I  discovered 
in  that  vaunt,  such  intolerable  arrogance, 
that  I  took  away  the  cloak,  merely  to  hum- 
ble it."  "Fair  Sir/'  replied  the  Emperor, 
"does  not  the  law  say  expressly  that  the 
images  shall  not  be  robbed,  nor  the  orna- 
ments upon  them  molested  on  any  pretence? 


32  OF   FALSE   ALLEGATIONS. 

You  have  impudently  taken  away  that  which 
did  not  belong  to  you,  and  therefore,  I  deter- 
mine that  you  be  instantly  suspended  on  a 
gallows."  And  so  it  was  done.  (6) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  that  Emperor  is  our  Lord  Je- 
sus Christ.  The  three  images  are  three  sorts 
of  men,  in  whom  God  takes  pleasure — as  it 
is  written,  "thy  delight  is  in  the  sons  of 
men."  If  we  live  piously  and  uprightly,  God 
will  remain  with  us.  By  the  first  image  with 
extended  hand,  we  may  conceive  the  poor  and 
the  simple  of  this  world;  who,  if  they  have 
business  in  the  halls  of  princes  and  noblemen, 
will  prevail  but  little  unless  the  hand  is 
put  forth  to  present  a  gift.  Gifts  blind  the 
eyes  of  a  judge.  But  if  it  should  be  asked  of 
such  a  one,  or  of  his  servants,  "  Why  fleecest 
thou  the  poor?"  it  is  instantly  replied,  "Can 
I  not  receive  with  a  good  conscience,  what  is 
voluntarily  presented?  If  I  took  not  the 
offering,  people  would  say  I  was  besotted; 


OF  FALSE   ALLEGATIONS.  33 

and  therefore,  to  curb  their  tongues  I  take  it." 
By  the  second  image  we  are  to  understand  the 
rich  of  the  world,  who,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
are  exalted  to  great  wealth.  So  the  Psalmist : 
"  Thou  raisest  the  poor  out  of  the  mire,  and 
they  are  accused  before  their  rivals."  Some 
wretched  man  hath  a  golden  beard — that  is* 
great  riches,  which  he  inherited  from  his  fa- 
ther; and  straightway  we  oppress  him,  either 
with  a  legal  pretext  or  without.  A  just  man 
is  overborne  and  robbed ;  for  they  say,  "  We 
are  bald " — that  is,  we  are  poor ;  and  it  is 
fitting  that  he  divide  his  riches  with  us  :  nay, 
he  is  often  murdered  for  his  property.  "  Co- 
vetousness,"  says  St.  Paul  to  Timothy,  "  is 
the  root  of  all  evil."  By  the  third  image  with 
the  golden  cloak,  we  are  to  understand  men 
raised  to  great  dignities.  Such  are  the  pre- 
lates and  princes  of  the  earth,  who  are  ap- 
pointed to  preserve  the  law,  to  cultivate  virtue, 
and  to  root  out  vice.  Wherefore,  evil-doers, 
who  refuse  to  submit  to  necessary  discipline, 
lift  themselves  up,  and  conspire  against  their 
ecclesiastical  governors  and  superiors,  saying, 
"We  will  not  have  him  to  reign  over  us/' 
c  5 


34  OF   DEPKAVITY. 

St.  Luke.  The  Jews  seeing  Christ  performing 
miracles,  and  proving  that  they  had  sinned 
against  the  law,  immediately  contrive  his 
death.  But  these  conspirators,  and  the  like 
to  them,  shall  die  the  death.  Therefore,  let 
us  diligently  study  to  correct  what  is  amiss  in 
this  life  present,  that  we  may,  &c. 


TALE    IX. 


OF   DEPKAVITY  CONQUERED  BY  MILDNESS. 

ALEXANDER  was  a  renowned  and  prudent 
Emperor.  He  married  the  daughter  of  the 
King  of  Syria,  and  had  by  her  a  beautiful 
son.  The  boy  grew,  but  coming  to  man's 
estate,  he  conspired  against  his  father,  and 
continually  sought  his  death.  This  conduct 
surprised  the  Emperor,  and  conversing  with 
the  Empress,  he  said,  "  Fair  wife,  tell  me,  I 


OF   DEPRAVITY.  35 

pray  thee,  without  reserve,  hast  thou  ever 
forsaken  me  for  another  ?  " — "  My  Lord/'  an- 
swered his  wife,  "what  is  the  purport  of 
your  question  ?" — "  Your  son,"  said  he,  "  seeks 
my  life.  It  amazes  me ;  and  if  he  were  mine 
he  could  not  do  it." — "  Heaven  can  witness," 
returned  the  Lady,  "  that  I  am  innocent.  He 
is  truly  your  son,  but  to  what  end  he  pursues 
your  destruction,  I  cannot  surmise."  The 
Emperor,  satisfied  on  this  point,  spoke  to  his 
son,  with  the  utmost  mildness.  "  My  dear 
son,"  said  he,  "  I  am  your  father ;  by  my 
means  you  came  into  the  world,  and  will  suc- 
ceed me  on  the  throne.  Why  then  do  you 
desire  my  death  ?  I  have  ever  loved  and  cared 
for  you,  and  my  possessions  are  not  less  your's 
than  mine.  Cease,  I  conjure  you,  from  such 
an  iniquitous  pursuit;  and,  in  return  for  hav- 
ing given  you  life,  curtail  not  the  few  brief 
hours  that  are  assigned  me."  Nevertheless 
thej  son  disregarded  his  father's  entreaties, 
and  every  succeeding  day  discovered  fresh 
proofs  of  a  hard  and  depraved  heart ;  some- 
times endeavouring  to  slay  him  in  public,  and 
sometimes  resorting  to  secret  assassination. 
06 


36  OF   DEPRAVITY. 

When  the  father  became  aware  of  this,  he  re- 
tired into  a  very  secluded  apartment,  and  took 
with  him  his  son.  Presenting  a  naked  sword, 
he  said,  "Take  this  weapon,  and  now  hesitate 
not  to  put  a  speedy  end  to  the  existence  of 
thy  parent ;  for  it  will  be  esteemed  less 
shameful  to  be  slain  by  my  own  son,  quietly 
and  in  secret,  than  to  be  exposed  to  the  up- 
roar and  observation  of  the  people."  The  son, 
struck  with  the  enormity  of  what  he  purposed, 
cast  aside  the  extended  sword,  and  falling 
upon  his  knees,  wept  aloud.  "  Oh !  my  fa- 
ther," said  he,  "  I  have  done  thee  wrong — 
open  and  notorious  wrong,  and  am  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  thy  son.  Yet  forgive  me, 
clearest  father,  and  once  again  restore  me  to 
thy  forfeited  love.  From  henceforth  I  will 
be  indeed  thy  son,  and  in  all  things  execute 
thy  pleasure."  When  the  overjoyed  parent 
heard  this,  he  fell  upon  his  neck,  and  kissed 
him.  "  Oh !  my  beloved  son,  be  faithful  and 
affectionate,  and  thou  shalt  find  a  fond  and 
indulgent  father."  He  then  clothed  him  in 
gorgeous  apparel,  and  brought  him  to  the 
banqueting-chamber,  where  he  was  sumptu- 


OF   DEPRAVITY.  37 

ously  feasted  with  all  the  nobles  of  his  empire. 
The  Emperor  lived  a  short  time  after  this,  and 
finished  his  career  in  peace. 


APPLICATION". 

My  beloved,  the  Emperor  is  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God.  He  who  seeks  the 
life  of  his  father  is  any  bad  Christian  who  is 
made  a  legitimate  child  of  God  by  the  virtues 
of  baptism.  The  mother  of  the  boy  is  the 
Holy  Church,  through  which  our  baptismal 
vows  are  received ;  and  through  which  also  the 
perverse  sinner,  removed  from  God  by  mani- 
fold offences,  seeks  the  death  of  Christ,  who  is 
Himself  the  Father,  as  appears  from  Deut.  xxxii. 
"  Is  he  not  thy  father,  &c.  Therefore,  the 
Christian  attempts  to  destroy  Christ,  as  often 
as  he  departs  from  the  law  of  God.  Again, 
Christ  withdraws  into  the  innermost  sanctuary, 
and  there,  not  only  offers  His  breast  to  the 
drawn  sword — but  has  actually  died  for  our 
sins.  Wherefore,  remembering  His  love,  and 
the  sources  of  our  own  security,  we  ought  to 


38  OF  DEPRAVITY. 

resist  sin,  and  serve  Him  faithfully.  The  father 
delivered  to  his  son  the  instrument  of  death  : 
so  God  gives  to  you  a  sword — that  is,  free 
will,  either  to  receive  His  grace  and  love,  or  to 
reject  them.  Do  thou,  therefore,  act  as  the  son 
did  :  cast  from  thee  the  sword  of  iniquity  and 
malice.  We  read  in  the  Gospel,  "The  son 
went  away  into  a  far  country."  So  when  the 
sinner  loves  his  carnal  delights  he  wanders 
from  the  Lord.  And  in  proportion  that  sin 
renders  him  unlike  to  God,  in  the  same  pro- 
portion he  removes  from  Him.  His  substance 
is  consumed,  while  life  and  thought  are  clog- 
ged and  degraded  by  base  actions.  Thus,  as 
it  is  said  of  the  son  in  the  Gospel,  "  He  began 
to  want;  and  joining  himself  to  a  citizen  of 
that  country,  he  was  placed  on  a  farm  to  feed 
swine;"  &c.  The  son  begins  to  want,  when 
his  virtuous  feelings  are  overwhelmed  in  sin ; 
for,  as  the  Psalmist  says,  ' '  The  rich  want,  and 
are  hungry."  He  joined  himself  to  a  citizen — 
namely,  to  the  devil;  because  devils  are  citi- 
zens and  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world. 
According  to  the  remark  of  the  Apostle,  "  We 
do  not  struggle  against  flesh  and  blood,"  &c. 


OF  DEPRAVITY.  39 

Swine  are  unclean  animals,  because  they  de- 
light in  filth,  and  therefore  the  devils  may  be 
compared  to  them,  who  are  saturated  with  the 
filth  of  sin,  proceeding  from  themselves.  Re- 
fuse is  the  proper  food  of  sin ;  thus,  fornica- 
tion, drunkenness,  and  gluttony,  are  the  food 
of  devils.  The  sinner  seeks  to  fill  his  belly 
with  such  refuse,  because  no  one  supplies  him 
with  food  enough,  and  because  voluptuousness 
is  always  hungry.  The  devil  often  denies  man 
the  power  of  gratifying  his  appetite,  knowing 
that  the  cup  of  his  iniquity  is  full,  and  that  he 
is  dead  in  sin.  Nevertheless,  the  Lord,  by  his 
grace,  enables  him  to  throw  away  the  sword  of 
vice ;  and  the  sinner  then  exclaims — "  Pity 
me,  O  God,  while  thou  correctest :  I  acknow- 
ledge my  transgressions."  The  Almighty 
Being  compassionates  his  distress,  and,  as  it 
were,  falls  upon  his  neck,  and  kisses  him. 
"  Bring  forth,"  he  says,  "  the  most  sumptuous 
apparel,  and  clothe  him ;  put  a  ring  upon  his 
finger,  and  shoes  upon  his  feet.  Slay  likewise 
the  fatted  calf,  that  we  may  eat — for  my  son, 
which  was  dead,  is  alive  again ;  he  was  lost 
and  is  found."  Thus  our  heavenly  Father, 


40  OF   DEPRAVITY. 

when  the  repentant  sinner  stands  awe-struck 
before  him,  falls  upon  his  neck,  kisses  him, 
and  comforts  him  with  many  words.  As  it  is 
written — "  He  shall  kiss  me  with  the  kiss  of 
his  lip."  The  splendid  vesture  is  put  upon  him, 
when,  as  a  true  penitent,  he  entertains  the  love 
of  Christ.  The  ring  on  his  finger  denotes  the 
seal  of  Christ's  similitude,  manifested  in  good 
works.  He,  therefore,  bears  the  ring,  whose 
actions  resemble  our  Lord's  "  labours  of  love/' 
The  shoes  on  the  feet  are  the  living  examples 
of  departed  saints.  For  as  shoes  defend  the 
feet,  so  do  the  examples  of  holy  men  secure 
the  soul.  The  fatted  calf  is  Christ,  sacrificed 
for  our  sakes  upon  the  altar  of  the  cross  ;  and 
fatted,  because  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Let  then  the  city  of  thy  heart,  waving  over  its 
battlements  the  standard  of  our  blessed  Lord, 
prove  that  it  is  defended  by  his  best  and  bravest 
soldiers.  It  is  said,  that  "  if  we  love  God,  all 
things  may  be  forgiven  " — that  is,  if  we  are  pe- 
nitent, our  errors  will  be  done  away.  If  we 
carry  along  with  us  the  favour  and  fear  of  God, 
we  shall  obtain  everlasting  life ;  to  which,  of 
His  infinite  mercy,  may  he  lead  us. 


OF  THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  THE  SOUL.       41 


TALE  X. 


OF  THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  THE  SOUL. 


THE  Emperor  Vespasian  lived  a  long  time 
without  children ;  but  at  last,  by  the  counsel 
of  certain  wise  men,  he  espoused  a  beautiful 
girl,  brought  to  him  from  a  distant  country. 
He  afterwards  travelled  with  her  into  foreign 
lands,  and  there  became  father  of  a  son.  In 
the  course  of  time,  he  wished  to  revisit  his  own 
kingdom ;  but  his  wife  obstinately  refused  to 
comply,  and  said,  "  If  you  leave  me,  I  will 
kill  myself."  The  Emperor,  therefore,  in  this 
dilemma,  constructed  two  rings  ;  and  upon  the 
jewels  with  which  they  were  richly  ornamented 
he  sculptured  images  possessing  very  sicgular 
virtues.  One  bore  an  effigy  of  memory;  and 
the  other  an  effigy  of  oblivion.  They  were 
placed  upon  the  apex  of  each  ring ;  and  that 
which  represented  oblivion  he  bestowed  upon 


42      OF  THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  THE  SOUL. 

his  wife.  The  other  he  retained  himself;  and 
as  their  love  had  been,  such  was  the  power  of 
the  rings.  The  wife  presently  forgot  her  hus- 
band, and  the  husband  cared  but  little  for  the 
memory  of  his  wife.  Seeing,  therefore,  that 
his  object  was  achieved,  he  departed  joyfully 
to  his  own  dominions,  and  never  afterwards  re- 
turned to  the  lady.  So  he  ended  his  days  in 
peace. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  by  the  Emperor  understand  the 
human  soul,  which  ought  to  return  to  its  own 
country — that  is,  to  Heaven,  by  which  path 
alone  it  can  arrive  at  security.  Therefore,  the 
Psalmist  says—"  Save  me,  O  God,"  &c.  The 
wife  is  our  body,  which  holds  the  soul  in  sen- 
sual delights,  which  encumber  and  bar  its  pas- 
sage to  that  eternal  life,  where  the  empire  and 
hope  of  the  soul  is.  And  why  does  it  so  im- 
pede it  ?  Because  the  flesh  rebels  against  the 
spirit,  and  the  spirit  wars  against  the  flesh. 
Do  ye,  therefore,  as  the  Emperor  did ;  make 


OF  THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  THE  SOUL.     43 

two  rings — the  rings  of  memory  and  forgetful- 
ness,  which  are  prayer  and  fasting;  for  both 
are  effective.  In  most  countries,  a  ring  upon 
the  woman's  finger  is  a  token  of  her  marriage  ; 
and  when  a  man  resigns  himself  to  prayer 
and  fasting,  it  is  evidence  of  his  being  the 
bride  of  Christ.  Prayer  is  the  ring  of  memory, 
for  the  Apostle  enjoins  us  to  "  pray  without 
ceasing."  Man,  therefore,  makes  use  of  pe- 
riodical prayer,  that  God  may  remember  his 
desires;  while  angels  themselves  present  and 
aid  the  petition,  as  we  read  in  the  book  of 
Tobit.  Fasting  may  be  called  the  ring  of  ob- 
livion, because  it  withdraws  from  and  forgets 
the  enticements  of  the  flesh,  that  there  may 
be  no  obstruction  in  its  progress  to  God.  Let 
us  then  study  to  preserve  these  rings  and  merit 
everlasting  life. 


44  OF  THE  POISON  OF  SIN 


TALE  XL 


OF  THE  POISON  OF  SIN. 


ALEXANDER  was  a  prince  of  great  power,  and 
a  disciple  of  Aristotle,  who  instructed  him  in 
every  branch  of  polite  learning.  The  Queen 
of  the  North  having  heard  of  his  proficiency, 
nourished  her  daughter  from  the  cradle  upon 
a  certain  kind  of  deadly  poison ;  and  when  she 
grew  up,  she  was  considered  so  beautiful,  that 
the  sight  of  her  alone  affected  many  with  mad- 
ness. The  Queen  sent  her  to  Alexander  to 
espouse.  He  had  no  sooner  beheld  her,  than 
he  became  violently  enamoured,  and  with  much 
eagerness  desired  to  possess  her ;  but  Aristotle, 
observing  his  weakness,  said — "  Do  not  touch 
her,  for  if  you  do  you  will  certainly  perish. 
She  has  been  nurtured  upon  the  most  delete- 
rious food,  which  I  will  prove  to  you  imme- 


OF  THE  POISON  OF  SIN.  45 

diately.  Here  is  a  malefactor,  who  is  already 
condemned  to  death.  He  shall  be  united  to 
her,  and  you  will  soon  see  the  truth  of  what  I 
advance."  Accordingly  the  culprit  was  brought 
without  delay  to  the  girl ;  and  scarcely  had  he 
touched  her  lips,  before  his  whole  frame  was 
impregnated  with  poison,  and  he  expired  in  the 
greatest  agony.  Alexander,  glad  at  his  escape 
from  such  imminent  destruction,  bestowed  all 
thanks  on  his  instructor,  and  returned  the 
girl  to  her  mother.  (7) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  any  good  Christian,  strong  and 
powerful  in  virtues  communicated  at  his  bap- 
tism, may  be  called  Alexander.  He  is  strong 
and  powerful  as  long  as  he  preserves  his  pu- 
rity from  the  contamination  of  the  devil,  the 
world,  and  the  flesh.  The  Queen  of  the  North 
is  a  superfluity  of  the  things  of  life,  which 
sometimes  destroys  the  spirit,  and  generally 
the  body.  The  envenomed  beauty,  is  Luxury 
and  Gluttony,  which  feed  men  with  delicacies, 


46  OF  BAD  EXAMPLE. 

that  are  poison  to  the  soul.  Aristotle  is  thy 
conscience,  or  reason,  which  reproves  and 
opposes  the  union  that  would  undo  the  soul. 
The  malefactor  is  a  perverse  man,  disobedient 
to  his  God,  and  more  diligent  in  pursuing  his 
own  carnal  delights,  than  the  divine  com- 
mands. He  enfolds  his  sins  in  a  close  em- 
brace, by  whose  deadly  touch  he  is  spiritually 
destroyed.  So  the  book  of  Wisdom,  "  He 
who  touches  pitch  shall  be  defiled  by  it." 
Let  us  then  study  to  live  honestly  and  up- 
rightly, in  order  that  we  may  attain  to  ever- 
lasting life. 


TALE    XII. 


OF  BAD  EXAMPLE. 


IN  the  reign  of  Otho  there  was  a  certain  slip- 
pery   priest,   who    created   much   disturbance 


OF  BAD  EXAMPLE.  47 

among  his  parishioners,  and  many  were  ex- 
tremely scandalised.  One  of  them,  in  parti- 
cular, always  absented  himself  from  mass, 
when  it  fell  to  the  priest's  turn  to  celebrate 
it.  Now  it  happened  on  a  festival  day,  during 
the  time  of  mass,  that  as  this  person  was 
walking  alone  through  a  meadow,  a  sudden 
thirst  came  upon  him ;  insomuch,  that  he 
was  persuaded,  unless  present  relief  could  be 
obtained,  he  should  die.  In  this  extremity, 
continuing  his  walk,  he  discovered  a  rivulet  of 
the  purest  water,  of  which  he  copiously 
drank.  But  the  more  he  drank,  the  more 
violent  became  his  thirst.  Surprised  at  so 
unusual  an  occurrence,  he  said  to  himself,  "  I 
will  find  out  the  source  of  this  rivulet,  and 
there  satisfy  my  thirst/'  As  he  proceeded,  an 
old  man  of  majestic  appearance  met  him,  and 
said,  "  My  friend,  where  are  you  going  ?" 
The  other  answered,  "  I  am  oppressed  by  an 
excessive  drought,  surpassing  even  belief.  I 
discovered  a  little  stream  of  water,  and  drank 
of  it  plentifully;  but  the  more  I  drank,  the 
more  I  thirsted.  So  I  am  endeavouring  to 
find  its  source,  that  I  may  drink  there,  and, 
7 


48  OF  BAD  EXAMPLE. 

if  it  be  possible,  deliver  myself  from  the  tor- 
ment." The  old  man  pointed  with  his  finger. 
"  There'"  said  he,  "  is  the  spring-head  of  the 
rivulet.  But  tell  me,  mine  honest  friend, 
why  are  you  not  at  Church,  and  with  other 
good  Christians,  hearing  Mass  ?"  The  man 
answered,  "  Truly,  Master,  our  priest  leads 
such  an  execrable  life,  that  I  think  it  utterly 
impossible  he  should  celebrate  it,  so  as  to 
please  God."  To  which  the  old  man  returned, 
"  Suppose  what  you  say  is  true.  Observe 
this  fountain,  from  which  so  much  excellent 
water  issues,  and  from  which  you  have  lately 
drunk."  He  looked  in  the  direction  pointed 
out,  and  beheld  a  putrid  dog  with  its  mouth 
wide  open,  and  its  teeth  black  and  decayed, 
through  which  the  whole  fountain  gushed  in 
a  surprising  manner.  The  man  regarded  the 
stream  with  great  terror  and  confusion  of 
mind,  ardently  desirous  of  quenching  his 
thirst,  but  apprehensive  of  poison  from  the 
fetid  and  loathsome  carcase,  with  which,  to 
all  appearance,  the  water  was  imbued.  "Be 
not  afraid,"  said  the  old  man,  observing  his 
repugnance :  "  thou  hast  already  drank  of 


OF   BAD   EXAMPLE.  49 

the  rivulet;  drink  again,  it  will  not  harm 
thee."  Encouraged  by  these  assurances,  and 
impelled  by  the  intensity  of  his  thirst,  he 
partook  of  it  once  more,  and  instantly  reco- 
vered from  the  drought.  "  Oh !  master," 
cried  he,  "  never  man  drank  of  such  delicious 
water."  The  old  man  answered,  "  See  now ; 
as  this  water,  gushing  through  the  mouth  of 
a  putrid  dog,  is  neither  polluted,  nor  loses 
aught  of  its  natural  taste  or  colour,  so  is  the 
celebration  of  mass  by  a  worthless  minister. 
And  therefore,  though  the  vices  of  such  men 
may  displease  and  disgust,  yet  should  you 
not  forsake  the  duties  of  which  they  are  the 
appointed  organ/'  Saying  these  words,  the 
old  man  disappeared ;  and  what  the  other 
had  seen  he  communicated  to  his  neighbours, 
and  ever  after  punctually  attended  mass. 
He  brought  this  unstable  and  transitory  life 
to  a  good  end;  and  passed  from  that  which 
is  corruptible  to  inherit  incorruption.  Which 
may  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  Mary, 
grant  to  all.  (8) 


VOL.   I. 


50  OF   BAD   EXAMPLE. 

APPLICATION. 

MY  beloved,  the  Emperor  is  God,  in  whose 
kingdom,  that  is,  in  the  world,  there  is  an  evil 
priest ;  namely,  every  perverse  Christian.  For 
as  the  priest  provides  for  the  spiritual  welfare 
of  his  parishioners,  so  the  Christian  is  required 
to  watch  over  and  preserve  the  spiritual  gifts 
communicated  in  baptism.  The  bad  priest, 
through  the  influence  of  a  bad  example,  causes 
many  to  separate  from  the  community;  and 
therefore,  St.  Gregory  well  says,  that  "  as 
often  as  he  does  an  ill  action,  he  loses  a  soul." 
In  like  manner,  the  bad  Christian  occasions 
the  condemnation  of  multitudes  by  the  attrac- 
tion of  wicked  examples  and  enticing  words. 
If  any  of  you,  to  whom  I  now  speak,  have 
been  so  deluded,  act  like  the  parishioner  in 
our  story.  Walk  across  the  meadows,  that 
is,  through  the  world,  until  you  find  one 
whom  your  soul  esteems  and  loves — to  wit, 
that  old  man,  who  is  Christ,  revealed  by 
actions  of  benevolence  and  mercy.  But,  in  the 
first  place,  drink  of  the  rivulet  although  it 
should  not  immediately  extinguish  your 


OF   BAD    EXAMPLE.  51 

thirst.  That  rivulet  is  baptism,  which  alone 
is  able  to  quench  the  drought  occasioned  by 
original  sin.  Yet  should  the  evil  nature  of 
that  origin  prevail,  and  you  fall  again  into 
error,  then  seek  out  the  fountain,  and  there 
drink.  For  that  fountain  is  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  as  he  witnesses  of  himself.  "  I  am  a 
fountain  of  living  water,  springing  up  into 
eternal  life."  John  iv.  The  streams  or  veins 
of  that  fountain  are  the  words  of  Scripture, 
which  too  frequently  issue  from  the  mouth 
of  a  putrid  dog ;  that  is,  of  an  evil  preacher. 
If  it  should  be  asked,  why  the  spring  of  pure 
water  is  made  to  flow  through  the  rank  jaws 
of  a  dog,  rather  than  through  those  of  any 
other  animal,  it  is  answered,  that  Scripture 
more  usually  compares  it  with  a  priest,  than 
with  anything  else;  and  as  in  a  dog  there 
are  four  excellent  qualities,  described  in  the 
following  couplet. 

"  In  cane  bis  bina  sunt ;  et  lingua  medicina, 
"  Naris  odoratus,  amor  integer,  atque  latratus." 

[In  a  dog  there  are  four  things :  a  medicinal  tongue ;  (9)  a 
distinguishing  nose  ;  an  unshaken  faith,  and  unremitting 
watchfulness.  ] 

D2 


52  OF   BAD   EXAMPLE. 

So  priests,  who  would  be  useful  in  their 
station,  ought  diligently  to  cultivate  these 
four  properties.  First,  that  their  tongue  pos- 
sess the  power  of  a  physician  in  healing  the 
sick  in  heart,  and  probing  the  wounds  of  sin ; 
being  careful,  at  the  same  time,  that  too 
rough  a  treatment  does  not  exacerbate  rather 
than  cure  :  for  it  is  the  nature  of  dogs  to  lick 
the  body's  wounds.  Secondly,  as  a  dog,  by 
keenness  of  scent  distinguishes  a  fox  from  a 
hare,  so  a  priest,  by  the  quickness  of  his  per- 
ception in  auricular  disclosures,  should  dis- 
cover what  portion  of  them  appertains  to  the 
cunning  of  the  fox — that  is,  to  heretical  and 
sophistical  perverseness ;  what  to  internal 
struggles  and  timorous  apprehensions,  arising 
from  the  detestation  of  evil  or  hopelessness 
of  pardon;  and  what  to  the  unbroken  ferocity 
of  the  wolf  or  lion,  originating  in  a  haughty 
contempt  of  consequences ;  with  other  grada- 
tions of  a  like  character.  Thirdly,  as  the  dog 
is  of  all  animals  the  most  faithful,  and  ready 
in  defence  of  his  master  or  his  family,  so 
priests  also,  should  show  themselves  staunch 
advocates  for  the  Catholic  faith;  and  zealous 


OF   BAD   EXAMPLE.  53 

for  the  everlasting  salvation,  not  of  their  pa- 
rishioners alone,  but  of  every  denomination  of 
true  Christians,  according  to  the  words  of 
our  Lord,  John  x.  "  A  good  shepherd  lays 
down  his  life  for  his  sheep. "  Also,  John  i. 
(e  Christ  laid  down  his  life  for  us/'  And  we, 
in  humble  imitation  of  our  divine  Master, 
ought  to  lay  down  our  lives  for  our  brethren, 
Fourthly,  as  a  dog  by  barking  betrays  the 
approach  of  thieves,  and  permits  not  the  pro- 
perty of  his  master  to  be  invaded — so,  the 
faithful  priest  is  the  watch-dog  of  the  great 
King :  one,  who  by  diligence  in  his  calling, 
prevents  the  machinations  of  the  devil  from 
taking  effect;  from  drawing  the  soul  out  of 
that  high  treasury  composed  of  the  precious 
blood  of  Christ ;  and  where  alone  the  amazing 
price  of  our  redemption  is  eternally  repo- 
sited. 


D3 


OF  INORDINATE   LOVE. 


TALE    XIII. 


OF  INORDINATE   LOYE. 


A  CERTAIN  Emperor  was  strongly  attached 
to  a  beautiful  wife.  In  the  first  year  of  their 
marriage,  she  was  delivered  of  a  son,  upon 
whom  she  doated  with  extravagant  fondness. 
When  the  child  had  completed  its  third 
year,  the  king  died;  for  whose  death  great 
lamentation  was  made  through  the  whole 
kingdom.  The  queen  bewailed  him  bitter- 
ly; and  after  his  remains  were  deposited  in 
the  royal  sepulchre,  took  up  her  residence 
in  another  part  of  the  country,  accompanied 
by  her  son.  This  child  became  the  object 
of  an  affection  so  violent,  that  no  considera- 
tion could  induce  her  to  leave  him  ;  and  they 
invariably  occupied  the  same  bed,  even  till 


OF   INORDINATE    LOVE.  55 

the  boy  had  attained  his  eighteenth  year. 
Now  when  the  devil  perceived  the  irregular 
attachment  of  the  mother,  and  the  filial 
return  exhibited  by  the  son,  he  insinuated 
black  and  unnatural  thoughts  into  their 
minds;  and  from  time  to  time  repeating  his 
detestable  solicitations,  finally  overthrew 
them.  The  queen  became  pregnant ;  and  the 
unhappy  son,  filled  with  the  deepest  horror, 
and  writhing  beneath  the  most  intolerable 
agony,  quitted  the  kingdom,  and  never  was 
heard  of  again.  In  due  time,  the  queen  was 
delivered  of  a  lovely  female,  whom  her  eyes 
no  sooner  beheld,  than — (mark,  ye  who  dream 
that  one  dereliction  from  virtue,  may  be  tried 
with  impunity — mark  !)  desperate  at  the  re- 
membrance of  her  fearful  crime,  and  appre- 
hensive of  detection,  she  snatched  up  a  knife 
that  lay  beside  her,  and  plunged  it  into  the 
infant's  breast.  Not  content  with  this  exhi- 
bition of  maternal  inhumanity,  she  cut  it  di- 
rectly across  the  throat,  from  whence  the 
blood  rapidly  gushed  forth,  and  falling  upon 
the  palm  of  her  left  hand,  distinctly  impressed 
four  circular  lines,  which  no  human  power 

D4 


r,0  OF   INORDINATE   LOVE. 

could  erase.  Terrified,  not  less  at  the  singu- 
lar consequence  of  her  guilt,  than  at  the 
guilt  itself,  she  carefully  concealed  this  awful 
and  mysterious  evidence,  and  dedicated  her- 
self for  life  to  the  service  of  the  blessed  Vir- 
gin. Yet  though  penitent  for  what  she  had 
done,  and  regularly  every  fifteenth  morning 
duly  confessed,  she  scrupulously  avoided  any 
disclosure  relating  to  that  horrid  transaction. 
She  distributed  alms  with  the  most  unbounded 
liberality;  and  the  people  experiencing  her 
kindness  and  benevolence,  evinced  towards  her 
the  greatest  respect  and  love. 

It  happened  on  a  certain  night  as  her  con- 
fessor knelt  at  his  devotions,  repeating  five 
times  aloud  the  "  Ave  Maria,"  that  the  blessed 
Virgin  herself  appeared  to  him,  and  said,  "  I 
am  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  have  an  important 
communication  to  make  to  thee."  The  con- 
fessor, full  of  joy,  answered,  "  Oh !  dear 
Lady,  wherein  can  thy  servant  please  thee  ?  " 
She  replied,  "  The  queen  of  this  kingdom 
will  confess  herself  to  you ;  but  there  is  one 
sin  she  has  committed,  which  shame  and  hor- 
ror will  not  permit  her  to  disclose.  On  th( 


OF   INORDINATE    LOVE.  57 

morrow  she  will  come  to  you :  tell  her  from 
me,  that  her  alms  and  her  prayers  have  been 
accepted  by  him  who  delights  in  the  pure 
oblation  of  a  contrite  heart ;  I  command  her 
therefore,  to  confess  that  crime  which  she 
secretly  committed  in  her  chamber — for  alas ! 
she  slew  her  daughter.  I  have  entreated  for  her, 
and  her  sin  is  forgiven,  if  she  will  confess  it. 
But  if  she  yield  no  attention  to  your  words, 
bid  her  lay  aside  the  cover  upon  her  left 
hand ;  and  on  her  palm,  you  will  read  the 
crime  which  she  refuses  to  acknowledge.  If 
she  deny  this  also,  take  it  off  by  force." 
When  she  had  thus  spoken,  the  blessed  Vir- 
gin disappeared.  In  the  morning,  the  queen 
with  great  humility  was  shrieved  of  all  her 
sins — that  one  excepted.  After  she  had  ut- 
tered as  much  as  she  chose,  the  confessor 
said,  "Madam,  and  dear  daughter,  people 
are  very  inquisitive  to  know  for  what  strange 
reason  you  constantly  wear  that  cover  upon 
your  left  hand.  Let  me  see  it,  I  beseech 
you,  that  I  may  ascertain  why  it  is  concealed, 
and  whether  the  concealment  be  pleasing  to 
God."  The  queen  answered,  "Sir,  my  hand 
D  5 


58  OF   INORDINATE   LOVE. 

is  diseased,  and  therefore,  I  cannot  show  it." 
Hearing  this,  the  confessor  caught  hold  of 
her  arm,  and  notwithstanding  her  resistance, 
drew  off  the  cover.  "  Lady/"  said  he,  "  fear 
not ;  the  blessed  Virgin  Mary  loves  you ;  and 
it  is  she  who  hath  commanded  me  to  do  this." 
When  the  hand  was  uncovered,  there  ap- 
peared four  circles  of  blood.  In  the  first 
circle  there  were  four  letters  in  the  form  of  a 
C ;  in  the  second,  four  D's ;  in  the  third,  four 
M's ;  and  in  the  fourth,  four  B/s.  Upon  the 
outward  edge  of  the  circles,  in  the  manner  of 
a  seal,  a  blood-coloured  writing  was  distin- 
guishable, containing  the  legend  beneath. 
First,  of  the  letter  C, — which  was  interpreted, 
"  Casu  cecidisti  came  ctecata,"  [Blinded  by  the 
flesh  thou  hast  fallen.]  The  letter  D,  "  Da>- 
moni dedisti  dona  donata"  [Thou  hast  given  thy- 
self for  certain  gifts  to  the  devil.]  The  letter 
M,  "  Monstrat  manifesto  manus  maculata,"  [The 
stain  upon  thy  hand  discovers  thee.]  The 
letter  R,  "  Recedet  rubigo,  regina  rogata," 
[When  the  queen  is  interrogated  her  disho- 
nour ceases.]  The  lady  beholding  this,  fell 
at  the  confessor's  feet,  and  with  many  tears 


OF   INORDINATE   LOVE.  59 

meekly  related  her  dreadful  offences.  Then 
being  entirely  and  truly  penitent,  she  was  ab- 
solved ;  and  a  very  few  days  afterwards,  slept 
in  the  Lord.  Her  death  was  long  lamented 
by  the  whole  state.  (10) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor,  is  Jesus  Christ, 
who  married  a  beautiful  girl,  that  is,  our  hu- 
man nature,  when  he  became  incarnate.  But 
first  he  was  betrothed  to  her,  when  the  Fa- 
ther, speaking  to  the  Son  and  Holy  Ghost, 
said — "  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,  after 
our  likeness."  Our  Lord  had  a  fair  child, 
that  is  to  say,  the  soul  made  free  from  all 
spot  by  his  Passion,  and  by  virtue  of  bap- 
tism. That  soul  is  slain  in  us  by  sin.  Do 
you  ask  how?  I  will  tell  you.  By  giving 
ourselves  up  to  carnal  delights,  whose  fruit  is 
death.  The  blood  on  the  hand  is  sin,  which 
tenaciously  cleaves  to  us  ;  as  it  is  said,  "  My 
soul  is  ever  in  my  own  hands  " — that  is,  whe- 
ther it  does  well  or  ill,  is  as  openly  apparent, 
as  if  it  were  placed  in  the  hands  for  the  in- 
spection and  sentence  of  the  Supreme  Judge. 
D  6 


60  OF   HONOURING   PARENTS. 

[I  have  omitted  the  greater  part  of  this  moral- 
ization  as  somewhat  too  delicate  in  its  na- 
ture, and  too  complex  in  its  construction. 
A  second  follows  upon  the  same  subject, 
which  I  have  also  omitted,  and  for  the 
same  reason.] 


TALE    XIV. 


OF   HONOURING   PARENTS. 


IN  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Dorotheus  a  de- 
cree was  passed,  that  children  should  support 
their  parents.  There  was,  at  that  time,  in  the 
kingdom,  a  certain  soldier,  who  had  espoused 
a  very  fair  and  virtuous  woman,  by  whom  he 
had  a  son.  It  happened  that  the  soldier 
went  upon  a  journey,  was  made  prisoner,  and 
very  rigidly  confined.  Immediately  he  wrote  to 
his  wife  and  son  for  ransom.  The  intelligence 
communicated  great  uneasiness  to  the  former, 


OF   HONOURING   PARENTS.  61 

who  wept  so  bitterly  that  she  became  blind. 
Whereupon  the  son  said  to  his  mother,  "  I 
will  hasten  to  my  father,  and  release  him  from 
prison."  The  mother  answered,  "  Thou  shalt 
not  go ;  for  thou  art  my  only  son — even  the 
half  of  my  soul*,  and  it  may  happen  to  thee 
as  it  has  done  to  him.  Hadst  thou  rather 
ransom  thy  absent  pare  at  than  protect  her 
who  is  with  thee,  and  presses  thee  to  her  af- 
fectionate arms  ?  Is  not  the  possession  of  one 
thing  better  than  the  expectation  of  two  ? 
(11)  Thou  art  my  son  as  well  as  thy  father's ; 
and  I  am  present,  while  he  is  absent.  I  con- 
clude, therefore,  that  you  ought  by  no  means 
to  forsake  me  though  to  redeem  your  father." 
The  son  very  properly  answered,  "  Although 
I  am  thy  son  yet  he  is  my  father.  He  is 
abroad  and  surrounded  by  the  merciless ;  but 
thou  art  at  home,  protected  and  cherished  by 
loving  friends.  He  is  a  captive,  but  thou  art 
free — blind,  indeed,  but  he  perhaps  sees  not 
the  light  of  heaven,  and  pours  forth  unheeded 
groans  in  the  gloom  of  a  loathsome  dungeon 

*  "  Animae  dimidium  meae."  This  phrase  is  met  with  fre- 
quently in  these  volumes,  and  would  almost  lead  one  to  sus- 
pect that  the  Author  was  acquainted  with  Horace,  where  the 
line  occurs.  See  his  third  Ode. 


62  OF   HONOURING   PARENTS. 

oppressed  with  chains,  with  wounds,  and  mi- 
sery. Therefore,  it  is  my  determination  to  go 
to  him  and  redeem  him."  The  son  did  so; 
and  every  one  applauded  and  honoured  him 
for  the  indefatigable  industry  with  which  he 
achieved  his  father's  liberation. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  Emperor  is  our  heavenly 
Father,  who  imposes  upon  sons  the  duty  of 
maintaining  and  obeying  their  parents.  But 
who  is  our  father  and  mother  ?  Christ  is  our 
father,  as  we  read  in  Deut.  32.  His  affection 
for  us  partakes  more  of  this,  than  of  the  ma- 
ternal character.  You  know  that  when  the 
son  transgresses,  the  father  corrects  him 
somewhat  harshly,  even  with  stripes  and 
blows ;  while  the  doating  mother  soothes  and 
coaxes  her  favourite  into  humour.  Christ 
permits  us  to  be  scourged,  because  of  our 
many  failings ;  on  the  contrary,  our  mother, 
the  world,  promises  us  infinite  pleasures  and 
lascivious  enjoyments.  Christ  forsakes  us, 
and  goes  into  a  far  country,  as  it  is  written  in 
the  Psalms,  "I  am  made  a  stranger  by  my 
brethren."  Christ  is  still  bound  and  in  pri- 


OF   HONOURING  PARENTS.  63 

son ;  not  indeed  by  himself,  but  by  those 
who  are  the  members  of  his  Church;  for  so 
says  the  Apostle  to  the  Hebrews.  "  Whoso- 
ever lives  in  any  mortal  sin  is  cast  into  the 
prison  of  the  devil  •"  but  our  Father  wills  that 
we  labour  for  his  redemption. — Lake  12.  "  Let 
the  dead  bury  their  dead,"  said  our  blessed 
Lord ;  "  but  go  thou,  and  declare  the  king- 
dom of  God," — and  this  is  to  redeem  Christ. 
For  whosoever  powerfully  preaches  the  word 
of  God,  advantages  his  brother,  and  in  him 
redeems  Christ.— Matt.  20.  "That  which 
you  have  done  to  the  least  of  these  my  fol- 
lowers, ye  have  also  done  unto  me."  But 
the  mother,  that  is,  the  world,  will  not  per- 
mit a  man  to  follow  Christ  into  exile  and 
poverty,  but  detains  him  with  diverse  ar- 
guments. "I  cannot,"  she  says,  "endure  a 
life  of  abstinence  and  privation  which  I  must 
necessarily  submit  to,  if  you  repent  and  turn 
after  Christ/'  Thus  it  is  with  whatsoever 
she  proposes  to  man's  acceptance :  but  do 
not  comply  with  her  wishes.  She  is  blind 
indeed,  for  she  exclaims,  "  Let  us  enjoy  the 
good  things  of  life,  and  speedily  use  the  crea- 
ture like  as  in  youth  •/'  but,  my  beloved,  if  you 


64  OF   HONOURING   PARENTS. 

are  good  and  grateful  sons,  thus  answer  your 
worldly  minded  mother.  "  My  father  is  the 
source  of  my  being — that  is,  of  my  soul;  and 
all  things  which  I  possess,  are  his  free  gift." 
Therefore,  I  advise  you  not  to  desire  length  of 
years,  which  may  approach  in  suffering,  po- 
verty, and  blindness  ;  for  then  the  world  will 
flee  you,  how  much  soever  you  cling  to  it. 
No  longer  than  you  can  be  serviceable  will 
you  be  valued*.  Remember  this,  and  study  to 
amend  your  lives  with  all  diligence ;  that  so 
you  may  come  eventually  to  everlasting  life, 
To  which  may  God  lead  us,  who  lives,  &c. 

*  The  sentiment  here  expressed,  implies  a  greater  know- 
ledge of  the  world  than  we  should  have  looked  for  in  an  as- 
cetic ;  but  we  frequently  meet  with  a  shrewd  reflection  when 
least  prepared  for  it — as  the  forest-ranger  finds  the  "  cowslip, 
violet,  and  the  primrose  pale,"  ornamenting  the  wildest  and 
most  sequestered  nooks.  Old  Burton  has  a  passage  so  simi- 
lar, both  in  thought  and  expression,  that  I  cannot  forbear 
affixing  it  at  foot.  "  Our  estate  and  bene  esse  ebbs  and  flows 
with  our  commodity ;  and  as  we  are  endowed  or  enriched,  so 
we  are  beloved  or  esteemed :  it  lasts  no  longer  than  our 
wealth  ;  when  that  is  gone,  and  the  object  removed,  farewell 
friendship  :  as  long  as  bounty,  good  cheer,  and  rewards  were 
to  be  hoped,  friends  enough ;  they  were  tied  to  thee  by  the 
teeth,  and  would  follow  thee  as  crows  do  a  carcase  :  but  when 
thy  goods  are  gone  and  spent,  the  lamp  of  their  love  is  out ; 
and  thou  shall  be  contemned,  scorned,  hated,  injured." — 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy.  Vol.  II.  p.  169. 


OF  ALEXIUS.  65 


TALE    XV. 


OF    THE    LIFE    OF    ALEXIUS,    SON    OF   THE 
SENATOR   EUFEMIAN.* 


IN  the  reign  of  one  of  the  Roman  Emperorsf, 
lived  a  youth,  named  Alexius,  the  son  of  Eu- 
femian,  a  noble  Roman,  at  that  time  the  chief 
ornament  of  the  emperor's  court.  He  was  at- 
tended by  a  band  of  three  thousand  youths, 
girded  with  golden  zones,  and  habited  in  silken 
vestures.  His  expenditure  was  princely.  He 
daily  maintained  three  tables,  to  which  the 
widow  and  the  orphan  were  ever  welcome. 
Their  necessities  were  often  supplied  by  his 
own  person ;  and  at  the  ninth  hour,  in  com- 

*  It  is  proper  to  warn  the  reader  that  this  tale  is  somewhat 
periphrastically  lr  instated. 

t  Before  the  close  of  the  Tale  we  find  it  was  in  the  reign  of 
two. 


66  OF  ALEXIUS. 

pany  with  other  devout  men,  he  sat  down  to 
dinner.  His  wife,  whose  name  was  Abael, 
was  as  religious  and  charitable  as  himself. 
But  there  is  ever  some  bitterness  mixed  up 
with  the  draught  of  human  joy;  and  in  the 
midst  of  so  much  splendour,  the  want  of  a 
successor  was  long  a  source  of  unavailing  af- 
fliction. At  length  their  prayers  were  heard  ; 
Heaven,  in  its  benevolence,  blessed  them  with 
a  son,  who  was  carefully  instructed  in  all  the 
polite  learning  of  the  period.  Arriving  at  the 
age  of  manhood,  he  proved  himself  an  acute 
and  solid  reasoner.  But  reason  is  no  barrier 
against  love;  he  became  attached  to  a  lady 
of  the  blood-royal,  and  with  the  consent  of 
their  friends  was  united  to  her.  On  the  very 
evening  of  their  nuptials,  when  the  clamour  of 
the  feast  had  subsided,  the  pious  youth  com- 
menced a  theological  disquisition,  and  strove 
with  much  force  and  earnestness  to  impress 
his  bride  with  the  fear  and  love  of  God.  When 
he  had  concluded,  recommending  her  to  pre- 
serve the  same  modesty  of  demeanour  for 
which  she  had  always  been  distinguished,  he 
consigned  to  the  care  of  a  servant  his  gold 


OF  ALEXIUS.  67 

ring,  and  the  clasp*  of  the  sword-belt  which 
usually  begirt  him,  "  Take  charge  of  these 
vanities/'  said  he,  "for  I  abjure  them;  and  as 
long  as  it  shall  please  God,  keep  them  in  re- 
membrance of  me :  may  the  Almighty  guide 
us/'  He  then  provided  a  sum  of  money,  and 
the  same  night  embarked  in  a  ship  bound  for 
Laodicea.  From  thence  he  proceeded  to 
Edessaf,  a  city  of  Syria.  It  was  here  that 
the  image  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  wrought 
upon  linen  by  supernatural  hands,  was  pre- 
served. On  reaching  this  place  he  distributed 
whatever  he  had  brought  with  him  to  the  poor ; 
and  putting  on  a  worn  and  tattered  garment, 
joined  himself  to  a  number  of  mendicants  who 
sat  in  the  porch  of  the  temple  dedicated  to  the 
Virgin  Mary.  He  now  constantly  solicited 
alms;  but  of  all  that  he  received,  only  the 
smallest  portion  was  retained, — an  unbounded 
charity  leading  him  to  bestow  the  residue  upon 
his  more  needy,  or  more  covetous  brethren. 
The  father  of  Alexius,  however,  was  over- 

*  The  Latin  is  caput ;  if  it  mean  not  this,  I  know  not  what 
it  means. 

t  It  has  also  borne  the  names  of  Antiochia,  Callirrhot 
Justinopolis — and  Ehoas,  said  to  have  been  built  by  Nimrod. 


OF  ALEXIUS. 

whelmed  with  sorrow  at  the  inexplicable  de- 
parture of  his  son ;  and  despatched  his  ser- 
vants in  pursuit  of  him  to  various  parts  of  the 
world.  These  servants  were  very  diligent  in 
their  inquiries ;  and  it  chanced  that  certain  of 
them  came  to  the  city  of  Edessa,  and  were 
recognized  by  Alexius ;  but,  pertinaciously 
concealing  himself  under  the  garb  of  want 
and  misery,  he  passed  unknown  and  unsus- 
pected. The  men,  little  aware  who  was  ex- 
periencing their  bounty,  conferred  large  alms 
upon  the  paupers  amongst  whom  he  sojourn- 
ed ;  and  his  heart  silently  but  gratefully  ac- 
knowledged the  benefaction.  "  I  thank  thee, 
O  my  God,  that  thou  hast  thought  good  to 
dispense  thine  alms  by  the  hands  of  my  own 
servants." 

On  this  unsuccessful  issue  of  their  search, 
the  messengers  returned ;  and  when  the  intelli- 
gence of  their  failure  reached  his  mother,  she 
shut  herself  up  in  a  remote  chamber,  and  there 
gave  utterance  to  her  griefs.  She  slept  upon 
the  ground,  with  sack- cloth  only  for  a  cover- 
ing ;  and  solemnly  vowed  never  to  change  her 
way  of  life  until  she  recovered  her  lost  son- 


OF  ALEXIUS.  69 

The  husband,  thus  left  alone,  quitted  his 
own  residence  and  abode  with  his  father-in- 
law.  In  the  mean  time,  Alexius  remained  a 
beggar  in  the  porch  of  St.  Mary's  church  for 
the  space  of  seventeen  years ;  until  at  length 
the  image  of  the  Virgin,  which  stood  within 
the  sacred  edifice  said  to  the  warden,  "  Cause 
that  Man  of  God  to  enter  the  sanctuary :  for 
he  is  worthy  of  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  upon 
whom  the  spirit  of  God  rests.  His  prayer 
ascends  like  incense  to  the  throne  of  Grace. ' 
But  the  warden  knew  not  of  whom  she  spake, 
and  said,  ' '  Is  that  the  man,  who  sits  at  the 
entrance  of  the  porch  ?"  The  Virgin  answer- 
ing in  the  affirmative,  he  was  immediately 
brought  in.  Now  a  circumstance  of  this  ex- 
traordinary nature  soon  attracted  remark  ; 
and  the  veneration  with  which  they  began  to 
consider  Alexius,  approached  almost  to  adora- 
tion. But  he  despised  human  glory,  and  en- 
tering a  ship,  set  sail  for  Tarsus,*  in  Cilicia ; 
but,  the  providence  of  God  so  ordered,  that 
a  violent  tempest  carried  them  into  a  Roman 

*  Tarsus  is  the  capital  of  Cilicia,  called  by  the  Turks  Tersfs. 


70  OF  ALEXIUS. 

port.  Alexius,  informed  of  this  circum- 
stance, said  within  himself,  "I  will  hasten 
to  my  father's  house ;  no  one  will  know  me, 
and  it  is  better  that  I  prove  burthensome  to 
him,  than  to  another/'  As  he  proceeded,  he 
met  his  father  coming  from  the  palace,  sur- 
rounded by  a  large  concourse  of  dependents, 
and  immediately  he  shouted  after  him — "  Ser- 
vant of  God,  command  a  poor  and  desolate 
stranger  to  be  conveyed  into  your  house,  and 
fed  with  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  the  ta- 
ble :  so  shall  the  Lord  of  the  wanderer,  re- 
compense thee  an  hundred-fold."  The  father, 
out  of  love  to  him  whom  he  knew  not,  gave 
him  into  the  charge  of  his  followers,  and  ap- 
propriated to  him  a  room  in  his  house.  He 
supplied  him  with  meat  from  his  own  table* 
and  appointed  one  who  was  accustomed  to 
attend  upon  himself,  to  serve  him.  But 
Alexius  discontinued  not  the  fervency  of  his 
devotion,  and  macerated  his  body,  with  fasts 
and  other  austerities.  And  though  the  pam- 
pered servants  derided  him ;  and  frequently 
emptied  their  household  utensils  on  his  head, 
his  patience  was  always  invincible.  In  this 
5 


OF  ALEXIUS.  <  1 

manner,  for  seventeen  years  under  his  own 
father's  roof,  his  life  was  spent;  but  at  last, 
perceiving  by  the  spirit,  that  his  end  ap- 
proached, he  procured  ink  and  paper,  and  re- 
corded the  narrative  of  his  life.  Now  on  the 
succeeding  Sunday,  after  the  solemnization 
of  mass,  a  voice  echoing  like  thunder  among 
the  mountains,  was  heard  through  the  city. 
It  said,  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labour, 
and  I  will  give  you  rest."  The  people,  terri- 
fied and  awe-struck,  fell  upon  their  faces; 
when  a  second  time  the  voice  exclaimed, 
"  Seek  out  a  man  of  God  to  offer  a  prayer  for 
the  iniquity  of  Rome/'  Search  was  accordingly 
made,  but  no  such  man  could  be  found ;  and  the 
same  voice  waxing  louder,  and  breathing  as  it 
were  with  the  mingled  blast  of  ten  thousand 
thousand  trumpets,  again  spoke,  "Search  in 
the  house  of  .Eufemian."  Then  the  Empe- 
rors Arcadius  and  Honorius*,  in  conjunction 
with  the  Pontiff  Innocent,  proceeded  towards 
the  house  to  which  the  words  of  the  Invisible 

*  Are  we  to  suppose  that  the  one  emperor  had  been  suc- 
ceeded by  the  two  since  the  commencement  of  the  Tale  ?  The 
Pontiff"  Innocent,  seems  supererogatory. 


OF  ALEXIUS. 

directed  them,  and  as  they  approached,  the 
servant  who  attended  upon  Alexius  came  run- 
ning to  his  master,  and  cried,  "  What  think 
you,  my  lord  ?  Is  not  the  mendicant  stranger 
a  man  of  exemplary  life?"  Eufemian,  fol- 
lowing up  the  suggestion,  hastened  to  his 
chamber,  and  found  him  extended  upon  the 
bed.  Life  had  already  passed,  but  his  coun- 
tenance retained  a  dazzling  emanation  of 
glory,  like  the  countenance  of  a  cherub  in  its 
own  pure  and  beatified  element.  A  paper 
occupied  the  right  hand,  which  Eufemian 
would  have  borne  away,  but  he  was  unable  to 
extricate  it  from  the  grasp  of  the  dead  man. 
Leaving  him,  therefore,  he  returned  to  the 
Emperors  and  the  Pontiff,  and  related  what  he 
had  seen.  They  were  astonished,  and  en- 
tering the  apartment,  exclaimed,  "  Sinners 
though  we  are,  we  direct  the  helm  of  State, 
and  provide  for  the  well-being  of  the  pastoral 
government.  Give  us,  then,  the  paper,  that  we 
may  know  what  it  contains/''  Immediately 
the  Pontiff  drew  near,  and  put  his  hand  upon 
the  scroll  which  the  deceased  yet  firmly 
grasped, — and  he  instantly  relaxed  his  hold. 


OF   ALEXIUS.  73 

It  was  read  to  the  people ;  and  when  the 
father,  Eufemian,  heard  its  contents,  he  was 
paralyzed  with  grief.  His  strength  deserted 
him,  and  he  staggered  and  fell.  Returning  to 
himself  a  little,  he  rent  his  garment,  plucked 
off  the  silver  hairs  of  his  head,  and  tore  the  ve- 
nerable beard  that  swept  his  unhappy  bosom. 
He  even  inflicted  severe  wounds  upon  himself, 
and  falling  upon  the  dead  body,  cried,  "  Alas  ! 
my  son — my  son !  why  hast  thou  laid  up  for 
me  such  deadly  anguish  ?  Why,  for  so  many 
years,  hast  thou  endured  a  bitterness  which 
death  itself  cannot  exceed  ?  Wretched  man 
that  I  am,  he  who  should  have  been  the 
guardian  of  my  increasing  infirmities,  and  the 
hope  and  the  honour  of  my  age  lies  upon  this 
miserable  pallet,  and  speaks  not.  Oh  !  where 
is  consolation  to  be  found?" — At  this  instant, 
like  an  enraged  and  wounded  lioness  breaking 
through  the  toils  with  which  the  hunters,  had 
encompassed  her,  the  poor  broken-hearted 
Abael,  who  had  followed  in  the  press,  rushed 
desperately  forward.  Her  garments  were  torn, 
and  hanging  about  her  in  shreds ;  her  hair 
VOL.  i.  E 


74  OF   ALEXIUS. 

dishevelled  and  flying;  her  eyes,  wild  and 
sparkling  with  the  violence  of  emotion,  were 
raised  piteously  to  heaven.  With  that  strength 
which  frenzy  sometimes  supplies,  she  burst 
through  the  multitude  who  struggled  to  de- 
tain her;  and  approaching  the  body  of  her 
deceased  child,  said,  or  rather  shrieked,  in  a 
heart-piercing  accent,  "  I  will  pass ;  I  will 
look  upon  my  soul's  only  comfort.  Did  not 
this  dried  fountain  suckle  him  ?  Have  not 
these  withered  arms  supported  him  ?  Hath  he 
not  slept — ah !  not  such  sleep  as  this  ! — while 
I  have  watched  him  ?  Oh  my  child  \"  Saying 
this,  she  threw  her  emaciated  form  upon 
the  unconscious  object  of  her  solicitude ; 
and  again  giving  vent  to  her  sorrows,  exclaim- 
ed, "  My  own  dear  boy!  light  of  the  dimmed 
eyes  that  will  soon  close  upon  all,  since  thou 
art  gone — why  hast  thou  wrought  this  ?  why 
wast  thou  so  inhuman  ?  Thou  didst  see  our 
tears — thou  didst  hearken  to  our  groans — 
yet  earnest  not  forward  to  abate  them  !  The 
slaves  scoffed  at  and  injured  thee,  but  thou 
wert  [patient — too,  too  patient."  Again,  and 
again,  the  unfortunate  mother  prostrated  her- 


OF   ALEXIUS.  75 

self  upon  the  body;  one  while  clasping  him 
in  her  arms,  at  another,  passing  her  hand  re- 
verently over  his  seraphic  features.  Now, 
she  impressed  a  kiss  upon  the  cold  cheek 
and  eye-lids  which  her  tears  had  moistened — 
and  now  bending  over  him,  muttered  some- 
thing in  a  low  and  inaudible  voice.  Suddenly 
turning  to  the  spectators,  she  said,  "  Weep,  I 
pray  ye,  weep  :  ye  who  are  regarding  the  ago- 
nies of  a  bereaved  parent — have  ye  no  tear  to 
spare  her  ?  Abiding  together  for  seventeen 
years,  I  knew  him  not ; — not  him,  my  beloved 
and  beautiful !  They  taunted  him,  and  show- 
ered their  unmanly  blows  upon  his  enduring 
head.  Oh !  who  will  again  bring  tears  to  my 
burning  eyelids  ?  Who — who,  will  bear  a  part 
in  my  misery  ?" 

The  wife,  whom  Alexius  had  married  and 
quitted  on  the  evening  of  their  nuptials,  had 
been  borne  along  by  the  congregating  popu- 
lace ;  but  distress,  until  now,  had  held  her 
silent*.  As  Abael  ceased,  she  sprung  for- 


*  The  reader  will  not  perhaps  comprehend  much  occasion  for 
the  lady's  sorrow. 

E2 


76  OF   ALEXIUS. 

ward  and  cried,  "  Thou,  miserable  !  what  then 
am  I  ?  Woe  is  me  !  to-day  I  am  desolate ;  to- 
day I  am  all  a  widow !  Now,  there  is  none  for 
whom  I  may  look — none,  whom  I  may  yet 
expect,  although  he  come  not.  Where  shall 
mine  eye  see  gladness  ?  The  glass  of  my  joy 
is  broken* — shivered — shivered  :  my  hope  is 
extinct;  and  grief  is  all  the  portion  of  my 
widowhood."  The  multitude,  penetrated  by 
the  various  calamities  of  which  they  were  wit- 
nesses, sympathized  with  the  sufferers,  and 
wept  aloud. 

By  command  of  the  pontiff  and  the  two 
emperors,  the  body  was  deposited  on  a  sump- 
tuous bier,  and  brought  into  the  middle  of 
the  city.  Proclamation  was  made,  that  the 
man  of  God  was  discovered,  whom  they  had 
before  sought  in  vain  :  and  every  one  crowded 
to  the  bier.  Now,  if  any  infirm  person  touched 
the  hallowed  corpse,  instantly  he  was  strength- 
ened. The  blind  received  their  sight;  those 
who  were  possessed  of  devils  were  set  free, 
and  all  the  sick,  be  the  disorder  what  it  might, 

*  The  monk  is  not  often  so  poetical. 


OF   ALEXIUS.  77 

when  they  had  once  come  in  contact  with  .the 
body,  were  made   whole.      These   miraculous 
effects,   attracted  the  attention  of  the   empe- 
rors  and   the   pontiff.      They   determined   to 
support  the  bier;  and  when  they  had  done  so, 
they   were   sanctified   by   the   holiness   which 
proceeded  from  the   corse.     They  then   scat- 
tered great  abundance  of  gold  and  silver  about 
the  streets,  that  the  people's  natural  cupidity 
might  draw  them  aside,  and  the  bier  be  car- 
ried forward  to  the  church;    but,  strange  to 
say,  careless  of  all  else,  they  pressed  yet  the 
more  vehemently  to  touch  it.     At  length,  after 
great  exertions,  he  was  brought  to  the  church 
of  St.  Boniface,  the  Martyr ;   and  there,  for 
the  space  of  seven  days,  they  tarried,  praising 
God.     They  constructed  a  monument,  glitter- 
ing with  gold  and  precious  stones,  and  here, 
with  the  greatest  reverence,  placed  the  body 
of  their  Saint.    Even  from  the  very  monument, 
so  sweet  an  odour  of  sanctity  broke  forth,  that 
it  seemed  to  be  entirely  filled  with  the  most 
fragrant  aroma.     He  died  about  the  year  of 
our  Lord  cccxxvm.  (12) 


E3 


OF   ALEXIUS. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  Eufemian  is  any  man  of  this 
world  who  hath  a  darling  son,  for  whose  ad- 
vantage he  labours  day  and  night.  He  ob- 
tains a  wife  for  him,  that  is,  the  vanity  of  .the 
world,  which  he  delights  in  as  in  a  bride; 
nay,  the  world's  vanities  are  often  more  to  a 
man  than  the  most  virtuous  wife — for  life  is 
sacrificed  to  the  one,  but,  alas  !  how  seldom 
to  the  other  !  The  mother,  is  the  world  itself, 
which  greatly  values  her  worldly-minded 
children.  But  the  good  son,  like  the  blessed 
Alexius,  is  more  studious  to  please  God  than 
his  parents,  remembering  that  it  is  said, — 
"  He  who  forsakes  land  or  houses,  or  father, 
or  mother,  or  wife,  for  my  sake,  shall  receive 
an  hundred  fold,  and  possess  eternal  life." 
Alexius  enters  a  ship,  &c.  The  ship  is  our 
holy  Church,  by  which  we  ought  to  enter,  if 
we  would  obtain  everlasting  happiness.  We 
must  likewise  lay  aside  gorgeous  raiment — 
that  is  the  pomps  of  the  world ;  and  associate 
with  the  poor — that  is,  the  poor  in  spirit. 


OF   ALEXIUS.  79 

The  warden,  who  conducted  him  into  the 
Church,  is  a  prudent  confessor,  whose  duty 
it  is,  to  instruct  the  sinner,  and  lead  him  to 
a  knowledge  of  the  sacred  Scriptures,  by 
which  the  soul  may  pass  unharmed  to  immor- 
tality. But  sometimes  tempests  arise,  and 
hurry  a  man  to  his  own  country,  as  it  hap- 
pened to  Alexius.  The  temptations  of  the 
Evil  One,  are  symbolized  by  these  tempests, 
which  turn  the  voyager  from  his  settled  course, 
and  prevent  a  life  of  goodness.  If,  therefore, 
you  feel  that  you  are  subject  to  certain  temp- 
tations, follow  the  example  of  the  holy  Alexius. 
Assume  the  dress  of  a  pilgrim — that  is,  take 
the  qualities  necessary  for  the  pilgrimage  of 
this  life,  and  disguise  yourself  from  your 
carnal  and  worldly  father,  and  become  a  man 
of  God.  But  if  it  fall  out,  that  when  such 
a  one  aspires  to  a  life  of  penitence,  his  parents 
lament,  and  decry  their  child's  contempt  of 
the  world,  and  his  voluntary  choice  of  po- 
verty for  the  love  of  Grod — still,  it  is  safer  to 
displease  them,  than  Heaven.  Obtain,  there- 
fore, a  fair  piece  of  paper,  which  is  a  good 
conscience,  on  which  inscribe  your  life;  and 
E  4 


80  OF  AN   EXEMPLARY   LIFE. 

then,'  the  High  Priest  with  the  emperors  will 
draw  near — that  is,  Christ  with  a  multitude 
of  angels — and  convey  your  soul  to  the  church 
of  St.  Boniface — that  is,  to  eternal  life,  where 
all  sanctity  (or  joy)  abounds. 


TALE    XVI. 


OF   AN   EXEMPLARY   LIFE. 


WE  read  of  a  certain  Roman  Emperor,  who 
built  a  magnificent  palace.  In  digging  the 
foundation,  the  workmen  discovered  a  golden 
sarcophagus,  ornamented  with  three  circlets 
on  which  were  inscribed,  "  I  have  expended 
— I  have  given — I  have  kept — I  have  pos- 
sessed— I  do  possess — I  have  lost — I  am  pu- 
nished." In  the  front  also,  was  written, "  What 
I  expended,  I  have;  what  I  gave  away,  I 
have."  (13)  The  Emperor,  on  seeing  this, 
called  to  him  the  nobles  of  his  empire,  and 


OF   AN   EXEMPLARY   LIFE.  81 

said,  "  Go,  and  consider  amongst  ye,  what 
this  superscription  signifies."  The  nobleman 
replied,  "  Sire,  the  meaning  is,  that  an  Em- 
peror, who  reigned  before  your  Majesty,  wish- 
ed to  leave  an  example  for  the  imitation  of 
his  successors.  He  therefore  wrote,  '  I  have 
expended' — that  is,  my  life;  judging  some, 
admonishing  others,  and  governing  to  the 
best  of  my  ability.  <  I  have  given,' — that  is, 
military  equipments,  and  supplies  to  the 
needy  ;  to  every  one  according  to  his  desert. 
'I  have  kept/ — that  is,  exact  justice;  shew- 
ing mercy  to  the  indigent,  and  yielding  to 
the  labourer^  his  hire.  'I  have  possessed/ — 
that  is,  a  generous  and  true  heart;  recom- 
pensing faithfully  those  who  have  done  me 
service,  and  exhibiting  at  all  times  a  kind 
and  affable  exterior.  '  I  do  possess/' — that 
is,  a  hand  to  bestow,  to  protect,  and  to  punish. 
f  I  have  lost,' — that  is,  my  folly ;  I  have  lost 
the  friendship  of  my  foes,  and  the  lascivious 
indulgences  of  the  flesh.  1 1  am  punished/- 
that is,  in  hell ;  because  I  believed  not  in  one 
eternal  God,  and  put  no  faith  in  the  redemp- 
tion." *:•;*  —  *':•''•*••*''•'*  (14) 
E  5 


82  OF   AN   EXEMPLARY   LIFE. 

The  Emperor  hearing  this,  ever  after  regu- 
lated himself  and  his  subjects  with  greater 
wisdom,  and  finished  his  life  in  peace. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  Emperor  is  any  Christian, 
whose  duty  it  is  to  raise  a  fair  structure, — 
that  is,  a  heart  prepared  for  the  reception  of 
God.  If  he  dig  deep,  led  onward  by  sincere 
contrition  for  past  offences,  he  will  find  a 
golden  sarcophagus, — that  is,  a  mind  gilded 
with  virtue  and  full  of  the  divine  grace.  Three 
golden  circlets  will  ornament  it,  and  these  are 
faith,  hope,  and  charity.  But  what  is  written 
there  ?  In  the  first  place,  "  I  have  expended." 
Tell  me,  my  beloved,  what  have  you  expend- 
ed ?  The  good  Christian  may  reply,  "  Body 
and  soul  in  the  service  of  God."  Whosoever 
of  you,  thus  expends  his  life,  will  secure  the 
rewards  of  eternity.  The  second  legend  saith, 
"I  have  kept."  Tell  me,  my  beloved,  what 
have  you  kept  ?  The  good  Christian  may  an- 
swer, "  A  broken  and  contrite  spirit."  The 


OF   A   PERFECT   LIFE.  83 

third  inscription  says,  "  I  have  given."  Tell 
me,  my  beloved,  what  have  you  given  ?  The 
good  Christian  may  reply,  "  My  whole  heart 
to  God."  Et  sic  de  cateris. 

[From  hence,  the  morals  have  been  abridg- 
ed, and  merely  the  chief  heads  of  them  given.] 


TALE    XVII. 


OF    A    PERFECT    LIFE. 


AN  Emperor  decreed,  that  whoever  wished  to 
serve  him,  should  obtain  his  wish,  condition- 
ally, that  he  struck  three  times  upon  the  pa- 
lace-gate, by  which  those  within  might  under- 
stand what  he  wanted.  Now,  there  was  a 
certain  poor  man  in  the  Roman  empire,  called 
Guido ;  who,  on  hearing  the  mode  by  which 
admission  to  the  Emperor's  service  was  to  be 
E  6 


84  OF   A   PERFECT   LIFE. 

attained,  thus  thought — "  I  am  a  poor  fellow, 
of  low  descent;  it  is  better  for  me  to  serve 
and  acquire  wealth,  than  to  live  in  indepen- 
dence and  starve."  So  he  proceeded  to  the 
palace,  and  according  to  the  edict,  gave  three 
blows  upon  the  gate.  The  porter  immediately 
opened  it,  and  brought  him  in.  He  was  in- 
troduced to  the  Emperor's  presence,  who  said, 
"  What  seek  you,  my  friend  ?"  Guido  replied, 
<(  I  wish  to  serve  your  Majesty." — "  And  for 
what  office  may  you  be  fit  ?"  returned  the 
Emperor.  "I  can  serve,  with  tolerable  ex- 
pertness,  in  six  capacities  ;"  said  Guido,  cc  First, 
I  can  act  as  body-guard  to  the  prince ;  I  can 
make  his  bed,  dress  his  food,  and  wash  his 
feet.  Secondly,  I  can  watch  when  others 
sleep,  and  sleep  when  others  watch.  Thirdly, 
I  can  drink  good  drink,  and  tell  whether  it  be 
good  or  not.  Fourthly,  I  can  invite  company 
to  a  festival  for  my  master's  honor.  Fifthly, 
I  can  make  a  fire  without  the  least  smoke, 
which  will  warm  all  that  approach  it.  Sixthly, 
I  can  teach  people  the  way  to  the  holy  land, 
from  whence  they  will  return  in  excellent 
health."— "By  my  faith/'  said  the  Emperor, 


OF   A   PERFECT   LIFE.  85 

"  these  are  fine  matters,  and  will  be  useful  to 
a  good  many  :  thou  shalt  stay  with  me,  and 
serve  me  first  as  body-guard.  In  each  de- 
partment thou  shalt  remain  a  full  year." 
Guido  expressed  himself  content;  and  every 
night  made  ready  the  Emperor's  bed,  washed 
the  linen,  and  occasionally  changed  it.  Then 
he  lay  down  at  the  entrance  of  the  chamber, 
armed  at  all  points.  He  likewise  provided  a 
dog,  whose  barking  might  warn  him  of  any 
danger.  Every  night,  he  washed  the  King's 
feet,  and  in  all  respects  ministered  so  faith- 
fully and  manfully,  that  not  the  least  fault 
was  found  in  him.  The  Emperor,  therefore, 
was  well  pleased ;  and  at  the  expiration  of 
the  year,  made  him  his  seneschal,  preparatory 
to  the  fulfilment  of  the  second  office,  which 
was,  to  provide  every  thing  requisite.  Then 
Guido  commenced  his  operations ;  and  during 
the  whole  summer  collected  a  variety  of  stores, 
and  watched  with  great  assiduity  the  fittest 
opportunities.  So  that  on  the  approach  of 
winter,  when  others,  who  had  wasted  the  pro- 
per season,  began  to  labour  and  lay  up,  he 
took  his  ease  and  thus  completed  the  service 


86  OF   A   PERFECT   LIFE. 

of  the  second  year.  When  the  Emperor  per- 
ceived his  diligence  and  sagacity,  he  called 
to  him  his  chief  butler,  and  said,  "  Friend, 
put  into  my  cup  some  of  the  best  wine, 
mingled  with  must  and  vinegar,  (15)  and  give 
it  to  Guido  to  taste  :  for  that  is  his  third  mi- 
nistry, namely,  to  taste  good  drink,  and  pro- 
nounce upon  its  qualities."  The  butler  did 
as  he  was  commanded.  When  Guido  had 
tasted,  he  said,  "  It  was  good ;  it  is  good, 
it  will  be  good.  That  is,  the  must  which  is 
new,  will  be  good  when  it  is  older;  the  old 
wine  is  good,  at  present ;  and  the  vinegar  was 
good  formerly."  The  Emperor  saw  that  he 
had  answered  discreetly  and  accurately;  and 
this  without  previously  knowing  the  compo- 
nent parts  of  the  beverage.  He  therefore 
said,  "  Go  now  through  town  and  country 
and  invite  all  my  friends  to  a  festival;  for 
Christmas  is  at  hand :  herein  shall  consist 
your  fourth  ministry."  Guido  instantly  set 
out  ;  but  instead  of  executing  the  orders  he 
had  received,  he  invited  none  but  the  Empe- 
ror's enemies  :  thus,  on  Christmas  eve,  his 
court  was  filled  with  them.  When  he  ob- 


OF   A   PERFECT    LIFE.  87 

served  this,  he  was  exceedingly  perturbed, 
and  calling  Guido  to  him,  said,  "How  is 
this  ?  did  you  not  say  that  you  knew  what 
men  to  ask  to  my  table  ?"  He  answered, 
"  Surely,  my  Lord." — "  And  said  I  not/'  re- 
turned the  Emperor,  very  much  provoked, 
"  said  I  not,  that  thou  wert  to  invite  my 
friends?  How  comes  it  that  thou  hast  as- 
sembled only  my  enemies?" — "My  Lord," 
replied  Guido,  "suffer  me  to  speak.  At  all 
seasons,  and  at  all  hours,  your  friends  may 
visit  you,  and  they  are  received  with  plea- 
sure; but  it  is  not  so  with  your  enemies. 
From  which  reflection,  I  persuaded  myself 
that  a  conciliating  behaviour,  and  a  good 
dinner  would  convert  your  inveterate  enemies 
into  warm  friends."  This  was  really  the  case ; 
before  the  feast  concluded,  they  all  became 
cordial  partisans,  and  as  long  as  they  lived 
remained  faithful  to  their  sovereign.  The 
Emperor,  therefore,  was  much  delighted,  and 
cried,  "Blessed  be  God,  my  enemies,  are 
now  my  friends  !  Execute  thy  fifth  ministry, 
and  make  both  for  them  and  me,  a  fire  that 
shall  burn  without  smoke."  Guido  replied, 


88  OF   A   PERFECT   LIFE. 

"  It  shall  be  done  immediately/'  and  he  thus 
performed  his  promise.  In  the  heat  of  sum- 
mer, he  dried  a  quantity  of  green  wood  in  the 
sun  :  having  done  this,  he  made  a  fire  with 
it,  that  blazed  and  sparkled,  but  threw  out 
no  smoke :  so  that  the  Emperor  and  his 
friends  warmed  themselves  without  inconve- 
nience. He  was  now  directed  to  perform  his 
last  service,  and  promised  great  honours  and 
wealth  on  completing  it  also,  equally  to  the 
satisfaction  of  his  master.  "  My  Lord,"  said 
Guido,  "  whoever  would  travel  to  the  Holy 
Land,  must  follow  me  to  the  sea-side/'  Ac- 
cordingly, proclamation  being  made,  men, 
women,  and  children,  in  immense  crowds, 
hastened  after  him.  When  they  arrived  at 
the  appointed  place,  Guido  said,  "  My  friends, 
do  you  observe  in  the  sea  the  same  things 
which  I  do  ?"  They  answered,  "  We  know 
not  that."— "  Then/'  continued  he,  "do  you 
perceive  in  the  midst  of  the  waves  an  immense 
rock  ?  Lift  up  your  eyes  and  look."  They 
replied,  "  Master,  we  see  it  well  enough,  but 
do  not  understand  why  you  ask  us." — "  Know," 
said  he,  "  that  in  this  rock  there  is  a  sort  of 


OF   A   PERFECT   LIFE.  89 

bird,  continually  sitting  on  her  nest,  in  which 
are  seven  eggs.  While  she  is  thus  employed, 
the  sea  is  tranquil;  but  if  she  happen  to 
quit  her  nest,  storm  and  tempest  immediately 
succeed;  insomuch,  that  they  who  would 
venture  upon  the  ocean,  are  certain  to  be  cast 
away.  On  the  other  hand,  as  long  as  she  sits 
upon  the  eggs,  whoever  goes  to  sea,  will  go 
and  return  in  safety." — "  But,"  said  they, 
"  how  shall  we  ascertain  when  the  bird  is  on 
her  nest,  and  when  she  is  not?"  He  replied, 
"She  never  quits  her  nest,  except  on  some 
particular  emergency.  For  there  is  another 
bird,  exceedingly  hostile  to  her,  laboring 
day  and  night  to  defile  her  nest,  and  break  the 
eggs.  Now,  the  bird  of  the  nest,  when  she 
sees  her  eggs  broken,  and  her  nest  fouled, 
instantly  flies  away  possessed  with  the  great- 
est grief;  then,  the  sea  rages  and  the  winds 
become  very  boisterous.  At  that  time,  you 
ought  especially  to  avoid  putting  out  of  port." 
The  people  made  answer,  "  But,  master,  what 
remedy  is  there  for  this  ?  How  shall  we  pre- 
vent the  unfriendly  bird  from  approaching  the 
other's  nest,  and  so  pass  safely  over  the  wa- 


90  OF   A   PERFECT   LIFE. 

ters?" — "There  is  nothing,"  returned  Guido, 
"which  this  unfriendly  bird  so  much  abhors 
as  the  blood  of  a  lamb.  Sprinkle,  therefore, 
with  this  blood,  the  inside  and  the  outside  of 
the  nest,  and  as  long  as  one  single  drop  re- 
mains, it  will  never  approach  it :  the  bird  of 
the  nest  will  sit :  the  sea  will  continue  calm, 
and  you  will  pass  and  repass  with  perfect 
safety."  When  they  had  heard  this,  they 
took  the  blood  of  the  lamb,  and  sprinkled 
it,  as  he  had  said.  They  then  passed  se- 
curely to  the  Holy  Land;  and  the  Emperor, 
seeing  that  Guido  had  fulfilled  every  ministry 
with  wisdom,  promoted  him  to  a  great  mili- 
tary command,  and  bestowed  on  him  immense 
riches.  (16) 


APPLICATION. 

MY  beloved,  the  Emperor  is  our  heavenly 
Father,  who  decreed,  that  whosoever  struck 
thrice  upon  the  gate, — that  is,  who  prayed, 
fasted,  and  gave  alms,  should  become  a  sol- 
dier of  the  church  militant,  and  finally  attain 


OF   A   PERFECT   LIFE.  91 

everlasting  life.  Guido  is  any  poor  man,  who 
in  baptism  begins  his  ministry.  The  first 
office,  is  to  serve  Christ,  and  prepare  the  heart 
for  virtue.  The  second,  is  to  watch :  "  For 
ye  know  not  at  what  hour  the  Son  of  Man 
cometh."  The  third,  to  taste  of  penitence; 
which  was  good  to  the  saints  who  live  eter- 
nally in  heaven;  and  it  is  good,  because  it 
brings  us  to  that  blessed  situation.  Lastly, 
it  will  be  good,  when  the  resurrection  is  come, 
and  we  are  summoned  to  receive  a  crown  of 
glory.  The  fourth  ministry,  is  to  invite 
Christ's  enemies  to  become  his  friends,  and 
inherit  eternal  life :  for  he  "  came  not  to  call 
the  righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance." 
The  fifth,  is  to  light  the  fire  of  charity  which 
shall  burn  free  from  all  impure  and  improper 
feelings.  The  sixth,  to  teach  the  way  to  the 
Holy  Land, — that  is,  to  heaven.  The  sea, 
over  which  men  must  be  conveyed,  is  the 
world.  The  rock,  in  the  midst  of  it,  is  the 
human  form,  or  rather  the  heart,  on  which  a 
bird  cowers,  that  is,  the  Holy  Spirit.  The 
seven  eggs,  are  seven  gifts  of  the  Spirit.  If 


92  OF   VENIAL   SIN. 

the  Spirit  leave  us,  the  devil  defiles  the  nest, 
and  destroys  those  good  gifts.  The  blood  of 
the  lamb  is  Christ's  blood,  shed  for  our  salva- 
tion, with  which  we  ought  ever  to  be  sprink- 
led ;  that  is,  ever  to  retain  it  in  memory.  (17) 


TALE    XVIII. 


OF   VENIAL   SIN. 


A  CERTAIN  soldier,  called  Julian,  unwit- 
tingly killed  his  parents.  For  being  of  noble 
birth,  and  addicted,  as  youth  frequently  is, 
to  the  sports  of  the  field,  a  stag  which  he 
hotly  pursued,  suddenly  turned  round,  and 
addressed  him  ;  "  Thou  who  pursuest  me  so 
fiercely,  shalt  be  the  destruction  of  thy  pa- 
rents." These  words  greatly  alarmed  Julian, 
who  feared  their  accomplishment  even  while 


OF  VENIAL  SIN,  93 

he  disavowed  the  possibility.  Leaving,  there- 
fore, his  amusement,  he  went  privately  into  a 
distant  country,  and  enrolled  himself  in  the 
bands  of  a  certain  chieftain.  His  conduct, 
as  well  in  war  as  in  peace,  merited  so  highly 
from  the  prince  he  served,  that  he  created 
him  a  knight,  and  gave  him  the  widow  of  a 
castellan  (17)  in  marriage,  with  her  castle  as 
a  dowry. 

All  this  while,  the  parents  of  Julian  be- 
wailed the  departure  of  their  son,  and  dili- 
gently sought  for  him  in  all  places.  At  length 
they  arrived  at  the  castle,  and  in  Julian's 
absence  were  introduced  to  his  wife,  who 
asked  them  what  they  were.  They  commu- 
nicated without  reserve,  the  occasion  of  their 
search,  and  their  sorrow  for  an  only  child. 
Convinced  by  this  explanation  that  they  were 
her  husband's  parents,  (for  he  had  often  con- 
versed with  her  about  them,  and  detailed  the 
strange  occurrence  which  induced  him  to  flee 
his  country)  she  received  them  very  kind- 
ly ;  and  in  consideration  of  the  love  she  bore 
her  husband,  put  them  into  her  own  bed,  and 
commanded  another  to  be  prepared  elsewhere 


94  OF   VENIAL   SIN. 

for  herself.  Now  early  in  the  morning,  the 
lady  castellan  went  to  her  devotions.  In 
the  mean  time  Julian  returning  home,  has- 
tened, according  to  custom,  to  the  chamber 
of  his  wife,  imagining  that  she  had  not  yet 
risen.  Fearful  of  awaking  her,  he  softly  en- 
tered the  apartment,  and  perceiving  two  per- 
sons in  bed,  instantly  concluded  that  his  wife 
was  disloyal.  Without  a  moment's  pause,  he 
unsheathed  his  sabre,  and  slew  both.  Then 
in  the  greatest  agitation  and  bitterness  of 
heart,  he  hurried  from  the  chamber,  and  acci- 
dentally took  the  direction  in  which  the  church 
lay,  and  by  which  his  wife  had  proceeded  not 
long  before.  On  the  threshold  of  the  sacred 
building  he  distinguished  her,  and  struck  with 
the  utmost  amazement,  enquired  whom  they 
were  that  had  taken  possession  of  his  bed. 
She  replied,  that  they  were  his  parents  ;  who 
after  long  and  wearisome  search  in  pursuit  of 
him,  arrived  at  his  castle  the  last  evening. 
The  intelligence  was  as  a  thunderbolt  to  Ju- 
lian ;  and  unable  to  contain  himself  he  burst 
into  an  agony  of  tears.  "  Oh  I"  he  exclaimed, 
"  lives  there  in  the  world  so  forlorn  a  wretch 
8 


OF   VENIAL   SIN.  95 

as  I  am  ?  This  accursed  hand  has  murdered 
my  parents,  and  fulfilled  the  horrible  predic- 
tion, which  I  have  struggled  to  avoid.  Dear- 
est wife,  pardon  my  fatal  suspicions,  and  re- 
ceive my  last  farewell ;  for  never  will  I  know 
rest,  until  I  am  satisfied  that  God  has  forgiven 
me."  His  wife  answered,  "  Wilt  thou  aban- 
don me  then,  my  beloved,  and  leave  me  alone 
and  widowed  ?  No — I  have  been  the  partici- 
pator of  thy  happiness,  and  now  will  partici- 
pate thy  grief."  Julian  opposed  not,  and 
they  departed  together  towards  a  large  river, 
that  flowed  at  no  great  distance ;  and  where, 
from  the  rapidity  and  depth  of  the  waters, 
many  had  perished.  In  this  place  they  built 
and  endowed  a  hospital,  where  they  abode  in 
the  truest  contrition  of  heart.  Now  all  who 
had  occasion  to  pass  that  river  constantly  vi- 
sited them,  and  great  numbers  of  poor  people 
were  received  within  the  place.  Many  years 
glided  by,  and,  at  last,  on  a  very  cold  night, 
about  the  mid-hour,  as  Julian  slept,  overpow- 
ered with  fatigue,  a  lamentable  voice  seemed  to 
call  his  name.  He  instantly  got  up,  and 
found  a  man  covered  with  the  leprosy,  perish- 


OF   VENIAL   SIN, 

ing  for  very  cold.  He  brought  him  into  the 
house,  and  lighted  a  fire  to  warm  him ;  but  he 
could  not  be  made  warm.  That  he  might 
omit  no  possible  means  of  cherishing  the 
leper,  he  carried  him  into  his  own  bed,  and 
endeavoured  by  the  heat  of  his  body  to  restore 
him.  After  a  while,  he  who  seemed  sick,  and 
cold,  and  leprous,  appeared  enveloped  in  an 
immortal  splendour :  and  waving  his  light 
wings,  seemed  ready  to  mount  up  into  hea- 
ven. Turning  a  look  of  the  utmost  benignity 
upon  his  wondering  host,  he  said,  "  Julian, 
the  Lord  hath  sent  me  to  thee,  to  announce 
the  acceptance  of  thy  contrition.  Before 
long  both  thou  and  thy  partner  will  sleep  in 
the  Lord."  So  saying,  the  angelic  messenger 
disappeared.  Julian  and  his  wife,  after  a 
short  time  fully  occupied  in  good  works,  died 
in  peace.  (18) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  knight  Julian  is  any  good 
Christian  prelate,  who  ought  manfully  to  war 


OF   THE    SIN   OF   PRIDE.  97 

against  the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh; 
and  to  hunt, — that  is,  to  acquire  souls  for  the 
service  of  God.  He  should  flee  from  the 
world,  and  he  will  then  receive  the  lady  Cas- 
tellan in  marriage — that  is,  divine  grace. 
The  parents  are  the  vanities  of  this  life,  which 
pursue  a  man  everywhere  :  these  parents  must 
be  slain  with  the  sabre  of  repentance.  The 
river  is  the  Holy  Scriptures ;  and  the  hospital 
by  its  side,  is  prayer,  fasting,  and  alms- 
giving. 


TALE    XIX. 


OF   THE    SIN   OF   PRIDE. 


WE  read  in  the  Roman  annals,  (i.  e.  Gesta 
Romanorum)  of  a  prince  called  Pompey.  He 
was  united  to  the  daughter  of  a  nobleman, 
whose  name  was  Csesar.  It  was  agreed  be- 
VOL.  i.  F 


98  OF   THE    SIN   OF   PRIDE. 

tween  them  to  bring  the  whole  world  into 
subjection;  and  with  this  view  Pompey  gave 
instructions  to  his  associate  to  possess  him- 
self of  certain  distant  fortresses  :  for  the  lat- 
ter being  a  young  man,  it  became  him  to  be 
most  active  and  vigilant.  In  the  mean  while, 
Pompey,  as  the  chief  person  of  the  common- 
wealth, endeavoured  to  guard  it  against  the 
machinations  of  their  enemies ;  and  appointed 
a  particular  day  for  the  return  of  Caesar — in 
failure  of  which,  his  property  was  to  be  con- 
fiscated to  the  use  of  the  Roman  empire. 
Five  years  were  allowed  him;  and  Caesar,  as- 
sembling a  large  army,  marched  rapidly  into 
the  country  he  was  about  to  attack.  But  the 
inhabitants  being  warlike,  and  aware  of  his 
approach,  he  was  unable  to  subdue  them  in 
the  specified  time.  Caring,  therefore,  to  of- 
fend Pompey,  less  than  to  relinquish  his 
conquests,  he  continued  abroad  consider- 
ably beyond  the  five  years ;  and  was  conse- 
quently banished  the  empire,  and  his  wealth 
appropriated  by  the  government.  When  Cae- 
sar had  concluded  the  campaign  he  turned 
towards  Rome,  marching  with  his  forces 


OF   THE    SIN    OF   PRIDE.  99 

across  a  river,  distinguished  by  the  name  of 
Rubicon.  Here  a  phantom  of  immense  sta- 
ture, standing  in  the  middle  of  the  water,  op- 
posed his  passage.  It  said,  "  Caesar,  if  your 
purpose  be  the  welfare  of  the  state — pass  on ; 
but  if  not,  beware  how  you  advance  another 
step."  Caesar  replied,  "I  have  long  fought 
for,  and  am  still  prepared  to  undergo  every 
hardship  in  defence  of  Rome  ;  of  which  I  take 
the  gods  whom  I  worship  to  be  my  witnesses/' 
As  he  said  this,  the  phantom  vanished.  Caesar 
then  turning  a  little  to  the  right,  crossed  the 
river;  but  having  effected  his  passage,  he 
paused  on  the  opposite  bank :  —  "I  have 
rashly  promised  peace  m"  said  he,  "  for  in  this 
case,  I  must  relinquish  my  just  right."  From 
that  hour  he  pursued  Pompey  with  the  utmost 
virulence,  even  to  the  death ;  and  wus  himself 
slain  afterwards  by  a  band  of  conspirators. 
(19) 

APPLICATION. 

My   beloved,    by  Pompey   understand    the 
Creator  of  all  things ;  Caesar  signifies  Adam, 


100  OF  TRIBULATION, 

who  was  the  first  man.  His  daughter  is  the 
soul,  betrothed  to  God.  Adam  was  placed  in 
Paradise  to  cultivate  and  to  guard  it ;  but  not 
fulfilling  the  condition  imposed  upon  him, 
like  Caesar,  he  was  expelled  his  native  coun- 
try. The  Rubicon  is  baptism,  by  which  man- 
kind re-enters  a  state  of  blessedness. 


TALE    XX. 


OF    TRIBULATION   AND   ANGUISH. 


IN  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Conrad,  there 
lived  a  certain  Count  called  Leopold,  who  for 
some  cause,  fearing  the  indignation  of  his 
master,  fled  with  his  wife  into  the  woods,  and 
concealed  himself  in  a  miserable  hovel.  By 
chance  the  Emperor  hunted  there ;  and  being 
carried  away  by  the  heat  of  the  chace,  lost 
himself  in  the  woods,  and  was  benighted. 


OF   TRIBULATION.  101 

Wandering  about  in  various  directions,  he 
came  at  length  to  the  cottage  where  the  Count 
dwelt,  and  requested  shelter.  Now  his  hostess 
being  at  that  time  pregnant,  and  near  the  mo- 
ment of  her  travail,  prepared,  though  with  some 
difficulty,  a  meal,  and  brought  whatever  he  re- 
quired. The  same  night  she  was  delivered  of 
a  son.  While  the  Emperor  slept,  a  voice 
broke  upon  his  ear,  which  seemed  to  say, 
"  Take,  Take,  Take."  He  arose  immediately, 
and  with  considerable  alarm,  said  to  himself, 
"  What  can  that  voice  mean  ?  '  Take  !  Take  ! 
Take  !'  What  am  I  to  take  V  He  reflected 
upon  the  singularity  of  this  for  a  short  space, 
and  then  fell  asleep.  But  a  second  time,  the 
voice  addressed  him,  crying  out,  "  Restore, 
Restore,  Restore."  He  awoke  in  very  great 
sorrow.  "  What  is  all  this  V  thought  he. 
"  First,  I  was  to  '  Take,  Take,  Take/  and  there 
is  nothing  for  me  to  take.  Just  now  the  same 
voice  exclaimed,  '  Restore,  Restore,  Restore/ 
and  what  can  I  restore  when  I  have  taken 
nothing?"  Unable  to  explain  the  mystery, 
he  again  slept ;  and  the  third  time,  the  voice 
spoke.  "  Fly,  Fly,  Fly,"  it  said,  "  for  a  child 
F  3 


102  OF   TRIBULATION. 

is  now  born,  who  shall  become  thy  son-in- 
law."  These  words  created  great  perplexity 
in  the  emperor ;  and  getting  up  very  early  in 
the  morning,  he  sought  out  two  of  his  squires, 
and  said,  "  Go  and  force  away  that  child  from 
its  mother ;  cleave  it  in  twain,  and  bring  its 
heart  to  me."  The  squires  obeyed,  and 
snatched  away  the  boy,  as  it  hung  at  its  mo- 
ther's breast.  But  observing  its  very  great 
beauty,  they  were  moved  to  compassion,  and 
placed  it  upon  the  branch  of  a  tree,  to  secure 
it  from  the  wild  beasts  ;  and  then  killing  a 
hare,  they  conveyed  its  heart  to  the  emperor. 
Soon  after  this,  a  duke  travelling  in  the  forest, 
passed  by,  and  hearing  the  cry  of  an  infant, 
searched  about ;  and  discovering  it,  placed  it, 
unknown  to  any  one,  in  the  folds  of  his  garment. 
Having  no  child  himself,  he  conveyed  it  to  his 
wife,  and  bade  her  nourish  it  as  their  own. 
The  lady,  pleased  to  execute  so  charitable  an 
office,  became  much  attached  to  the  little 
foundling,  whom  she  called  Henry.  The  boy 
grew  up,  handsome  in  person  and  extremely 
eloquent ;  so  that  he  became  a  general  fa- 
vourite. Now  the  emperor  remarking  the 


OF   TRIBULATION.  103 

extraordinary  quickness  of  the  youth,  de- 
sired his  foster-father  to  send  him  to  court; 
where  he  resided  a  length  of  time.  But  the 
great  estimation  in  which  he  was  held  by  all 
ranks  of  people,  caused  the  emperor  to  repent 
what  he  had  done ;  and  to  fear  lest  he  should 
aspire  to  the  throne,  or  probably  be  the  same, 
whom,  as  a  child,  he  had  commanded  his 
squires  to  destroy.  Wishing  to  secure  him- 
self from  every  possible  turn  of  fortune,  he 
wrote  a  letter  with  his  own  hand  to  the  Queen 
to  the  following  purport,  "  I  command  you,  on 
pain  of  death,  as  soon  as  this  letter  reaches  you, 
to  put  the  young  man  to  death."  When  it  was 
completed,  he  went,  by  some  accident  into  the 
chapel- royal,  and  seating  himself  upon  a  bench, 
fell  asleep.  The  letter  had  been  inclosed  in  a 
purse,  which  hung  loosely  from  his  girdle ; 
and  a  certain  priest  of  the  place,  impelled  by 
an  ungovernable  curiosity,  opened  the  purse 
and  read  the  purposed  wickedness.  Filled 
with  horror  and  indignation,  he  cunningly 
erased  the  passage  commanding  the  youth's 
death,  and  wrote  instead,  "  Give  him  our 
daughter  in  marriage."  The  writing  was  con- 


104  OF   TRIBULATION. 

veyed  to  the  queen,  who,  finding  the  emperor's 
signature,  and  the  impression  of  the  royal 
signet,  called  together  the  princes  of  the  em- 
pire, and  celebrated  their  nuptials  with  great 
pomp.  When  this  was  communicated  to  the 
emperor,  who  had  quitted  the  palace,  as  well 
to  give  better  opportunity  for  effecting  his 
atrocious  design,  as  to  remove  the  stigma  of 
its  execution  from  himself,  he  was  greatly  af- 
flicted :  but  when  he  heard  the  whole  chain 
of  miraculous  interposition  from  the  two 
squires,  the  duke,  and  the  priest,  he  saw  that 
he  must  resign  himself  to  the  dispensations  of 
God.  And,  therefore,  sending  for  the  young 
man,  he  confirmed  his  marriage,  and  appointed 
him  heir  to  his  kingdom.  (20) 

APPLICATION. 

MY  beloved,  the  emperor  is  God  the  Father ; 
who,  angry  with  our  first  parents,  drove  them 
from  Paradise  into  the  woods,  and  desolate 
places  of  life.  The  child  who  was  born  is 
Jesus  Christ,  whom  many  persecute ;  but  who 
will  finally  triumph  over  all  his  enemies.  The 


OF   OVER-BEACHING,    &C.  105 

squires,  are  the  divine  power  and  grace  ope- 
rating upon  the  heart.  The  child  is  placed  in 
a  tree — that  is,  in  the  church ;  and  the  duke, 
who  preserved  it,  is  any  good  prelate.  The 
slain  hare,  is  our  carnal  affections,  which 
ought  to  be  destroyed.  The  letter  which  the 
emperor  wrote  with  his  own  hand,  is  every 
evil  imagination  which  possesses  the  heart. 
For  then  Christ  is  in  danger  of  being  destroy- 
ed. The  priest  who  preserved  the  youth,  is' 
any  discreet  minister,  who  by  means  of  the 
Sacred  Writings  mollifies  the  asperities  of  the 
human  soul,  and  betroths  it  to  Heaven. 


TALE    XXL 


OF  OVER-REACHING  AND  CONSPIRACY,  AND 
OF   CAUTION    OPPOSED   TO   THEM. 


JUSTIN  records,  (21)  that  the  Lacedaemonians 

conspired  against  their  king;   and  prevailing, 

F  5 


106  OF   OVER-REACHING 

banished  him.  It  happened  that  a  king  of  the 
Persians  plotted  the  destruction  of  the  same 
state,  and  prepared  to  besiege  Lacedsemon 
with  a  large  army.  The  exile,  though  smart- 
ing beneath  the  wrongs  accumulated  on  him 
by  his  own  subjects,  could  not  but  regard  the 
land  of  his  nativity ;  and  feel  for  it  that  deep 
and  rooted  love  which  forms,  as  it  were,  the 
very  existence  of  the  real  patriot.  Having  as- 
certained, therefore,  the  hostile  designs  of  the 
Persian  monarch  against  the  Lacedaemonians, 
he  reflected  by  what  means  he  might  securely 
forewarn  them  of  the  impending  danger.  Ac- 
cordingly, taking  up  his  tablets,  he  commu- 
nicated his  discovery,  and  explained  how  they 
might  best  resist  and  defeat  their  enemies. 

When  he  had  written,  he  enveloped  the 
whole  in  wax,  and  finding  a  trust- worthy  mes- 
senger, despatched  him  to  the  insurgent  nobles. 
On  inspection  of  the  tablets,  no  writing  could 
be  distinguished ;  for  the  entire  surface  of  the 
wax  discovered  not  the  slightest  impression. 
This  naturally  gave  rise  to  much  discussion, 
and  each  delivered  his  opinion  as  to  the  intent 
and  further  disposal  of  the  tablets.  But  the 


AND    CONSPIRACY.  107 

mystery  none  of  them  could  unravel.  Now 
it  chanced  that  a  sister  of  the  Lacedaemonian 
king,  understanding  their  perplexity,  request- 
ed permission  to  inspect  them.  Her  desire 
was  admitted;  she  commenced  a  minute  in- 
vestigation, and  assisted  by  that  peculiar 
shrewdness,  which  women  frequently  dfsplay 
in  emergencies,  raised  the  wax,  and  a  portion 
of  the  writing  became  manifest.  She  had  now 
a  clue,  and  proceeding  in  her  work,  gradually 
removed  the  waxen  covering  and  exhibited 
the  legend  at  full.  The  nobles  of  the  council 
thus  pre-monished,  rejoiced  exceedingly;  took 
the  necessary  steps,  and  secured  themselves 
against  the  menaced  siege. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king,  is  Christ,  who  is  ba- 
nished, by  human  depravity,  from  his  right. 
Nevertheless,  he  so  loved  us,  as  to  contrive  a 
means  of  freeing  us  from  the  attacks  of  our 
enemy  the  devil. 


F6 


108  OF    WORLDLY   FEAR. 


TALE    XXII. 


OF   WORLDLY   FEAR. 


AUGUSTINE  tells  us,  that  when  the  Egyp- 
tians formerly  deified  Isis  and  Serapis,  they 
proceeded  in  this  manner.  First,  they  made 
a  law,  that  whosoever  declared  them  to  be 
mortal,  or  so  much  as  expressed  a  doubt  rela- 
tive to  their  birth,  should  be  put  to  an  igno- 
minious death.  Then  they  erected  two  images  ; 
and  that  the  aforesaid  law  should  be  strictly 
observed,  they  placed  near  them,  in  every 
temple  dedicated  to  their  honour,  another  of 
diminutive  form,  having  a  fore-finger  laid  upon 
its  lips, — to  indicate  that  silence  was  indispen- 
sably required  of  those  who  entered  their  tem- 
ples. In  this  way  they  endeavoured  to  repress 
the  promulgation  of  truth. 
2 


OF   SPIRITUAL   MEDICINE.  109 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  these  Egyptians  are  all  world- 
ly-minded men,  who  would  deify  and  worship 
their  vices,  while  they  sedulously  hide  truth 
from  the  heart.  The  smaller  image,  is  Fear  of 
the  world,  which  is  ever  instrumental  in  the 
suppression  of  truth. 


TALE      XXIIL 


OF    SPIRITUAL   MEDICINE. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  relates,  that  an  ancient 
custom  formerly  prevailed,  in  compliance  with 
which,  emperors,  after  death,  were  laid  upon 
a  funeral  pile  and  burnt  j  and  their  ashes  de- 
posited in  an  urn.  But  it  happened  that  one 
of  them  died,  whose  heart  resisted  the  im- 
pression of  fire.  This  circumstance  created 


110  OF   SPIRITUAL   MEDICINE. 

the  utmost  astonishment,  and  all  the  rheto- 
ricians, and  other  wise  men  of  every  province, 
were  summoned  to  one  place.  The  question 
was  then  proposed  to  them,  and  they  thus 
answered  :  "  The  Emperor  died  intoxicated, 
and  through  the  influence  of  a  latent  poison, 
his  heart  cannot  be  consumed."  When  this 
was  understood,  they  drew  the  heart  from  the 
fire,  and  covered  it  with  theriaque  (22)  and 
immediately  the  poison  was  expelled.  The 
heart,  being  returned  to  the  flames,  was  soon 
reduced  to  ashes. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  men  are  thus  in  a  spiritual  sense. 
The  heart  is  impoisoned,  and  then  the  fire  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  will  not  touch  it.  The  the- 
riaque is  repentance,  which  removes  all  trans- 
gressions. 


OF   THE   SUGGESTIONS,    &C.  HI 


TALE    XXIV. 


OF   THE   SUGGESTIONS    OF   THE    DEVIL. 


THERE  was  a  celebrated  magician,  who  had  a 
very  beautiful  garden,  in  which  grew  flowers 
of  the  most  fragrant  smell,  and  fruits  of  the 
most  delicious  flavour.  In  short,  nothing  on 
earth  could  exceed  it.  But  he  invariable  re- 
fused admittance  to  all  except  to  fools,  or 
such  as  were  his  enemies.  When  suffered  to 
pass  in,  however,  their  wonder  was  extreme ; 
and  few  having  entered  it  wished  to  return. 
On  the  contrary,  the  delights  which  they 
experienced,  so  infatuated  their  minds,  that 
they  easily  yielded  to  the  demands  of  the  ma- 
gician, and  resigned  their  inheritances  to  him 
without  the  slightest  reserve.  The  fools,  of 
course,  believing  it  to  be  Paradise,  and  that 
the  flowers  and  fruits  were  of  immortal  growth, 


112  OF  THE   SUGGESTIONS,    &C. 

while  they  themselves  were  the  chosen  and 
happy  possessors  of  the  land,  gave  not  an- 
other thought  to  the  future.  They  luxuriated 
in  voluptuousness,  and  surrendered  the  whole 
heart  to  impure  gratification.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that  in  a  moment  of  sensual  in- 
toxication, the  magician  cut  them  off;  and 
thus,  through  the  instrumentality  of  a  fac- 
titious Eden,  perpetrated  the  foulest  enor- 
mities. (23) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  magician  is  the  world.  It 
supplies  what  is  called  wealth;  and  this, 
when  men  have  obtained,  they  close  their 
hand  upon  it,  and  believe  themselves  rich. 
Presently  they  open  their  hands,  and  the  trea- 
sure has  disappeared.  (24) 


OF   INGRATITUDE.  113 


TALE    XXV. 


OF   INGRATITUDE. 


A  CERTAIN  noble  lady  suffered  many  inju- 
ries from  a  tyrannical  king,  who  laid  waste  her 
domains.  When  the  particulars  of  it  were 
communicated  to  her,  her  tears  flowed  fast, 
and  her  heart  was  oppressed  with  bitterness. 
It  happened  that  a  pilgrim  visited  her,  and  re- 
mained there  for  some  time.  Observing  the 
poverty  to  which  she  had  been  reduced,  and 
feeling  compassion  for  her  distresses,  he  of- 
fered to  make  war  in  her  defence ;  on  condition 
that,  if  he  fell  in  battle,  his  staff  and  scrip 
should  be  retained  in  her  private  chamber,  as 
a  memorial  of  his  valour,  and  of  her  gratitude. 
She  faithfully  promised  compliance  with  his 
wishes  j  and  the  pilgrim,  hastening  to  attack 
the  tyrant,  obtained  a  splendid  victory.  But 


114  OF   INGRATITUDE. 

in  the  heat  of  the  contest,  he  was  transfixed 
by  an  arrow,  which  occasioned  his  death.  The 
lady  aware  of  this,  did  as  she  promised  :  the 
staff  and  scrip  were  suspended  in  her  chamber. 
Now  when  it  was  known  that  she  had  re- 
covered all  her  lost  possessions,  three  kings 
made  large'preparations  to  address,  and,  as  they 
hoped,  incline  her  to  become  the  wife  of  one 
of  them.  The  lady,  forewarned  of  the  intended 
honour,  adorned  herself  with  great  care,  and 
walked  forth  to  meet  them.  They  were  received 
according  to  their  dignity;  and  whilst  they 
remained  with  her,  she  fell  into  some  perplex- 
ity, and  said  to  herself,  "  If  these  three  kings 
enter  my  chamber,  it  will  disgrace  me  to  suffer 
the  pilgrim's  staff  and  scrip  to  remain  there. " 
She  commanded  them  to  be  taken  away ;  and 
thus  forgot  her  vows,  and  plainly  evinced  her 
ingratitude. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  lady  is  the  human  soul, 
and  the  tyrant  is  the  devil,  who  spoils  us  of 
our  heavenly  inheritance.  The  pilgrim  is 


OF   HUMILITY.  115 

Christ,  who  fights  for  and  redeems  us ;  but, 
forgetful  of  his  services,  we  receive  the  devil, 
the  world,  and  the  flesh,  into  the  chamber  of 
our  souls,  and  put  away  the  memorials  of  our 
Saviour's  love. 


TALE    XXVI. 


OF   HUMILITY. 


THERE  was  a  queen  who  dishonoured  her- 
self with  a  servant,  and  bore  him  a  son.  This 
son,  on  arriving  at  years  of  maturity,  prac- 
tised every  description  of  wickedness,  and  con- 
ducted himself  with  the  greatest  insolence  to- 
ward the  prince,  his  reputed  father.  The  prince, 
unable  to  account  for  such  perversion  of  mind, 
interrogated  the  mother  as  to  the  legitimacy 
of  her  child;  and  finding,  by  her  reluctant 
confession,  that  he  was  not  his  son,  though 


116  OF   HUMILITY. 

loth  to  deprive  him  of  the  kingdom,  he  or- 
dained that  his  dress,  for  the  time  to  come, 
should  be  of  a  different  texture  and  colour ; 
one  side  to  be  composed  of  the  most  ordinary 
materials,  and  the  other  of  the  most  valuable ; 
so  that  when  he  looked  upon  the  baser  por- 
tion, his  pride  might  be  abated,  and  the  vi- 
cious propensities,  in  which  he  had  indulged, 
relinquished ;  on  the  other  hand,  when  he 
surveyed  the  more  gorgeous  part,  his  hopes 
might  be  raised,  and  his  spirit  animated  to 
goodness.  By  this  judicious  device,  he  be- 
came remarkable  for  humility,  and  ever  after 
abandoned  his  dishonest  life. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  queen  is  any  one  who 
commits  a  mortal  sin.  The  worthless  side  of 
the  garment  is  our  fleshly  substance;  the 
other  is  the  soul  by  which  man  is  classed  with 
the  beings  of  heaven,  and  aspires  to  an  im- 
mortal existence. 


OF   JUST   RECOMPENCE.  117 


TALE    XXVII. 


OF   JUST   RECOMPENCE. 


A  VERY  rich  and  powerful  emperor  had  an 
only  daughter  of  uncommon  beauty.  She 
was  consigned  to  the  care  of  five  soldiers, 
who  were  commanded  to  be  constantly  in 
arms  ;  and  every  day  a  stated  sum  was  paid 
them  out  of  the  king's  treasury.  This  empe- 
ror had  a  seneschal  whom  he  greatly  favoured ; 
and  a  valuable  but  ferocious  dog,  w'hich  it 
was  necessary  to  confine  with  triple  chains. 
It  happened,  that  as  the  emperor  lay  in 
bed,  he  formed  a  resolution  to  proceed  to  the 
Holy  Land;  and  in  the  morning,  when  he 
arose,  sent  for  the  seneschal,  and  said,  "I 
am  about  to  undertake  an  expedition  to  Pa- 
lestine ;  to  your  vigilance  I  commit  my  only 
daughter  with  the  soldiers  of  her  guard.  The 


118  OF   JUST   EECOMPENCE. 

dog,  likewise,  which  I  specially  value,  I  en- 
trust to  your  care  j  and,  on  pain  of  instant 
death,  let  there  be  no  deficiency  in  attend- 
ance upon  my  daughter.  You  shall  supply 
the  soldiers  with  all  that  they  require ;  but 
observe  that  the  dog  is  securely  chained,  and 
fed  sparingly,  so  that  his  ferocity  may  abate." 
The  seneschal  approved  of  all  the  emperor's 
injunctions,  and  promised  faithfully  to  comply 
with  them ;  instead  of  which  he  acted  in  direct 
opposition.  The  dog  was  fed  with  the  most 
unsuitable  food,  and  not  guarded  as  he  ought 
to  have  been.  He  diminished  the  comforts, 
and  even  denied  the  necessaries  of  life  to  the 
lady.  He  robbed  the  soldiers  of  their  pay, 
who  being  needy  and  unemployed,  roamed 
over  the  country  in  great  distress.  As  for  the 
poor  girl,  forsaken  and  destitute,  she  passed 
from  her  chamber  into  the  court-yard  of  the 
hall  which  she  occupied,  and  seating  her- 
self upon  the  pavement,  gave  free  course  to 
her  sorrows.  Now  the  dog,  whose  savage 
nature  improper  ailment  had  augmented, 
burst,  by  a  sudden  and  violent  movement 
from  the  bonds  that  enchained  him,  and  tore 


OF   JUST   RECOMPENCE.  119 

her  limb  from  limb.  When  this  afflicting 
circumstance  was  known  in  the  kingdom,  it 
excited  universal  regret.  Messengers  were 
immediately  despatched  to  the  emperor,  who 
hastened  his  return  with  all  possible  expedi- 
tion. The  seneschal  was  summoned  before 
him,  and  asked  categorically  why  the  lady 
was  unprovided  for,  the  soldiers  unpaid,  and 
the  dog  improperly  fed,  contrary  to  his  ex- 
press command.  But  the  man  was  unable 
to  answer,  and  offered  not  the  least  excuse. 
The  torturers,  therefore,  were  called  in;  he 
was  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  thrown  into  a 
red-hot  furnace.  The  emperor's  decree  gave 
satisfaction  to  the  whole  empire.  (25) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ ;  the  fair  daughter  is  the  human  soul ; 
the  five  soldiers  are  the  five  senses,  and  the 
dog  is  carnal  affections,  which  disturb  and 
slay  the  spirit.  The  triple  chain  is  love  to 
God — the  fear  of  offending  him,  and  shame 
5 


120        OF   THE   EXECRABLE   DEVICES 

when  we  have  done  so.  The  seneschal  is  any 
man  to  whom  the  care  of  the  senses,  and  the 
guardianship  of  the  soul  is  committed. 


TALE    XXVIII. 


OF   THE   EXECRABLE   DEVICES   OF    OLD 
WOMEN. 


IN  the  kingdom  of  a  certain  empress  there 
lived  a  soldier  who  was  happily  espoused  to 
a  noble,  chaste  and  beautiful  wife.  It  hap- 
pened that  he  was  called  upon  to  take  a  long 
journey,  and  previous  to  his  departure  he 
said  to  the  lady — "  I  leave  you  no  guard  but 
your  own  discretion ;  I  believe  it  to  be  wholly 
sufficient."  He  then  embarked  with  his  at- 
tendants. Pleased  with  the  confidence  re- 
posed in  her,  she  continued  at  her  own  man- 
sion, in  the  daily  practice  of  every  virtue.  A 


OF   OLD   WOMEN.  121 

short  period  had  elapsed,  when  the  urgent 
entreaties  of  a  neighbour  prevailed  with  her 
to  appear  at  a  festival ;  where,  amongst  other 
guests,  was  a  youth,  upon  whom  the  excel- 
lence and  beauty  of  the  lady  made  a  deep 
impression.  He  became  violently  enamoured 
of  her,  and  despatched  various  emissaries  to 
declare  his  passion,  and  win  her  to  approve 
his  suit.  But  the  virtuous  lady  received  his 
advances  with  the  utmost  scorn,  and  vehe.- 
mently  reproached  him  for  his  dishonesty. 
This  untoward  repulse  greatly  disconcerted 
the  youth,  and  his  health  daily  declined.  It 
chanced,  that  on  one  occasion  he  went  sorrow- 
fully towards  the  church ;  and,  upon  the  way, 
an  old  woman  accosted  him,  who,  by  pre- 
tended sanctity  had  long  obtained  an  undue 
share  of  reverence  and  regard.  She  demanded 
the  cause  of  the  youth's  apparent  uneasiness. 
"  It  will  nothing  profit  thee  to  know,"  said 
he.  "  But,"  replied  the  old  woman,  "  it  may 
be  much  to  your  advantage:  discover  the 
wound,  and  it  is  not  impossible  but  a  remedy 
may  be  procured.  With  the  aid  of  Heaven  it 
may  easily  be  effected — shew  it  me."  Thus 
VOL.  i.  G 


122         OF   THE   EXECRABLE   DEVICES 

urged,  the  youth  made  known  to  her  his  love 
for  the  lady.  "  Is  that  all  ?"  said  the  bel- 
dam— "  return  to  your  home,  I  will  find  a 
medicine  that  shall  presently  relieve  you." 
Confiding  in  her  assurances,  he  went  his  way, 
and  the  other  commenced  her  devices. 

It  seems  she  possessed  a  little  dog,  which 
she  had  accustomed  to  fast  for  two  successive 
days ;  on  the  third,  she  made  bread  of  the 
flour  of  mustard,  and  placed  it  before  the 
pining  animal.  As  soon  as  it  had  tasted  the 
bread,  the  pungent  bitterness  caused  the  water 
to  spring  into  its  eyes,  and  the  whole  of  that 
day  tears  flowed  copiously  from  them.  The 
old  woman,  accompanied  by  her  dog,  posted 
to  the  house  of  the  lady  whom  the  young  man 
loved;  and  the  opinion  entertained  of  her 
sanctity  secured  her  an  honourable  and  gra- 
cious reception.  As  they  sat  together,  the 
lady  noticed  the  weeping  dog,  and  was  curi- 
ous to  ascertain  the  cause.  The  crone  told 
her  not  to  inquire,  for  that  it  involved  a  ca- 
lamity too  dreadful  to  communicate.  Such  a 
remark,  naturally  enough,  excited  still  more 
the  curiosity  of  the  fair  questioner,  and  she 


OF   OLD   WOMEN.  123 

earnestly  pressed  her  to  detail  the  story.  This 
was  what  the  old  hag  wanted  ,  and,  assum- 
ing a  hypocritical  whine,  she  said,  "  That 
little  dog  was  my  daughter  —  too  good  and 
excellent  for  this  world.  She  was  beloved 
by  a  young  man,  who,  thrown  into  despair  by 
her  cruelty,  perished  for  her  love.  My  daugh- 
ter, as  a  punishment  for  her  hard-hearted 
conduct,  was  suddenly  changed  into  the  little 
dog,  respecting  which  you  inquire/'  Saying 
these  words,  a  few  crocodile  tears  started  into 
her  eyes ;  and  she  continued,  "  Alas  !  how 
often  does  this  mute  memorial  recall  my  lost 
daughter,  once  so  beautiful  and  virtuous  : 
now  —  oh,  what  is  she  now?  degraded  from 
the  state  of  humanity,  she  exists  only  to  pine 
away  in  wretchedness,  and  waste  her  life  in 
tears.  She  can  receive  no  comfort ;  and  they 
who  would  administer  it,  can  but  weep  for  her 
distresses,  which  surely  are  without  a  paral- 
lel.1" The  lady,  astonished  and  terrified  at 
what  she  heard,  secretly  exclaimed — "  Alas  ! 
I  too  am  beloved ;  and  he  who  loves  me  is  in 
like  manner  at  the  point  of  death" — and  then, 
instigated  by  her  fears,  discovered  the  whole 

G2 


124    OF    THE   EXECRABLE   DEVICES,  &C. 

circumstance  to  the  old  woman,  who  imme- 
diately answered,  "  Beautiful  lady,  do  not 
disregard  the  anguish  of  this  young^  man  :  look 
upon  my  unhappy  daughter,  and  be  warned 
in  time.  As  she  is,  you  may  be."  "  Oh  !" 
returned  the  credulous  lady,  "  my  good  mo- 
ther, counsel  me ;  what  would  you  have  me 
do  ?  Not  for  worlds  would  I  become  as  she 
is."  "  Why  then,"  answered  the  treacherous 
old  woman,  "send  directly  for  the  youth, 
and  give  him  the  love  he  covets — thus,  you 
will  prevent  his  death,  and  your  own  irreme- 
diable calamity."  The  lady  blushed,  and 
said,  "  May  I  entreat  your  holiness  to  fetch 
him :  there  might  be  some  scandal  circulated 
if  another  went."  "  My  dear  daughter,"  said 
she,  "I  suffer  with  you,  and  will  presently 
bring  him  hither." — She  did  so ;  but  in  the 
night  the  husband  returned,  and  put  the  whole 
party  to  a  shameful  death.  Thus,  did  the 
wicked  project  of  an  old  woman  involve  many 
in  ruin.  (26) 


OF   CORRUPT  JUDGMENT.  125 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  soldier  is  Christ ;  the  wife 
is  the  soul — to  which  God  gave  free  will.  It 
is  invited  to  the  feast  of  carnal  pleasures, 
where  a  youth — that  is,  the  vanity  of  the 
world,  becomes  enamoured  of  it.  The  old 
woman  is  the  devil ;  the  dog,  the  hope  of  a 
long  life,  and  the  presumptuous  belief  of 
God's  clemency,  which  lead  us  to  deceive  and 
soothe  the  soul.  But  Christ  will  come  during 
the  night,  and  condemn  the  sinner  to  death. 


TALE    XXIX. 


OF   CORRUPT   JUDGMENT. 


AN    emperor    established   a   law    that    every 
judge   convicted   of  a   partial    administration 


126  OF   CORRUPT   JUDGMENT. 

of  justice,  should  undergo  the  severest  penal- 
ties. It  happened  that  a  certain  judge, 
bribed  by  a  large  sum,  gave  a  notoriously 
corrupt  decision.  This  circumstance  reaching 
the  ears  of  the  emperor,  he  commanded 
him  to  be  flayed.  The  sentence  was  imme- 
diately executed,  and  the  skin  of  the  culprit 
nailed  upon  the  seat  of  judgment,  as  an  awful 
warning  to  others  to  avoid  a  similar  offence. 
The  emperor  afterwards  bestowed  the  same 
dignity  upon  the  son  of  the  deceased  judge, 
and  on  presenting  the  appointment,  said, — 
"  Thou  wilt  sit  to  administer  justice  upon 
the  skin  of  thy  delinquent  sire  :  should  any 
one  incite  thee  to  do  evil,  remember  his  fate ; 
look  down  upon  the  coverture  of  the  judg- 
ment-seat; there  thou  wilt  find  matter  to 
uphold  thy  falling  virtue,  and  prevent  the 
commission  of  an  unjust  act." 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,   the   emperor  is   Christ ;    the 
unjust  judge  is  any  evil  man,  who  ought  to 


OF   OFFENCE   AND   JUDGMENT,         127 

be  excoriated — that  is,  stripped  of  all  bad 
dispositions  and  humours.  The  skin  nailed 
to  Lthe  seat  of  judgment,  is  Christ's  passion, 
which  is  a  memorial  to  us  of  what  our  conduct 
should  be. 


TALE    XXX. 


OF   OFFENCE   AND   JUDGMENT. 


A  CERTAIN  king  determined  on  the  occasion 
of  some  victory  to  appoint  three  especial 
honours,  and  an  equal  number  of  disagreeable 
accompaniments.  The  first  of  the  honors 
was,  that  the  people  should  meet  the  con- 
queror with  acclamations  and  every  other 
testimony  of  pleasure.  The  second,  that  all 
the  captives,  bound  hand  and  foot,  should 
attend  the  victor's  chariot.  The  third  honour 
was,  that,  enwrapped  in  the  mantle  of  Jupiter, 

G4 


128        OF   OFFENCE   AND   JUDGMENT. 

he  should  sit  upon  a  triumphal  car,  drawn  by 
four  white  horses,  and  be  thus  brought  to  the 
capitol.  But  lest  these  exalted  rewards 
should  swell  the  heart,  and  make  the  favourite 
of  fortune  forget  his  birth  and  mortal  cha- 
racter, three  grievances  were  attached  to 
them.  First,  a  slave  sat  on  his  right  hand  in 
the  chariot — which  served  to  hint,  that  po- 
verty and  unmerited  degradation  were  no 
bars  to  the  subsequent  attainment  of  the 
highest  dignities.  The  second  grievance  was, 
that  the  slave  should  inflict  upon  him  several 
severe  blows,  to  abate  the  haughtiness  which 
the  applause  of  his  countrymen  might  tend 
to  excite — at  the  same  time  saying  to  him  in 
Greek,  te  Tvwde  creavTov,"  that  is,  know  thyself, 
and  permit  not  thy  exaltation  to  render  thee 
proud.  Look  behind  thee,  and  remember 
that  thou  art  mortal.  The  third  grievance 
was  this,  that  free  licence  was  given,  upon 
that  day  of  triumph,  to  utter  the  most  galling 
reproaches,  and  the  most  cutting  sarcasms. 
(27) 


OF   THE   RIGOR   OF   DEATH.  129 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  our  heavenly 
Father,  and  the  conqueror,  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  who  has  obtained  a  glorious  victory 
over  sin.  The  first  honor  typifies  his  entry  into 
Jerusalem,  when  the  people  shouted  "  Hosanna 
to  the  Son  of  David."  The  second,  those  en- 
slaved by  sin.  The  third,  Christ's  divinity. 
The  four  white  horses  are  the  four  Evange- 
lists. The  slave,  is  the  worst  of  the  two 
robbers  crucified  with  bur  Lord.  The  second 
grievance  is  the  blows  he  received ;  and  the 
third,  the  indignities  with  which  he  was  over- 
whelmed. 


TALE  XXXI. 

OF   THE   RIGOR   OF   DEATH. 

WE  read,  that  at  the  death  of  Alexander,  a 
golden  sepulchre  was  constructed,  and  that  a 

G5 


130  OF  THE  RIGOR  OF  DEATH. 

number  of  philosophers  assembled  round  it. 
One  said  — "  Yesterday,  Alexander  made  a 
treasure  of  gold  :  and  now  gold  makes  a  trea- 
sure of  him/''  Another  observed — "  Yester- 
day, the  whole  world  was  not  enough  to  sa- 
tiate his  ambition ;  to-day,  three  or  four  ells 
of  cloth  are  more  than  sufficient."  A  third 
said — "  Yesterday,  Alexander  commanded  the 
people;  to-day  the  people  command  him." 
Another  said — "  Yesterday,  Alexander  could 
enfranchise  thousands ;  to-day  he  cannot  free 
himself  from  the  bonds  of  death/'  Another 
remarked — "  Yesterday,  he  pressed  the  earth ; 
to-day  it  oppresses  him."  "  Yesterday,"  con- 
tinued another,  "  All  men  feared  Alexander ; 
to-day  men  repute  him  nothing."  Another 
said,  "  Yesterday,  Alexander  had  a  multitude 
of  friends ;  to-day,  not  one."  Another  said, 
"  Yesterday,  Alexander  led  on  an  army ;  to- 
day, that  army  bears  him  to  the  grave/' 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  any  one  may  be  called  Alex- 
ander who  is  rich    and  worldly-minded;    and 


OF   GOOD   INSPIRATION.  131 

to  him  may  the  observations  of  the  philoso- 
phers be  truly  applied. 


TALE   XXXII. 


OF   GOOD   INSPIRATION. 


SENECA  mentions,  that  in  poisoned  bodies, 
on  account  of  the  malignancy  and  coldness 
of  the  poison,  no  worm  will  engender ;  but  if 
the  body  be  struck  with  lightning,  in  a  few 
days  it  will  be  full  of  them.  (28) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  men  are  poisoned  by  sin,  and 
then  they  produce  no  worm,  that  is,  no  vir- 
tue ;  but  struck  with  lightning,  that  is,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  they  are  fruitful  in  good  works. 
06 


132  OF  HANGING. 


TALE    XXXIII. 


OF   HANGING. 


VALERIUS  tells  us,  that  a  man  named  Pale- 
tinus  one  day  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  ;  and 
calling  his  son  and  his  neighbours  around 
him,  said,  "  Alas  !  alas  !  I  have  now  growing 
in  my  garden  a  fatal  tree,  on  which  my  first 
poor  wife  hung  herself,  then  my  second,  and 
after  that  my  third.  Have  I  not  therefore 
cause  for  the  wretchedness  I  exhibit  ? " 
"  Truly,"  said  one  who  was  called  Arrius, 
"I  marvel  that  you  should  weep  at  such  an 
unusual  instance  of  good  fortune  !  Give  me,  I 
pray  you,  two  or  three  sprigs  of  that  gentle 
tree,  which  I  will  divide  with  my  neighbours, 
and  thereby  afford  every  man  an  opportunity 
of  indulging  the  laudable  wishes  of  his  spouse." 
Paletinus  complied  with  his  friend's  request ; 


OF   CONSIDERATION   OF   LIFE.         133 

and  ever  after  found  this  remarkable  tree  the 
most  productive  part  of  his  estate.  (29) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  tree  is  the  cross  of  Christ. 
The  man's  three  wives  are,  pride,  lusts  of  the 
heart,  and  lusts  of  the  eyes,  which  ought  to 
be  thus  suspended  and  destroyed.  He  who 
solicited  a  part  of  the  tree  is  any  good  Chris- 
tian. 


TALE   XXXIV. 


OF   CONSIDERATION   OF   LIFE. 


WE  read  that  Alexander  the  Great  was  the 
disciple  of  Aristotle,  from  whose  instructions 
he  derived  the  greatest  advantage.  Amongst 
other  important  matters,  he  enquired  of  his 
master,  what  would  profit  himself,  and  at  the 
same  time  be  serviceable  to  others.  Aristotle 


134          OF   CONSIDERATION   OF   LIFE. 

answered,  "My  son,  hear  with  attention; 
and  if  you  retain  my  counsel,  you  will  arrive 
at  the  greatest  honors.  There  are  seven  dis- 
tinct points  to  be  regarded.  First,  that  you 
do  not  overcharge  the  balance.  Secondly, 
that  you  do  not  feed  a  fire  with  the  sword. 
Thirdly,  carp  not  at  the  crown ;  nor,  Fourthly, 
eat  the  heart  of  a  little  bird.  Fifthly,  when 
you  have  once  commenced  a  proper  under- 
taking, never  turn  from  it.  Sixthly,  walk  not 
in  the  high  road ;  and  Seventhly,  do  not  allow 
a  prating  swallow  to  possess  your  eaves." — 
The  King  carefully  considered  the  meaning  of 
these  enigmatical  directions ;  and  observing 
them,  experienced  their  utility  in  his  subse- 
quent life.  (30) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  balance  is  human  life ;  do 
not  overcharge  it,  but  weigh  every  thing  ac- 
curately, and  deliberate  upon  what  you  do. 
As  in  the  fable  of  the  vulture.  A  vulture 
swooping  upon  her  prey,  struck  it  with  her 
talons.  After  it  was  killed,  she  first  endea- 
voured to  carry  off  the  whole;  but  finding 
7 


OF   CONSIDERATION    OF   LIFE.          135 

this  beyond  her  power,  she  tore  off  as  much 
as  she  could  fly  away  with,  and  left  the  re- 
mainder behind.  "  Do  not  feed  a  fire  with 
the  sword/' — that  is,  provoke  not  anger  with 
sharp  words.  "  Carp  not  at  the  crown," — 
that  is,  respect  the  established  laws.  "  Eat 
not  the  heart  of  a  little  bird/'  which  being 
weak  and  timid,  becomes  not  the  condition  of 
a  Christian  man.  "  When  you  have  com- 
menced a  befitting  design,  do  not  turn  from 
it," — and  especially  having  begun  repentance, 
persevere  to  the  end.  A  viper,  wishing  to  es- 
pouse a  kind  of  eel  called  the  lamprey,  was 
rejected  by  the  latter,  because  of  the  poison 
it  conveyed.  The  viper,  determining  to  carry 
its  object,  retired  to  a  secret  place  and  cast 
up  the  venom;  but  after  the  nuptials  were 
solemnized,  went  back  to  the  place  where 
the  virus  was  deposited,  and  resumed  the 
whole.  In  like  manner  do  all  sinners.  They 
are  awhile  penitent,  but  soon  return  to  their 
vomit — that  is,  to  their  sins.  "  Walk  not  by 
the  high  road," — which  is  the  road  of  death. 
"  Permit  not  a  prating  swallow  to  possess 
your  eaves/' — that  is,  suffer  not  sin  to  dwell 
upon  thy  heart. 


136         OF   PEACE,    REFORMATION,    &C. 

TALE    XXXY. 

OF   PEACE,    REFORMATION,    &C. 


IN  the  Roman  annals,  we  read  that  it  was  cus- 
tomary, when  peace  was  established  between 
noblemen  who  had  been  at  variance,  to  ascend 
a  lofty  mountain,  and  take  with  them  a  lamb, 
which  they  sacrificed  in  pledge  of  complete 
re-union ;  thereby  intimating,  that  as  they 
then  poured  forth  the  blood  of  the  lamb,  so 
should  his  blood  be  poured  forth,  who  in- 
fringed the  smallest  article  of  that  solemn 
compact. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  noblemen  are  God  and  man  ; 
and  the  lamb  is  Christ. 


OF   THE   COURSE   OF   HUMAN   LIFE.    137 


TALE     XXXVI 


OF   THE   COURSE   OF   HUMAN   LIFE. 


WE  are  told  of  a  certain  King,  who,  beyond 
all  other  things,  wished  to  make  himself  ac- 
quainted with  the  nature  of  man.  Now,  in  a 
remote  part  of  his  kingdom,  there  dwelt  a 
famous  philosopher,  by  whose  great  science 
many  surprising  mysteries  were  expounded. 
When  the  King  heard  of  his  celebrity,  he  des- 
patched a  messenger  to  him  to  command  his 
immediate  appearance  at  court.  The  philo- 
sopher willingly  complied  with  the  King's 
wish,  and  commenced  his  journey.  On  reach- 
ing the  palace,  the  royal  enquirer  thus  ad- 
dressed him  :  "  Master,  I  have  heard  much 
of  your  extraordinary  wisdom,  and  profound 
research  into  natural  phenomena.  I  would 
myself  bear  testimony  to  the  truth  of  the 


138    OF   THE   COURSE   OF   HUMAN   LIFE. 

general  report.  In  the  first  place,  tell  me 
what  is  man?"  The  philosopher  answered, 
— (t  Man  is  a  wretched  thing  :  this  is  his  be- 
ginning, middle,  and  end.  There  is  no  truth 
so  apparent ;  and  therefore  Job  said,  '  Man 
that  is  born  of  a  woman  is  full  of  miseries/ 
Look  upon  him  at  his  birth ;  he  is  poor  and 
powerless.  In  the  middle  period  of  his  life, 
you  will  find  the  world  attacking  him,  nar- 
rowing his  comforts,  and  contributing  to  the 
eternal  reprobation  of  his  soul.  If  you  review 
the  end,  you  will  mark  the  earth  opening  to 
receive  him — it  closes,  and  he  is  gone  !  And 
then,  oh  King  !  what  becomes  of  the  pomp  of 
your  regal  establishment — of  the  pride  of  your 
worldly  glory  ?"— "  Master,"  said  the  King, 
"  I  will  ask  you  four  questions,  which  if  you 
resolve  well  and  wisely,  I  will  elevate  you  to 
wealth  and  honor.  My  first  demand  is,  What 
is  man  ?  My  second,  What  is  he  like  ?  The 
third,  Where  he  is?  and  the  fourth,  With 
whom  he  is  associated  ?"  The  philosopher 
replied,  fc  At  your  first  question,  my  lord,  I 
cannot  but  laugh.  You  ask,  '  What  is  man  ?' 
— Why,  what  is  he  but  the  slave  of  death — 


OF   THE   COURSE   OF   HUMAN   LIFE.    139 

the  guest  of  a  day — a  traveller  hastily  jour- 
neying to  a  distant  land  ?  He  is  a  slave, 
because  he  is  subject  to  the  bonds  of  the 
tomb  j  death  fetters  him,  sweeps  off  from  the 
scene,  even  the  memorials  of  his  name,  and 
causes  his  days  to  drop  away,  like  the  leaves 
in  autumn.  But  according  to  his  desert,  will 
he  be  rewarded  or  punished.  Again,  man  is 
the  '  guest  of  a  day/  for  he  lingers  a  few 
short  hours,  and  then  oblivion  covers  him  as 
with  a  garment.  He  is  also  a  '  traveller  jour- 
neying to  a  distant  land/  He  passes  on, 
sleepless  and  watchful,  with  scarce  a  moment 
given  him  to  snatch  the  means  of  subsistence, 
and  discharge  the  relative  duties  of  his  station. 
Death  hurries  him  away.  How  much,  there- 
fore, are  we  called  upon  to  provide  every  re- 
quisite for  the  journey — that  is,  the  virtues 
which  beseem  and  support  the  Christian.  To 
your  second  question,  '  What  man  is  like  ?' 
I  answer,  that  he  resembles  a  sheet  of  ice, 
which  the  heat  of  noon  certainly  and  rapidly 
dissolves.  Thus  man,  mixed  up  of  gross  and 
elementary  particles,  by  the  fervor  of  his 
own  infirmities,  quickly  falls  into  corruption. 


140  OF   THE   COURSE   OF   HUMAN   LIFE. 

Moreover,  lie  is  like  an  apple  hanging  upon 
its  parent  stem.  The  exterior  is  fair,  and 
promises  a  rich  maturity — but  there  is  a  worm 
preying  silently  within  :  ere  long  it  drops  to 
the  earth,  perforated  and  rotten  at  the  core*. 
Whence,  then,  arises  human  pride  ? — The  third 
query  is,  '  Where  is  man  ?'  I  reply,  in  a  state 
of  multifarious  war,  for  he  has  to  contend 
against  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil. 
Your  fourth  demand  was,  '  With  whom  is  he 
associated  ?'  With  seven  troublesome  com- 
panions, which  continually  beset  and  torment 
him.  These  are,  hunger,  thirst,  heat,  cold, 
weariness,  infirmity,  and  death.  Arm,  there- 
fore, the  soul  against  the  devil,  the  world,  and 
the  flesh,  whose  wars  are  divers  seductive 
temptations.  Various  preparations  are  need- 
ful for  an  effectual  resistance.  The  flesh  tempts 
us  with  voluptuousness;  the  world,  by  the 
gratifications  of  vanity — and  the  devil,  by  the 
suggestions  of  pride.  If,  then,  the  flesh 

*  "  An  evil  soul,  producing  holy  witness, 
Is  like  a  villain  with  a  smiling  cheek  ; 
*A  goodly  apple  rotten  at  the  heart." 

SHAKSPJBARE,  Merch.  of  Venice,  Act  I.  Sc.  3. 


OF  THE   COURSE   OF   HUMAN   LIFE.    141 

tempt  thee,  remember,  that  though  the  day 
and  the  hour  be  unknown,  it  must  soon  return 
into  its  primitive  dust;  and,  remember  yet 
more,  that  eternal  punishment  awaits  thy  de- 
reliction from  virtue.  So,  in  the  second  chap- 
ter of  the  book  of  Wisdom,  '  Our  body  shall 
become  dust  and  ashes/  It  follows,  that  after 
these  passages  of  mortal  life,  oblivion  shall  be 
our  portion — we,  and  our  deeds,  alike  shall 
be  forgotten.  The  recollection  of  this,  will 
often  oppose  a  barrier  to  temptation,  and  pre- 
vent its  clinging  with  fatal  tenacity  to  the 
heart.  If  the  vanity  of  the  world  allure  thee, 
reflect  upon  its  ingratitude,  and  thou  wilt  be 
little  desirous  of  becoming  bound  to  it.  And 
though  thou  shouldest  dedicate  thy  whole 
life  to  its  service,  it  will  permit  thee  to  carry 
off  nothing  but  thy  sins.  This  may  be  exem- 
plified by  the  fable  of  the  partridge.  A  par- 
tridge, anxious  for  the  safety  of  her  young,  on 
the  approach  of  a  sportsman,  ran  before  him, 
feigning  herself  wounded,  in  order  to  draw 
him  from  her  nest.  The  sportsman,  crediting 
this  appearance,  eagerly  followed.  But  she 
lured  him  on,  until  he  had  entirely  lost  sight 


142   OF  THE   COURSE   OF   HUMAN   LIFE. 

of  the  nest,  and  then  rapidly  flew  away.  Thus 
the  sportsman,  deceived  by  the  bird's  artifice, 
obtained  only  his  labour  for  his  pains.  (31) 
So  is  it  with  the  world.  The  sportsman  who 
approaches  the  nest,  is  the  good  Christian, 
who  acquires  food  and  clothing  by  the  sweat 
of  his  brow.  The  world  calls,  and  holds  out 
the  temptation,  which  his  frailty  cannot  re- 
sist. She  tells  him  that  if  he  follow  her,  he 
will  attain  the  desire  of  his  heart.  Thus  he  is 
gradually  removed  from  the  love  of  God,  and 
from  works  of  goodness.  Death  comes  and 
bears  on  his  pale  steed  the  deceived  and  mise- 
rable bankrupt.  See  how  the  world  rewards  its 
votaries  !  (32)  So,  in  the  second  Chapter  of 
James,  "  The  whole  world  is  placed  in  evil ;  is 
composed  of  the  pride  of  life/'  &c.  In  the 
third  place,  if  the  devil  tempt  thee,  remember 
Christ's  sorrows  and  sufferings, — a  thought 
which  pride  cannot  surely  resist.  "  Put  on/' 
says  the  Apostle,  "  the  whole  armour  of  God, 
that  ye  may  stand  fast."  Solinus  (33)  tells 
us  (speaking  of  the  wonders  of  the  world) 
that  Alexander  had  a  certain  horse  which  he 
called  Bucephalus.  When  this  animal  was 


OF   LIFTING   UP   THE   MIND.  143 

armed,  and  prepared  for  battle,  he  would  per- 
mit no  one  but  Alexander  to  mount;  and 
if  another  attempted  it,  he  presently  threw 
him.  But  in  the  trappings  of  peace,  he  made 
no  resistance,  mount  him  who  would.  Thus  a 
man,  armed  by  the  passion  of  our  Lord,  re- 
ceives none  into  his  heart  but  God ;  and  if 
the  temptations  of  the  devil  strive  to  sit 
there,  they  are  cast  violently  down.  Without 
this  armour,  it  is  open  to  every  temptation. 
Let  us  then  study  to  clothe  ourselves  with 
virtue  that  we  may  at  length  come  to  the  glory 
of  God. 


TALE    XXXVII. 


OF  LIFTING  UP  THE  MIND  TO  HEAVEN. 


PLINY    (34)    mentions   the   story  of  an   eagle 
that  had  built   her   nest   upon   a  lofty  rock, 


144  OF   LIFTING   UP   THE   MIND. 

whose  young  a  kind  of  serpent  called  Perna 
(35)  attempted  to  destroy.  But  finding  that 
they  were  beyond  her  reach,  she  stationed 
herself  to  windward  and  emitted  a  large  quan- 
tity of  poisonous  matter,  so  as  to  infect  the 
atmosphere  and  poison  the  young  birds.  But 
the  eagle,  led  by  the  unerring  power  of  in- 
stinct, took  this  precaution.  She  fetched  a 
peculiar  sort  of  stone  called  Achates,  (36) 
which  she  deposited  in  that  quarter  of  the 
nest,  which  was  opposite  to  the  wind;  and 
the  stone,  by  virtue  of  certain  occult  proper- 
ties which  it  possessed,  prevented  the  mali- 
cious intentions  of  the  serpent  from  taking 
effect. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  eagle  is  any  man  of  quick 
perception  and  aspiring  mind.  The  young 
birds  are  good  works,  which  the  devil — that 
is,  the  serpent  —  endeavours  to  destroy  by 
temptation.  The  rock  on  which  the  eagle 
built,  is  Christ. 


OF   PRECAUTION.  145 


TALE    XXXVIII. 


OF  THE  PRECAUTION  NECESSARY  TO 
PREVENT  ERROR. 


IN  the  reign  of  the  emperor  Henry  II.,  a  cer- 
tain city  was  besieged  by  its  enemies.  Before 
they  had  reached  its  walls,  a  dove  alighted  in 
the  city,  around  whose  neck  a  letter  was  sus- 
pended which  bore  the  following  inscription. 
"  The  generation  of  dogs  is  at  hand ;  it  will 
prove  a  quarrelsome  breed ;  procure  aid,  and 
defend  yourselves  resolutely  against  it." 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  dove  is  the  Holy  Spirit, 
which  thus  descended  on  Christ. 


VOL.  I. 


146  OF   RECONCILIATION. 


TALE    XXXIX. 


OF    RECONCILIATION    BETWEEN    GOD   AND 

MAN. 


THE  Roman  annals  say,  such  discord  existed 
between  two  brothers,  that  one  of  them  mali- 
ciously laid  waste  the  lands  of  the  other.  The 
emperor  Julius  (37)  having  heard  of  this,  de- 
termined to  punish  the  offender  capitally. 
The  latter,  therefore,  understanding  what  was 
meditated,  went  to  the  brother  whom  he  had 
injured,  and  besought  foigiveness ;  at  the 
same  time  requesting  that  he  would  screen 
him  from  the  emperor's  vengeance.  But  they 
who  were  present  at  the  interview,  rebuked 
him,  and  declared  that  he  deserved  punish- 
ment not  pardon.  To  which  he  made  the  fol- 
lowing reply.  "  That  prince  is  not  worthy  of 


OF   RECONCILIATION,  147 

regard  who  in  war  assumes  the  gentleness  of 
a  lamb,  but  in  peace  puts  on  the  ferocity  of  a 
lion*.  Although  my  brother  should  not  incline 
towards  me,  yet  will  I  endeavour  to  conciliate 
him.  For  the  injury  I  did  him  is  sufficiently 
avenged  in  my  repentance  and  bitterness  of 
heart/'  This  view  of  the  case  appeased  the 
emperor,  and  restored  peace  between  himself 
and  his  brother. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  these  two  brothers  are  the 
sons  of  God  and  man ;  between  whom  there 
is  discord  as  often  as  man  commits  a  mortal 
sin.  The  emperor  is  God. 

*  "  In  peace  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man, 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility : 
But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 
Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger." 

SHAKSPEARB,  Hen.  V.  Act  III.  Sc.  1. 


148  OF   TEMPTATION. 


TALE    XL. 


ON   THE   MEASURE    OF   TEMPTATION,    AND 
OF   SKILL. 


MACEOBIUS  relates,  (38)  that  a  certain  sol- 
dier, in  consequence  of  something  he  had  wit- 
nessed, suspected  his  wife  of  transferring  her 
affections  from  himself  to  another.  He  inter- 
rogated her  on  the  subject,  but  she  vehemently 
and  loudly  denied  it.  Not  satisfied  with  her 
asseverations,  the  soldier  enquired  for  a  cun- 
ning clerk;  and  having  found  such  as  he 
wanted,  he  proposed  to  him  the  question 
which  disturbed  his  rest.  The  clerk  answered, 
"  Unless  I  am  permitted  to  see  and  converse 
with  the  lady,  I  cannot  take  upon  me  to  de- 
cide." "  I  pray  you,  then,"  said  the  soldier, 
"dine  with  me  to-day,  and  I  -will  give  you 


OF   TEMPTATION.  149 

the  opportunity  you  require."  Accordingly 
the  clerk  went  to  the  soldier's  house  to  dinner. 
The  meal  being  concluded,  our  clerk  entered 
into  conversation  with  the  suspected  lady,  and 
spoke  to  her  on  various  topics.  This  done, 
he  took  hold  of  her  hand  ;  and,  as  if  acciden- 
tally, pressed  his  finger  upon  her  pulse. 
Then,  in  a  careless  tone,  adverting  to  the 
person  whom  she  was  presumed  to  love,  her 
pulse  immediately  quickened  to  a  surprizing 
degree,  and  acquired  a  feverish  heat.  By  and 
by  the  clerk  mentioned  her  husband,  and 
spoke  of  him  in  much  the  same  way  as  he  had 
done  of  the  other ;  when  the  motion  of  her 
pulse  abated,  and  its  heat  was  entirely  lost. 
Whereby  he  plainly  perceived  that  her  affec- 
tions were  alienated ;  and,  moreover,  that  they 
were  placed  upon  the  very  person  respecting 
whom  she  had  been  accused.  Thus,  by  the 
management  of  a  learned  clerk,  the  soldier 
ascertained  the  truth  of  his  suspicion. 


H3 


150     OF   THE   CHARITY   OF    OUR   LORD. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  soldier  is  Christ,  who, 
having  warred  in  our  behalf  against  the  devil, 
was  joined  to  the  soul  in  baptism,  which  is 
emblemed  by  the  wife.  That  wife  too  often 
regards  another — that  is,  the  world.  As  the 
motion  of  the  pulse  revealed  the  lady's  at- 
tachment, so  does  the  beating  of  the  heart, 
our  love  of  worldly  vanities. 


TALE    XLI. 


OF  THE  CONQUESTS   AND   CHARITY  OF  OUR 
LORD. 


COSDEAS,  king  of  the  Athenians,  (39)  having 
declared  war  against  the  Dorians,  assembled 


OF   THE   CHARITY    OF    OUR   LORD.     151 

an  army,  and  despatched  messengers  to  the 
oracle  of  Apollo,  to  ascertain  the  fortune  of 
the  engagement.  The  God  answered,  "  that 
the  party  whose  chief  fell  by  the  sword  of  the 
enemy,  should  win  the  field. "  The  Dorians, 
also,  understanding  the  response  of  the  ora- 
cle, strictly  enjoined  their  soldiers  to  spare 
the  life  of  Cosdras ;  but  the  king,  disguising 
himself  in  the  habit  of  a  slave,  cut  his  way 
into  the  heart  of  the  hostile  army.  The  enemy, 
perceiving  the  extreme  audacity  of  a  single 
man,  armed  only  with  a  sabre,  yet  fighting 
valiantly  and  effectively  in  the  very  midst  of 
them,  turned  all  their  attack  upon  the  warrior, 
and  with  some  difficulty  slew  him.  Thus,  by 
a  remarkable  effort  of  patriotism,  he  enabled 
his  country  to  triumph  over  its  enemies ;  and 
his  death,  on  one  side  so  fatal  in  its  conse- 
quences, was  bewailed  not  less  by  the  adverse 
host,  than  by  his  own  subjects. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,   thus   did  our  blessed  Lord,  by 

the  pre-determined  counsel  of  God,  die  to  libe- 

H  4 


152  OF  WANT  OF   CHARITY. 

rate  mankind  from  their  worst  enemies.  As 
Cosdras  changed  his  regal  state  for  the  humi- 
liating garb  of  a  servant,  so  did  Christ  put  on 
mortality,  and  by  his  death  triumphed  over 
our  demoniacal  foes. 


TALE    XLII. 


OF   WANT   OF   CHARITY. 


VALERIUS  records,  (40)  that  there  once  stood 
in  the  city  of  Rome  a  very  lofty  column,  on 
which  a  certain  person  inscribed  four  letters, 
three  times  repeated.  Three  P's,  three  S's, 
three  R/s,  and  three  Fs.  When  the  letters 
had  attracted  attention,  he  exclaimed,  "  Woe, 
woe,  to  the  eternal  city."  The  nobles,  hear- 
ing what  had  been  done,  said  to  him,  "  Mas- 
ter, let  us  understand  thy  conceit/''  He  an- 


OF    WANT   OF   CHARITY.  153 

swered,  the  meaning  of  the  inscription  is  this  : 
"  Pater  patrise  perditur."  [The  father  of  his 
country  is  lost.]  "  Sapientia  secum  sustolli- 
tur."  [Wisdom  has  departed  with  him.] 
"  Ruunt  reges  Romse."  [The  kings  of  Rome 
perish.]  "Ferro,  flamma,  fame/7  [By  the 
sword,  by  fire,  by  famine.]  The  event  after- 
wards fully  approved  the  veracity  of  the  pre- 
diction. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  spiritually  speaking,  the  fa- 
ther of  his  country  is  Charity,  which  is  the  re- 
sult of  love  to  God ;  when  that  is  lost,  wis- 
dom also  departs.  Hence,  the  kings  of  the 
earth  fall;  and  the  sword,  fire,  and  dearth, 
devour  mankind. 


H  5 


154  OF  CHRIST. 


TALE    XLIII. 


OF   CHRIST,    WHO,    BY  HIS   PASSION,    DELI- 
VERED  US    FROM    HELL. 


IN  the  middle  of  Rome,  there  was  once  an  im- 
mense chasm,  which  no  human  efforts  could 
fill  up.  The  gods  being  questioned  relative  to 
this  extraordinary  circumstance,  made  answer, 
"  That  unless  a  man  could  be  found  who  would 
voluntarily  commit  himself  to  the  gulf,  it 
would  remain  unclosed  for  ever/'  Proclama- 
tions were  sent  forth,  signifying  that  he  who 
was  willing  to  offer  himself  a  sacrifice  for  the 
good  of  his  country,  should  appear — but  not 
a  man  ventured  to  declare  himself.  At  length 
Marcus  Aurelius  (41)  said,  "  If  ye  will  permit 
me  to  live  as  I  please  during  the  space  of  one 
whole  year,  I  will  cheerfully  surrender  myself, 
at  the  end  of  it,  to  the  yawning  chasm."  The 


OF   ENVY.  155 

Romans  assented  with  joy,  and  Aurelius  in- 
dulged for  that  year  in  every  wish  of  his 
heart.  Then  mounting  a  noble  steed,  he  rode 
furiously  into  the  abyss,  which,  with  a  dread- 
ful crash,  immediately  closed  over  him. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  Rome  is  the  world,  in  the  cen- 
tre of  which,  before  the  nativity  of  Christ,  was 
the  gulf  of  hell,  yawning  for  our  immortal 
souls.  Christ  plunged  into  it,  and  by  so  doing 
ransomed  the  human  race. 


TALE    XLIY. 


OF   ENVY. 


BEFORE  Tiberius  ascended  the  throne  he  was 
remarkable   for  his    wisdom.      His  eloquence 

H6 


156  OF   ENVY. 

was  of  the  most  persuasive  character,  and  his 
military  operations  invariably  successful. 
But  when  he  became  emperor  his  nature  seem- 
ed to  have  undergone  a  perfect  revolution. 
All  martial  enterprizes  were  abandoned,  and 
the  nation  groaned  beneath  his  relentless  and 
persevering  tyranny.  He  put  to  death  his 
own  sons,  and  therefore  it  was  not  to  be  ex- 
pected that  he  should  spare  others.  The  pa- 
tricians threatened,  and  the  people  cursed 
him.  Formerly,  he  had  been  noted  for  tem- 
perance ;  but  now  he  showed  himself  the  most 
intemperate  of  a  dissolute  age;  insomuch 
that  he  obtained  the  surname  of  Bacchus.  (42) 
It  happened  that  a  certain  artificer  fabricated 
a  plate  of  glass,  which  being  exhibited  to  the 
emperor,  he  attempted,  but  ineffectually,  to 
break  it.  It  bent,  however,  beneath  his  efforts, 
and  the  artificer,  applying  a  hammer  and  work- 
ing upon  the  glass  as  upon  copper,  presently 
restored  it  to  its  level.  Tiberius  inquired  by 
what  art  this  was  effected ;  and  the  other  re- 
plied, that  it  was  a  secret  not  to  be  disclosed. 
Immediately  he  was  ordered  to  the  block,  the 
emperor  alleging,  that  if  such  an  art  should  be 


OF   THE   GOOD.  15Y 

practised,  gold  and  silver  would  be  reckoned 
as  nothing.  (43) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  Tiberius  is  any  man  who  in 
poverty  is  humble  and  virtuous,  but  raised  to 
affluence  forgets  every  honest  feeling.  The 
artificer  is  any  poor  man  who  presents  the  rich 
with  unacceptable  gifts. 


TALE    XLV. 


OF   THE    GOOD,    WHO   ALONE  WILL   ENTER 
THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN. 

THERE  was  a  wise  and  rich  king  who  possess- 
ed a  beloved,  but  not  a  loving  wife.  She  had 
three  illegitimate  sons  who  proved  ungrateful 


158  OF   THE   GOOD. 

and  rebellious  to  their  reputed  parent*.  In 
due  time  she  brought  forth  another  son,  whose 
legitimacy  was  undisputed-;  and  after  arriving 
at  a  good  old  age,  he  died,  and  was  buried  in 
the  royal  sepulchre  of  his  fathers.  But  the 
death  of  the  old  king  caused  great  strife 
amongst  his  surviving  sons,  about  the  right  of 
succession.  All  of  them  advanced  a  claim, 
and  none  would  relinquish  it  to  the  other ;  the 
three  first,  presuming  upon  their  priority  in 
birth,  and  the  last  upon  his  legitimacy.  In 
this  strait,  they  agreed  to  refer  the  absolute 
decision  of  their  cause  to  a  certain  honourable 
soldier  of  the  late  king.  When  this  person, 
therefore,  heard  their  difference,  he  said,  "  Fol- 
low my  advice,  and  it  will  greatly  benefit  you. 
Draw  from  its  sepulchre  the  body  of  the  de- 
ceased monarch ;  prepare,  each  of  you,  a  bow 
and  single  shaft,  and  whosoever  transfixes  the 
heart  of  his  father,  shall  obtain  the  kingdom." 
The  counsel  was  approved,  the  body  was  taken 
from  its  repository  and  bound  naked  to  a  tree. 

*  It  is  stated  in  the  first  book  of  Herodotus,  that  the  Persians 
considered  a  rebellious  son  undoubtedly  illegitimate.  This  is 
another  strong  proof  of  th^  oriental  structure  of  these  stories. 
See  Tale  XXVI. 


OF   THE    GOOD.  159 

The  arrow  of  the  first  son  wounded  the  king's 
right  hand — on  which,  as  if  the  contest  were 
determined,  they  proclaimed  him  heir  to  the 
throne.  But  the  second  arrow  went  nearer, 
and  entered  the  mouth ;  so  that  he  too  consi- 
dered himself  the  undoubted  lord  of  the  king- 
dom. However,  the  third  perforated  the  heart 
itself,  and  consequently  imagined  that  his 
claim  was  fully  decided,  and  his  succession 
sure.  It  now  came  to  the  turn  of  the  fourth 
and  last  son  to  shoot ;  but  instead  of  fixing  his 
shaft  to  the  bow-string,  and  preparing  for  the 
trial,  he  broke  forth  into  a  lamentable  cry, 
and  with  eyes  swimming  in  tears,  said,  "  Oh  ! 
my  poor  father  ;  have  I  then  lived  to  see  you 
the  victim  of  an  impious  contest  ?  Thine  own 
offspring  lacerate  thy  unconscious  clay  ? — 
Far,  oh !  far  be  it  from  me  to  strike  thy  vene- 
rated form,  whether  living  or  dead/'  No  sooner 
had  he  uttered  these  words,  than  the  nobles  of 
the  realm,  together  with  the  whole  people, 
unanimously  elected  him  to  the  throne ;  and 
depriving  the  three  barbarous  wretches  of 
their  rank  and  wealth,  expelled  them  for  ever, 
from  the  kingdom.  (44) 


160  OF   THE   GOOD. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  that  wise  and  rich  king  is  the 
King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords,  who  joined 
himself  to  our  flesh,  as  to  a  beloved  wife. 
But  going  after  other  gods,  it  forgot  the  love 
due  to  him  in  return,  and  brought  forth  by 
an  illicit  connection,  three  sons,  viz.,  Pagans, 
Jews,  and  Heretics.  The  first  wounded  the 
right  hand — that  is,  the  doctrine  of  Christ  by 
persecutions.  The  second,  the  mouth — when 
they  gave  Christ  vinegar  and  gall  to  drink; 
and  the  third,  wounded,  and  continue  to  wound 
the  heart, — while  they  strive,  by  every  sophis- 
tical objection,  to  deceive  the  faithful.  The 
fourth  son  is  any  good  Christian. 


OF   MORTAL   SINS.  161 


TALE    XLYI. 


OF   MORTAL    SINS. 

JULIUS  relates,  that  in  the  month  of  May  a 
certain  man  entered  a  grove,  in  which  stood 
seven  beautiful  trees  in  leaf.  The  leaves  so 
much  attracted  him,  that  he  collected  more 
than  he  had  strength  to  carry.  On  this,  three 
men  came  to  his  assistance,  who  led  away 
both  the  man  and  the  load  beneath  which  he 
laboured.  As  he  went  out  he  fell  into  a  deep 
pit,  and  the  extreme  weight  upon  his  shoul- 
ders sank  him  to  the  very  bottom. — The  same 
author  also  relates,  in  his  history  of  animals, 
that  if,  after  a  crow  had  built  her  nest,  you 
wished  to  hinder  her  from  hatching  her  eggs, 
place  between  the  bark  and  the  tree  a  quantity 
of  pounded  glass  * ;  and  as  long  as  it  remained 
in  that  situation,  she  would  never  bring  off 
her  young. 

*  Cineres  ;  ashes  of  glass. 
H8 


162  OF   THREE   KINGS. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  grove  is  the  world,  wherein 
are  many  trees,  pleasant  indeed  to  the  eye, 
but  putting  forth  only  mortal  sins.  With 
these,  man  loads  himself.  The  three  men, 
who  brought  assistance,  are  the  devil,  the 
world,  and  the  flesh  :  the  pit  is  hell. — Again, 
the  crow  is  the  devil ;  the  nest  the  heart ; 
which  he  too  frequently  inhabits.  The  pounded 
glass  is  the  remembrance  of  our  latter  end  : 
the  tree  is  the  soul,  and  the  bark  is  the  human 
body. 


TALE    XLYII. 

OF   THREE   KINGS. 

A  DANISH   king  had   the   greatest  reverence 
for  the   three  Eastern  potentates   (45)  whom 


OF   THREE    KINGS.  163 

the  star  led  to  Jerusalem  on  the  nativity  of 
our  blessed  Lord ;  and  he  was  usually  in  the 
habit  of  invoking  them  to  his  aid  upon  any 
dilemma.  The  pious  king  set  out  with  a 
great  company  to  the  place  where  the  bodies 
of  these  sainted  kings  are  preserved  with 
great  splendour,  taking  with  him  three  golden 
crowns,  constructed  after  a  wonderful  and 
royal  fashion.  As  he  returned  to  his  own 
dominions,  he  fell  into  a  deep  sleep ;  and 
dreamt  that  he  beheld  the  three  kings  bear- 
ing upon  their  heads  the  crowns  he  had 
lately  presented,  from  whence  issued  a  daz- 
zling lustre.  Each  appeared  to  address  him 
in  turn.  The  first,  and  the  older  of  the  three 
said,  "  My  brother,  thou  hast  happily  arrived 
hither,  and  happily  shalt  thou  return."  The 
next  said,  "  Thou  hast  offered  much,  but 
more  shalt  thou  carry  back  with  thee."  The 
third  said,  "  My  brother,  thou  art  faithful : 
therefore  with  us  shalt  thou  conjointly  reign 
in  heaven  for  a  period  of  thirty-three  years." 
Then  the  elder  presented  to  him  a  pyx  (46) 
filled  with  gold— " Receive,"  said  he,  "a. 
treasury  of  wisdom,  by  which  thou  wilt  judge 


164  OF   THREE   KINGS. 

thy  people  with  equity."  The  second  pre- 
sented a  pyx  of  myrrh,  and  said  "  Receive 
the  myrrh  of  prudence,  which  will  bridle  the 
deceitful  workings  of  the  flesh :  for  he  best 
governs,  who  is  master  of  himself."  The  third 
brought  a  pyx  full  of  frankincense,  saying, 
"  Receive  the  frankincense  of  devotion  and 
clemency ;  for  thus  shalt  thou  relieve  and 
soothe  the  wretched.  And  as  the  dew  moist- 
ens the  herbage  and  promotes  a  large  increase 
of  fertility,  so  the  clemency  of  a  king  lifts  him 
to  the  stars."  (47)  The  sleeping  monarch 
surprised  at  the  distinctness  and  singularity 
of  his  vision,  suddenly  awoke,  and  found  the 
pyxes,  with  their  rich  contents,  deposited  by 
his  side.  Returning  to  his  own  kingdom,  he 
devoutly  fulfilled  the  purport  of  his  dream, 
and  on  the  conclusion  of  this  transitory  life, 
enjoyed,  as  he  deserved,  an  everlasting 
throne, 

APPLICATION. 

My   beloved,   the  Danish  king  is  any  good 
Christian   who   brings   three   crowns  to  three 


OF   THE   END   OF   SINNEKS.  165 

holy  kings — that  is,  to  the  Father,  Son  and 
Holy  Ghost.  These  crowns  are,  faith,  hope, 
and  charity.  The  pyx  of  gold,  is  a  heart  full 
of  virtues  ;  that  of  myrrh,  typifies  repentance ; 
and  the  pyx  of  frankincense  denotes  the  Grace 
of  God. 


TALE   XL VIII. 


OF   THE    END   OF   SINNERS. 


DIONYSIUS  records,  that  when  Perillus  de- 
sired to  become  an  artificer  of  Phalaris,  a 
cruel  and  tyrannical  king  who  depopulated 
the  kingdom,  and  was  guilty  of  many  dread- 
ful excesses,  he  presented  to  him,  already  too 
well  skilled  in  cruelty,  a  brazen  bull,  which 
he  had  just  constructed.  In  one  of  its  sides 
there  was  a  secret  door,  by  which  those  who 
were  sentenced  should  enter  and  be  burnt  to 


166  OF   THE   END   OF   SINNERS. 

death.  The  idea  was,  that  the  sounds  pro- 
duced by  the  agony  of  the  sufferer  confined 
within,  should  resemble  the  roaring  of  a  bull ; 
and  thus,  while  nothing  human  struck  the 
ear,  the  mind  should  be  unimpressed  by  a 
feeling  of  mercy.  The  king  highly  applauded 
the  invention,  and  said,  "  Friend,  the  value 
of  thy  industry  is  yet  untried :  more  cruel 
even  than  the  people  account  me,  thou  thyself 
shalt  be  the  first  victim." — Indeed,  there  is  no 
law  more  equitable,  than  that  the  artificer  of 
death  should  perish  by  his  own  devices,  as 
Quidius  has  observed.  (48) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  sufferer  is  any  evil- worker 
who  will  finally  suffer  for  the  exertion  of  his 
iniquitous  practices. 


OF   THE   ILLUSIONS   OF  THE    DEVIL.      167 


TALE    XLTX. 


OF   THE   ILLUSIONS   OF   THE   DEVIL. 


PATJLUS,  the  historian  of  the  Lougobardi  (49) 
relates,  that  Conan,  king  of  the  Hungarians, 
while  besieging  a  castle  in  the  town  of  Ju- 
lius, (50)  perceived  upon  the  walls,  Rosinella, 
duchess  of  that  place,  a  very  beautiful  and 
accomplished  woman,  with  her  .whole  family, 
consisting  of  four  sons  and  two  daughters. 
He  entered  into  conversation  with  her,  and 
proposed,  that  if  she  would  marry  him,  he 
would  bestow  upon  her  the  castle  which  she 
was  defending.  The  lady  acquiesced ,-  but  the 
sons,  indignant  at  the  treacherous  conduct  of 
their  mother,  fled  together.  Conan,  however, 
adhering  to  his  promise,  married  the  duchess 
on  the  following  day.  But  the  next  morning 
after  the  nuptials,  he  delivered  her  to  twelve 


168     OF   THE   ILLUSIONS   OF   THE   DEVIL. 

Hungarian  soldiers  to  be  abused  and  mocked ; 
and  on  the  third  day,  he  commanded  her  to 
be  stabbed,  and  transfixed  from  the  throat 
downward,  observing,  "  that  a  wife  who  be- 
trayed her  country  to  gratify  her  evil  pas- 
sions, ought  to  possess  such  a  husband." 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  Con  an  is  the  devil,  who  be- 
sieged a  castle,  that  is,  the  human  heart. 
Rosinella  is  any  woman  who  wanders  from 
the  path  of  rectitude.  The  children  are  those 
virtues  which  leave  the  breast  when  evil  en- 
ters ;  and  the  Hungarian  soldiers  are  the  vices 
into  which  it  falls. 


OF  PRAISE  DUE  TO  A  JUST  JUDGE.       169 


TALE    L. 


OF  PRAISE  DUE  TO  A  JUST  JUDGE. 


VALERIUS  informs  us,  that  the  emperor  Zelon- 
gus  made  a  law,  by  which,  if  any  one  abused 
a  virgin  he  should  lose  both  his  eyes.  It 
happened  that  his  only  son  trespassed  in  this 
manner  with  the  daughter  of  a  certain  widow, 
who  immediately  hastened  into  the  presence 
of  the  emperor,  and  spoke  thus ;  "  My  Lord, 
you  have  righteously  decreed,  that  he  who 
denies  a  virgin  shall  lose  his  sight.  Your 
only  son  has  dishonoured  my  daughter ;  com- 
mand him  to  be  punished."  These  words 
greatly  distressed  the  emperor,  but  he  gave 
instant  orders  respecting  the  punishment  of 
his  son.  On  this,  two  noblemen  observed : 
"  The  young  man  is  your  only  child,  and  heir 

VOL.    I.  I 


170      OF  PRAISE  DUE  TO  A  JUST  JUDGE. 

to  the  throne :  it  were  impious,  if  for  this  he 
should  lose  his  eyes."  The  emperor  answered, 
"  Is  it  not  evident  to  you,  that  I  myself  or- 
dained this  very  law  ?  disgraceful  as  the  occa- 
sion is,  it  may  break  my  heart,  but  not  my 
resolution.  My  son  has  been  the  first  to 
transgress  the  law,  and  therefore,  shall  be  the 
first  to  undergo  the  penalty/'  "Sire,"  said 
the  noblemen,  "let  us  implore  you,  for  the 
sake  of  Heaven,  to  forgive  the  errors  of  your 
child."  Somewhat  subdued  by  the  urgency 
of  their  entreaties,  the  emperor,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  said,  "My  friends,  listen  to 
me  :  my  eyes  are  the  eyes  of  my  son ;  and  his, 
are  in  like  manner,  mine.  Pluck  out,  there- 
fore, my  right  eye,  and  let  him  surrender  his 
left;  thus,  the  law  will  be  satisfied."  The 
paternal  affection  of  the  emperor  was  indulg- 
ed, and  the  whole  kingdom  extolled  the  pru- 
dence and  justice  of  their  prince.  (51) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,   the   emperor  is   Christ;    the 
eyes  are  divine  grace,  and  eternal  happiness, 
2 


OF  EXTORTION.  171 

which  he  who  sinned  would  have  totally  lost, 
had  not  the  compassion  and  consequent  suf- 
ferings of  the  Son  of  God,  meliorated  the 
condign  punishment. 


TALE    LL 


OF   EXTORTION. 


JOSEPHUS  mentions,  that  Tiberius  Caesar,  in- 
quiring why  the  governors  of  provinces  re- 
mained so  long  in  office,  was  answered  [by 
an  example.  "I  have  seen/"  said  the  res- 
pondent, "  an  infirm  man  covered  with  ulcers, 
grievously  tormented  by  a  swarm  of  flies. 
When  asked  why  he  did  not  use  a  flap  and 
drive  off  his  tormentors,  he  answered,  '  The 
very  circumstance  which  you  think  would  re-' 
i2 


172  OF  EXTORTION. 

lieve  me,  would,  in  effect,  promote  tenfold 
suffering.  For  by  driving  away  the  flies  now 
saturated  with  my  blood,  I  should  afford  an 
opportunity  to  those  that  were  empty  and 
hungry  to  supply  their  place.  And  who 
doubts  that  the  biting  of  a  hungry  insect  is 
not  ten  thousand  times  more  painful  than  that 
of  one  completely  gorged, — unless  the  person 
attacked,  be  stone,  and  not  flesh.' "  (52) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  governors  who  are  already  en- 
riched by  plunder,  are  less  likely  to  continue 
their  oppression  than  they  who  are  poor  and 
needy. 


OF   FIDELITY.  173 


TALE    LIT. 


OF    FIDELITY. 


VALERIUS  (53)  records,  that  Fabius  redeemed 
certain  captives  by  the  promise  of  a  sum  of 
money;  which  when  the  senate  refused  to 
confirm,  he  sold  all  the  property  he  possessed, 
and  with  the  produce  paid  down  the  stipu- 
lated sum,  caring  less  to  be  thought  poor  in 
lands  than  poor  in  honesty. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  Fabius  is  Christ,  who  at  the 
expence  of  life,  ransomed  mankind  from  eter- 
nal death. 


i3 


174  OF   GOOD  RULERS. 


TALE    LIIL 


OF    GOOD    RULERS,    WHO    ARE    NOT   TO    BE 
CHANGED. 


VALERIUS  Maximus  (54)  states,  that  when 
all  the  Syracusans  desired  the  death  of  Dio- 
nysius,  king  of  Sicily,  a  single  woman  every 
morning  entreated  the  Gods  to  continue  his 
life  and  his  sovereignty.  Dionysius,  sur- 
prised at  this  solitary  exception,  inquired  the 
reason.  She  answered,  "  When  I  was  a  girl, 
and  governed  by  a  tyrant,  I  wished  for  his 
removal,  and  presently  we  obtained  a  worse 
instead.  Having  got  rid  of  him,  a  worse  still 
succeeded;  and  therefore,  under  the  justifiable 
apprehension  that  your  place  may  be  filled 
up  by  a  very  devil,  I  pray  earnestly  for  your 


OF   A    CELESTIAL    KINGDOM.  175 

longer    continuance*."       Dionysius,    hearing 
this,  gave  her  no  farther  trouble. 


APPLICATION. 


My  beloved,  be  not  desirous  of  change. 
God  is  merciful  and  gracious  —  be  content 
with  His  government. 


TALE    LIY. 


OF   A    CELESTIAL   KINGDOM. 


THE  emperor  Frederic  constructed  a  curious 
marble  gate  at  the  entrance  of  Capua.  It 
stood  above  a  fountain  of  running  water;  and 

*  The  sentiment  is  similar  to  that  of  Shakspeare. 
"  And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have, 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of." 

Hamlet,  Act  III.  Sc.  1. 
i  4 


176          OF   A   CELESTIAL   KINGDOM. 

upon  it,  the  statues  of  the  emperor  and  two 
of  his  judges  were  sculptured.  In  a  half 
circle  over  the  head  of  the  right-hand  judge 
was  inscribed  as  follows,  "He  who  regards 
his  own  safety  and  innocence,  let  him  enter 
here."  Similarly  over  the  head  of  the  left- 
hand  judge  appeared  this  scroll,  "  Banish- 
ment or  imprisonment  is  the  doom  of  the  en- 
vious." In  a  semi-circle  over  the  emperor's 
head,  was  written,  "  Those  whom  I  made  mi- 
serable, I  recompensed."  In  like  manner, 
above  the  gate  was  inscribed,  "In  Caesar's 
reign,  I  became  the  guardian  of  the  king- 
dom." (55) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  God ;  the  mar- 
ble gate  is  the  Church,  which  is  placed  above 
a  running  fountain — that  is,  above  the  world, 
which  fleets  like  a  water-course.  The  judges 
indicate  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  and  John 
the  Evangelist. 


OF   THE   REVOCATION,  &C.  177 


TALE    LV. 


OF   THE   REVOCATION   OF   A   BANISHED 
SINNER. 


A  CERTAIN  great  King  had  a  handsome  son, 
who  proved  himself,  on  all  occasions,  wise, 
bold,  and  courteous.  The  same  King  had 
four  daughters  also,  whose  names  were  Justice, . 
Truth,  Mercy,  and  Peace.  Now  the  King, 
being  very  desirous  of  procuring  for  his  son, 
a  suitable  partner,  despatched  a  messenger  in 
search  of  a  beautiful  virgin,  to  whom  he  should 
be  united.  At  last,  the  daughter  of  the  King 
of  Jerusalem  was  selected,  and  married  to  the 
young  Prince,  who  was  much  struck  with  the 
beauty  of  his  bride.  At  this  time,  there  was 
in  the  court,  a  servant  whom  the  King  prin- 
cipally trusted,  and  to  whom  he  had  confided 
the  care  of  one  of  his  provinces.  This  man, 
i  5 


178  OF   THE   REVOCATION   OF 

in  return  for  the  benefits  accumulated  upon 
him,  seduced  the  lady,  and  wasted  the  coun- 
try over  which  he  was  placed.  When  the 
husband,  therefore,  knew  of  his  wife's  infi- 
delity, he  was  overwhelmed  with  sorrow,  and 
repudiated  her  with  the  loss  of  every  honour. 
Thus  circumstanced,  she  fell  into  extreme  po- 
verty ;  and  reduced  to  despair  by  the  wretch- 
edness of  her  condition,  walked  from  place  to 
place,  begging  her  bread,  and  wishing  for  the 
death  that  came  not  to  her  relief.  But  at 
length,  the  husband,  compassionating  her 
distress,  sent  messengers  to  recall  her  to  his 
court.  "Come,  lady,"  they  said,  "come  in 
perfect  safety.  Thy  lord  wishes  thy  return; 
fear  nothing."  Yet  she  refused,  and  ex- 
claimed, "Tell  my  lord,  that  I  would  wil- 
lingly come  to  him,  but  I  am  unable  to  do  so. 
If  he  ask  why,  say,  in  compliance  with  an  im- 
perious law.  If  a  man  marry,  and  his  wife 
prove  an  adultress,  he  shall  give  her  a  writing 
of  divorcement ;  but  from  that  hour,  she  can 
be  no  longer  his  wife.  To  me  such  a  writing 
has  been  given — for,  alas  !  I  am  an  adultress  : 
therefore,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  return  to 


A  BANISHED   SINNER.  179 

my  lord." — "  But,"  replied  the  messengers, 
"  our  lord  is  greater  than  the  law  which  he 
made  himself:  and  since  he  is  disposed  to 
shew  mercy  towards  you,  we  repeat,  that  you 
may  properly  comply  with  his  wishes,  secure 
from  further  punishment  or  reproach." — "  How 
shall  I  know  that?"  said  the  lady;  "if  my 
beloved  would  assure  me  of  it;  if  he  would 
deign  to  come  and  kiss  me  with  the  kiss  of 
his  lip,  then  should  I  feel  certain  of  favor." 

When  the  messengers  communicated  to  the 
Prince  what  had  passed  between  them  and 
his  afflicted  wife,  he  called  together  the  noble- 
men of  his  kingdom,  and  deliberated  upon 
the  measures  it  became  him  to  adopt.  Af- 
ter mature  reflection,  they  determined  that 
some  man  of  experience  and  judgment,  should 
be  sent  to  persuade  her  to  return.  But  they 
who  answered  this  description,  refused  to 
undertake  the  office ;  and  the  husband,  in  his 
extremity,  despatched  once  more  the  messen- 
gers, whom  he  commissioned  to  speak  thus : 
"  What  can  I  do  for  you?  There  is  not  a 
man  in  my  dominions  who  will  execute  my 
wishes  \"  These  words  increased  the  anguish 
16 


180  OF   THE   REVOCATION   OF 

of  the  unfortunate  lady  ;  and  she  wept  bit- 
terly. Her  condition  was  related  to  the 
Prince,  and  he  earnestly  besought  his  father 
to  give  him  permission  to  bring  back  his  wife, 
and  to  assuage  her  sorrows.  The  King  ac- 
quiesced— "  Go,"  said  he,  "  go  now  in  thy 
might,  and  re-instate  her  in  the  seat  from 
which  she  has  fallen."  The  messengers  were 
then  ordered  to  return  and  apprize  her  of  the 
purposed  visit.  But  the  Prince's  elder  sister, 
that  is  to  say,  JUSTICE,  understanding  what 
was  meditated,  hastened  to  her  father,  and 
said)  "  My  lord,  art  thou  just  ?  and  is  thy 
judgment  righteous  ?  Is  it  fit  that  the  harlot 
should  again  become  my  brother's  wife  ?  You 
properly  sanctioned  the  writing  of  divorce- 
ment; therefore  to  the  law  let  her  appeal. 
And  if,  in  violation  of  justice,  you  act  thus, 
be  assured,  that  I  will  no  longer  be  accounted 
your  daughter."  The  second  sister,  who  was 
called  TRUTH,  then  said,  "  My  father,  she  has 
spoken  truly.  You  have  adjudged  this  wo- 
man an  adultress  :  if  you  permit  her  to  return, 
you  destroy  the  very  essence  of  truth,  and 
therefore  I  too,  will  no  more  fulfil  the  offices 


A   BANISHED   SINNER.  181 

of  a  daughter/'  But  the  third  sister,  called 
MERCY,  hearing  what  had  been  said  by  the 
other  two,  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  my  lord,  I  also 
am  thy  daughter :  forgive  the  offence  of  this 
repentant  woman.  If  thou  wilt  not,  thou 
abandonest  Mercy,  and  she  will  never  again 
acknowledge  thee  her  father."  The  fourth 
sister,  whose  name  was  PEACE,  terrified  at  the 
discord  between  her  parent  and  sisters,  fled 
to  a  remote  corner  of  the  earth. 

Justice  and  Truth,  however,  relinquished 
not  their  purpose  ;  and,  putting  into  their  fa- 
ther's hands  a  naked  sword,  said,  "  My  lord, 
we  present  to  you  the  sword  of  Justice.  Take  it, 
and  strike  the  harlot  who  has  wronged  our  bro- 
ther." But  Mercy,  rushing  forward,  snatched  the 
weapon  from  their  grasp.  "  Enough,  enough/' 
cried  she,  "  long  have  you  reigned,  and  your 
inclinations  have  been  your  only  law.  Now 
forbear ;  it  is  fit  that  my  wishes  should  some- 
times be  listened  to.  Remember,  that  I  too, 
am  the  daughter  of  the  King."  To  this  Justice 
made  answer,  "  Thou  hast  said  well :  we  have 
reigned  long :  and  long  will  we  preserve  our 


182  OF   THE   REVOCATION,  &C. 

authority.     But  why  should  there  be  this  dis- 
cord ?     Call   our   brother,  who  is  wiser  than 
us  all;  and  let  him  judge  between  us."     The 
proposal  was  assented  to.     They  shewed  him 
the   grounds    of    their    altercation,    and    ex- 
plained how  Justice  and  Truth  pertinaciously 
demanded    the  infliction   of   the    law,   while 
Mercy   and   Peace   sought  a  free  forgiveness. 
"My   beloved   sisters/'   said  the   Prince,    (( I 
am  little  satisfied  with  the  flight  of  my  sister 
Peace,   whom  ^our    unbeseeming    strife    has 
banished.     This   ought  not  to   be,   and   shall 
not.     And  as   for  my  adulterous  wife,  I  am 
prepared  to  undergo  her  punishment  myself." 
— "  If  this  be  your  determination,"  observed 
Justice,  "  we  cannot  oppose  you,  my  brother." 
Then  turning  towards  Mercy,  he  said,  "  Use 
your  endeavour  to  restore  my  wife.  But  should 
I  receive  her,  and  she  again  falls,  do  you  de- 
sign to   renew   your  intercession  ?" — "  Not," 
said   the   other,    "  unless   she  be  truly  peni- 
tent."    The  Prince   then  conducted  back  his 
sister  Peace,  and  caused  each  of  the  others  to 
embrace  her,  in  turn.     Concord  being  thus  re- 


REMEMBERING   DEATH.  183 

established,  he  hastened  to  his  erring  wife. 
She  was  received  with  every  honour,  and 
ended  her  days  in  peace. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  King  is  our  heavenly  Fa- 
ther ;  the  son  is  Christ ;  and  the  wife  is  the 
soul,  made  impure  by  connexion  with  the  devil. 


TALE    LYL 


OF  REMEMBERING   DEATH. 


A  CERTAIN  Prince  derived  great  pleasure 
from  the  chase.  It  happened,  on  one  occa- 
sion, that  a  merchant  accidentally  pursued 
the  same  path ;  and  observing  the  beauty,  af- 


184  OF   REMEMBERING   DEATH. 

f ability,  and  splendour  of  the  Prince,  he  said 
in  his  heart ;  "  Oh,  ye  heavenly  powers  !  that 
man  has  received  too  many  favors.  He  is 
handsome,  bold,  and  graceful;  and  even  his 
very  retinue  are  equipped  with  splendour  and 
comfort."  Under  the  impression  of  such  feel- 
ings, he  addressed  himself  to  one  of  the 
attendants,  "My  friend,"  said  he,  "is  your 
master  very  powerful  ?" — "  He  is,"  replied  the 
other,  "the  despotic  lord  of  an  extensive  ter- 
ritory ;  his  treasury  is  filled  with  silver  and 
gold;  and  his  slaves  are  exceedingly  nume- 
rous."— "God  has  been  bountiful  to  him/' 
said  the  merchant ;  "  he  is  more  beautiful 
than  any  one  I  ever  beheld;  and  his  power 
vouches  for  his  wisdom/'  Now  the  person 
with  whom  he  conversed,  related  all  that  the 
merchant  had  said,  to  his  master ;  and  as  the 
Prince  turned  homeward  about  the  hour  of 
vespers,  he  besought  the  merchant  to  tarry 
there  all  night.  The  entreaty  of  a  potentate 
is  a  command;  and  the  merchant,  therefore, 
though  with  some  reluctance,  entered  the 
palace.  The  prodigious  display  of  wealth ; 
the  number  of  beautiful  halls,  ornamented  in 


OF   REMEMBERING  DEATH.  185 

every  part  with  gold,  surprised  and  delighted 
him.  But  supper- time  approached,  and  the 
merchant,  by  express  command  of  the  Prince, 
was  seated  at  his  own  table.  This  honor  so 
enraptured  the  poor  tradesman,  that  he  se- 
cretly exclaimed,  "  Oh,  Heaven  !  the  Prince 
possesses  every  thing  that  his  heart  wishes; 
he  has  a  beautiful  wife,  fair  daughters,  and 
brave  sons.  His  family  establishment  is  too 
extensive."  As  he  thus  thought,  the  meat 
was  placed  before  him  ;  but  what  was  his  con- 
sternation to  observe  that  it  was  deposited 
in  the  skull  of  a  human  being,  and  served 
from  thence  to  the  Prince  and  his  guests  on 
silver  dishes.  Horror-struck  at  what  he  saw, 
the  merchant  felt  as  if  his  own  head  must 
presently  make  part  of  the  same  diabolical 
service,  and  frequently  did  he  internally  ejacu- 
late, "  I  am  a  dead  man  !  I  am  a  dead  man  I" 
In  the  meantime,  the  lady  of  the  man- 
sion comforted  him  as  much  as  she  could. 
The  night  passed  on,  and  he  was  shewn  into 
a  bed-chamber  hung  round  with  cauldrons ; 
and  in  one  corner  of  the  room  several  lights 
were  burning.  As  soon  as  he  had  entered, 


186  OF   REMEMBERING   DEATH. 

the  door  was  fastened  without ;  and  the  un- 
lucky merchant  was  left  a  solitary  prey  to  his 
own  increasing  terror.  Casting  his  eyes  around 
him  in  despair,  he  distinguished  two  dead 
men  hanging  by  the  arms  from  the  ceiling. 
This  shocking  circumstance  so  agonized  him, 
that  the  cold  sweat  dropped  from  his  brow,  and 
of  rest  he  was  morally  incapable.  In  the  morn- 
ing, he  got  up,  but  with  augmented  appre- 
hensions. "  Alas  \"  cried  he,  "  they  will 
assuredly  hang  me  by  the  side  of  these  mur- 
dered wretches.  What  will  become  of  me  ?" 
When  the  Prince  had  risen,  he  commanded 
the  merchant  to  be  brought  into  his  presence. 
"  Friend,"  said  he,  "  what  portion  of  my  fa- 
mily establishment  best  pleases  you?"  The 
man  answered,  ' '  I  am  well  pleased  with  every 
thing,  my  lord,  except  that  my  food  was 
served  to  me  out  of  a  human  head, — a  sight  so 
sickening  that  I  could  touch  nothing.  And 
when  I  would  have  slept,  my  repose  was  de- 
stroyed by  the  terrific  objects  which  were 
exhibited  to  me.  And,  therefore,  for  the  love 
of  God,  suffer  me  to  depart."  "  Friend,"  re- 
plied the  Prince,  "the  head  out  of  which 


OF   REMEMBERING   DEATH.  187 

you  were  served,  and  which  stood  exactly 
opposite  to  my  wife — my  beautiful,  but  wicked 
wife ! — is  the  head  of  a  certain  duke.  I  will 
tell  you  why  it  was  there.  He  whom  I  have 
punished  in  so  exemplary  a  manner,  I  per- 
ceived in  the  act  of  dishonoring  my  bed.  In- 
stantly prompted  by  an  uncontrollable  desire 
of  vengeance,  I  separated  his  head  from  his 
body.  To  remind  the  woman  of  her  shame, 
each  day,  I  command  this  memento  to  be 
placed  before  her,  in  the  hope  that  her  re- 
pentance and  punishment  may  equal  her 
crime.  But  the  misfortunes  of  my  family  end 
not  here;  a  son  of  the  deceased  duke  slew 
two  of  my  kindred,  whose  bodies  you  ob- 
served hanging  in  the  chamber  which  had 
been  appropriated  to  you.  Every  day,  I 
punctually  visit  their  corpses,  to  keep  alive 
the  fury  which  ought  to  animate  me  to  re- 
venge their  deaths.  And  recalling  the  adul- 
tery of  my  wife,  and  the  miserable  slaughter 
of  my  kindred,  I  feel  that  there  is  no  joy  re- 
served for  me  in  this  world.  Now  then  go  in 
peace ;  and  forget  not  the  useful  lesson  which 
I  have  wished  to  impart.  Remember  that 


188  OF   REMEMBERING   DEATH. 

external  appearances  are  deceitful;  and  that 
human  life,  in  its  most  gorgeous  condition,  is 
still  accompanied  by  the  revolting  emblems 
of  mortality."  The  merchant  gladly  availed 
himself  of  the  permission  to  depart;  and  re- 
turned with  greater  satisfaction  to  the  toils  of 
traffic.  (56) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  Prince  is  intended  to  re- 
present any  good  Christian,  whose  wife  is  the 
soul  that  sins,  and  being  punished,  remem- 
bers its  iniquity  and  amends.  The  adulterer 
is  the  devil ;  to  cut  off  his  head,  is  to  destroy 
our  vices.  The  slain  kinsmen  of  the  Prince, 
are  love  to  God  and  to  our  neighbour,  which 
the  sin  of  our  first  parent  annihilated.  The 
merchant  is  any  good  prelate  or  confessor,  to 
whom  the  truth  should  always  be  exposed. 


OF   PERFECT   LIFE.  189 


TALE   LVIL 


OF   PERFECT   LIFE. 


Titus  was  Emperor  of  Rome,  he  made 
a  decree  that  the  natal  day  of  his  first-born 
son  should  be  held  sacred;  and  that,  who- 
soever violated  it  by  any  kind  of  labor,  should 
be  put  to  death.  This  edict  being  promul- 
gated, he  called  Virgil  (57)  to  him  and  said, 
"  Good  friend,  I  have  established  a  certain 
law ;  but  as  offences  may  frequently  be  com- 
mitted without  being  discovered  by  the  minis- 
ters of  justice,  we  desire  you  to  frame  some 
curious  piece  of  art,  which  may  reveal  to  us 
every  transgressor  of  the  law/''  Virgil  ac- 
quiesced, and  immediately  commenced  his 
operations.  He  constructed  a  magic  statue, 
and  caused  it  to  be  erected  in  the  midst  of 
the  city.  By  virtue  of  the  secret  powers  with 


190  OF   PERFECT   LIFE. 

which   it  was    invested,   it   communicated   to 
the  Emperor  whatever  was  done  amiss.     And 
thus,  by  the  accusation  of  the  statue,  an  in- 
finite number  of  persons  were  convicted  and 
punished.     Now  there  was  a   certain  carpen- 
ter,  called   Focus,   who   pursued  his   occupa- 
tions every  day  alike.     Once,  as  he  lay  in  bed, 
his  thoughts  turned  upon  the   accusations  of 
the  statue,  and  the  multitudes  which  it  had 
caused  to  perish.     In  the  morning,  he  clothed 
himself,  and  proceeded   to  the  statue,  which 
he   addressed  in   the  following   manner:    "O 
statue !    statue !  because  of  thy  informations, 
many  of  our  citizens  have  been  apprehended 
and  slain.     I  vow  to  my  God,  that  if  thou  ac- 
cusest   me,  I  will  break  thy  head/'     Having 
so  said,  he   returned   home.     About  the  first 
hour,    the   Emperor,    as   he   was   wont,   des- 
patched sundry  messengers  to  the   statue,  to 
enquire  if  the  edict  had  been   strictly  com- 
plied with.     After  they  had  arrived,  and  de- 
livered the  Emperor's  pleasure,  the  statue  ex- 
claimed— " Friends,    look    up;    what   see   ye 
written  upon   my  forehead?"     They   looked, 
and  beheld  three  sentences  which  ran  thus : 


OF   PERFECT   LIFE.  191 

"  Times  are  altered.  Men  grow  worse.  He 
who  speaks  truth  has  his  head  broken." — 
"  Go,"  said  the  statue,  "  declare  to  his  ma- 
jesty what  you  have  seen  and  read."  The 
messengers  obeyed,  and  detailed  the  circum- 
stances as  they  had  happened. 

The  emperor,  therefore,  commanded  his  guard 
to  arm,  and  march  to  the  place  on  which  the 
statue  was  erected ;  and  he  further  ordered,  that 
if  any  one  presumed  to  molest  it,  they  should 
bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  drag  him  into  his 
presence.  The  soldiers  approached  the  statue 
and  said,  "  Our  Emperor  wills  you  to  declare 
the  name  of  the  scoundrel  who  threatens  you." 
The  statue  made  answer,  "It  is  Focus  the 
carpenter.  Every  day  he  violates  the  law, 
and  moreover,  menaces  me  with  a  broken 
head,  if  I  expose  him."  Immediately  Focus 
was  apprehended,  and  conducted  to  the  Em- 
peror, who  said,  "  Friend,  what  do  I  hear  of 
thee?  Why  hast  thou  broken  my  law?" — 
"  My  lord,"  answered  Focus,  "  I  cannot  keep 
it;  for  I  am  obliged  to  obtain  every  day 
eight  pennies,  which,  without  incessant  labor, 
I  have  not  the  means  of  acquiring." — "And 


192  OF   PERFECT   LIFE. 

why  eight  pennies  ?"  said  the  Emperor. 
' '  Every  day  through  the  year/'  returned  the 
carpenter,  "  I  am  bound  to  repay  two  pennies 
which  I  borrowed  in  my  youth ;  two  I  lend ; 
two  I  lose ;  and  two  I  spend." — "  For  what 
reason  do  you  this  ?"  asked  the  Emperor. 
"  My  lord/'  he  replied,  "  listen  to  me.  I  am 
bound,  each  day,  to  repay  two  pennies  to  my 
father ;  for,  when  I  was  a  boy,  my  father  ex- 
pended upon  me  daily,  the  like  sum.  Now 
he  is  poor,  and  needs  my  assistance,  and 
therefore,  I  return  what  I  borrowed  formerly. 
Two  other  pennies  I  lend  to  my  son,  who  is 
pursuing  his  studies ;  in  order,  that  if  by  any 
chance,  I  should  fall  into  poverty,  he  may 
restore  the  loan,  just  as  I  have  done  to  his 
grandfather.  Again,  I  lose  two  pennies  every 
day  on  my  wife ;  for  she  is  contradictious, 
wilful,  and  passionate.  Now,  because  of  this 
disposition,  I  account  whatsoever  is  given  to 
her,  entirely  lost.  Lastly,  two  other  pennies 
I  expend  upon  myself  in  meat  and  drink.  I 
cannot  do  with  less;  nor  can  I  obtain  them 
without  unremitting  labor.  You  now  know 
the- truth;  and,  I  pray  you,  judge  dispassion- 


OF   PERFECT   LIFE.  193 

ately  and  truly ." — "Friend,"  said  the  Empe- 
ror, "thou  hast  answered  well.  Go,  and 
labour  earnestly  in  thy  calling."  Soon  after 
this,  the  Emperor  died,  and  Focus  the  car- 
penter, on  account  of  his  singular  wisdom, 
was  elected  in  his  stead,  by  the  unanimous 
choice  of  the  whole  nation.  He  governed  as 
wisely  as  he  had  lived ;  and  at  his  death,  his 
picture,  bearing  on  the  head  eight  pennies, 
was  reposited  among  the  effigies  of  the  de- 
ceased Emperors. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  Emperor  is  God,  who  ap- 
pointed Sunday  as  a  day  of  rest.  By  Virgil 
is  typified  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  ordains  a 
preacher  to  declare  men's  virtues  and  vices. 
Focus  is  any  good  Christian  who  labors  dili- 
gently in  his  vocation,  and  performs  faithfully 
every  relative  duty. 


VOL.    I. 


194  OF   CONFESSION. 


TALE    LVIII. 


OF    CONFESSION. 


A '  CERTAIN  king,  named  Asmodeus,  estab- 
lished an  ordinance,  by  which  every  malefac- 
tor taken  and  brought  before  the  judge, 
should  distinctly  declare  three  truths,  against 
which  no  exception  could  be  taken ;  or  else  be 
capitally  condemned.  If,  however,  he  did 
this,  his  life  and  property  should  be  safe.  It 
chanced  that  a  certain  soldier  transgressed 
the  law  and  fled.  He  hid  himself  in  a  forest, 
and  there  committed  many  atrocities,  de- 
spoiling and  slaying  whomsoever  he  could 
lay  his  hands  upon.  When  the  judge  of  the 
district  ascertained  his  haunt,  he  ordered  the 
forest  to  be  surrounded,  and  the  soldier  to  be 
seized,  and  brought  bound  to  the  seat  of  judg- 


OF   CONFESSION.  195 

merit.  "  You  know  the  law/3  said  the  judge.  "  I 
do,"  returned  the  other :  "  if  I  declare  three 
unquestionable  truths,  I  shall  be  free ;  but  if 
not,  I  must  die."  "  True,"  replied  the  judge  : 
"  take  then  advantage  of  the  law's  clemency, 
or  undergo  the  punishment  it  awards,  without 
delay." — "  Cause  silence  to  be  kept,"  said 
the  soldier  undauntedly.  His  wish  being 
complied  with,  he  proceeded  in  the  following 
manner.  "  The  first  truth  is  this.  I  protest 
before  ye  all,  that  from  my  youth  up,  I  have 
been  a  bad  man."  The  judge,  hearing  this, 
said  to  the  by-standers,  "  He  says  true  ?" 
They  answered,  "Else,  he  had  not  now  been 
in  this  situation." — "  Go  on,  then,"  said  the 
judge:  "what  is  the  second  truth?" — "I 
like  not,"  exclaimed  he,  "  the  dangerous 
situation  in  which  I  stand." — "  Certainly," 
said  the  judge,  "we  may  credit  thee.  Now 
then  for  the  third  truth,  and  thou  hast  saved 
thy  life."— "Why,"  he  replied,  "if  I  once 
get  out  of  this  confounded  place,  I  will  never 
willingly  re-enter  it."  —  "Amen,"  said  the 
judge,  "thy  wit  hath  preserved  thee;  go  in 
peace."  And  thus  he  was  saved. 

K2 


196  OF   TOO   MUCH    PRIDE. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  Emperor  is  Christ.  The 
soldier  is  any  sinner ;  the  judge  is  a  wise  con- 
fessor. If  the  sinner  confess  the  truth  in 
such  a  manner  as  not  even  demons  can  object, 
he  shall  be  saved — that  is,  if  he  confess,  and 
repent. 


TALE  LIX. 


OF  TOO  MUCH  PBIDE  ;  AND  HOW  THE 
PROUD  ARE  FREQUENTLY  COMPELLED  TO 
ENDURE  SOME  NOTABLE  HUMILIATION. 


WHEN  Jovinian  was  emperor,  he  possessed 
very  great  power ;  and  as  he  lay  in  bed  reflect- 
ing upon  the  extent  of  his  dominions,  his 
heart  was  elated  to  an  extraordinary  degree. 


OF   TOO   MUCH   PRIDE.  197 

"  Is  there/'  he  impiously  asked,  "  Is  there 
any  other  god  than  me  1"  Amid  such  thoughts 
he  fell  asleep. 

In  the  morning,  he  reviewed  his  troops, 
and  said,  "  My  friends,  after  breakfast  we 
will  hunt."  Preparations  being  made  ac- 
cordingly, he  set  out  with  a  large  retinue. 
During  the  chase,  the  emperor  felt  such  ex- 
treme oppression  from  the  heat,  that  he  be- 
lieved his  very  existence  depended  upon  a  cold 
bath.  As  he  anxiously  looked  around,  he 
discovered  a  sheet  of  water  at  no  great  dis- 
tance. "  Remain  here/'  said  he  to  his  guard, 
"  until  I  have  refreshed  myself  in  yonder 
stream."  Then  spurring  his  steed,  he  rode 
hastily  to  the  edge  of  the  water.  Alighting, 
he  divested  himself  of  his  apparel,  and  expe- 
rienced the  greatest  pleasure  from  its  invigo- 
rating freshness  and  coolness.  But  whilst  he 
was  thus  employed,  a  person  similar  to  him  in 
every  respect — in  countenance  and  gesture — 
arrayed  himself  unperceived  in  the  emperor's 
dress,  and  then  mounting  his  horse,  rode  off 
to  the  attendants.  The  resemblance  to  the 

r 

sovereign  was  such,  that  no  doubt  was  enter- 

K    3 


198  OF    TOO   MUCH   PRIDE. 

tained  of  the  reality ;  and  straitway  command 
was  issued  for  their  return  to  the  palace. 

Jovinian,  however,  having  quitted  the  water, 
sought  in  every  possible  direction  for  his 
horse  and  clothes,  and  to  his  utter  astonish- 
ment, could  find  neither.  Vexed  beyond 
measure  at  the  circumstance  (for  he  was  com- 
pletely naked,  and  saw  no  one  near  to  assist 
him)  he  began  to  reflect  upon  what  course  he 
should  pursue.  "  Miserable  man  that  I  am," 
said  he,  "  to  what  a  strait  am  I  reduced  ! 
There  is,  I  remember,  a  knight  residing  close 
by ;  I  will  go  to  him,  and  command  his  atten- 
dance and  service.  I  wilj  then  ride  on  to 
the  palace  and  strictly  investigate  the  cause 
of  this  extraordinary  conduct.  Some  shall 
smart  for  it."  Jovinian  proceeded,  naked  and 
ashamed,  to  the  castle  of  the  aforesaid  knight, 
and  beat  loudly  at  the  gate.  The  porter,  with- 
out unclosing  the  wicket,  enquired  the  cause 
of  the  knocking.  "  Open  the  gate,"  said  the 
enraged  emperor,  "  and  you  will  see  whom  I 
am."  The  -gate  was  opened ;  and  the  porter, 
struck  with  the  strange  appearance  he  exhi- 
bited, replied,  "  In  the  name  of  all  that  is 


OF    TOO   MUCH    PRIDE.  199 

marvellous,  what  are  you  ?•"  "  I  am,"  said 
he,  es  Joviniau  your  emperor ;  go  to  your 
lord,  and  command  him  from  me  to  supply 
the  wants  of  his  sovereign.  I  have  lost  both 
horse  and  clothes/'  "  Infamous  ribald  !  " 
shouted  the  porter,  "  just  before  thy  approach, 
the  emperor  Jovinian,  accompanied  by  the 
officers  of  his  household,  entered  the  palace. 
My  lord  both  went  and  returned  with  him; 
and  but  even  now  sat  with  him  at  meat.  But 
because  thou  hast  called  thyself  the  emperor, 
however  madly,  my  lord  shall  know  of  thy 
presumption."  The  porter  entered,  and  related 
what  had  passed.  Jovinian  was  introduced, 
but  the  knight  retained  not  the  slightest  re- 
collection of  his  master,  although  the  emperor 
remembered  him.  "  Who  are  you  ?"  said  the 
former,  "  and  what  is  your  name  ?"  "  I  am 
the  emperor  Jovinian/'  rejoined  he ;  "  canst 
thou  have  forgotten  me  ?  At  such  a  time  I 
promoted  thee  to  a  military  command." 
"Why,  thou  most  audacious  scoundrel,"  said 
the  knight,  "  darest  thou  call  thyself  the  em- 
peror ?  I  rode  with  him  myself  to  the  palace, 
from  whence  I  am  this  moment  returned.  But 

K   i 


200  OF   TOO   MUCH   PRIDE. 

thy  impudence  shall  not  go  without  its  reward. 
Flog  him/'  said  he,  turning  to  his  servants. 
"  Flog  him  soundly,  and  drive  him  away." 
This  sentence  was  immediately  executed,  and 
the  poor  emperor,  bursting  into  a  convulsion 
of  tears,  exclaimed,  "  Oh  my  God,  is  it  possi- 
ble that  one  whom  I  have  so  much  honoured 
and  exalted  should  do  this  ?  Not  content  with 
pretending  ignorance  of  my  person,  he  orders 
these  merciless  villains  to  abuse  me  !  How- 
ever, it  will  not  be  long  unavenged.  There  is 
a  certain  duke,  one  of  my  privy-counsellors, 
to  whom  I  will  make  known  my  calamity.  At 
least,  he  will  enable  me  to  return  decently  to 
the  palace.''  To  him,  therefore,  Jovinian  pro- 
ceeded, and  the  gate  was  opened  at  his  knock. 
But  the  porter,  beholding  a  naked  man,  ex- 
claimed in  the  greatest  amaze,  "  Friend,  who 
are  you,  and  why  come  you  here  in  such  a 
guise  ?"  He  replied,  "  I  am  your  emperor  ; 
I  have  accidentally  lost  my  clothes  and  my 
horse,  and  I  have  come  for  succour  to  your 
lord.  Inform  the  duke,  therefore,  that  I  have 
business  with  him."  The  porter,  more  and 
more  astonished,  entered  the  hali,  and  com- 


OF   TOO   MUCH   PKIDE.  201 

municated  the  strange  intelligence  which  he 
had  received.  "  Bring  him  in/'  said  the  duke . 
He  was  brought  in,  but  neither  did  he  recog- 
nize the  person  of  the  emperor.  "  What  art 
thou  ?"  was  again  asked,  and  answered  as  be- 
fore. "  Poor  mad  wretch/'  said  the  duke, 
"  a  short  time  since,  I  returned  from  the  pa- 
lace, where  I  left  the  very  emperor  thou  as- 
sumest  to  be.  But  ignorant,  whether  thou  art 
more  fool  or  knave,  we  will  administer  such 
remedy  as  may  suit  both.  Carry  him  to  prison, 
and  feed  him  with  bread  and  water."  The 
command  was  no  sooner  delivered,  than  obey- 
ed; and  the  following  day  his  naked  body 
was  submitted  to  the  lash,  and  again  cast  into 
the  dungeon. 

Thus  afflicted,  he  gave  himself  up  to  the 
wretchedness  of  his  untoward  condition.  In 
the  agony  of  his  heart,  he  said,  "  What  shall 
I  do  ?  Oh  !  what  will  be  my  destiny  ?  I 
am  loaded  with  the  coarsest  contumely,  and 
exposed  to  the  malicious  observation  of  my 
people.  It  were  better  to  hasten  immediately 
to  my  palace,  and  there  discover  myself 
— my  wife  will  know  me;  surely,  my  wife 
K  5 


202  OF   TOO   MUCH   PRIDE. 

will  know  me  \"  Escaping,  therefore,  from 
his  confinement,  he  approached  the  palace  and 
beat  upon  the  gate.  The  same  questions  were 
repeated,  and  the  same  answers  returned. 
"Who  art  thou?"  said  the  porter.  "  It  is 
strange,"  replied  the  aggrieved  emperor,  "  It 
is  strange  that  thou  should  est  not  know  me  ; 
thou,  who  hast  served  me  so  long  \"  "  Served 
thee  .'"  returned  the  porter  indignantly,  "  thou 
liest  abominably.  I  have  served  none  but  the 
emperor."  "  Why,"  said  the  other,  "thou 
knowest  that  I  am  he.  Yet  though  you  dis- 
regard my  words,  go,  I  implore  you,  to  the 
empress ;  communicate  what  I  will  tell  thee, 
and  by  these  signs,  bid  her  send  the  impe- 
rial robes,  of  which  some  rogue  has  deprived 
me.  The  signs  I  tell  thee  of,  are  known  to 
none  but  to  ourselves."  "  In  verity,"  said  the 
porter,  "  thou  art  specially  mad  :  at  this  very 
moment  my  lord  sits  at  table  with  the  empress 
herself.  Nevertheless,  out  of  regard  for  thy 
singular  merits,  I  will  intimate  thy  declaration 
within ;  and  rest  assured,  thou  wilt  presently 
find  thyself  most  royally  beaten."  The  porter 
went  accordingly,  and  related  what  he  had 


OF   TOO   MUCH   PRIDE.  203 

heard.  But  the  empress  became  very  sorrow- 
ful and  said,  "  Oh,  my  lord,  what  am  I  to 
think  ?  The  most  hidden  passages  of  our  lives 
are  revealed  by  an  obscene  fellow  at  the  gate, 
and  repeated  to  me  by  the  porter.  •  On  the 
strength  of  which  he  declares  himself  the 
emperor,  and  my  espoused  lord  !"  When  the 
fictitious  monarch  was  apprized  of  this,  he 
commanded  him  to  be  brought  in.  He  had 
no  sooner  entered,  than  a  large  dog,  which 
couched  upon  the  hearth,  and  had  been  much 
cherished  by  him,  flew  at  his  throat,  and,  but 
for  timely  prevention,  would  have  killed  him. 
A  falcon  also,  seated  upon  her  perch,  no  sooner 
beheld  him,  than  she  broke  her  jesses  (57)  and 
flew  out  of  the  hall.  Then  the  pretended  em- 
peror, addressing  those  who  stood  about  him, 
said,  "  My  friends,  hear  what  I  will  ask  of 
yon  ribald.  Who  are  you  ?  and  what  do  you 
want  ?"  "  These  questions,"  said  the  suffer- 
ing man,  "  are  very  strange.  You  know  I  am 
the  emperor  and  master  of  this  place/'  The 
other,  turning  to  the  nobles  who  sat  or  stood 
at  the  table,  continued,  "  Tell  me,  on  your  al- 
legiance, which  of  us  two  is  your  lord  and 

K   6 


204  OF   TOO   MUCH   PKEDE. 

master  ?"  "  Your  majesty  asks  us  an  easy 
thing,"  replied  they,  "  and  need  not  to  remind 
us  of  our  allegiance.  That  obscene  wretch 
cannot  be  our  sovereign.  You  alone  are  he, 
whom  we  have  known  from  childhood;  and 
we  entreat  that  this  fellow  may  be  severely 
punished  as  a  warning  to  others  how  they  give 
scope  to  their  mad  presumption."  Then  turn- 
ing to  the  empress,  the  usurper  said,  "  Tell 
me,  my  lady,  on  the  faith  you  have  sworn,  do 
you  know  this  man  who  calls  himself  thy  lord 
and  emperor  ?"  She  answered,  "  my  lord, 
how  can  you  ask  such  a  question  ?  Have  I 
not  known  thee  more  than  thirty  years,  and 
borne  thee  many  children  ?  Yet,  at  one  thing 
I  do  admire.  How  can  this  fellow  have  ac- 
quired so  intimate  a  knowledge  of  what  has 
passed  between  us  ?" 

The  pretended  emperor  made  no  reply, 
but  addressing  the  real  one,  said,  "  Friend, 
how  darest  thou  to  call  thyself  emperor  ? 
We  sentence  thee,  for  this  unexampled  im- 
pudence, to  be  drawn,  without  loss  of  time, 
at  the  tail  of  a  horse.  And  if  thou  utterest 
the  same  words  again,  thou  shalt  be  doomed 
8 


OF   TOO   MUCH   PBIDE.  205 

to  an  ignominious  death."  He  then  com- 
manded his  guards  to  see  the  sentence  put 
in  force,  but  to  preserve  his  life.  The  unfor- 
tunate emperor  was  now  almost  distracted; 
and  urged  by  his  despair,  wished  vehemently 
for  death.  "  Why  was  I  born  ?"  he  exclaimed ; 
"  my  friends  shun  me ;  and  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren will  not  acknowledge  me.  But  there  is 
my  confessor,  still.  To  him  will  I  go;  per- 
haps he  will  recollect  me,  because  he  has  often 
received  my  confessions."  He  went  accord- 
ingly, and  knocked  at  the  window  of  his  cell. 
"Who  is  there?"  said  the  confessor.  "The 
Emperor  Jovinian,"  was  the  reply ;  "  open  the 
window,  and  I  will  speak  to  thee."  The  win- 
dow was  opened ;  but  no  sooner  had  he  looked 
out  than  he  closed  it  again  in  great  haste. 
"  Depart  from  me,"  said  he,  "  accursed  thing  : 
thou  art  not  the  emperor,  but  the  devil  incar- 
nate." This  completed  the  miseries  of  the 
persecuted  man ;  and  he  tore  his  hair,  and 
plucked  up  his  beard  by  the  roots.  "  Woe  is 
me,"  he  cried,  "  for  what  strange  doom  am  I 
reserved?"  At  this  crisis,  the  impious  words 
which,  in  the  arrogance  of  his  heart,  he  had 


206  OF   TOO   MUCH   PKIDE. 

uttered,  crossed  his  recollection.  Immediately 
he  beat  again  at  the  window  of  the  confessor's 
cell,  and  exclaimed,  "  For  the  love  of  him  who 
was  suspended  from  the  Cross,  hear  my  con- 
fession." The  recluse  opened  the  window, 
and  said,  "  I  will  do  this  with  pleasure ; "  and 
then  Jovinian  acquainted  him  with  every  par- 
ticular of  his  past  life ;  and  principally  how  he 
had  lifted  himself  up  against  his  Maker. 

The  confession  made,  and  absolution  given, 
the  recluse  looked  out  of  his  window,  and  di- 
rectly knew  him.  "  Blessed  be  the  most  high 
God,"  said  he,  "  now  do  I  know  thee.  I  have 
here  a  few  garments  :  clothe  thyself,  and  go  to 
the  palace.  I  trust  that  they  also  will  recog- 
nize thee/'  The  emperor  did  as  the  confessor 
directed.  The  porter  opened  the  gate,  and  made 
a  low  obeisance  to  him.  "  Dost  thou  know 
me?"  said  he;  "Very  well,  my  lord!"  replied 
the  menial ;  ' ( but  I  marvel  that  I  did  not  ob- 
serve you  go  out."  Entering  the  hall  of  his 
mansion,  Jovinian  was  received  by  all  with  a 
profound  reverence.  The  strange  emperor  was 
at  that  time  in  another  apartment  with  the 
queen;  and  a  certain  knight  going  to  him, 


OF   TOO   MUCH   PRIDE.  207 

said,  "My  lord,  there  is  one  in  the  hall  to 
whom  every  body  bends ;  he  so  much  resem- 
bles you,  that  we  know  not  which  is  the  em- 
peror." Hearing  this,  the  usurper  said  to  the 
empress,  "  go  and  see  if  you  know  him."  She 
went  and  returned  greatly  surprized  at  what 
she  saw.  "  Oh,  my  lord,"  said  she,  "  I  declare 
to  you  that  I  know  not  whom  to  trust. " 
"Then,"  returned  he,  "I  will  go  and  deter- 
mine you."  And  taking  her  hand,  he  led  her 
into  the  hall  and  placed  her  on  the  throne  be- 
side him.  Addressing  the  assembly,  he  said, 
"  By  the  oaths  you  have  taken,  declare  which 
of  us  is  your  emperor."  The  empress  answer- 
ed, "It  is  incumbent  on  me  to  speak  first; 
but  heaven  is  my  witness,  that  I  am  unable  to 
determine  which  is  he."  And  so  said  all. 
Then  the  feigned  emperor  spoke  thus,  "My 
friends,  hearken  !  That  man  is  your  king,  and 
your  lord.  He  exalted  himself  to  the  dispa- 
ragement of  his  Maker;  and  God,  therefore, 
scourged  and  hid  him  from  your  knowledge. 
But  his  repentance  removes  the  rod;  he  has 
now  made  ample  satisfaction,  and  again  let 
your  obedience  wait  upon  him.  Commend 


208  OF   TOO   MUCH   PRIDE. 

yourselves  to  the  protection  of  heaven."  So 
saying  he  disappeared.  The  emperor  gave 
thanks  to  God,  and  surrendering  to  him  all  his 
soul,  lived  happily  and  finished  his  days  in 
peace  (58) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  represents  any 
one  whom  the  pride  and  vanity  of  life  wholly 
engross.  The  knight  to  whom  Jovinian  first 
applied,  is  Reason;  which  ever  disclaims  the 
pomps  and  fooleries  of  life.  The  duke  is  con- 
science; the  savage  dog,  is  the  flesh,  which 
alarms  the  falcon,  that  is,  divine  Grace.  The 
wife  is  the  human  soul ;  the  clothes  in  which 
the  emperor  was  at  last  arrayed,  are  the  vir- 
tues that  befit  the  true  sovereign,  that  is,  the 
good  Christian. 


OF   AVARICE.  209 


TALE     LX. 


OF   AVARICE   AND   ITS   SUBTLETY. 


A  CERTAIN  king  had  an  only  daughter,  re- 
markable for  the  beauty  and  dignity  of  her 
person.  She  was  called  Rosamond ;  and  at 
the  early  age  of  ten  years,  she  proved  so  swift 
a  runner,  that  she  invariably  attained  the  goal 
before  her  competitor  had  proceeded  half  way. 
The  king  caused  it  to  be  proclaimed,  that 
whosoever  should  surpass  his  daughter  in 
speed,  should  marry  her,  and  succeed  to  the 
throne  :  but  in  the  event  of  a  failure  he  should 
lose  his  head.  This  latter  clause  was  wisely 
annexed  ;  for  the  lady  being  so  beautiful,  and 
the  reward  so  vast,  an  infinite  crowd  of  rivals 
would  have  eagerly  presented  themselves. 
And  even  with  the  heavy  penalty  before  them^ 
numbers  permitted  themselves  to  be  buoyed 
K  9 


210  OF   AVARICE. 

up  by  the  hope  of  success,  to  attempt,  and  to 
perish  in  the  attempt.     But  it  happened  that 
a   poor   man,    called   Abibas,   inhabited    that 
country,  who   thus   communed  with   himself. 
' '  I  am  very  poor,   and  of  a  base  extraction ; 
if  I  may  overcome  this  lady  and  marry  her, 
not  only  shall  I  be  promoted  myself,  but  all 
who  are  of  my  blood/'     The  incitement  was 
too  powerful  for  his  resistance,  and  he  deter- 
mined to  make  the  trial.     But  wiser  than  the 
rest,  he  took  the  three  following  precautions. 
First,  he  framed  a  curious  garland  of  roses, 
of  which   he   had   ascertained   that   the   lady 
was    devotedly   fond.      Then,  he   procured   a 
zone  of  the  finest  silk,  from  a  conviction  that 
most    damsels   were    partial   to   this    sort   of 
clothing.      And,   lastly,   he   bought   a   silken 
bag,   in   which    he    deposited   a   golden    ball 
bearing  the  following  inscription ;    "  Whoso- 
ever  plays   with   me,    shall   never   satiate   of 
play."     These  three  things  he  placed  in  his 
bosom,   and  knocked  at  the  palace-gate.     The 
porter  enquired  his   business ;    and  he  stated 
his  wish  in  the  usual  form. 

It  happened  that  the  princess  herself  stood 


OF   AVARICE.  211 

at  a  window  close  by,  and  heard  Abibas  ex- 
press his  intention  to  run  with  her.  Observing 
that  he  was  poor,  and  his  attire  threadbare  and 
rent,  she  despised  him  from  her  very  heart. 
However  she  prepared  to  run ;  and  every  thing 
being  in  readiness,  they  commenced  the  race. 
Abibas  would  soon  have  been  left  at  a  consi- 
derable distance;  but  taking  the  garland  of 
roses  from  its  respository,  he  skilfully  pitched  it 
upon  her  head.  Delighted  with  the  odour  and 
beauty  of  the  flowers,  the  young  lady  paused 
to  examine  it ;  and  Abibas  took  advantage  of 
her  forgetfulness  and  advanced  rapidly  toward 
the  goal.  This  awoke  her  to  a  recollection 
of  what  was  going  forward,  and  crying  aloud, 
"  Never  shall  the  daughter  of  a  prince  be 
united  to  this  miserable  clown,"  she  threw 
the  garland  from  her  into  a  deep  well,  and 
rushed  onward  like  a  whirlwind.  In  a  few 
moments  she  overtook  the  youth,  and  extend- 
ing her  hand,  struck  him  upon  the  shoulder, 
exclaiming,  "  Stop,  foolish  thing ;  hopes t 
thou  to  marry  a  princess  ?"  Just  as  she  was 
on  the  point  of  repassing  him,  he  drew  forth 
the  silken  girdle,  and  cast  it  at  her  feet.  The 


212  OF  AVARICE. 

temptation  again  proved  too  strong  for  her 
resolution,  and  she  stooped  to  gather  it. 
Overjoyed  at  the  beauty  of  its  texture  she 
must  bind  it  round  her  waist ;  and  whilst  she 
did  this,  Abibas  had  recovered  more  ground 
than  he  had  lost.  As  soon  as  the  fair  racer 
perceived  the  consequences  of  her  folly, 
she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  rending 
the  zone  asunder,  hurried  on.  Having  again 
overtaken  her  adversary,  she  seized  him  by 
the  arm,  striking  him  smartly  at  the  same 
time  :  "  Fool,  thou  shalt  not  marry  me  ;"  and 
immediately  she  ran  faster  than  before.  But 
Abibas,  springing  forward,  threw  at  her  feet 
the  bag  with  the  golden  ball.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  forbear  picking  it  up;  and  equally 
impossible  not  to  open  it  and  peep  at  its  con- 
tents. She  did  so;  but  reading  the  inscrip- 
tion, "  Who  plays  with  me  shall  never  satiate 
of  playing/'  she  played  so  much  and  so  long, 
that  Abibas  came  first  to  the  goal  and  married 
her.  (59) 


OF   REFLECTION.  213 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  Christ ;  the  daugh- 
ter is  the  soul,  and  Abibas  is  the  devil,  who 
provides  various  seductions  to  draw  us  from 
the  goal  of  heaven. 


TALE      LXC. 


OF   REFLECTION. 


THE  emperor  Claudius  had  an  only  daughter 
who  was  incomparably  beautiful.  As  he  lay 
in  bed,  he  reflected  seriously  upon  the  best 
mode  of  disposing  of  her.  "  If,"  thought  he, 
"  I  should  marry  her  to  a  rich  fool,  it  will  oc- 
casion her  death.  But  if  I  bestow  her  upon 
a  wise  man,  although  he  be  poor,  his  own  wit 
will  procure  him  riches  *." 

*  It  was  a  maxim  of  Themistocles,  that  his  daughter  had 
better  marry  a  man  without  an  estate,  than  an  estate  without 
a  man. 


214  OF   REFLECTION. 

Now  it  happened,  that  there  dwelt  in  the 
city  a  philosopher  called  Socrates,  whom  the 
king  very  greatly  esteemed.  This  person  was 
sent  for,  and  thus  addressed,  "  My  good 
friend,  I  design  to  espouse  you  to  my  only 
daughter."  Socrates,  overjoyed  at  the  pro- 
posal, expressed  his  gratitude  as  he  best  could. 
"  But,"  continued  the  emperor,  "  take  her 
with  this  condition ;  that  if  she  die  first,  you 
shall  not  survive  her."  The  philosopher  as- 
sented ;  the  nuptials  were  solemnized  with 
great  splendour,  and  for  a  length  of  time 
their  happiness  was  uninterrupted. 

But  at  last  she  sickened,  and  her  death 
was  hourly  expected.  This  deeply  afflict- 
ed Socrates,  and  he  retired  into  a  neigh- 
bouring forest  and  gave  free  course  to  his 
alarm.  Whilst  he  was  thus  occupied,  it 
chanced  that  king  Alexander  (60)  hunted  in 
the  same  forest ;  and  that  a  soldier  of  his 
guard  discerned  the  philosopher,  and  rode  up 
to  him.  "  Who  art  thou  ?"  asked  the  soldier. 
"  I  am/'  replied  he,  "  the  servant  of  my  mas- 
ter ;  and  he  who  is  the  servant  of  my  master 
is  the  lord  of  thine."  "How?"  cried  the 


OF   REFLECTION.  215 

other,  "  there  is  not  a  greater  person  in  the 
universe  than  he  whom  I  serve.  But  since 
you  are  pleased  to  say  otherwise,  I  will  pre- 
sently lead  you  to  him ;  and  we  will  hear  who 
thy  lord  is."  Accordingly  he  was  brought 
before  Alexander.  "  Friend/''  said  the  king, 
"  concerning  whom  dost  thou  say,  that  his 
servant  is  my  master  ?"  The  philosopher 
answered,  "  My  master  is  reason  ;  his  servant 
is  the  will.  Now  dost  thou  not  govern  thy 
kingdom  according  to  the  dictates  of  thy  will  ? 
Therefore,  thy  will  is  thy  master.  But  the 
will  is  the  servant  of  my  master.  So  that 
•what  I  said  is  true,  and  thou  canst  not  dis- 
prove it."  Alexander  wondering  at  the  man's 
wit,  candidly  answered  in  the  affirmative,  and 
ever  after  ruled  both  himself  and  his  king- 
dom by  the  laws  of  reason. 

Socrates,  however,  entered  farther  into  the 
forest,  and  wept  bitterly  over  the  expected 
decease  of  his  wife.  In  the  midst  of  his  dis- 
tress he  was  accosted  by  an  old  man  who  in- 
habited that  part  of  the  wood ;  "  Master/' 
said  he,  "  why  art  thou  afflicted  ?"  "  Alas  !" 
answered  the  other,  "  I  have  espoused  the 


216  OF   REFLECTION. 

daughter  of  an  emperor  upon  the  condition, 
that  if  she  die  I  should  die  with  her  :  she  is 
now  on  the  point  of  death,  and  my  life  there- 
fore will  certainly  be  required."  "  What !" 
said  the  old  man,  "  grievest  thou  for  this  ? 
Take  my  counsel,  and  thou  shalt  be  safe 
enough.  Thy  wife  is  of  royal  descent  ;  let 
her  besmear  her  breast  with  some  of  her  fa- 
ther's blood.  Then,  do  thou  search  in  the 
depths  of  this  forest,  where  thou  wilt  find 
three  herbs  :  of  one  of  them  make  a  beverage 
and  administer  it  to  her  ;  the  other  two  beat 
into  a  plaster,  and  apply  it  to  the  afflicted 
part.  If  my  instructions  are  exactly  attended 
to,  she  will  be  restored  to  perfect  health." 
Socrates  did  as  he  was  directed ;  and  his  wife 
presently  recovered.  When  the  emperor  knew 
how  he  had  striven  to  find  a  remedy  for  his 
wife's  disorder,  he  loaded  him  with  riches 
and  honours. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ ;  the  daughter  is  the  soul,  given  to  man 


OF   THE   BEAUTY,    &C.  217 

on  condition  that  should  it  be  destroyed  by 
sin,  he  also  should  lose  eternal  life.  The  priest 
is  the  church,  where  health  and  safety  may  be 
found.  The  old  man  is  a  wise  confessor, 
and  Alexander  is  the  world. 


.TALE    LXII. 


OF   THE    BEAUTY   OF   A   FAITHFUL    MIND. 


WHEN  Salus  was  emperor,  there  lived  a  very 
beautiful  woman  whose  name  was  Florentina. 
She  was  so  remarkably  handsome,  that  three 
kings  sought  her  love,  by  one  of  whom  she 
was  abused.  This  occasioned  a  war  between 
them,  and  great  numbers  of  men  fell  on  both 
sides.  But  the  nobles,  unwilling  to  see  so 
much  waste  of  blood,  interfered,  and  address- 
ing the  emperor,  bade  him  observe,  that  unless 
a  stop  was  put  to  the  virulent  animosity  which 
VOL.  i.  L 


218  OF   THE   BEAUTY   OF 

divided  them,  the  whole  kingdom  would  be 
annihilated.  The  emperor,  duly  considering 
what  had  been  said,  directed  letters,  impress- 
ed with  the  royal  signet,  to  be  sent  to  the  fair 
occasion  of  the  war ;  by  which,  without  delay, 
she  was  commanded  to  appear  before  him.  A 
herald  bore  the  mandate,  but  before  he  could 
deliver  it  she  died.  The  herald,  therefore, 
returned,  and  the  emperor,  very  much  regret- 
ting that  he  had  lost  sight  of  so  beautiful  a 
woman,  caused  all  the  best  artists  in  the  king- 
dom to  be  summoned  into  his  presence.  When 
they  were  assembled,  he  spoke  as  follows  : 
"  My  friends,  the  reason  that  I  have  sent  for 
you  is  this.  There  was  a  very  beautiful  woman, 
named  Florentina,  for  whose  love  a  great  num- 
ber of  men  have  lost  their  lives.  She  died  be- 
fore I  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  her.  Do 
ye  go,  therefore ;  paint  her  to  the  life,  as  she 
was  in  all  her  beauty.  Thus  shall  I  discover 
wherefore  so  many  were  sacrificed."  The  ar- 
tists, answered,  "  Your  majesty  wishes  a  thing 
which  is  very  difficult  to  execute.  Her  beauty 
was  so  surpassing,  that  not  all  the  artists  in 
the  world,  save  one,  would  be  able  to  do  her 


A   FAITHFUL   MIND.  219 

justice;    and   he  hides   himself  amongst  the 
mountains.     But  he  alone  can  perfectly  fulfil 
your  desires/5     On  receiving  this  information, 
messengers  were  despatched  in  pursuit  of  him. 
He  Tvas  soon  found,   and  brought  before  the 
curious   monarch,    who    commanded    him   to 
paint  Florentina  as  she  appeared  when  living ; 
and  if  he  did  it,  his  reward  should  be  royal. 
"Your   request   is    extremely   difficult/'    said 
the  painter,  "  nevertheless,  cause  all  the  beau- 
tiful women  in  your  kingdom  to  come  before 
me  for  an  hour  at  least,  and  I  will  do  as  you 
desire."      The   emperor   complied,    and   made 
them  stand  in  his  presence.     From  these  the 
artist   selected  four,    and   permitted  the   rest 
to  return   home.      Then   he    commenced   his 
labours.      First,   he   laid   on    a   coat    of    red 
colour ;  and  whatever  was  exquisitely  beautiful 
in  the  four  women,  that  he  copied  in  his  painting. 
In  this  manner  it  received  its  completion  ;  and 
when  the  emperor  beheld  it,  he  said,    "  Oh, 
Florentina,   had   you    lived   to    eternity,    you 
ought  to  have  loved  that  painter  who  has  re- 
presented you  in  so  much  beauty ." 
L2 


220  OF   THE   PLEASURES. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  God  ;  the  beau- 
tiful Florentina  is  the  soul.  The  three  kings, 
the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh.  The  nobles 
are  the  patriarchs  and  prophets,  who  were  the 
mediators  between  God  and  man.  The  pain- 
ters are  the  angels  and  men,  amongst  whom 
there  was  found  no  one  who  would  rescue  the 
soul  from  death.  The  artist  who  came  from 
the  mountains  is  Christ.  The  red  colour  is 
blood ;  the  four  women  are  existence,  growth, 
feeling,  and  understanding. 


TALE    LXIII. 


OF   THE   PLEASURES   OF   THIS   WORLD. 


THE  Emperor  Vespasian  had  a  daughter  called 
Aglaes,  whose  loveliness  was  greater  than  that 


OF  THIS   WORLD.  221 

of  all  other  women.  It  happened  that  as  she 
stood  opposite  to  him  on  a  certain  occasion,, 
he  considered  her  very  attentively.,  and  then 
addressed  her  as  follows  :  "  My  beloved 
daughter,  thy  beauty  merits  a  loftier  title  than 
thou  hast  yet  received.  I  will  change  thy 
name  :  henceforward,  be  thou  called  the  LADY 
OF  COMFORT,  in  sign  that  whosoever  looks 
upon  thee  in  sorrow,  may  depart  in  joy." 

Now  the  emperor  possessed,  near  his  palace, 
a  delicious  garden,  in  which  he  frequently 
walked.  Proclamation  was  made,  that  whoso- 
ever wished  to  marry  his  daughter,  should  come 
to  the  palace  and  remain  in  this  garden  the 
space]of  three  or  four  days  ;  when  they  quitted 
it,  the  ceremony  should  take  place.  Immense 
crowds  were  allured  by  the  apparently  easy 
terms  of  ike  notice ;  they  entered  the  garden, 
but  were  never  again  seen.  Not  one  of  them 
returned.  But  a  certain  knight,  who  dwelt  in 
some  remote  country,  hearing  of  the  condi- 
tions by  which  the  daughter  of  a  great  king 
might  be  espoused,  came  to  the  gate  of  the  pa- 
lace and  demanded  entrance.  On  being  intro- 
duced to  the  emperor,  he  spoke  thus :  "I  hear  it 
L  3 


222  OF   THE   PLEASURES 

commonly  reported,  my  lord,  that  whoever 
enters  your  garden  shall  espouse  your  daugh- 
ter. For  this  purpose  I  come."  "  Enter 
then/'  said  the  emperor ;  "  on  thy  return  thou 
shalt  marry  her."  "  But/'  added  the  knight, 
"  I  solicit  one  boon  of  your  majesty.  Before 
I  enter  the  garden,  I  would  entreat  an  oppor- 
tunity of  conversing  a  short  time  with  the 
lady."  "  I  have  no  objection  to  that,"  said  the 
emperor.  She  was  called,  and  the  knight  ac- 
costed her  in  these  words.  "  Fair  damsel, 
thou  hast  been  called  the  Lady  of  Comfort) 
because  every  one  who  enters  thy  presence 
sorrowful,  returns  contented  and  happy.  I, 
therefore,  approach  the  sad  and  desolate — 
give  me  the  means  to  leave  thee  in  happiness  : 
many  have  entered  the  garden,  but  never 
any  re-appeared.  If  the  same  chance  happen 
to  me — alas !  that  I  should  have  sought  thee 
in  marriage."  "I  will  tell  thee  the  truth," 
said  the  lady,  "  and  convert  thy  unhappiness 
into  pleasure.  In  that  garden  there  is  an 
enormous  lion  which  devours  every  one  who 
enters  with  the  hope  of  marrying  me.  Arm 
thyself,  therefore,  cap-a-pee,  and  cover  your 


OF    THIS   WORLD.  223 

armour  with  gummy  flax.  As  soon  as  you 
have  entered  the  garden  the  lion  will  rush  to- 
ward you  ;  attack  him  manfully,  and  when  you 
are  weary,  leave  him.  Then  will  he  instantly 
seize  you  by  the  arm  or  leg ;  but  in  so  doing, 
the  flax  will  adhere  to  his  teeth,  and  he  will  be 
unable  to  hurt  you.  As  soon  as  you  perceive 
this,,  unsheath  your  sword  and  separate  his 
head  from  his  body.  Besides  the  ferocious 
animal  I  have  described,  there  is  another  dan- 
ger to  be  overcome.  There  is  but  one  entrance, 
and  so  intricate  are  the  labyrinths,  that  egress 
is  nearly  impossible  without  assistance.  But 
here  also  I  will  befriend  you.  Take  this  ball 
of  thread,  and  attach  one  of  the  ends  to  the 
gate  as  you  enter,  and  retaining  the  line,  pass 
into  the  garden.  But,  as  you  love  your  life, 
beware  that  you  lose  not  the  thread."  (61) 

The  knight  exactly  observed  all  these  instruc- 
tions. Having  armed  himself,  he  entered  the 
garden;  and  the  lion,  with  open  mouth,  rushed 
forward  to  devour  him.  He  defended  himself 
resolutely;  and  when  his  strength  failed  he 
leapt  a  few  paces  back.  Then,  as  the  lady  had 
said,  the  lion  seized  upon  the  knight's  arm ; 

L4 


224  OF   THE   PLEASURES,    &C. 

but  entangling  his  teeth  in  the  flax,  he  did 
him  no  injury;  and  the  sword  presently  put  an 
end  to  the  combat.  Unhappily,  however,  he 
let  go  the  thread,  and  in  great  tribulation 
wandered  about  the  garden  for  three  days  dili- 
gently seeking  the  lost  clue.  Towards  night  he 
discovered  it,  and  with  no  small  joy,  hastened 
back  to  the  gate.  Then  loosening  the  thread,  he 
bent  his  way  to  the  presence  of  the  emperor ; 
and  in  due  time  the  LADY  OF  COMFORT  be- 
came his  wife.  (62) 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  Christ;  the 
lady  of  comfort,  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
The  garden,  is  the  world;  the  Jion,  the  devil. 
The  ball  of  thread,  represents  baptism,  by 
which  we  enter  into  the  world. 


OF    THE    INCARNATION.  22,3 


TALE    LXIV. 


OF   THE   INCARNATION   OF.  OUR    LORD. 


A  CERTAIN  king  was  remarkable  for  three 
qualities.  Firstly,  he  was  braver  than  all  men ; 
secondly,  he  was  wiser;  and  lastly,  more 
beautiful.  He  lived  a  long  time  unmarried ; 
and  his  counsellors  would  persuade  him  to 
take  a  wife.  "  My  friends,"  said  he,  "  it  is 
clear  to  you  that  I  am  rich  and  powerful 
enough ;  and  therefore  want  not  wealth.  Go, 
then,  through  town  and  country,  and  seek  me 
out  a  beautiful  and  wise  virgin  ;  and  if  ye  can. 
find  such  a  one,  however  poor  she  may  be,  I 
will  marry  her."  The  command  was  obeyed; 
they  proceeded  on  their  search,  until  at  last 
they  discovered  a  lady  of  royal  extraction 
with  the  qualifications  desired.  But  the  king 
was  not  so  easily  satisfied,  and  determined  to 
L5 


226  OF  THE   INCARNATION. 

put  her  wisdom  to  the  test.  He  sent  to  the 
lady  by  a  herald  a  piece  of  linen  cloth,  three 
inches  square;  and  bade  her  contrive  to 
make  for  him  a  shirt  exactly  fitted  to  his 
body.  "  Then/'  added  he,  "  she  shall  be  my 
wife."  The  messenger,  thus  commissioned, 
departed  on  his  errand,  and  respectfully  pre- 
sented the  cloth,  with  the  request  of  the  king. 
"  How  can  I  comply  with  it,"  exclaimed  the 
lady,  "  when  the  cloth  is  but  three  inches 
square?  It  is  impossible  to  make  a  shirt  of 
that ;  but  bring  me  a  vessel  in  which  I  may 
work,  and  I  promise  to  make  the  shirt  long 
enough  for  the  body."  The  messenger  re- 
turned with  the  reply  of  the  virgin,  and 
the  king  immediately  sent  a  sumptuous 
vessel,  by  means  of  which  she  extended 
the  cloth  to  the  required  size,  and  completed 
the  shirt.  Whereupon  the  wise  king  married 
her. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  God ;  the  virgin, 
the  mother  of  Christ ;  who  was  also  the  chosen 
2 


OF  THE  CUBE  OF  THE  SOUL.    227 

vessel.  By  the  messenger,  is  meant  Gabriel. 
The  cloth,  is  the  Grace  of  God,  which,  by  pro- 
per care  and  labour,  is  made  sufficient  for 
man's  salvation. 


TALE    LXY. 


OF  THE   CUKE   OF   THE   SOUL. 


A  KING  once  undertook  a  journey  from  one 
state  to  another.  After  much  travel,  he  came 
to  a  certain  cross,  which  was  covered  with  in- 
scriptions. On  one  side  was  written,  "Oh, 
king,  if  you  ride  this  way,  you  yourself  will 
find  good  entertainment,  but  your  horse  will 
get  nothing  to  eat."  On  another  part  ap- 
peared as  follows :  "  If  you  ride  this  road, 
your  horse  will  be  admirably  attended  to,  but 
you  will  get  nothing  for  yourself."  Again,  on  a 

L6 


228         OF   THE   CUBE   OF   THE   SOUL. 

third  place  was  inscribed  :  "  If  you  walk  this 
path,  you  will  find  entertainment  both  for 
yourself  and  horse;  but  before  you  depart, 
you  will  be  miserably  beaten."  On  a  fourth 
part  of  the  cross  it  was  said :  "  If  you  walk 
this  way,  they  will  serve  you  diligently,  but 
they  will  detain  your  horse,  and  oblige  you 
to  proceed  the  rest  of  your  journey  on 
foot."  When  the  king  had  read  the  inscrip- 
tions, he  began,  to  consider  which  of  the  evils 
he  should  chuse.  He  determined  at  length 
upon  the  first ;  "  For/'  said  he  learnedly,  "  I 
shall  fare  very  well  myself,  though  my  horse 
starve ;  and  the  night  will  soon  pass  away."  On 
this,  he  struck  the  spurs  into  his  horse ;  and 
arrived  at  the  castle  of  a  knight  who  entreated 
him  courteously,  but  gave  his  steed  little  or 
nothing.  In  the  morning,  he  rode  on  to  his 
own  palace,  and  related  all  that  he  had  seen. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  any  good  Christian, 
who  journeys  for  the  safety  of  his  soul.     The 


OF   CONSTANCY.  229 

horse  which  he  rides  is  the  body,  composed 
of  the  four  elements.  The  cross  is  conscience, 
which  points  out  the  way,  and  explains  the 
consequences  attending  it. 


TALE    LXVI. 


OF   CONSTANCY. 


THERE  once  lived  a  king  who  had  a  beautiful 
and  beloved  daughter.  After  his  death,  she 
succeeded  to  the  throne,  but  being  young  and 
unprotected,  a  certain  tyrannical  duke  came 
to  her,  and,  by  means  of  large  promises,  won 
her  to  dishonor.  When  his  iniquitous  pur- 
pose was  accomplished,  the  girl  wept  bit- 
terly; and  soon  after  the  tyrant  expelled  her 
from  the  inheritance.  Thus  reduced  from 
the  splendours  of  royalty,  to  the  lowest  state 


230  OF  CONSTANCY. 

of  wretchedness,  she  solicited  alms  of  the 
passengers.  It  happened  that  as  she  sat 
weeping  by  the  way  side,  a  certain  knight 
passed  by,  and  observing  her  great  beauty, 
became  enamoured  of  her.  "Fair  lady," 
said  he,  "what  are  you?"  "I.  am,"  replied 
the  weeping  girl,  "  the  only  daughter  of  a 
king,  after  whose  death,  a  tyrant  seduced  and 
abused  me,  and  then  deprived  me  of  my  in- 
heritance." "Well,"  returned  the  knight, 
"are  you  willing  to  marry  me?"  "Oh!  my 
lord,"  exclaimed  she,  "  I  desjre  it  beyond  any 
thing  that  could  happen."  "Then  plight  me 
your  faith,"  said  the  knight ;  "  promise  to  re- 
ceive no  one  for  your  husband  but  me,  and  I 
will  make  war  upon  the  tyrant,  and  reinstate 
you  in  your  possessions.  But  if  I  fall  in  the 
conflict,  I  entreat  you  to  retain  my  bloody 
arms  under  your  care,  in  testimony  of  affec- 
tion ;  that  in  case  any  one  hereafter  shall  de- 
sire your  love,  you  may  remember  the  proof 
I  have  given  of  my  attachment  and  devotion 
to  your  service."  "  I  promise  faithfully,"  re- 
turned she,  <e  to  comply  with  your  wishes : 
but,  oh !  may  your  life  be  safe  as  my  affec- 


OF   CONSTANCY.  231 

tion!"  The  knight  therefore  armed  himself, 
and  proceeded  to  engage  the  tyrant,  who  had 
heard  of  his  intention,  and  prepared  for  the 
attack.  The  soldier,  however,  overcame  him, 
and  cut  off  his  head :  but,  receiving  a  mortal 
wound,  he  died  on  the  third  day.  The  lady 
bewailed  his  death,  and  hung  up  his  bloody 
armour  in  her  hall.  She  visited  it  frequently, 
and  washed  it  with  bitter  tears.  Many  noble- 
men sought  to  espouse  her,  and  made  magni- 
ficent promises ;  but  invariably  before  return- 
ing an  answer,  she  entered  the  hall  of  the 
bloody  armour,  and  surveying  it  stedfastly, 
exclaimed,  amid  abundance  of  tears,,  "  Oh ! 
thou,  who  devotedst  thyself  to  death  for  one 
so  unworthy,  and  restoredst  me  my  kingdom  ! — 
far  be  it  from  me  to  abjure  my  plighted  faith." 
Then  returning  to  those  who  sought,  her  love, 
she  declared  her  resolution,  never  to  unite 
herself  with  another,  but  to  remain  single  to 
the  end  of  her  life.  And  so  it  was  done*. 


*  See  Tule  XXV.,  which  differs  but  little. 


232  OF   EXCUSES   WHICH   ARE 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  our  heavenly  Fa- 
ther: and  the  daughter  is  the  soul  seduced 
by  the  devil.  The  wayside  is  the  world.  The 
soldier  who  rode  past,  is  the  Son  of  God;  the 
bloody  armour  is  his  death  and  passion. 


TALE    LXVIL 


OF   EXCUSES   WHICH   ARE   NOT   TO   BE 
ADMITTED    IN   EXTREME    CASES. 


THE  emperor  Maximilian  was  renowned  for  the 
wisdom  of  his  government.  In  his  reign, 
there  lived  two  knights,  the  one  wise  and  the 
other  foolish,  but  who  had  a  mutual  regard 
for  each  other.  "  Let  us  make  an  agreement," 
said  the  wise  knight,  "which  will  be  advan- 
tageous to  both.  The  other  assented,  and  by 


NOT   TO   BE   ADMITTED.  233 

the  direction  of  his  friend,  proceeded  to  draw 
blood  from  his  right  arm.  " I"  said  the  latter, 
"  will  drink  of  thy  blood,  and  thou  of  mine  ;  so 
that  neither  in  prosperity  or  in  adversity,  shall 
our  covenant  be  broken,  and  whatsoever  the 
one  gains,  shall  be  divided  with  the  other/' 
The  foolish  knight  agreed;  and  they  ratified 
the  treaty  by  a  draught  of  each  other's  blood. 
After  this,  they  both  dwelt  in  the  same  mac- 
sion.  Now  the  lord  of  that  country  had  two 
cities,  one  of  which  was  built  on  the  sum- 
mit of  a  lofty  mountain.  It  was  so  ordered, 
that  no  man  could  dwell  there,  unless  he 
possessed  great  wealth ;  and  having  once  en- 
tered, he  must  remain  for  life.  The  path  to 
this  city  was  narrow  and  stony,  and  about 
mid-way,  three  knights  with  a  large  army 
were  stationed.  The  custom  was,  that  who- 
soever passed  should  do  battle,  or  lose  his 
life,  with  every  thing  that  he  possessed.  In  that 
city,  the  emperor  appointed  a  seneschal,  who 
received  without  exception  all  who  entered, 
and  ministered  to  them  according  to  their 
condition.  But  the  other  city  was  built  in  a 
valley  under  the  mountain,  the  way  to  which 


234  OF   EXCUSES  WHICH   ARE 

was  perfectly  level  and  pleasant.  Three  sol- 
diers dwelt  there,  who  cheerfully  received 
whomsoever  came,  and  served  them  according 
to  their  pleasure.  In  this  city  also  a  senes- 
chal was  placed,  but  he  ordered  all  who  ap- 
proached to  be  thrown  into  prison,  and  on 
the  coming  of  the  judge  to  be  condemned. 

The  wise  knight  said  to  his  companion, 
"  My  friend,  let  us  go  through  the  world 
as  other  knights  are  wont  to  do  (63)  and 
seek  our  fortune."  His  friend  acquiesced ; 
they  set  out  upon  their  travels,  and  presently 
came  to  a  place  where  two  roads  met.  "  See," 
said  the  wise  knight,  "here  are  two  roads. 
The  one  leads  to  the  noblest  city  in  the  world, 
and  if  we  go  thither,  we  shall  obtain  what- 
soever our  hearts  desire.  But  the  other  path 
conducts  to  a  city  which  is  built  in  a  valley ; 
if  we  venture  there,  we  shall  be  thrown  into 
prison,  and  afterwards  crucified.  I  advise, 
therefore,  that  we  avoid  this  road,  and  pur- 
sue the  other."  "  My  friend/'  replied  the 
foolish  knight,  "  I  heard  long  ago  of  these 
two  cities;  but  the  way  to  that  upon  the 
mountain  is  very  narrow  and  dangerous,  be- 


NOT   TO   BE   ADMITTED.  235 

cause  of  the  soldiers  who  attack  those  that 
enter ;  nay,  they  frequently  rob  and  murder 
them.  But  the  other  way  is  open  and  broad  ; 
and  the  soldiers  who  are  stationed  there  re- 
ceive passengers  with  hospitality,  and  supply 
them  with  all  things  necessary.  This  is  suf- 
ficiently manifest;  I  see  it,  and  had  rather 
believe  my  own  eyes  than  you."  "  It  is  true/' 
returned  his  companion,  "  one  way  is  difficult 
to  walk  along,  but  the  other  is  infinitely  worse 
at  the  end :  ignominy  and  crucifixion  will 
certainly  be  our  doom.  But  fear  you  to 
walk  the  strait  road,  on  account  of  a  battle, 
or  because  of  robbers  ?  You,  who  are  a  sol- 
dier, and  therefore  in  duty  bound  to  fight  va- 
liantly !  However,  if  you  will  go  with  me  the 
way  I  desire,  I  promise  to  precede  you  in  the 
attack ;  and  be  assured  with  your  aid  we  shall 
overcome  every  obstacle."  "I  protest  to 
you,"  said  the  other,  "  I  will  not  go  your  way, 
but  will  take  mine  own."  "Well,"  replied 
the  wise  knight,  "  since  I  have  pledged  you 
my  word,  and  drank  your  blood  in  token  of 
fidelity,  I  will  proceed  with  you,  though 
against  my  better  judgment."  So  they  both 
went  the  same  path. 


236  OF   EXCUSES   WHICH    ARE 

Their  progress  was  extremely  pleasant, 
till  they  reached  the  station  of  the  three 
soldiers,  who  honourably  and  magnificently 
entertained  them.  And  here  the  foolish 
knight  said  to  the  wise  one,  {{ Friend,  did 
I  not  tell  thee  how  comfortable  this  way 
would  be  found  ;  in  all  which  the  other  is  de- 
ficient?" "If  the  end  be  well,"  replied  he, 
"  all  is  well ;  (64)  but  I  do  not  hope  it." 
With  the  three  soldiers  they  tarried  some 
time ;  insomuch  that  the  seneschal  of  the 
city,  hearing  that  two  knights,  contrary  to 
royal  prohibition,  were  approaching,  sent  out 
troops  to  apprehend  them.  The  foolish  knight 
he  commanded  to  be  bound  hand  and  foot, 
and  thrown  into  a  well,  but  the  other  he  im- 
prisoned. Now,  when  the  judge  arrived,  the 
malefactors  were  all  brought  before  him,  and 
amongst  the  rest,  our  two  knights — the  wiser 
of  whom  thus  spoke  :  "  My  lord,  I  complain 
of  my  comrade,  who  is  the  occasion  of  my 
death.  I  declared  to  him  the  law  of  this  city, 
and  the  danger  to  which  we  were  exposed, 
but  he  would  not  listen  to  my  words,  nor 
abide  by  my  counsels.  fl  will  trust  my 
eyes/  said  he,  '  rather  than  you.'  Now,  be- 


NOT  TO   BE  ADMITTED.  237 

cause  I  had  taken  an  oath  never  to  forsake 
him  in  prosperity  or  in  adversity,  I  accom- 
panied him  hither.  But  ought  I  therefore  to 
die?  Pronounce  a  just  judgment."  Then 
the  foolish  knight  addressed  the  judge  :  "  He 
is  himself  the  cause  of  my  death.  For  every 
one  knows  that  he  is  reckoned  wise,  and  I  am 
naturally  a  fool.  Ought  he  then  so  lightly  to 
have  surrendered  his  wisdom  to  my  folly  ? 
And  had  he  not  done  so,  I  should  have  re- 
turned to  go  the  way  which  he  went,  even  for 
the  solemn  oath  which  I  had  sworn.  And 
therefore,  since  he  is  wise,  and  I  am  foolish, 
he  is  the  occasion  of  my  death."  The  judge, 
hearing  this,  spoke  to  both,  but  to  the  wise 
knight  first.  "  Dost  thou  deserve  to  be 
called  wise,  who  listened  so  heedlessly  to  his 
folly  and  followed  him  ?  and,  fool  that  thou 
art !  why  didst  thou  not  credit  his  word  ?  By 
your  own  egregious  folly  ye  are  both  justly 
doomed.  And  both  shall  be  suspended  on 
the  cross/'  Thus  it  was  done. 


238  OF   MAINTAINING 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  Christ ;  the  two 
knights  body  and  soul;  of  which  the  last  is 
the  wise  one.  In  baptism  they  were  united. 
They  drank  blood ;  that  is,  the  blood  in  the 
veins  prevents  their  separation,  and  preserves 
life.  The  two  ways  are  penitence  and  the 
world's  glory.  The  way  of  penitence  is  nar- 
row, but  the  other  is  broad  and  alluring. 
The  city  on  the  mountain  is  heaven  ;  that  in 
the  valley  is  hell.  The  three  soldiers,  are  the 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  &c.  &c. 


TALE   LXYIII. 


OF  MAINTAINING   TRUTH   TO   THE   LAST. 


IN  the  reign  of  Gordian,  there  was  a  certain 
noble  soldier  who  had  a  fair  but  vicious  wife. 


TRUTH   TO   THE   LAST.  239 

It  happened  that  her  husband,  having  occa- 
sion to  travel,  the  lady  sent  for  her  gallant, 
and  rioted  in  every  excess  of  wickedness. 
Now,  one  of  her  handmaids,  it  seems,  was 
skilful  in  interpreting  the  song  of  birds  ;  and 
in  the  court  of  the  castle  there  were  three 
cocks.  (65)  During  the  night,  while  the  gal- 
lant was  with  his  mistress,  the  first  cock  be- 
gan to  crow.  The  lady  heard  it,  and  said  to 
her  servant,  "  Dear  friend,  what  says  yonder 
cock  ?"  She  replied,  "  That  you  are  grossly 
injuring  your  husband."  "  Then/'  said  the 
lady,  "kill  that  cock  without  delay."  They 
did  so ;  but  soon  after,  the  second  cock  crew, 
and  the  lady  repeated  her  question.  "Ma- 
dam/' said  the  handmaid,  "  he  says,  '  My 
companion  died  for  revealing  the  truth,  and 
for  the  same  cause,  I  am  prepared  to  die/  " 
"  Kill  him,"  cried  the  lady, — which  they  did. 
After  this,  the  third  cock  crew;  "What  says 
he  ?"  asked  she  again.  "  Hear,  see,  and  say 
nothing,  if  you  would  live  in  peace."  "Oh, 
oh  \"  said  the  lady,  "  don't  kill  him/' 


240  OF   CHASTITY. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  God,  the  sol- 
dier, Christ;  and  the  wife,  the  soul.  The 
gallant  is  the  devil.  The  handmaid  is  con- 
science. The  first  cock  is  our  Saviour,  who 
was  put  to  death ;  the  second  is  the  martyrs  ; 
and  the  third  is  a  preacher  who  ought  to  be 
earnest  in  declaring  the  truth,  but  being  de- 
terred by  menaces,  is  afraid  to  utter  it. 


TALE    LXIX. 


OF   CHASTITY. 


THE  emperor  Gallus  employed  a  singularly 
skilful  carpenter  in  the  erection  of  a  magni- 
ficent palace.  At  that  period,  a  certain  knight 
lived  who  had  a  very  beautiful  daughter ;  and 


OF    CHASTITY.  241 

who,  perceiving  the  extraordinary  sagacity  of 
the  artificer,  determined  to  give  him  the  lady 
in  marriage.  Calling  him,  therefore,  he  said, 
"  My  good  friend,  ask  of  me  what  you  will ; 
so  that  it  be  possible,  I  will  do  it,  provided 
you  marry  my  daughter."  The  other  assented, 
and  the  nuptial  rites  were  celebrated  accord- 
ingly. Then  the  mother  of  the  lady  said  to 
the  carpenter,  "  My  son,  since  you  have  be- 
come one  of  our  family,  I  will  bestow  upon 
you  a  curious  shirt.  It  possesses  this  singu- 
lar property,  that  as  long  as  you  and  your 
wife  are  faithful  to  each  other,  it  will  neither 
be  rent,  nor  worn,  nor  stained.  But  if — 
which  heaven  forbid  ! — either  of  you  prove 
unfaithful,  instantly  it  will  lose  its  virtue. 'J 
The  carpenter,  very  happy  in  what  he  heard 
took  the  shirt,  and  returned  great  thanks  for 
the  gift. 

A  short  while  afterward,  the  carpenter 
being  sent  for  to  superintend  the  build- 
ing of  the  emperor's  palace,  took  with  him 
the  valuable  present  which  he  had  received. 
He  continued  absent  until  the  structure  was 
complete ;  and  numbers,  observing  how  much 

VOL.    I.  M 


242  OF   CHASTITY. 

he  laboured,  admired  the  freshness  and  spotless 
purity  of  his  shirt.  Even  the  emperor  con- 
descended to  notice  it,  and  said  to  him,  "  My 
master,  how  is  it  that  in  despite  of  your  la- 
borious occupation,  and  the  constant  use  of 
your  shirt,  it  still  preserves  its  color  and 
beauty  ?"  "  You  must  know,  my  lord,"  said 
he,  "  that  as  long  as  my  wife  and  I  continue 
faithful  to  each  other,  my  shirt  retains  its  ori- 
ginal whiteness  and  beauty ;  but  if  either  of 
us  forget  our  matrimonial  vows,  it  will  sully 
like  any  other  cloth."  A  soldier,  overhear- 
ing this,  instantly  formed  the  design  of  prov- 
ing the  fidelity  of  the  lady.  Wherefore, 
without  giving  any  cause  of  suspicion  to  the 
carpenter,  he  secretly  hastened  to  his  house, 
and  solicited  his  wife  to  dishonor.  She  re- 
ceived him  with  an  appearance  of  pleasure, 
and  seemed  to  be  entirely  influenced  by  the 
same  feelings.  "  But,"  added  she,  "in  this 
place  we  are  exposed  to  observation ;  come 
with  me,  and  I  will  conduct  you  into  a  private 
chamber."  He  followed  her,  and  closing  the 
door,  she  said,  "  Wait  here  awhile ;  I  will 
return  presently."  Thus  she  did  every  day, 
all  the  time  supplying  him  only  with  bread 


OF   CHASTITY.  243 

and  water.  Without  regard  to  his  urgency, 
she  compelled  him  to  endure  this  humiliating 
treatment ;  and  before  long,  two  other  sol- 
diers came  to  her  from  the  emperor's  court, 
with  the  same  evil  views.  In  like  manner, 
she  decoyed  them  into  the  chamber,  and  fed 
them  with  bread  and  water. 

The  sudden  disappearance,  however,  of  the 
three  soldiers,  gave  rise  to  much  enquiry ;  and 
the  carpenter,  on  the  completion  of  his  labors, 
received  the  stipulated  sum,  and  returned  to  his 
own  home.  His  virtuous  wife  met  him  with  j  oy, 
and  looking  upon  the  spotless  shirt,  exclaimed, 
"  Blessed  be  God  !  our  truth  is  made  apparent — 
there  is  not  a  single  stain  upon  the  shirt/'  To 
which  he  replied,  "My  beloved,  during  the 
progress  of  the  building,  three  soldiers,  one  after 
another,  came  to  ask  questions  about  the  shirt. 
I  related  the  fact,  and  since  that  time  nothing 
has  been  heard  of  them."  The  lady  smiled, 
and  said,  "  The  soldiers  respecting  whom  you 
feel  anxious,  thought  me  a  fit  subject  for  their 
improper  solicitation,  and  came  hither  with 
the  vilest  intent.  I  decoyed  them  into  a 
remote  chamber,  and  have  fed  them  with 
M  2 


244  OF  THE   COMPUNCTIONS   OF 

bread  and  water."  The  carpenter,  delighted 
with  this  proof  of  his  wife's  fidelity,  spared 
their  lives,  and  liberated  them,  on  condition 
that  they  became  honest  men. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  emperor  is  God ;  the  palace 
is  the  human  heart.  The  soldier  who  mar- 
ried his  daughter  to  the  carpenter  is  Christ; 
the  carpenter  is  any  good  Christian,  and  the 
mother  is  the  Church.  The  shirt  is  faith; 
the  three  soldiers  are  pride,  lusts  of  the  eyes, 
and  lusts  of  the  heart. 


TALE    LXX. 


OF   THE   COMPUNCTIONS    OF    A    FAITHFUL 
MIND. 


A   CERTAIN   king   had   a   beautiful   and    wise 
daughter,  whom  he  was  desirous  of  marrying. 


A  FAITHFUL  MIND.  245 

But  she  had  sworn  never  to  unite  herself  with 
any  but  upon  three  conditions.  First,  he 
was  to  state  accurately  and  succinctly  how 
many  feet  there  were  in  the  length,  breadth, 
and  depth  of  the  four  elements.  Secondly, 
what  would  change  the  north  wind.  And 
thirdly,  by  what  means  fire  might  be  carried 
in  the  bosom  without  injury.  When  the  king, 
therefore,  understood  his  daughter's  resolu- 
tion, he  proclaimed  it  through  the  kingdom, 
and  promised  to  give  her  in  marriage  to  whom- 
soever performed  the  conditions.  Many  en- 
deavoured, but  failed ;  until  at  length  a  cer- 
tain soldier  from  foreign  parts  heard  of  the 
girl's  oath.  He  hastened  to  the  palace,  con- 
veying with  him  a  single  attendant,  and  an 
extremely  fiery  horse.  On  being  admitted 
into  the  king's  presence,  he  said,  "  I  am  de- 
sirous of  espousing  your  majesty's  daughter, 
and  I  am  prepared  to  solve  the  questions 
which  have  been  proposed."  The  king  as- 
sented, and  the  soldier  calling  his  servant, 
commanded  him  to  lie  upon  the  earth.  And 
when  he  was  thus  laid,  his  master  measured 
his  length  from  one  extremity  to  the  other. 
M  3 


246  OF   THE   COMPUNCTIONS   OF 

When  lie  had  done  this,  he  said  to  the  king, 
"  My  lord,  your  first  question  is  resolved;  I 
find  in  the  four  elements  scarcely  seven  feet." 
"How?"  replied  the  king.  "What  has  this 
to  do  with  the  four  elements  ?"  "  My  lord/' 
answered  the  soldier,  "  every  man  as  well  as 
every  animal,  is  composed  of  the  four  ele- 
ments." "  Amen/'  said  the  king,  "  you  have 
proved  this  very  satisfactorily.  Now  then  for 
the  second  condition;  which  is  to  change  the 
wind/'  Immediately  he  caused  his  horse  to 
be  brought  into  the  area  of  the  court,  and 
there  administered  a  potion,  by  which  the 
animal  was  made  perfectly  quiet.  This  done 
he  turned  his  horse's  head  toward  the  East, 
and  said,  "  Observe,  my  lord,  the  wind  is 
changed  from  North  to  East."  "  How  ?  "  an- 
swered the  King,  "  what  is  this  to  the  wind  ?" 
"  Sire,"  returned  the  soldier,  "  is  it  not  ob- 
vious to  your  wisdom  that  the  life  of  every 
animal  consists  in  his  breath,  which  is  air  ? 
As  long  as  he  remained  toward  the  North 
he  raged  fiercely,  and  his  snorting  was  exces- 
sive. But  when  I  had  given  him  the  potion 
and  turned  him  towards  the  East,  he  became 


A   FAITHFUL   MIND.  247 

quiet  and  breathed  less,  and  in  a  different 
direction;  wherefore,  the  wind  is  changed" 
"  This  also/'  said  the  king,  "  you  have  well 
proved;  go  on  to  the  third."  "My  lord," 
replied  the  soldier,  "this,  so  please  you,  I 
will  perform  before  all  your  court."  Then, 
taking  up  a  handful  of  burning  coals,  he  de- 
posited them  in  his  bosom,  without  injury  to 
his  flesh.  "  Truly,"  exclaimed  the  king,  "  you 
have  done  very  well  in  these  matters  :  but 
tell  me,  how  happens  it  that  you  are  unhurt 
by  the  fire."  "  It  was  not/'  returned  the 
soldier,  "by  any  power  of  my  own,  but  by 
virtue  of  a  single  stone,  which  I  always 
carry  about  with  me.  And  whosoever  pos- 
sesses this  stone  is  able  to  resist  the  hottest 
fire."  The  king,  satisfied  that  the  conditions 
had  been  accurately  complied  with,  gave  or- 
ders for  his  Inarriage  with  the  lady.  He 
loaded  him  with  riches  and  honors,  and  they 
both  ended  their  days  in  the  greatest  happi- 
ness. 


M  4 


248       OF   AN   ETERNAL   RECOMPENCE. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  The  daughter  is  the  human  soul. 
To  measure  the  elements,  is  to  subdue  the 
lusts  of  the  flesh.  The  fiery  horse  is  any  sin- 
ner, whom  repentance  changes.  The  fire  in 
the  bosom  is  luxury,  pride,  avarice,  &c.,  and 
the  stone  is  a  true  and  lively  faith  in  Christ. 


TALE    LXXI. 


OF   AN   ETERNAL   RECOMPENCE. 


A  KING  made  a  great  feast,  and  despatched 
messengers  with  invitations,  in  which  the 
guests  were  promised  not  only  a  magnificent 
entertainment,  but  considerable  wealth.  When 
the  messengers  had  gone  through  town  and 


OF   AN   ETERNAL   RECOMPENCE.       249 

country,    executing    every    where     the    com- 
mands of  their  king,  it  happened  that  there 
dwelt  in   a  certain  city  two  men,  of  whom  one 
was    valiant    and   robustly   made,    but   blind : 
while  the  other  was  lame  and  feeble,  but  his 
sight   was  excellent.     Said  the  blind  man  to 
the  lame, ' "  My  friend,  our's  is  a  hard  case ; 
for  it  is  spread  far   and  near  that   the   king 
gives  a  great  feast,  at  which  every  man  will 
receive  not  only  abundance  of  food  but  much 
wealth  ;  and  thou  art  lame,  while  I  am  blind  : 
how  then  shall  we  get  to  the  feast  ?"     "  Take 
my  counsel,"  replied  the  lame  man,  "  and  we 
will   obtain  a  share   both   of  the   dinner   and 
wealth."     "Verily,"  answered   the  other,  "I 
will  follow  any  counsel  that  may  benefit  me." 
"  Well  then,"  returned  the  blind  man,  "  thou 
art  stout   of  heart,  and  robust  of  body,    and 
therefore,  thou   shalt   carry   me   on  thy  back 
who   am   lame  and  weak.     My  eyes    shall   be 
as  thine  :    and  thus,  for  the  loan  of  thy  legs, 
I  will  lend  thee  my  eyes ;    by  means  of   which 
we  shall  reach  the  festival  and  secure  the  re- 
ward."    "  Be  it  as  thou  hast  said,"  replied  he 
of  the  legs  ;  "  get  upon  my  back  immediately." 
M  5 


250        OF   AN   ETERNAL   KECOMPENCE. 

He  did  so;  the  lame  man  pointed  the  way, 
and  the  other  carried  him.  They  arrived  at 
the  feast,  and  received  the  same  recompence 
as  the  rest.  (66) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  who  prepared  the  feast  of  eternal  life. 
The  blind  man  is  the  powerful  of  this  world, 
who  are  blind  to  their  future  safety.  The 
lame  man  is  any  devout  person,  who  has  no- 
thing in  common  with  the  man  of  the  world, 
but  sees  the  kingdom  which  is  to  come*. 

*  The  latter  part  of  this  moralization  recommends  "fideliter 
viris  ecc^esiasticis  decimas  dare.  Si  hsec  feceritis  nos  viri  reli- 
giosi  tenemur  vobis  viam  salutis  ostendere  quomodo  poteritis 
advitam  eternampervenire."  The  monks  never  forgot  this — 
"  If  you  pay  us,  we  will  shew  you  the  way  ;  else,  find  it  out 
yourself."  Such  was  the  burden  of  their  song. 


OF   THE   DESTRUCTION,  &C.  251 


TALE    LXXII. 


OF  THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  UNGRATEFUL 
MEN. 


A  CERTAIN  king  had  an  only  son,  whom  he 
ardently  loved.  When  the  boy  arrived  at 
man's  estate,  day  after  day  he  solicited  his 
father  to  resign  the  kingdom,  and  deliver  to 
himself  the  sovereign  power.  te  My  dear  son," 
said  the  king,  "if  I  were  satisfied  that  you 
would  treat  me  honourably  and  kindly  during 
the  remainder  of  my  life,  I  should  have  no 
objection  to  relinquish  the  throne  to  you.." 
The  son  answered,  "  My  lord,  I  will  bind  my- 
self by  an  oath  before  all  the  noblemen  of  the 
empire,  to  do  in  every  respect,  as  a  son  ought 
to  do.  Be  confident  that  I  will  shew  greater 
honour  to  you  than  to  myself."  The  old  king 

M6 


252  OF   THE    DESTRUCTION   OF 

trusted  to  his  assurances,  and  resigned  the 
supreme  command.  But  no  sooner  was  he 
crowned  and  seated  on  the  throne  of  his  an- 
cestors, than  his  heart  underwent  a  total 
change.  For  a  few  years  he  gave  due  honour 
to  his  indulgent  parent,  but  after  that  en- 
tirely neglected  him.  This  unexpected  and 
unmerited  treatment,  naturally  exasperated 
the  old  king,  and  he  began  to  complain  to  the 
wise  men  of  the  empire,  that  his  son  had 
broken  the  contract.  They,  therefore,  having 
always  loved  the  father,  reproved  the  son  for 
his  ingratitude.  But  the  new  king  spurned 
them  from  him  with  fury;  imprisoned  his 
father  in  a  castle,  and  permitted  not  the 
smallest  access  to  him.  Here  he  often  en- 
dured the  extremity  of  hunger,  and  every 
other  species  of  wretchedness. 

It  happened  that  the  king  himself  once  passed 
the  night  in  the  same  castle  ;  and  the  father  sent 
to  him  the  following  message — "  Oh  my  son, 
pity  thy  old  father  who  gave  up  every  thing  to 
thee.  I  suffer  thirst  and  hunger ;  and  deprived 
of  all  comfort — even  of  wine  to  cheer  me  in  my 
infirmity — I  draw  out  my  life."  "  I  know 


UNGRATEFUL   MEN.  253 

not,"  said   the   king,   "that  there  is  wine  in 
this  castle."      He   was   told   that   there   were 
five   casks   reposited   in   that  place,  but  that 
without  his  permission  the  seneschal  refused 
to  draw  wine   from   them.     "  Suffer   me,   my 
dear  son,"  said  the  unhappy  father,   "suffer 
me  at  least  to  recruit  my  wasted  form  with 
the  first  of  these  casks."     The  son   refused, 
alleging  that  it  was  new,  and  therefore  preju- 
dicial  to   old   men.      "  Then,"    said   the    old 
man,  "  give  me  the  second  cask."     "  I  will 
not  do  that,"  answered  the  king,  "  because  it 
is   kept  for   my  own   drinking,   and   for  the 
young  noblemen  who  attend  me."     "Yet  you 
will  surely  permit  me  to  take  the  third,"  con- 
tinued his   father;    "No"   replied  the   other, 
"  it  is  very  strong,  and  you  are  so  weak  and 
infirm    that  it  would  kill  you."     "  The  fourth 
cask  then?"  said  he,  "give  me  that." 

"It  is  sour,  and  would  do  you  much  injury." 
"But,"  urged  the  father,  "there  is  a  fifth, 
allow  me  to  retain  it."  "  Oh,"  said  the  king, 
"  it  is  nothing  but  dregs ;  the  noblemen  sent 
it  to  destroy  thee  in  case  thou  wert  permitted 
to  drink  of  it."  The  poor  father  hearing  ex- 
cuses like  these,  went  away  very  sorrowful; 


254  OF   AVARICE. 

but  secretly  wrote  letters  to  the  noblemen, 
declaring  how  he  had  been  treated,  and  im- 
ploring them  to  relieve  him  from  the  misery 
he  was  compelled  to  endure.  His  ill  usage 
excited  their  pity  and  indignation;  they  re- 
stored the  father,  and  threw  the  son  into  pri- 
son, where  he  died  *. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  Christ ;  and  the  son 
is  any  bad  Christian. 


TALE    LXXIII. 


OF  AVARICE,  WHICH  MAKES  MANY  BLIND. 

A  CERTAIN  king  of  Rome  decreed,  that  every 
blind  man  should  annually  receive  a  hundred 

*  Our  nursery-books  contain  a  story  not  unlike  the  present- 
A  father  resigns  his  estates  to  an  ungrateful  son,  and  is  driven 
into  the  garret,  and  left  to  neglect  and  poverty.  The  grandson 
pities,  and  by  a  pointed  speech — hardly  characteristic  of  a  child 
— reproves,  and  touches  his  parent's  heart. 


OF   AVARICE.  255 

shillings  from  the  emperor.  It  happened  that 
twenty-three  associates  came  into  the  city  and 
entered  a  tavern  to  drink.  They  remained 
there  seven  days,  both  eating  and  drinking; 
but  when  they  would  reckon  with  the  tavern- 
keeper,  they  had  not  sufficient  money  to  defray 
the  expence  of  what  they  had  consumed. 
' '  Friends/'  quoth  mine  host,,  "  here  be  want- 
ing a  hundred  shillings.  I  tell  you,  of  a  cer- 
tainty, ye  go  not  hence  till  ye  have  paid  the 
uttermost  farthing."  This  rather  startled  the 
revellers,  who,  turning  to  one  another,  ex- 
claimed, "  What  shall  we  do  ?  We  cannot  pay 
so  large  a  sum."  At  length  one  of  them  ob- 
served, "Listen  to  me;  I  will  give  you  the 
best  advice.  The  king  of  this  country  has 
decreed,  that  whosoever  is  blind  shall  receive 
from  his  treasury  one  hundred  shillings.  Let 
us  then  cast  lots,  and  upon  whomsoever  the 
lot  falls,  we  will  deprive  him  of  sight,  and  send 
him  to  the  king  for  the  promised  benevolence. 
Thus  we  shall  depart  in  peace."  They  all 
agreed  that  the  counsel  was  excellent;  and 
casting  lots,  the  chance  fell  upon  the  con- 
triver of  the  expedient ;  whose  eyes  they  im- 


256  OF   AVARICE,    &C. 

mediately  put  out.  He  was  then  led  to  the  pa- 
lace. Arriving  at  the  gate,  they  knocked  and 
were  admitted  by  the  porter,  who  enquired  their 
business.  The  blind  man  answered,  "  I  am 
one  entitled,  from  my  deficiency  of  sight,  to 
the  benefit  of  the  royal  donation/"  "Well," 
said  the  porter,  "  I  will  inform  the  senes- 
chal/'' He  went  accordingly;  but  the  wary 
seneschal  first  determined  to  examine  his  exte- 
rior before  he  delivered  the  money.  He  did  so, 
and  then  asked  what  he  wanted.  "A  hun- 
dred shillings,"  replied  he,  "  which  the  law 
gives  to  every  blind  man."  "  My  friend," 
said  the  seneschal,  "if  I  am  not  greatly  mis- 
taken, I  saw  you  yesterday  in  a  tavern  with 
both  eyes  perfect.  You  misinterpret  the  law. 
It  relates  to  those  who,  by  some  natural  infir- 
mity, or  by  accident,  become  blind — and 
against  which  there  was  no  defence.  Such 
the  law  protects  and  relieves.  But  you,  who 
voluntarily  surrendered  your  eyes  to  liquidate 
a  debt  incurred  by  the  most  unwarrantable 
gluttony,  can  have  no  claim  or  pretence  to  the 
royal  munificence.  Seek,  therefore,  consola- 
tion and  relief  elsewhere."  The  blind  man, 


OF   FORESIGHT   AND   CARE.  257 

cursing  his  folly,  retired  in  great  confusion, 
from  the  palace. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  law  in  the  story  is  the  law 
of  God.  He  who  errs  by  natural  infirmity,  or 
through  the  temptations  of  the  devil,  and  re- 
pents, is  forgiven.  But  if  any  one,  from  pure 
malice,  shall  commit  sin,  and  fall  into  despair 
he  can  scarcely,  if  at  all,  be  pardoned.  The 
tavern-keeper  is  the  devil. 


TALE    LXXIY. 


OF   FORESIGHT   AND   CARE. 


A  KING  had  an  only  son,  whom  he  tenderly 
loved.     He  caused  a  golden  apple  to  be  made 

M9 


258  OF   FORESIGHT   AND   CARE. 

at  an  immense  expense;  and  shortly  after  its 
fabrication  he  sickened.  Finding  his  end  ap- 
proach, he  called  to  him  his  son,  and  spoke 
after  the  following  manner.  "My  dear  son, 
if  it  please  God  that  I  should  not  recover  from 
the  sickness  under  which  I  suffer,  on  my  bles- 
sing I  charge  you,  travel  through  town  and 
country,  and  take  with  you  the  golden  apple 
which  I  caused  to  be  made;  find  out  the 
greatest  fool,  and  deliver  to  him  that  apple 
from  me."  The  son  faithfully  promised  to  ex- 
ecute his  parent's  wish;  and  the  king,  turn- 
ing himself  toward  the  wall,  resigned  his  spi- 
rit. A  splendid  funeral  was  prepared,  and 
after  the  interment,  the  son  set  out  upon  his 
travels,  with  the  apple  in  his  possession. 

He  traversed  many  countries  and  kingdoms, 
and  found  abundance  of  fools,  but  none  whom 
he  thought  quite  worthy  of  the  apple.  At  last  he 
entered  a  certain  province,  and  approached  its 
principal  city.  Observing  the  king,  very  mag- 
nificently attended,  riding  though  the  streets, 
he  asked  various  questions  respecting  the  per- 
son he  saw ;  and  especially  of  the  institutions  of 
the  country.  He  was  answered,  that  according 


OF   FORESIGHT   AND   CARE.  259 

to  their  custom  the  throne  was  annually  va- 
cated ;  and  that  the  late  possessor,  deprived  of 
every  honour,  was  driven  into  banishment, 
where  he  died  in  obscurity  and  poverty.  The 
traveller,  hearing  this  account,  exclaimed,  "This 
is  the  man  ;  I  have  found  him  whom  I  sought ;" 
and  immediately  hastening  to  the  palace,  he  bent 
his  knee,  and  cried,  "  Hail,  Oh  king !  my  de- 
ceased father  bequeathed  to  you  this  golden 
apple  in  his  last  will/'  The  king  received  the 
gift,  and  said,  "  My  friend,  how  can  this  be  ? 
Your  royal  parent  knew  nothing  of  me,  nor 
have  I  ever  performed  any  service  to  him. 
Why  then  hath  he  left  me  so  valuable  a  pre- 
sent ?"  "The  king,  my  lord/'  replied  he, 
"  bequeathed  it  not  more  to  you  than  to  an- 
other ;  but  on  his  blessing,  he  charged  me  to 
bestow  it  upon  the  greatest  fool  that  I  could 
find.  And  I  have  now  travelled  through  va- 
rious kingdoms  and  countries,  but  no  where 
have  I  discovered  so  exquisite  a  fool  and  mad- 
man. Therefore,  according  to  my  sire's  com- 
mand, I  resign  the  apple  to  your  most  gracious 
majesty."  "  But,"  said  the  king,  "  on  what  ac- 
count do  you  take  me  for  a  fool  ?"  "I  will  tell 


260  OF   FORESIGHT   AND   CARE. 

you,  my  lord,"  returned  the  other.  "  You  are 
king  for  one  year ;  and  then,  doomed  to  poverty 
and  exile,  you  perish  most  miserably.  I  declare 
to  you,  I  do  not  believe  that  there  is  in  the  whole 
world,  such  an  instance  of  egregious  folly.  For 
would  any  but  a  fool  choose  so  short  a  time  of 
splendour  for  an  end  so  calamitous  ?"  "  Why," 
replied  the  king,  "  you  are  doubtless  right ;  and 
therefore,  while  I  yet  reign,  I  will  prepare  for 
my  future  existence.  I  will  send  the  greater 
portion  of  my  wealth  into  a  remote  land,  upon 
which  I  may  live  in  comfort,  when  I  am  driven 
into  exile."  He  did  so ;  and  for  a  number  of 
years  enjoyed  great  prosperity,  and  ended  his 
life  in  peace. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king,  who  bequeathed  a 
golden  apple  to  fools,  is  God.  That  apple  is 
the  world.  The  king  who  reigned  for  a  year, 
is  any  man  who  lives  in  this  world  (considered 
with  respect  to  futurity),  but  as  a  single  hour. 
Let  us  then  make  provision  for  the  future. 


OF   WORLDLY  ANXIETY.  261 


TALE    LXXY. 


OF   WORLDLY   ANXIETY, 


THERE  formerly  lived  a  king  who  had  three 
fair  daughters.  He  married  them  to  three 
dukes  ;  but,  unhappily,  all  their  husbands  died 
in  the  space  of  one  year.  The  king,  being 
made  acquainted  with  this  circumstance, 
would  have  had  his  daughters  marry  again, 
and  calling  the  first  into  his  presence,  he 
said  : — "  My  dear  daughter,  your  husband  is 
dead ;  T  will  therefore  unite  you  to  another." 
But  she  would  by  no  means  consent,  and  as- 
signed for  it  this  reason.  "  If  I  marry  again, 
I  should  love  my  second  husband  equally 
with  the  first;  perhaps  more,  or  it  might  be 
less.  This  ought  not  to  be ;  for  my  first  hus- 
band possessed  my  earliest  affection — my  vir- 


262  OF   WORLDLY   ANXIETY. 

gin  troth.     Therefore  the  second  ought  not  to 
be  loved  so  well.     But  I  might  love  him  more, 
and  this  would  increase  the  evil :  on  the  other 
hand,  if  I  loved  him  less,  there  would  exist 
only  contention  between   us.     So   that   I   re- 
solve never  to  be  espoused  again/'     The  king, 
satisfied  with  what  he  heard,  called  another  of 
his   daughters,  and  proposed   the  same  thing 
to  her   as  to   her  elder   sister.     She   replied, 
"  My   lord,  I  also  decline   this  matter.     For 
should  I  comply,  it  must  be  either  for  riches, 
or  power,  or  beauty.     Now  of  riches  I  have 
quite  enough ;  my  friends  are  sufficiently  nu- 
merous to  defend  me ;  and  as  for  beauty,  I  do 
not  believe  there  was  so  beautiful  a  person  in 
the  world  as  my  late  husband.     Therefore,  1 
too  resolve   upon  a  single  state."     The  king 
then  applied  to  the  third  daughter,   and  she 
gave  the  following  reasons  for  refusing  his  re- 
quest.    "  If,"  said  she,  te  I  marry,  my  husband 
must  desire  me  either  for  my  beauty  or  my 
wealth.     Now  it  cannot  be  for  the  former,  be- 
cause I  am  not  beautiful ;  then  it  must  be  for 
the  latter,  and  true  love  never  existed  which 


OF   WORLDLY   ANXIETY.  263 

was  founded  upon  mercenary  feelings.  When 
wealth  flies,  love  flies  with  it*.  Therefore,  I 
would  on  no  account  marry  again.  Moreover, 
the  Sacred  Writings  say,  that  a  husband  and 
wife  are  one  body  but  two  souls  ;  therefore 
the  body  of  my  husband  is  my  body,  and  the 
converse.  Every  day  I  visit  the  sepulchre  of 
my  deceased  lord,  and  he  is  ever  present  to  my 
mind.  For  all  these  causes,  I  determine  to 
remain  as  I  am/'  The  king,  pleased  with  the 
virtuous  resolutions  of  his  daughters,  solicited 
them  no  more. 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  God.  The  three 
daughters  are  the  soul,  which  image  the  Holy 
Trinity.  For  God  said,  "  Let  us  make  man 
in  our  image  ;  therefore  the  Trinity  in  unity  is 
typified  by  the  soul,  and  the  soul  represented 
by  three  persons.  The  three  dukes  are  the 
devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh ;  when  they  die, 

*  When  Poverty  comes  in  a  tthe  door,  Love  flies  out  at  the 
window. — ENGLISH  PROVEKB. 

1 


264  OF   CONCORD. 

that  is,  when  the  soul  repents  of  her  sins,  do 
not  again  be  united  to  them. 


TALE  LXXVI. 


OF   CONCORD. 


Two  physicians  once  resided  in  a  city,  who 
were  admirably  skilled  in  medicine;  inso- 
much, that  all  the  sick  who  took  their  pre- 
scriptions were  healed  ;  and  it  thence  became 
a  question  with  the  inhabitants,  which  of 
them  was  the  best.  After  a  while,  a  dispute 
arose  between  them  upon  this  point.  Said 
one,  "  My  friend,  why  should  discord  or  envy 
or  anger  separate  us ;  let  us  make  the  trial, 
and  whosoever  is  inferior  in  skill  shall  serve 
the  other."  "  But  how,"  replied  his  friend, 
"  is  this  to  be  brought  about  ?"  The  first 


OF   CONCORD.  265 

physician  answered,  "Hear  me.  I  will 
pluck  out  your  eyes,  without  doing  you  the 
smallest  injury,  and  lay  them  before  you  on 
the  table ;  and  when  you  desire  it,  I  will  re- 
place them  as  perfect  and  serviceable  as  they 
were  before.  If  in  like  manner,  you  can  per- 
form this,  we  will  then  be  esteemed  equal,  and 
walk  as  brethren  through  the  world.  But,  re- 
member, he  who  fails  in  the  attempt  shall  be- 
come the  servant  of  the  other  "  "  I  am  well 
pleased,"  returned  his  fellow,  "  to  do  as  you 
say."  Whereupon,  he  who  made  the  proposi- 
tion took  out  his  instruments  and  extracted 
the  eyes,  besmearing  the  sockets  and  the  outer 
part  of  the  lids  with  a  certain  rich  ointment. 
"My  dear  friend,"  said  he,  what  do  you 
perceive  ?"  "  Of  a  surety,"  cried  the  other, 
' '  I  see  nothing.  I  want  the  use  of  my  eyes, 
but  I  feel  no  pain  from  their  loss.  I  pray  you, 
however,  restore  them  to  their  places  as  you 
promised."  "Willingly,"  said  his  friend.  He 
again  touched  the  inner  and  outer  part  of  the 
lids  with  the  ointment,  and  then,  with  much 
precision,  inserted  the  balls  into  their  sockets. 
"  How  do  you  see  now  ?"  asked  he.  "  Excel- 

VOL.   I.  N 


266  OF   CONCORD. 

lently,"  returned  the  other,  "  nor  do  I  feel  the 
least  pain."  "  Well,  then/'  continued  the  first, 
"  it  now  remains  for  you  to  treat  me  in  a  si- 
milar manner*."  "  I  am  ready/'  said  the  lat- 
ter. And  accordingly  taking  the  instruments, 
as  the  first  had  done,  he  smeared  the  upper 
and  under  parts  of  the  eye  with  a  peculiar 
ointment,  drew  out  the  eyes  and  placed  them 
upon  the  table.  The  patient  felt  no  pain  ;  but 
added,  "  I  wish  you  would  hasten  to  re- 
store them."  The  operator  cheerfully  com- 
plied; but  as  he  prepared  his  implements,  a 
crow  entered  by  an  open  window,  and  seeing 
the  eyes  upon  the  table,  snatched  one  of  them 
up,  and  flew  away  with  it.  The  physician, 
vexed  at  what  had  happened,  said  to  himself, 
"  If  I  do  not  restore  the  eye  to  my  companion 
I  must  become  his  slave."  At  that  moment  a 
goat,  browsing  at  no  great  distance,  attracted 
his  observation.  Instantly  he  ran  to  it,  drew  out 
one  of  its  eyes,  and  put  it  into  the  place  of  the  lost 
orb.  "  My  dear  friend/'  exclaimed  the  operator, 

*  A  foolish  physician.  If  the  other  succeeded,  he  acknow- 
ledged his  superiority,  or  equality,  at  least ;  if  not,  he  lost  his 
eyes.  At  all  events;he  could  gain  nothing  by  the  experiment. 


OF    CONCORD.  267 

"  how  do  things  appear  to  you  ?"  {{ Neither  in 
extracting  or  in  replacing,"  he  answered,  "  did 
I  suffer  the  least  pain ;  but — bless  me  ! — one 
eye  looks  up  to  the  trees  !"  "  Ah !"  replied 
the  first,  "  this  is  the  very  perfection  of  medi- 
cine. Neither  of  us  is  superior;  hencefor- 
ward we  will  be  friends,  as  we  are  equals ;  and 
banish  far  off  that  spirit  of  contention  which 
has  destroyed  our  peace."  The  goat-eyed  man 
of  physic  acquiesced ;  they  lived  from  this 
time  in  the  greatest  amity. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  two  physicians  are  the  new 
and  the  old  law.  Thus  the  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians contend :  the  extracted  eyes,  denote 
those  parts  of  the  old  law  which  Christians 
retain.  The  crow  is  the  devil ;  and  the  goat's 
eye  typifies  those  ceremonies  of  the  Jews  to 
which  they  attach  so  much  importance,  and 
by  which  they  are  not  able  to  discern  the 
truth  *. 

*  This  is  to  see  the  beam  in  a  neighbour's  eye,  and  forget 
that  in  their  own.  The  Catholic  ceremonies  are  open  to  the  same 
censure,  and  are  equally  prejudicial  in  their  consequences. 

IT  2 


268  OF   RICHES. 


TALE    LXXYIL 


OF   ETCHES,    WHICH   AEE   NOT   TO   BE 
COVETED. 


A  CERTAIN  king  had  two  daughters,  one  of 
whom  was  extremely  beautiful,  and  very  much 
beloved.  The  other,  however,  was  of  a  dark 
unprepossessing  complexion,  and  hated,  as 
much  as  her  sister  was  esteemed.  This  dif- 
ference in  their  appearance  caused  the  king 
to  give  them  characteristic  names.  He  called 
the  first  Rosamunda  *,  that  is,  the  fragrant 
rose  j  and  the  second,  Gratiaplena,  or  the  full 
of  grace. 

*  Or  Rosa  mundiy  rose  of  the  world.  There  are  two  monkish 
Latin  verses  inscribed  over  the  unfortunate  paramour  of  Henry 
II.  which  may  find  a  place  here  : — 

"  Hie  jacet  in  tumba  ROSA  MUNDI,  non  ROSAMTJNDA  ; 
"Non  redolet,  sed  olet,  quse  redolere  solet." — CAMDEN. 


OF   RICHES.  269 


A    herald    was    commanded    to    proclaim, 
that  whosoever  would  marry  either  of  the  two 
daughters,    should  do  so  upon   the  following 
conditions.      First,    that   they  should   be   the 
worthiest  of  the   candidates;    secondly,   that 
whoever  chose  the  beautiful  girl,  should  have 
nothing  but  her  beauty ;  but  he  who  selected 
the  dark  girl  should  succeed  him  to  the  throne. 
Multitudes    flocked    to    the    summons;     but 
every  one  still  clung  to  the  fair  lady,  and  not 
even  the  temptation  of  a  kingdom  could  in- 
duce any  one  to  espouse  the  other.     Gratia- 
plena  wept  bitterly  at  her  unhappy  fate ;  "  My 
daughter,3'   said   the  king,  "why  are  you  so 
grievously  afflicted?"     "Oh,  my  father,"  re- 
turned she,  "no  one  visits  or  speaks  kindly 
to  me ;   all  pay  their  attentions  to  my  sister, 
and  despise  me."     "  Why,  my  dear  daughter," 
said  the  father,  "  do  you  not  know,  that  who- 
soever marries  you  will  possess  the  crown?" 
This  was  touching  the  right  string;   the  lady 
dried  her  tears,  and  was    marvellously  com- 
forted. 

Not  long   after  a  king   entered   the   royal 
palace,  and  seeing  the  great  beauty  of  Rosa- 


270  OF   BICHES. 

munda,  desired  her  in  marriage.  The  father- 
king  consented,  and  she  was  espoused  with 
great  joy.  But  the  other  daughter  remained 
many  years  unbetrothed.  At  last,  a  certain 
poor  nobleman  very  wisely  reflecting,  that 
though  the  girl  was  abominably  ugly,  yet 
she  was  rich,  determined  to  marry  her.  He 
therefore  went  to  the  king,  and  solicited 
his  consent;  who,  glad  enough  at  the  pro- 
posal, cheerfully  bestowed  her  upon  him ; 
and  after  his  decease,  bequeathed  him  the 
kingdom. 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ ;  Rosamunda  is  the  world,  which  every 
one  loves.  The  other  daughter,  Gratiaplena, 
so  abhorred  by  the  world,  is  poverty.  But 
the  poor  in  spirit  will  receive  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 


OF   LOVE.  271 


TALE   LXXVIII. 


OF   THE   CONSTANCY   OF   LOVE. 


THE  beautiful  daughter  of  a  certain  king  was 
betrothed  to  a  noble  duke,  by  whom  she  had 
very  handsome  children.  The  duke  died,  and 
was  greatly  bewailed  by  the  whole  state. 
After  his  death  her  friends  earnestly  solicited 
the  lady  to  marry  a  second  time,  alleging  that 
her  youth  and  beauty  required  it.  But  she 
answered,  "  I  will  never  marry  again.  My  de- 
parted lord  was  so  good  and  kind ;  he  loved  me 
so  truly,  that  when  he  died  I  thought  I  could 
not  survive  him.  And  if  it  were  possible  that 
1  could  forget  what  he  has  been,  where  shall  I 
find  another  ?  Admitting  that  I  should  marry, 
perhaps  my  second  husband  would  also  pre- 
cede me  to  the  grave  ?  Why  then,  my  grief 
would  be  awakened  a  second  time,  and  my 

N4 


272  OF  PRESUMPTION. 

afflictions  be  as  heavy  as  before !  Moreover, 
if  lie  were  a  bad  man ;  it  would,  indeed,  be 
torture  to  remember  him  who  was  good,  while 
one  so  inferior  had  succeeded  him.  I  am 
therefore  determined  to  remain  as  I  am."  * 


APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  God ;  the  daughter 
the  soul,  betrothed  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


TALE 


OF   PRESUMPTION. 


THERE  was  a  certain  king  who  had  a  singular 
partiality  for  little  dogs  that  barked  loudly ; 
so  much  so,  indeed,  that  they  usually  rested 

*  See  Tale  LXXV.  which  is  similar  both  in  structure  and 
reasoning. 


OF   PRESUMPTION.  273 

in  his  lap.  Being  long  accustomed  to  eat 
and  sleep  in  this  situation,  they  would  scarcely 
do  either  elsewhere:  seeming  to  take  great 
pleasure  in  looking  at  him,  and  putting  their 
paws  upon  his  neck.  Now  it  happened  that 
an  ass,  who  noticed  this  familiarity,  thought 
to  himself,  "  If  I  should  sing  and  dance  before 
the  king,  and  put  my  feet  round  his  neck,  he 
would  feed  me  also  upon  the  greatest  dainties, 
and  suffer  me  to  rest  in  his  lap/7  Accordingly 
quitting  his  stable,  he  entered  the  hall,  and 
running  up  to  the  king,  raised  his  clumsy  feet 
with  difficulty  around  the  royal  neck.  The 
servants,  not  understanding  the  ass's  courteous 
intention,  imagined  that  he  was  mad;  and 
pulling  him  away,  belaboured  him  soundly. 
He  was  then  led  back  to  the  stable.  (67) 

APPLICATION. 

My  beloved,  the  king  is  Christ ;  the  bark- 
ing dogs  are  zealous  preachers.  The  ass  is 
any  one  who,  without  the  necessary  qualifica- 
tions, presumes  to  take  upon  himself  the  in- 
terpretation of  the  word  of  God. 

N5 


274     OF   THE   CUNNING   OF   THE   DEVIL. 


TALE    LXXX. 


OF  THE   CUNNING   OF   THE   DEVIL,  AND  OF 
THE   SECRET   JUDGMENTS   OF   GOD. 


THERE  formerly  lived  a  hermit,  who  in  a  re- 
mote cave  passed  night  and  day  in  the  service 
of  God.  At  no  great  distance  from  his  cell, 
a  shepherd  tended  his  flock.  It  happened 
that  this  person  one  day  fell  into  a  deep  sleep, 
and  in  the  mean  time  a  robber,  perceiving  his 
carelessness,  carried  off  his  sheep.  When  the 
keeper  awoke  and  discovered  the  theft,  he 
began  to  swear  in  good  set  terms  that  he  had 
lost  his  sheep ;  and  where  they  were  conveyed 
was  totally  beyond  his  knowledge.  Now  the 
lord  of  the  flock,  nothing  satisfied  with  his 
keeper's  eloquence,  commanded  him  to  be 
put  to  death.  This  gave  great  umbrage  to 
2 


OF   THE   CUNNING   OF   THE   DEVIL.    275 

the  hermit  before  mentioned;  "Oh  heaven," 
said  he  to  himself,  "  seest  thou  this  deed  ? 
the  innocent  suffers  for  the  guilty  :  why  per- 
mittest  thou  such  things  ?  If  thus  injustice 
triumph,  why  do  I  remain  here  ?  I  will  again 
enter  the  world,  and  do  as  other  men  do." 

With  these  feelings  he  quitted  his  hermitage, 
and  returned  into  the  world ;  but  God  willed 
not  that  he  should  be  lost :  an  angel  in  the 
form  of  a  man  was  commissioned  to  join 
him.  Accordingly,  crossing  the  hermit's 
path,  he  thus  accosted  him — "  My  friend, 
where  are  you  going  ?"  "  I  go,"  said  the 
other,  "  to  the  city  before  us."  "  I  will  ac- 
company you,"  replied  the  angel ;  "  I  am  a 
messenger  from  heaven,  and  come  to  be  the 
associate  of  your  way."  They  walked  on  to- 
gether towards  the  city.  When  they  had  en- 
tered, they  entreated  for  the  love  of  God* 
harbourage  during  the  night,  at  the  house  of 
a  certain  soldier,  who  received  them  with 
cheerfulness,  and  entertained  them  with  much 

*  The  common  mode  of  supplication,  and  will  be  frequently- 
noticed  in  these  volumes. 

N6 


276      OF  THE  CUNNING  OF  THE  DEVIL. 

magnificence.  The  soldier  had  an  only  son 
lying  in  the  cradle,  whom  he  exceedingly 
loved.  After  supper,  their  bed-chamber  was 
sumptuously  decorated  ;  and  the  angel  retired 
with  the  hermit  to  rest.  But  about  the  middle 
of  the  night  the  former  got  up  and  strangled 
the  sleeping  infant.  The  hermit,  horror- 
struck  at  what  he  witnessed,  said  within  him- 
self, "  Never  can  this  be  an  angel  of  God  : 
the  good  soldier  gave  us  every  thing  that  was 
necessary;  he  had  but  this  poor  innocent, 
and  he  is  strangled." — Yet  he  was  afraid  to 
reprove  him. 

In  the  morning  both  arose  and  went  for- 
ward to  another  city,  in  which  they  were  ho- 
nourably entertained  at  the  house  of  one  of 
the  inhabitants.  This  person  possessed  a 
superb  golden  cup  which  he  highly  valued ; 
and  which,  during  the  night,  the  angel  pur- 
loined. But  still  the  hermit  held  his  peace, 
for  his  apprehension  was  extreme.  On  the 
morrow  they  continued  their  journey;  and 
as  they  walked  they  came  to  a  certain  river, 
over  which  a  bridge  was  thrown;  they  as- 
cended the  bridge,  and  about  mid-way  a  poor 


OF  THE  CUNNING  OF  THE  DEVIL.      277 

pilgrim  met  them.  "  My  friend/'  said  the 
angel  to  him,  ff  shew  us  the  way  to  yonder 
city."  The  pilgrim  turned,  and  pointed  with 
his  finger  to  the  road  they  were  to  take;  but 
as  he  turned,  the  angel  seized  him  by  the 
shoulders,  and  precipitated  him  into  the 
stream  below.  At  this  the  terrors  of  the  her- 
mit were  again  aroused — "It  is  the  devil," 
exclaimed  he  internally — { '  it  is  the  devil,  and 
no  good  angel !  What  evil  had  the  poor  man 
done  that  he  should  be  drowned  ?"  He  would 
now  have  gladly  departed  alone;  but  was 
afraid  to  give  utterance  to  the  thoughts 
of  his  heart.  About  the  hour  of  vespers 
they  reached  a  city,  in  which  they  again 
sought  shelter  for  the  night ;  but  the  master 
of  the  house  to  whom  they  applied,  sharply 
refused  it.  "  For  the  love  of  heaven,"  said  the 
angel,  "  afford  us  a  shelter,  lest  we  fall  a  prey 
to  the  wolves  and  other  wild  beasts."  The 
man  pointed  to  a  stye — "  That,"  said  he,  "  is 
inhabited  by  pigs ;  if  it  please  you  to  lie  there 
you  may — but  to  no  other  place  will  I  admit 
you."  "If  we  can  do  no  better,"  returned 
the  angel,  "  we  must  accept  your  ungracious 


278     OF  THE  CUNNING  OF  THE  DEVIL. 

X 

offer."  They  did  so  ;  and  in  the  morning  the 
angel  calling  their  host  said,  "My  friend,  I 
give  you  this  cup :"  and  he  presented  to  him 
the  stolen  goblet.  The  hermit  more  and  more 
astonished  at  what  he  saw,  said  to  himself, 
"Now  I  am  certain  this  is  the  devil.  The 
good  man  who  received  us  with  all  kindness, 
he  despoiled,  and  gives  the  plunder  to  this 
fellow  who  refused  us  a  lodging."  Turning 
to  the  angel,  he  exclaimed,  "I  will  travel 
with  you  no  longer.  I  commend  you  to  God." 
"  Dear  friend/'  answered  the  angel,  "  First 
hear  me,  and  then  go  thy  way. 

THE    EXPLANATION. 

When  thou  wert  in  thy  hermitage,  the 
owner  of  the  flock  unjustly  put  to  death  his 
servant.  True  it  is  he  died  innocently,  and 
therefore  was  in  a  fit  state  to  enter  ano- 
ther world.  God  permitted  him  to  be  slain, 
foreseeing,  that  if  he  lived  he  would  commit 
a  sin,  and  die  before  repentance  followed. 
But  the  guilty  man  who  stole  the  sheep  will 
suffer  eternally,  while  the  owner  of  the  flock 


OF  THE  CUNNING  OF  THE  DEVIL.      279 

will  repair,  by  alms  and  good  works,  that 
which  he  ignorantly  committed.  As  for  the 
son  of  the  hospitable  soldier,  whom  I  strangled 
in  the  cradle,  know,  that  before  the  boy  was 
born,  he  performed  numerous  works  of  cha- 
rity and  mercy;  but  afterwards  grew  parsi- 
monious and  covetous,  in  order  to  enrich 
the  child,  of  which  he  was  inordinately  fond. 
This  was  the  cause  of  its  death ;  and  now  its 
distressed  parent  is  again  become  a  devout 
Christian.  Then,  for  the  cup  which  I  pur- 
loined from  him  who  received  us  so  kindly, 
know,  that  before  the  cup  was  made,  there 
was  not  a  more  abstemious  person  in  the 
world ;  but  afterwards  he  took  such  pleasure 
in  it,  and  drank  from  it  so  often,  that  he  was 
intoxicated  twice  or  thrice  during  the  day. 
I  took  away  the  cup,  and  he  has  returned  to 
his  former  sobriety.  Again,  I  cast  the  pil- 
grim into  the  river ;  and  know,  that  he  whom 
I  drowned  was  a  good  Christian,  but  had  he 
proceeded  much  further,  he  would  have  fallen 
into  a  mortal  sin.  Now  he  is  saved,  and 
reigns  in  celestial  glory.  Then,  that  I  be- 
stowed the  cup  upon  the  inhospitable  citizen, 


280     OF  THE  CUNNING  OF  THE  DEVIL. 

know,  nothing  is  done  without  reason.  He 
suffered  us  to  occupy  the  swine  house,  and  I 
gave  him  a  valuable  consideration.  But  he 
will  hereafter  reign  in  hell.  Put  a  guard, 
therefore,  on  thy  lips,  and  detract  not  from 
the  Almighty.  For  He  knoweth  all  things." 
The  hermit,  hearing  this,  fell  at  the  feet  of  the 
angel  and  entreated  pardon.  He  returned  to 
his  hermitage,  and  became  a  good  and  pious 
Christian.  (68) 


NOTES. 


NOTE  1.     Page  4. 

"  THE  latter  part  of  this  story  is  evidently  oriental. 
The  feudal  manners,  in  a  book  which  professes  to 
record  the  achievements  of  the  Roman  people,  are 
remarkable  in  the  introductory  circumstances.  But 
of  this  mixture  we  shall  see  many  striking  in- 
stances."— WAETON. 

NOTE  2.     Page  6. 

"  Precious  skin." 

Attempts,  like  the  present,  to  strain  every  thing 
into  an  allegory,  are  very  frequent  in  these  "  mysti- 
cal and  moral  applications."  It  is  for  this  reason, 
among  others,  that  I  thought  it  right  to  abridge 
them ;  for  while  the  reader's  patience  was  exhausted 


282  NOTES. 

his  feelings  would  revolt,  as  well  at  the  absurdity, 
as  at  the  apparent  impiety  of  the  allusion. 

NOTE  3.     Page  19. 

The  deliverance  of  the  youth  by  the  lady,  resembles 
the  236th  Night  of  the  Arabian  tales.— The  Gest  is 
mentioned  by  "Warton  as  the  second  tale  in  his  ana- 
lysis ;  and  two  or  three  other  variations  occur. 
"What  edition  he  followed  I  know  not.  I  have  ex- 
amined five  *. — The  sentiment  conveyed  by  this 
tale,  (p.  18),  that  she  who  has  deceived  her  father  will 
deceive  her  husband,  is  thus  expressed  by  Shak- 
speare — 

"  Look  to  her,  Moor  ;  have  a  quick  eye  to  see  ; 
She  has  deceived  her  father,  and  may  thee" 

Othello,  Act  I.  Sc.  3. 

*  In  an  18tno.  edition  of  the  GESTA  ROMA.NORUM,  pub- 
lished at  Leyden,  1555,  there  is  prefixed  to  the  fourth  tale,  by 
way  of  argument,  the  following  remarkable  passage.  "  Justitia 
nempe  et  misericordia  Deorum  maxime  est :  ad  quos  non 
possumus  expeditiiis  et  proprius  accedere,  quam  his  ducibus." 
This  is  literally  what  Shakspeare  makes  Portia  observe  in  the 
"  Merchant  of  Venice." 

"  But  MERCY  is  above  this  sceptered  sway, 
******** 

It  is  an  attribute  of  God  himself; 

An  earthly  power  doth  then  show  liJsesl  God's, 

When  mercy  seasons  justice." — Act.  IV.  Sc.  1. 


NOTES.  283 

5.     Page  27. 

"This  story,  but  with  a  difference  of  circum- 
stances, ends  like  the  beautiful  apologue  of  the  Pro- 
digal Son."  — 


NOTE  6.     Page  32. 

This  fable  is  very  well  told  by  Gower,  but  with 
some  variations. 

[The  letters  printed  in  Italics  are  to  be  pronounced 
as  separate  syllables  ;  the  acute  mark  denotes  the 
emphasis.] 

Ere  Eom-<?  came  to  the  creance1]1 
Of  Christ-es  faith,  it  fell  perchance 
Caesar,  which  then  was  emperour, 
Him  list-e  for  to  do  hon6ur 
Unto  the  temple  Apollinis  ; 
And  made  an  image  upon  this, 
The  which  was  cleped  2  Apollo, 
Was  none  so  rich  in  Eom-e  tho  3. 

Of  plate  of  gold,  a  beard  he  had, 
The  which  his  breast  all  over  spradde  4. 

Of  gold  also,  withouten  fail, 
His  mantle  was  of  large  entayle  5. 

1  Belief.  2  Called.  3  Then.  4  Spread. 

5  Cut  ;  from  the  French  entailler. 


284  NOTES. 

Be-set  with  perrey l  all  about. 
Forth  right  he  stretched  his  finger  out, 
Upon  the  which  he  had  a  ring — 
To  see  it,  was  a  rich-e  thing, 
A  fine  carbuncle  for  the  nones  2, 
Most  precious  of  all  stones. 

And  fell  that  time  in  K-om-e  thus, 
There  was  a  clerk,  one  Lucius, 
A  courtier,  a  famous  man  ; 
Of  every  wit 3  somewhat  he  can, 
Out-take,4  that  him  lacketh  rule, 
His  own  estate  to  guide  and  rule ; 
How  so  it  stood  of  his  speaking, 
He  was  not  wise  in  his  doing ; 
But  every  riot-e  at  last 
Must  need- es  fall,  and  may  not  last. 
After  the  need  of  his  desert, 
So  fell  this  clerk-e  in  poverte, 
And  wist  not  how  for  to  rise 
Whereof  in  many  a  sundry  wise 
He  cast  his  wit-e*  here  and  there, 
He  looketh  nigh,  he  looketh  far. 
Fell  on  a  tim-e  that  he  come 
Into  the  temple,  and  heed  nome 5 

1  Pearls.        2  Purpose.       3  Knowledge.       4  Except. 
5  Took. 


NOTES.  285 

Where  that  the  god  Apollo  stood ; 
He  saw  the  riches,  and  the  good J ; 
And  thought  he  wold-e  by  some  way, 
The  treasure  pick  and  steal  away. 
And  thereupon  so  slily  wrought, 
That  his  purpose  about  he  brought. 
And  went  away  unaperceived : 
Thus  hath  the  man  his  god  deceived — 
His  ring,  his  mantle,  and  his  beard, 
As  he  which  nothing  was  afeared, 
All  privily  with  him  he  bare  ; 
And  when  the  wardens  were  aware 
Of  that,  their  god  despoiled  was, 
They  thought  it  was  a  wondrous  case, 
How  that  a  man  for  any  weal, 
Durst  in  so  holy  plac-e  steal, 
And  nam-e-ly,  so  great  a  thing ! — 
This  tale  cam-e  unto  the  king, 
And  was  through  spoken  over-all. 
But  for  to  know  in  special, 
What  manner  man  hath  done  the  deed, 
They  soughten  help  upon  the  need, 
And  maden  calculati6n 
Whereof  by  demonstrati6n 
The  man  was  found-e  with  the  good. 
In  judgment,  and  when  he  stood, 
1  Goods. 


286  NOTES. 

The  king  hath  asked  of  him  thus — 
"  Say,  thou  unsely :  Lucius, 
Why  hast  thou  done  this  sacrilege  ?" 
"  My  lord,  if  I  the  cause  allege," 
(Quoth  he  again,)  "  me-thinketh  this, 
That  I  have  done  nothing  amiss. 
Three  points  there  be,  which  I  have  do, 
"Whereof  the  firsts  point  stands  so, 
That  I  the  ring  have  ta'en  away — 
Unto  this  point  this  will  I  say. 
When  I  the  god  beheld  about, 
I  saw  how  he  his  hand  stretched  out, 
And  proffered  me  the  ring  to  yeve  2 ; 
And  I,  which  wold-e  gladly  live 
Out  of  poverte  thro'  his  largess, 
It  underfang 3,  so  that  I  guess  ; 
And  therefore,  am  I  nought  to  wite  4. 

And  evermore,  I  will  me  'quit 5, 
Of  gold  that  I  the  mantle  took : 
Gold  in  his  kind,  as  saith  the  book, 
Is  .heavy  both,  and  cold  also ; 
And  f6r  that  it  was  heavy  so, 
Methought  it  was  no  garn-e-ment 6 
Unto  the  god  convenient, 

1  Foolish.          2  Give.  3  Accepted.          4  Blame 

5  Acquit.  6  Garment. 


NOTES.  287 

To  clothen  him  the  summer  tide 1: 
I  thought  upon  that  other  side, 
How  gold  is  cold,  and  such  a  cloth 
By  reason  ought-e  to  be  lothe  2 
In  winter  tim-e  for  the  chiel. 
And  thus  thinking  thought-es  fele  * 
As  I  mine  eye  about-e  cast, 
His  larg-e  beard-  e  then  at  last 
I  saw  ;  and  thought  anon  therefore 
How  that  his  father  him  before, 
Which  stood  upon  the  sam-e  place, 
Was  beardless,  with  a  youngly  face. 
And  in  such  wise,  as  ye  have  heard 
I  took  away  the  son-nes  beard, 
For  that  his  father  had-e  none, 
To  make  him  like ;  and  hereupon 
I  ask  for  to  be  excused." 

Lo,  thus  where  sacrilege  is  used, 
A  man  can  feign  his  conscience ; 
And  right  upon  such  evidence 
In  lov-os  cause  if  I  shall  treat, 
There  be  of  such-e  small  and  great 
If  they  no  leisure  find-e  else, 
They  will  not  wend-e  for  the  bells  ; 

1  Time.  2  Warm.  3   Many. 


288  NOTES. 

Not  tho'  they  see  the  priest  at  mass — 
That  will  they  letten  over-pass  : 
If  that  they  find  their  lov-e  there 
They  stand,  and  tellen  in  her  ear  ; 
And  ask  of  Grod  none  other  grace, 
"Whil-e  they  be  in  that  holy  place. 
But  ere  they  go,  some  advantage 
There  will  they  have ;  and  some  pillage 
Of  goodly  word,  or  of  behest ; 
Or  else  they  taken  at  the  least 
Out  of  her  hand  a  ring  or  glove, 
So  nigh,  the  weder1  they  will  hove2 —  ' 
As  who  saith,  "  She  shall  not  forget 
Now  I  this  token  of  her  have  get." 
Thus  hallow  they  the  high-e  feast, 
Such  theft-e  may  no  church  arrest  3, 
For  all  is  lawful  that  them  liketh, 
To  whom  that  els-e  it  misliketh, 
And  eke  right  in  the  self  kind  4 
In  great  cities  men  may  find. 
Thus  lusty  folk,  that  make  them  gay, 
And  wait  upon  the  holy  day, 
In  churches,  and  in  minsters  eke, 
They  go  the  women  for  to  seek, 

1  Madder.  Sax.    veban,  insanire.        2  Heave  or  go. 
3  Stop.  4  Self-same  kind. 


NOTES.  289 

And  where  that  such  one  goeth  about, 
Before  the  fairest  of  the  rout ; 
"Where  as  they  sitten  all  a  row, 
There  will  he  most  his  body  show ; 
His  crooked  kempt1  and  thereon  set 
An  ouch-e2  with  a  chap-0-let, 
Or  else  one  of  green  leaves, 
Which  late  come  out-e  of  the  greves3. 
All  for  4  he  should  seem  fresh : 
And  thus  he  looketh  on  his  flesh, 
Eight  as  a  hawk  which  hath  a  sight 
Upon  the  fowl,  there  he  shall  light : 
And  as  he  were  a  faery, 
He  sheweth  him  before  her  eye, 
In  holy  plac-e  where  they  sit, 
All  for  to  make  their  heart- es  flytte5 

His  eye  no  where  will  abide, 
But  look  and  pry  on  every  side, 
On  her  and  her,  as  him  best  liketh, 
And  other  while,  among  he  siketh6 ; 
Thinketh  "  One  of  them  that  was  for  me," 
And  so  there  thinketh  two  or  three ; 

i.  e.  His  crooked  or  disorderly  hair,  combed. 
2  Brooch.  3  Woods.  4  In  order  that. 

5  Beat,  palpitate.  6  Sigheth. 

VOL     I,  O 


290  NOTES. 

And  yet  he  loveth  none  at  all, 
But  where  as  ever  his  chanc-e  fall. 

And  nath-e-less  to  say  a  sooth 
The  cause  why  that  he  so  doth, 
Is  for  to  steal  a  heart  or  two, 
Out  of  the  church  ere  that  he  go. 
And  as  I  said  it  here  above, 
All  is  that  sacrilege  of  love, 
For  well  may  be  that  he  stealeth  away. 
That  he  never  after  yield  may1. 

"  Tell  me  for  this,  my  son,  anon, 
Hast  thou  done  sacrilege,  or  none2, 
As  I  have  said  in  this  manner  ?" 

"  My  father,  as  of  this  matter, 
I  will  you  tellen  readily 
"What  I  have  done ;  but  tru-e-ly 
I  may  excus-e  mine  intent 
That  I  never  yet  to  church  went 
In  such  manner  as  ye  me  shrive8, 
For  no  woman  that  is  alive. 
The  cause  why  I  have  it  laft4, 
May  be,  for  5  I  unto  that  craft, 
Am  nothing  able  for  to  steal, 
Though  there.be  women  not  so  fele 6. 

1  Restore  again.  2  Not.  3  Confess  to  me. 

4  Left.  5  Because.  6  Never  so  many. 


NOTES.  291 

But  yet  will  I  not  say-e  this, 

When  I  am  where  my  lady  is, 

In  whom  lieth  wholly  my  quarrel, 

And  she  to  church  or  to  chapel, 

Will  go  to  matins  or  to  mess1, 

That  time  I  wait-e  well  and  guesa. 

To  church  I  come,  and  there  I  stand, 

And  tho'2 1  take  a  book  in  hand, 

My  countenance  is  on  the  book, 

But  toward  her  is  all  my  look ; 

And  if  so  fallen  3  that  I  pray 

Unto  my  G-od,  and  somewhat  say 

Of  Pater  Noster,  or  of  creed, 

All  is  for  that  I  wold-e  speed, 

So  that  my  bead  in  holy  church, 

There  might-e  some  miracle  wirche  4, 

My  lady's  heart-e  for  to  change, 

Which  ever  hath  been  to  me  so  strange, 

So  that  all  my  devotion, 

And  all  my  contemplation, 

With  all  mine  heart,  and  my  courage, 

Is  only  set  on  her  image, 

And  ever  I  wait-e  upon  the  tide, 

If  she  look  any  thing  aside, 

1  Mass.  2  If.  3  Bt'faUpn. 

4  Work. 

0  2 


292  NOTES. 

That  I  me  may  of  her  advise  : 
Anon  I  am  with  covertise  l 
So  smit,  that  me  were  lefe2 
To  be  in  holy  church  a  thief. 
But  not  to  steal,  a  vest-e-ment, 
For  that  is  nothing  my  talent ; 
But  I  would  steal,  if  that  I  might, 
A'  glad  word,  or  a  goodly  sight. 
And  ever  my  service  I  proffer, 
And  namely,  when  she  will  go,  offer  ; 
Tor  then  I  lead  her,  if  I  may  : 
For  somewhat  would  I  steal  away 
"When  I  beclip  her  on  the  waist ; 
Yet  at  least,  I  steal  a  taste. 
And  other  while  '  grant  mercy  V 
She  saith.     And  so  were  I  thereby 
A  lusty  touch,  a  good  word  eke, 
But  all  the  rem-e-nant  to  seek, 
Is  from  my  purpose  wonder  far. 
So  may  I  say,  as  I  said  ere  4, 
In  holy  church  if  that  I  vow, 
My  con-5«-ence  I  would  allow 
Be  so,  that  on  amend-^-ment, 
I  might-2  get  assign-e-ment 5  ; 

1  Desire.  2  Fair.  3  Great  thanks 

4  Beiort .  5  Assignation. 


NOTES.  293 

Where,  for  to  speed  in  other  place, 
Such  sacrilege  I  hold  a  grace. 

"  And  thus,  my  father,  sooth  to  say, 
In  church- e  right  as  in  the  way, 
If  I  might  ought  of  lov-e  take 
Such  hansel1  have  I  nought  forsake. 
But  finally,  I  me  confess, 
There  is  in  me  no  holiness, 
While  her  I  see  in  holy  stead  ^ 
And  yet  for  aught  that  ever  I  did, 
No  sacrilege  of  her  I  took, 
But 2  it  were  of  word  or  look, 
Or  els-e  if  that  I  her  freed3 
When  I  toward  offering  4  her  lead, 
Take  thereof  what  I  take  may, 
For  els-e  bear  I  nought  away. 
For  tho'  I  wold-e  ought  else  have, 
All  other  thing- es  be  so  safe, 
And  kept  with  such  a  privilege, 
That  I  may  do  no  sacrilege. 
God  wote  5  my  will  nath-e-less, 
Tho'  I  must  need-e«  keep-e  peace, 

1  "Estreine;  handselled:  that  hath  the  handsell  or  first  use 
of."     COTGRAVB.     The  word  is  still  extant. 

2  Except.  3  This  perhaps  signifies  made  free  with. 
4  Altar ;  place  of  offering.  5  Knows. 

o  3 


294  NOTES. 

And  maugre  mine  so  let  it  pass, 
My  will  thereto  is  not  the  lass 1, 
If  I  might  otherwise  away. 

"  For  this,  my  father,  I  you  pray 
Tell  what  you  thinketh  thereupon, 
If  I  thereof  have  guilt  or  none." 

"  Thy  will,  my  son,  is  for  to  blame, 
The  rem-e-nant  is  but  a  game 
That  I  have  thee  told  as  yet. 
But  take  this  lore  into  thy  wit, 
That  all  things  have  time  and  stead. 
The  church  serveth  for  the  bead 2, 
The  chamber  is  of  an  other  speech  : 
But  if  thou  wistest  of  the  wreche  2, 
How  sacrilege  it  hath  abought, 
Thou  woldest  better  be  bethought." 

Confessio  Amantis,  Lib.  V, 
fol.  122,  ed.  1532. 

I  have  transcribed  the  whole  of  this  tale,  (though 
the  latter  part  of  it  is  but  the  moral)  because  of 
the  truth  and  nature  with  which  it  is  replete.  Oar 
churches  are  filled  in  this  day  with  too  many  of  the 
characters  described  so  admirably  by  Grower. 

Ibid.  "  For  two  especial  reasons  took  away  the 
beard.  The  first  was,  that  she  should  look  more  like 
1  Less..  2  Prayer.  3  Work. 


NOTES.  295 

her  author  and  not  grow  too  proud  of  her  golden 
beard.'1  P.  31. 

This  idea  seems  to  have  arisen  from  a  witticism 
of  Dionysius  the  tyrant  of  Syracuse,  recorded  by 
Valerius  Maximus,  lib.  1.  Cap.  1.  ex.  37. 

"  Idem  Epidauri  ^Esculapio  barbam  auream  demi 
jussit :  quod  affirmaret,  non  convenire  patrem  Apol- 
linem  imberbem,  ipsum  barbatum*" 


NOTE  7.     Page  45. 

"  This  story  is  founded  on  the  twenty- eighth 
chapter  of  Aristotle's  SECEETTJM  SECRETOBTJM  :  in 
which  a  queen  of  India  is  said  to  have  treacherously 
sent  to  Alexander,  among  other  costly  presents,  the 
pretended  testimonies  of  her  friendship,  a  girl  of 
exquisite  beauty,  who  having  been  fed  with  serpents 
from  her  infancy,  partook  of  their  nature.  If  I 
recollect  right,  in  Pliny,  there  are  accounts  of  na- 
tions whose  natural  food  was  poison.  Mithridates, 
king  of  Pontus,  the  land  of  venomous  herbs,  and 
the  country  of  the  sorceress  Medea,  was  supposed 
to  eat  poison.  Sir  John  Mandeville's  Travels,  I 
believe,  will  afford  other  instances." — 


296  NOTES. 

NOTE  8.     Page  49. 

The  Church  of  England  holds  the  same  doctrine 
which  this  beautiful  tale  inculcates.  "  Although  in 
the  visible  Church,  the  evil  be  ever  mingled  with 
the  good,  and  sometimes  the  evil  have  chief  autho- 
rity in  the  ministration  of  the  word  and  sacraments ; 
yet  forasmuch  as  they  do  not  the  same  in  their  own 
name,  but  in  Christ's,  and  do  minister  by  his  com- 
mission and  authority,  we  may  use  their  ministry, 
both  in  hearing  the  word  of  God,  and  in  receiving 
of  the  Sacraments.  Neither  is  the  effect  of  Christ's 
ordinance  taken  away  by  their  wickedness,  nor  the 
grace  of  God's  gifts  diminished  from  such  as  by 
faith,  and  rightly,  do  receive  the  sacraments  minis- 
tered unto  them;  which  be  effectual  because  of 
Christ's  institution  and  promise,  although  they  be 
ministered  by  evil  men."  Article  XXVI. 

NOTE  9.     Page  51. 
"  A  medicinal  tongue" 

Lovell,  in  his  PANZOOLOGICOMIKEBALOGIA  has 
enumerated  all  the  rare  properties  which  ancient 
medicine  attributed  to  dogs  ;  but  what  particular  vir- 
tue the  tongue  was  held  to  possess,  does  not  appear. 


NOTES.  297 

This  must  have  been  a  work  of  immense  labor ;  yet 
it  is  very  useless. 

NOTE  10.     Page  59. 

"  This  story  is  in  the  SPECULUM  HISTOBIALE  of 
Vincent  of  Beauvais,  who  wrote  about  the  year 
1250."  WAETON. 

NOTE.  11.     Page  61. 

"  Is  not  the  possession  of  one  thing  better  than  the 
expectation  of  two  ?" 

The  Latin  text  is,  "  Quotiens  ita  est  qu6d  aliquid 
est  sequale  duobus  ei  qui  est  praesens ;  magis  est  ad- 
haerendum."  Literally,  "How  often  does  it  happen 
that  one  thing  is  valued  as  much  as  two  by  him  who 
is  present :  [or,  by  him  who  has  it  in  possession :] 
It  is  therefore  to  be  adhered  to  the  most."  The 
sense  answers  to  the  English  proverb,  "  A  bird  in 
the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush." 

NOTE  12.     Page  77. 

"  Allexius,  or  Alexis,  was  canonised.   This  story 

is  taken  from  his  legend.     In  the  metrical  "  Lives 

of  the  Saints,"  this  life  is  told  in  a  sort  of  measure 

different  from  that  of  the  rest,  and  not  very  com- 

o5 


298  NOTES. 

mon  in  the  earlier  stages  of  our  poetry.     It  begins 
thus: — 

"  Listeneth  all,  and  hearkeneth  me, 
Young  and  old-<?,  bond  and  free, 

And  I  you  tellen  soon, 
How  a  stout  man,  gent  and  free, 
Began  this  world-es  weal  to  flee, 

Yborn  he  was  in  Home. 

"  In  Rom-e  was  a  doughty  man, 
That  was  yclept  Eufemian, 

Man  of  much  might ; 
Grold  and  silver  he  had  enows, 
Hall  and  bowers,  oxen  and  plows, 

And  very  well  it  dight." 

When  Alexius  returns  home  in  disguise,  and  asks 
his  father  about  his  son,  the  father's  feelings  are 
thus  described. 

"  So  soon  as  he  spake  of  his  son, 
The  good  man  as  was  his  wone  lt 

Gran  to  sigh  sore ; 
His  heart  fell  as  cold  as  stone, 
The  tears  fellen  to  his  ton2, 

On  his  beard  hoar. 

1  Wont.  2  Toes. 


NOTES.  299 

At  his  burial  many  miracles  are  wrought  on  the 
sick. 

"  With  mochel1  sighs,  and  mochel  song, 
That  holy  corse  them  all  among 
Bishops  to  church-e  bare. 

"  Amidst  right  the  high  street, 
So  much  folk  him  gone  meet, 

That  they  rest  a  stonde  2, 
All  they  sighed  that  to  him  come, 
And  healed  were  very  soon, 
Of  feet,  and  eke  of  honde." 

"  The  history  of  Saint  Alexius  is  told  entirely 
in  the  same  words  in  the  GESTA  ROMANOBTJM,  and 
in  the  LEGENDA  ATJBEA  of  Jacobus  de  Voraigne  3, 
translated  through  a  French  medium,  by  Caxton. 
This  work  of  Jacobus  does  not  consist  solely  of  the 
legends  of  the  saints,  but  is  interspersed  multis  aliis 
pulcherrimis  et  peregrinis  historiis,  with  many  other 
most  beautiful  and  strange  histories4." — WABTON. 
,  As  it  may  be  amusing  to  the  reader  to  compare 

1  Many.  2  A  moment. 

2  "  Hystor.  Ixxxix.  fol.  clviii.  edit,  1479,  fol,  and  in  Vincent 
of  Beaurais,  who  quotes  GESTA  ALEXII  SPECUL.  HIST.  Lib 
iviii.  cap.  43.  seq.  f.  241.  G."     WARTON. 

4  Warton  seems  to  be  in  error  respecting  this  work,  which 
he  confounds  with  "THE  LIVES  OF  THE  FATHERS,  translated. 
06 


300  NOTES. 

the  translation  in  the  text  with  that  executed  by  the 
venerable  patriarch  of  the  press,  "William  Caxton, 
in  the  fifteenth  century,  I  am  tempted  to  transcribe 
it.  There  are  many  little  additional  touches  of 
manners  which  the  antiquary  will  value ;  and  while 
the  general  reader  smiles  at  the  primitive  simplicity 
with  which  the  story  is  narrated,  he  will,  it  is  pre- 
sumed, derive  some  pleasure  from  the  strong  con- 
trast afforded  by  the  past  and  the  present  sera — 
from  the  elevated  situation  on  which  he  may  seem 
to  stand :  a  being,  as  it  were,  of  another  sphere ; 
asserting  the  pre-eminence  of  civilization  over  un- 
cultivated life:  the  polite  refinement  of  modern 
manners,  over  the  rude  character  of  remote  and 
barbarous  times. 


folotorttj  ttjc  Igfe  of  saent  31ms , 
And  fyrst  of  his  name. 

Alexis  is  as  moche  as  to  saye  as  goynge  out 
of  the  lawe  of  maryage  for  to  keep  virginite  for 

out  of  Frensshe  into  Englisshe  by  William  Caxton  of  West- 
minster, late  deed,  and  fynisshed  it  at  the  last  day  of  hys  lyff." 
The  GOLDEN  LEGEND  (properly  so  called)  consists  wholly  of 
the  legends  of  the  Saints;  but  the  LIVES  OF  THE  FATHERS  u 
interspersed  with  stories  of  the  character  given  above. 


NOTES.  301 


goddes  sake,  and  to  renounce  all  the  'pomp  and 
rychesses  of  the  worlde  for  to  lyue  in  pouerte. 


In  the  tyme  that  Archadius  and  Honorius  were 
emperours  of  Rome,  there  was  in  Borne  a  ryght 
noble  lord  named  Eufemyen,  which  was  chefe  and 
aboue  all  other  lordes  aboute  the  emperours,  and 
had  under  his  power  a  thousande  knyghtes.  He  was 
a  moche  iust  man  to  all  men,  and  also  he  was 
pyteous  and  mercyfull  unto  ye  poore.  For  he  had 
dayly  thre  tables  set  and  couered  for  to  fede  ye  or- 
phans, poor  wydowes,  and  pylgryms.  And  he  ete 
at  the  houre  of  none  with  good  and  religyous  per- 
sones.  His  wyfe  y*  was  named  Aglaes  ledde  a 
religyous  lyfe.  But  by  cause  they  had  no  childe> 
they  prayed  to  god  to  send  them  a  sone  y*  myght  be 
theyr  heyr  after  them,  of  theyr  honour  and  goodes. 
It  was  so  that  god  herde  theyre  prayers,  and  beheld 
theyre  bounte  and  good  lyvnge,  and  gave  unto 
them  a  sone  which  was  named  Alexis,  whome  they 
dyd  to  be  taught  and  enfourmed  in  all  scyences  and 
honours.  After  this,  they  maryed  hym  unto  a  fayre 
damoysel,  which  was  of  ye  lygnage  of  ye  emperour 
of  Borne.  "Whan  the  daye  of  ye  weddynge  was 
comen  to  even,  Alexis  beynge  in  the  chambre  wh 


302  NOTES. 

his  wyfe  alone,  began  to  enfourme  and  enduce  her 
to  drede  god  and  serue  hym,  and  were  all  that  night 
togyder  in  right  good  doctryne,  and  fynably  he  gave 
to  his  wyfe  his  rynge  and  the  buckle  of  golde  of  hys 
gyrdle,  both  bounden  in  a  lytel  cloth  of  purple,  and 
sayd  to  her.  Fayre  sister,  haue  this,  and  kepe  it  as 
longe  as  it  shall  please  our  lord  god,  and  it  shall  be 
a  token  bytweene  us,  and  he  gyue  you  grace  to 
kepe  truly  your  virgynitie.  After  this  he  toke  of 
golde  and  syluer  a  grete  somme,  and  departed  alone 
fro  Home,  and  founde  a  shyppe  in  which  he  sayled 
in  to  Grece.  And  fro  thens  went  in  to  Surrye 1, 
and  came  to  a  city  called  Edessia,  and  gaue  there 
all  his  money  for  the  loue  of  Grod,  and  clad  hym  in 
a  cote,  and  demaunded  almes  for  goddes  sake  lyke  a 
poore  man  tofore  the  chirche  of  our  lady,  and  what 
he  lefte  of  the  almesses  aboue  his  necessity,  he  gaue 
it  to  other  for  goddes  sake,  and  euery  sondaye  he 
was  housled  and  receyved  the  sacrament,  suche  a 
lyfe  he  ladde  longe.  Some  of  ye  messengers  yl  his 
father  had  sent  to  seche  hym  through  all  the  partyes 
of  the  world  came  to  seek  hym  in  the  sayd  cyte 
of  Edyssia  and  gaue  unto  hym  theyr  almes,  he 
syttynge  tofore  the  chirche  with  other  poore  people, 
but  they  knew  hym  not,  and  he  knewe  well  them, 

1  Syria. 


NOTES.  303 

and  thanked  our  Lord,  sayenge — I  thank  the  fayre 
lorde  Jesu  Chryst  y*  thou  vouchest  safe  to  call  me, 
and  to  take  almes  in  thy  name  of  my  seruants,  I 
praye  the  to  perfourm  in  me  that  which  thou  hast 
begon.  Whan  the  messengers  were  returned  to 
Borne,  and  Eufemyen  his  fader  sawe  they  had  not 
founden  his  sone,  he  layd  hym  down  upon  amatres 
stratchynge  on  the  erth,  waylynge  and  sayd  thus,  I 
shal  holde  me  here  and  abide  tyll  y4  I  have  tyd- 
ynges  of  my  sone.  And  ye  wyfe  of  his  sone  Alexis 
sayd  wepynge  to  Eufemyen,  I  shal  not  departe  out 
of  your  hous,  but  shal  make  me  semblable  and  lyke 
to  the  turtle,  whiche  after  y  *  she  hath  lost  her  felowe 
wyl  take  none  other,  but  all  her  lyfe  after  lyveth 
chaste.  In  lyke  wyse,  I  shall  refuse  all  felowshyp 
unto  ye  tyme  y1  I  shall  knowe  where  my  ryghte 
swete  frende  is  becomen.  After  that  Alexis  had 
done  his  penaunce  by  ryght  grete  poverte  in  ye  sayd 
cyte,  and  ledde  a  ryght  holy  lyfe  by  y.e  space  of 
xvij  yere,  there  was  a  voyce  herde  y*  came  fro  god 
unto  the  chirche  of  our  lady  and  said  to  the  porter, 
Make  the  man  of  god  to  entre  in,  for  he  is  worthy 
to  haue  the  kingdome  of  heven,  and  the  spiryte  of 
god  resteth  on  hym.  Whan  the  clerke  coude  not 
fynde  ne  knowe  hym  amonge  the  other  poor  men, 
he  prayed  unto  god  to  shewe  to  hym  who  it  was. 
1 


304  NOTES. 

And  a  voyce  came  from  heven  and  sayd,  he  sytteth 
without  tofore  the  entre  of  the  chirche.  And  so  the 
clerke  founde  hym,  and  prayd  hym  humbly  that  he 
wolde  come  into  ye  chirche.     Whan  this  myracle 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  people,  and  Alexis 
eawe  that  men  dyd  to  hym  honour  and  worshyp, 
anone  for  to  eschewe  vaynglory  he  departed  fro 
thens  and  came  into  Grrece  when  he  toke  shyppe, 
and  entred  for  to  go  to  Cecyle1,  but  as  god  wold 
there  arose  a  grete  wynde  which  made  the  shyppe  to 
arryue  at  the  porte  of  Rome.     When  Alexis  sawe 
this,  anone  he  sayd  to  hymselfe,  By  the  grace  of 
god  I  wyl  charge  no  man  of  Eome,  I  wyl  go  to  my 
fader's  hous  in  such  wyse  as  I  shal  not  be  beknowen 
of  ony  person.     And  when  he  was  within  Rome  he 
mette  Eufemyen  his  fader  which  came  fro  ye  palays 
of  ye  emperours  wh  a  grete  meyny  2  followynge  hym. 
And  Alexis  hys  sone  a  poore  man  ranne  cryenge 
and  sayd.     Sergeaunt  of  god  haue  pyte  on  me  that 
am  a  poor  pylgrym,  and  receyve  me  into  thy  hous 
for  to  haue  my  sustenaunce  of  ye  relefe  y*  shall  come 
fro  thy  borde,  that  god  [may]  blysse  the,  and  haue 
pyte  on  thy  sone,  which  is  also  a  pyigrym.    Whan 
Eufemyen  herde  speke  of  his  sone,  anone  his  herte 
began  to  melt  and  sayd  to  hys  servauntes,  Whiche 

1  Sicily.      ,2  Many;  NORM.  FR.  Commonly  a  household. 


NOTES.  305 

of  you  wyl  haue  py  te  on  this  man,  and  take  y'  cure 
and  charge  of  hym.     I  shall  deliver  hym  from  hys 
servage  and  make  him  free,  and  shall  gyve  hym 
of   myn   herytage.       And   anone  he   commysed * 
hym  to  one  of  his  servauntes,  and  commaunded 
y*  his  bedde  sholde  be  made  in  a  corner  of  ye 
hall,  whereas   comers   and  goers  myght  se  hym. 
And  the  servaunt  to  whom  Alexis  was  commaunded 
to  kepe  made  anone  his  bedde  under  the  stayr  and 
steppes  of  the  hall.     And  there  he  lay  right  like  a 
poore  wretche,  and  suffred  many  vylanyes  and  de- 
spytes  of  the  servauntes  of  his  fader,  which  oft 
tymes'cast  and  threwe  on  hym  ye  wasshynge  of 
disshes  and  other  fylth,  and  dyd  to  hym  many  euill 
turnes,  and  mocked  hym,  but  he  neuer  complayned, 
but   suffered   all  pacyently  for  the  loue  of  god. 
Finally  whan  he  had  ledde   this  right  holy  lyfe 
w'in  his  faders  hous  in  fastynge,  in  prayenge,  and 
in  penaunce  by  the  space  of  vij  yere,  and  knewe 
that  he  sholde  soon  dye,  he  prayed  the  servaunt  y1 
kepte  hym  to  gyve  hym  a  pece  of  parchement  and 
ynke.     And  therein  he  wrote  by  ordre  all  hys  lyfe 
and  now  he  was  maryed  by  the  commaundement  of 
his  fader,  and  what  he  had  sayd  to  hys  wife,  and  of 
the  tokens  of  hys  rynge  and  bocle  of  hys  gyrdell, 

1  Committed, 
o  9 


306  NOTES. 

that  he  had  gyuen  to  her  at  his  departynge,  and 
what  he  had  suffered  for  goddes  sake.  And  all 
this  dyd  he  for  to  make  his  fader  to  understande 
that  he  was  his  sone.  After  this  whan  it  pleased 
god  for  to  shewe  and  manyfest  the  vyctory  of  our 
lorde  Jesu  Christ  in  his  servaunt  Alexis.  On  a 
tyme  on  a  sondaye  after  masse  herynge  all  the  peo- 
ple in  the  chirche,  there  was  a  voyce  herde  from 
god  cryenge  and  sayenge  as  is  sayd  Mathei  unde- 
cimo  capitulo.  Come  unto  me  ye  that  labour  and 
be  trauayled,  I  shall  comfort  you.  Of  which  voyce 
all  the  people  were  abasshed,  whiche  anonefelldowne 
unto  the  erth.  And  the  voyce  sayd  agayne.  Seche 
ye  the  servaunt  of  god,  for  he  prayeth  for  all  Rome, 
And  they  sought  hym,  but  he  was  not  founden. 

^[  Alexis  in  a  mornynge  on  a  good  fry  day  e  gaue 
his  soul  to  god,  and  departed  out  of  this  worlde. 
And  ye  same  daye  all  the  people  assembled  at  Saynt 
Peters  churche  and  prayed  god  y*  he  wolde  shewe 
to  them  where  the  man  of  god  myght  be  founden 
ye  prayed  for  Rome.  And  a  voyce  was  herde  tbat 
came  fro  god  that  sayd.  Ye  shall  find  hym  in  the 
hous  of  Eufemyen.  And  the  people  said  unto  Eu- 
femyen,  Why  hast  thou  hydde  fro  us,  thou  hast 
suche  grace  in  thy  hous.  And  Eufemyen  answered- 
God  knoweth  that  I  knowe  no  thynge  therof. 


NOTES.  307 

IT  Archadius  and  Honorius  y*  were  emperours  at 
Rome,  and  also  ye  pope  Innocent  commanded  y* 
men  shold  go  unto  Eufemyens  hous  for  to  enquyre 
diligently  tydynges  of  the  man  of  god.  Eufemyen 
went  tofore  with  his  servauntes  for  to  make  redy 
his  hous  agaynst  the  comynge  of  the  Pope  and  em- 
perours. And  whan  Alexis  wyfe  understode  the 
cause,  and  how  a  voyce  was  herde  that  came  fro 
god,  sayenge.  Seche  ye  y*  man  of  god  in  Eufe- 
myens hous,  anon  she  sayd  to  Eufemyen.  Syr  se 
yf  this  poore  man  that  ye  have  so  long  kepte  and 
herberowed  be  the  same  man  of  god,  I  have  well 
marked  that  he  hath  lyued  a  right  fayre  and  holy 
lyfe.  He  hath  euery  sondaye  receyved  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  awter.  He  hath  ben  ryght  religyous 
in  faatynge,  in  wakynge,  and  in  prayer,  and  hath 
suffred  pacyently  and  debonayrly  of  our  servauntes 
many  vylanyes.  And  when  Eufemyen  had  herde 
all  this,  he  ran  toward  Alexis  and  founde  hym  deed. 
He  dyscouered  his  visage,  whiche  shone  and  was 
bryght  as  ye  face  of  an  auugell.  And  anone  he 
returned  towarde  ye  emperours  and  sayd.  We 
have  founden  the  man  of  god  that  we  sought.  And 
tolde  unto  them  how  he  had  herberowed  hym,  and 
how  the  holy  man  had  lyued,  and  also  how  he 
was  deed,  and  that  he  helde  a  byll  or  lettre  in  his 


308  NOTES. 

hande  which  they  might  not  drawe  out.  Anone  the 
emperours  with  the  pope  went  to  Eufemyens  hous, 
and  came  tofore  the  bedde  where  Alexis  lay  deed 
and  sayd.  How  well  that  we  be  synners,  yet  neuer- 
theless  we  governe  ye  worlde,  and  loo  here  is  y 
pope  and  generall  fader  of  all  the  chirche,  and  gyve 
us  the  lettre  y*  thou  holdest  in  thyn  hande,  for  to 
knowe  what  is  the  wrytyng  of  it.  And  the  pope 
wente  tofore  and  toke  the  lettre,  and  toke  it  to  his 
notary  for  to  rede.  And  ye  notary  redde  tofore  the 
pope,  the  emperours  and  all  the  people.  And  whan 
he  came  to  the  poynt  that  made  mencyon  of  his 
fader  and  of  his  moder,  and  also  of  his  wyfe,  and 
that  by  the  enseygnes  l  that  he  had  gyuen  to  his 
wyfe  at  his  departynge,  his  rynge  and  bocle  of  his 
gyrdle  wrapped  in  a  lytell  purple  clothe  at  his  de- 
partynge. Anone  Eufemyen  fell  downe  in  a  swoone, 
and  whan  he  came  agayne  to  hymself  he  began  to 
draw  his  heres  and  bette  his  brest  and  fell  downe  on 
the  corps  of  Alexis  his  sone,  and  kyssed  it,  wepyng 
and  cryenge  in  ryght  grete  sorrowe  of  herte,  say- 
enge.  Alas  ryght  swete  son  wherefore  hast  thou 
made  me  to  suifre  suche  sorowe,  thou  sawest  what 
sorowe  and  heuynes  we  had  for  the,  alas  why  haddest 
thou  no  pit e  on  us  in  so  long  tyme,  how  myghtest 

1  Signs,  tokens. 


NOTES.  309 

thou  suffre  thy  moder  and  thy  father  wepe  so  moche 
for  the,  and  thou  sawest  it  well  without  takyng 
pyte  on  us.  I  supposed  to  have  herd  some  tyd- 
ynges  of  the,  and  now  I  se  the  lye  deed,  whiche 
sh oldest  be  my  solace  in  myne  age,  alas  what  solace 
may  I  haue  that  se  my  right  dere  son  deed,  me 
were  better  dye  than  lyve.  Whan  the  moder  of 
Alexis  sawe  and  herd  this,  she  came  rennynge  lyke 
a  lyonesse  and  cryed,  Alas !  alas !  drawing  her 
heere  in  grete  sorrowe,  scratchyng  her  pappes 
with  her  nayles  sayenge.  These  pappes  haue  gyven 
the  souke,  and  whan  she  myght  not  come  to  the 
corps  for  the  foyson  of  people  y*  was  come  thyder, 
she  cried  and  said.  Make  rome  and  waye  to  me 
sorrowful  moder  y*  I  may  se  my  desyre  and  my 
dere  son  that  I  have  engendered  and  nourisshed. 
And  as  soon  as  she  came  to  the  body  of  her  sone, 
she  fell  downe  on  it  pyteously  and  kyssed  it,  say- 
enge thus.  Alas  for  sorowe  my  dere  son,  ye  lyght 
of  myn  age,  why  hast  thou  made  us  suffre  so  moche 
sorow,  thou  sawest  thy  fader,  and  me  thy  sorrow  e- 
full  moder  so  ofte  wepe  for  the,  and  woldest  ceuer 
make  to  us  semblaunt  of  sone 1.  O  all  ye  y*  haue 
ye  hert  of  a  moder,  wepe  ye  with  me  upon  my  dere 
sone,  whome  I  haue  had  in  my  hous  vij.  yere  as  a 

1  That  is— Shew  that  thou  wert  our  son. 


310  NOTES. 

poore  man,  to  whome  my  servauntes  Lave  done 
moche  vylany.  A !  fayre  sone  thou  hast  suffred 
them  right  swetely  and  debonayrly.  Alas,  thou 
that  were  my  trust,  my  comforte,  and  my  solace  in 
myn  olde  age,  how  mightest  thou  hide  ye  from  me, 
that  am  thy  sorowfull  moder,  who  shall  gyve  to  myn 
eyen  from  hens  forth  a  fountayn  of  teres  for  to 
make  payne  unto  ye  sorowe  of  my  herte.  And  after 
this  came  the  wyfe  of  Alexis  in  wepyng  throwynge 
herselfe  upon  the  body,  and  with  grete  syghes  and 
heuyness  sayd,  Eight  swete  frende  and  spouse 
whome  longe  I  haue  desyred  to  se,  and  chastely  I 
haue  to  ye  kept  myselfe  lyke  a  turtle  y*  alone  with- 
out make 1  wayleth  and  wepeth,  and  loo  here  is  my 
ryght  swete  husbonde,  whome  I  have  desyred  to  se 
alyue,  and  now  I  se  hym  deed,  fro  hens  forth  I 
wote  not  in  whome  I  shall  haue  fyaunce  ne  hope. 
Certes  my  solace  is  deed,  and  in  sorowe  I  shall  be 
unto  ye  deth.  For  now  fortho 2 1  am  ye  most  un- 
happy amonge  all  women,  and  rekened  amonge  the 
sorowfull  wydowes.  And  after  these  pyteous  com- 
playntes  ye  people  wepte  for  the  deth  of  Alexis. 
The  pope  made  the  body  to  be  taken  up  and.  to  be 
put  into  a  shryne,  and  borne  unto  ye  chirche.  And 
whan  it  was  borne  through  ye  cyte  ryght  grete 

1  Partner,  companion.  2  Henceforward. 


NOTES.  311 

foyson1  of  people  came  agaynst  it  and  sayd.  The 
man  of  god  is  founden  y*  the  cyte  sought.  "What 
somever  sike  body  myght  touch  the  shryne,  he  was 
anone  heled  of  his  malady. 

There  was  a  blynde  man  y*  recouered  hys  syght, 
and  lame  and  other  he  heled.  The  emperour  made 
grete  foyson  of  golde  and  syluer  to  be  throwen 
amonge  ye  people  for  to  make  waye  y*  the  shryne 
myght  passe.  And  thus,  by  grete  labour  and  reue- 
rence,  was  borne  the  body  of  Saint  Alexis  unto  the 
churche  of  Saynt  Bonyface,  ye  glorious  martyr. 
And  there  was  the  body  put  in  a  shryne  moche  ho- 
nourably made  of  gold  and  syluer,  ye  seuenth  daye 
of  Juyll 2.  And  al  the  people  rendred  thankynges 
and  laudes  to  our  lorde  G-od  for  his  grete  myracles, 
unto  whome  be  gyuen  honour,  laude  and  glory  in 
secula  seculorum.  Amen3. 


Prom  the  preceding  narratives,  the  reader  may 
discover  some  of  the  most  prominent  features  of  Ro- 
man Catholic  worship.  Let  us  glance  at  the  story. 
Here  is  a  young  man  connected  by  .the  closest  of  all 

1  Plenty,  number.  2  July. 

3  From  the  GOLDEN  LEGEND,  Ed.  1527.  Printed  by  Wynkyn 
de  Worde,  "  at  the  syyne  of  the  Sonne,"  in  Fleet-street. 


312  NOTES. 

ties  to  a  deserving  female,  whom  he  marries  to  read 
a  theological  lecture,  and  then  leave  a  prey  to  irre- 
mediable regret.  He  associates  with  a  number  of 
squalid  wretches,  and  exists  on  the  precarious  bounty 
of  strangers  in  the  most  unprofitable,  not  to  say 
knavish  indolence.  In  the  mean  time  his  broken 
hearted  parents  are  devoured  by  an  intense  anxiety, 
of  which  he  is  totally  regardless.  I  pass  the  mira- 
culous part  of  this  veritable  history ;  if  Prince  Ho- 
henlohe's  marvels  deserve  credit,  it  would  be  incon- 
gruous and  inconsistent  to  refuse  it  here.  Our 
"  pious  jJEneas,"  disguised  in  the  accumulated  filth 
of  seventeen  years,  returns  to  his  father's  house. 
Here  he  breeds  a  race  of  vermin  ;  and  luxuriously 
battens  upon  the  garbage,  which  the  servants,  aware 
of  his  peculiar  taste,  plentifully,  and  one  might  think, 
properly,  communicated.  All  this  while  he  is  an  eye- 
witness, and  an  ear- witness,  of  the  misery  his  ab- 
sence occasions ;  and,  as  if  to  complete  the  perfec- 
tion of  such  a  character,  he  leaves  behind  him  a  scroll, 
of  which  the  only  effect  must  necessarily  be  to  arouse 
a  keener  agony,  and  to  quicken  a  dying  despair. 
And  this  is  the  monstrous  compound,  which  a  voice 
from  Heaven  proclaims  holy,  and  which  miracles  are 
called  in  to  sanction  !  This  is  to  be  emphatically,  a 
OF  GOD  !"  He,  who  neglects  every  relative 


NOTES.  313 

duty  ;  he  who  is  a  cruel  and  ungrateful  son,  a  bad 
husband,  and  careless  master ;  he  whose  whole  life 
is  to  consume  time,  not  to  employ  it — to  vegetate, 
but  not  to  exist — to  dream  away  life,  with  every 
sense  locked  up,  every  capability  destroyed,  every 
good  principle  uncultivated — and  that  too  in  the 
most  loathsome  and  degraded  condition — THIS,  is 
to  be  a  Man  of  God  ! 

That  the  story  before  us  contains  a  faithful  picture 
of  the  times,  and  of  many  succeeding  times  ;  that  it 
describes  the  prevailing  tenets  of  Popery,  will  be 
generally  admitted.  Some,  indeed,  whose  charity 
"  hopeth  the  best,"  will  be  ready  to  believe,  that  the 
colours  of  an  imaginative  mind  have  been  scattered 
along  it ;  and  that,  however  correspondent  the  out- 
line may  be,  the  sketch  has  been  filled  up  by  the  aid 
of  exaggeration,  while  embellishment  has  stepped 
into  the  place  of  truth.  But  we  have  unfortunately 
too  many  prototypes  in  nature ;  history  is  too  co- 
pious in  examples  to  oblige  us  to  have  recourse  to 
fiction  for  an  illustrative  comment.  The  life  of  Ig- 
natius Loyola,  the  founder  of  the  order  of  Jesus, 
presents  a  very  singular  and  apposite  confirmation 
of  the  remark  ;  and  I  am  happy  to  have  received 
a  most  obliging  permission  to  extract  an  able  ar- 
ticle on  this  subject  from  a  late  number  of  the  Retro- 
spective Review — a  work,  which  I  have  no  hesita- 

YOL.    I.  P 


314  NOTES. 


tion  in  commending,  whether  for  the  soundness  of 
its  principles,  the  depth  and  accuracy  of  its  re- 
searches, or  the  high  intellectual  superiority  with 
which  it  has  hitherto  been  conducted 1. 

"  We  must  commence  our  history  in  the  year 
1491,  which  was  rendered  important  by  the  birth  of 
Ignatius,  who  first  saw  the  light  in  Spain,  in  the  dis- 
trict called  Gruipuscoa.  Being  descended  from  an 
ancient  family,  the  lords  of  Ognes  and  Loyola,  and 
moreover  well-shaped  and  of  a  lively  temper,  his 
father  destined  him  for  the  court,  where  he  was  sent 
at  an  early  age  as  page  to  king  Ferdinand.  Incited, 
however,  by  the  example  of  his  brothers,  who  had 
distinguished  themselves  in  the  army,  and  his  own 
love  of  glory,  he  soon  grew  weary  of  the  inactivity 
of  a  court  life,  and  determined  to  seek  renown  in 

1  This  production  deserves  every  share  of  public  favour;  and 
large  as  the  present  sale  is  said  to  be,  I  have  no  doubt  of  its  in- 
crease. The  nature  of  the  publication,  confined  as  it  is  to  past 
ages  of  literature,  will  probably  preclude  that  circulation  to  which 
its  merits  justly  entitle  it ;  but  no  man,  who  takes  an  interest  in 
the  progress  of  the  human  mind,  and  who  would  know  something 
of  works  formerly  so  popular,  though  now  subjected  to  the  muta. 
bilities  of  human  caprice,  "  to  time  and  chance,  which  happeneth 
to  all,"  will  neglect  an  occasion  of  acquiring  as  much  as  investi- 
gation can  achieve,  orability  communicate.  In  sup  port  of  these 
remarks  I  refer  to  an  article  on  CHAUCER  contained  in  the  Seven- 
teenth Number — not  perhaps  as  the  best,  but  as  one  among  many 
good. 


NOTES.  315 

war.  He  applied  himself  with  great  assiduity  and 
success  to  his  military  exercises,  and  soon  qualified 
himself  for  the  service  of  his  prince.  It  is  said,  that 
on  all  occasions  he  displayed  great  bravery  and  con- 
duct ;  but  the  writers  of  his  life  being  more  inte- 
rested in  the  detail  of  his  theological  warfare,  have 
passed  over  his  military  achievements  with  a  slight 
notice,  except  the  affair  which  was  the  more  imme- 
diate cause  of  what  is  called  his  conversion.  This 
was  the  siege  of  Pampeluna  by  the  French ;  on 
which  occasion  Don  Ignatius,  then  about  thirty 
years  of  age,  displayed  great  gallantry,  and  was 
wounded  by  a  splinter  in  his  left  leg,  and  his  right 
was  almost  at  the  same  moment  broken  by  a  cannon 
shot.  The  wounds  were  for  a  time  considered  dan- 
gerous ;  and  the  physicians  declared,  that  unless  a 
change  took  place  before  the  middle  of  the  night 
they  would  prove  fatal :  it  was  therefore  thought  ad- 
viseable  that  the  sacrament  should  be  administered 
to  him.  This  fortunately  happened  to  be  the  eve  of 
St.  Peter,  for  whom  Ignatius  had  a  special  venera- 
tion, and  in  whose  praise  he  had  formerly  indited 
certain  Spanish  verses.  This  early  piety,  says  Maf- 
fei,  produced  no  small  fruit,  for  before  the  critical 
time  of  the  night  arrived,  the  apostle  appeared  to 
him  in  a  vision,  bringing  '  healing  on  his  wings.' 
p  2 


316  NOTES. 

"  Another  of  his  biographers  conjectures  that  the 
prince  of  the  apostles  effected  his  restoration  to 
health,  because  he  had  a  special  interest  in  the  cure 
of  a  man  destined  by  heaven  to  maintain  the  autho- 
rity of  the  Holy  See  against  heresy.  However  this 
may  be,  Ignatius  assuredly  recovered,  although  a 
slight  deformity  remained  on  his  leg,  caused  by  the 
protrusion  of  a  bone  under  the  knee.  Grievously 
afflicted  that  the  symmetry  of  his  person  should  be 
thus  spoiled,  he  determined  to  have  the  obnoxious 
bone  cut  off,  and  the  operation  was  performed  almost 
without  producing  a  change  of  countenance  in  the 
hardy  soldier.  Notwithstanding  all  his  care,  how- 
ever, his  right  leg  always  remained  somewhat 
shorter  that  the  left.  Kestrained  from  walking,  and 
confined  to  his  bed,  he  requested,  in  order  to  amuse 
himself,  to  be  furnished  with  some  books  of  chival- 
ry, the  sort  of  reading  which  chiefly  occupied  the 
attention  of  people  of  quality  at  that  time  ;  but  in- 
stead of  Palmerin  of  England,  or  Amadis  of  Gaul, 
they  brought  him  The  Lives  of  the  Saints.  At  first 
he  read  them  without  any  other  view  than  that  of 
beguiling  the  time ;  but  by  degrees  he  began  to  re- 
lish them,  and  at  length  became  so  absorbed  in  the 
study  of  asceticism,  that  he  passed  whole  days  in 
studying  The  Lives  of  the  Saints,  and  finally  made  a 


NOTES.  317 

resolution  to  imitate  men  who  had  so  distinguished 
themselves  by  warring  against  their  own  flesh  and 
blood.  These  aspirations  were  succeeded  by  his 
former  desire  for  military  glory  ;  but  after  various 
mental  conflicts,  and  a  great  deal  of  reflection,  the 
charms  of  penance  at  length  completely  triumphed. 
"  For  the  purpose  of  gratifying  this  passion,  he  de- 
termined to  go  barefoot  to  the  Holy  Land,  to  clothe 
himself  in  sackcloth,  to  live  upon  bread  and  water, 
to  sleep  on  the  bare  ground,  and  to  choose  a  desert 
for  his  abode ;  but  in  the  mean  time,  as  his  leg  was 
not  sufficiently  well  to  allow  him  to  carry  his  wishes 
into  effect,  in  order  in  a  slight  degree  to  satisfy  the 
longings  of  his  soul,  he  spent  part  of  the  night  in  • 
weeping  for  his  sins  ;  and  one  night,  prostrating 
himself  before  an  image  of  the  blessed  Virgin,  he 
consecrated  himself  to  the  service  of  her  and  her 
Son.  Immediately  he  heard  a  terrible  noise.  The 
house  shook,  the  windows  were  broken,  and  a  rent 
made  in  the  wall,  which  was  long  after,  and  probably 
may  at  this  day  be  seen.  These  extraordinary  signs 
are  not  noticed  by  Maffei ;  but  his  less  cautious 
brother,  Eibadeneira,  relates  the  fact,  although  he  is 
in  some  doubt  whether  it  was  a  sign  of  the  approba- 
tion of  the  Deity,  or  of  the  rage  of  the  devils,  at  see- 
ing their  prey  ravished  from  them. 
p  3 


318  NOTES. 

"Another  night  the  Virgin  appeared  to  him,  hold- 
ing her  Son  in  her  arms ;  a  sight  which  so  reple- 
nished him  with  spiritual  unction,  that  from  that 
time  forward  his  soul  became  purified,  and  all  images 
of  sensual  delight  were  for  ever  razed  from  his  mind. 
He  felt  himself  re-created,  and  spent  all  his  time  in 
reading,  writing,  and  meditating  on  performing 
something  extraordinary.  At  length  he  sallied 
forth  from  Loyola,  where  he  had  been  conveyed  after 
the  siege  of  Pampeluna,  and  took  the  road  to  Mont- 
serrat,  a  monastery  of  Benedictines,  at  that  time  fa- 
mous for  the  devotions  of  pilgrims,  making  by  the 
way  a  vow  of  perpetual  chastity,  one  of  the  instru- 
ments with  which  he  proposed  to  arm  himself  in  his 
contemplated  combats.  He  had  not  ridden  far  be- 
fore he  fell  in  with  a  Moor,  with  whom  he  entered 
into  conversation,  and  amongst  other  topics  engaged 
in  an  argument  about  the  immaculate  purity  of  the 
blessed  Virgin.  The  Moor  agreed,  that  until  the 
birth  of  Christ,  Mary  preserved  her  virginity;  but  he 
maintained,  that  when  she  became  a  mother  she 
ceased  to  be  a  virgin.  The  knight  heard  this  trea- 
son against  his  lady  with  the  greatest  horror  j  and 
the  Moor,  perceiving  the  discussion  was  tending  to 
a  disagreeable  point,  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  made 
off.  The  champion  of  the  honour  of  the  blessed 


NOTES.  319 

Virgiil  was  for  a  while  in  doubt  whether  it  was  re- 
quired of  him  to  revenge  the  blasphemies  of  the 
Moor.  He,  however,  followed  him,  until  he  arrived 
at  a  place  where  the  road  parted,  one  branch  of  it 
leading  to  Montserrat,  and  the  other  to  a  village  whi- 
ther the  Moor  was  going  ;  and  being  mindful  of  the 
expedient  which  errant  knights  of  old  frequently 
adopted  to  solve  a  doubt,  he  very  wisely  determined 
to  be  guided  by  his  horse,  and  if  the  animal  took  the 
same  road  as  the  Moor,  to  take  vengeance  on  him  ; 
if  not,  then  to  pursue  his  way  in  peace  to  Montser- 
rat. The  horse  being  of  a  peaceable  disposition, 
took  the  road  to  Moutserrat ;  and  having  arrived  at 
a  village,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  on  which  the 
monastery  stands,  his  rider  purchased  the  equipage 
of  a  pilgrim,  and  proceeding  to  the  monastery,  sought 
out  an  able  spiritual  director,  and  confessed  his  sins 
which  he  did  in  so  full  and  ample  a  manner,  and  in- 
terrupted it  with  such  torrents  of  tears,  that  his  con- 
fession lasted  three  days.  The  next  step  which  Ig- 
natius took  was  to  seek  out  a  poor  man,  to  whom, 
stripping  himself  to  his  shirt,  he  privately  gave  all 
his  clothes ;  then,  putting  on  his  pilgrim's  weeds,  he 
returned  to  the  church  of  the  monastery l.  Here, 

1  Let  the  reader  here  turn  to  the  "  Life  of  Alexius;"  and 
particularly  to  pages  66,  67,  of  this  volume. 

P  4 


320  NOTES. 

remembering  that  it  was  customary  for  persons  to 
watch  a  whole  night  in  their  arms,  previously  to 
their  being  knighted,  he  determined  in  like  manner 
to  keep  his  vigil  before  the  altar  of  his  Lady  ;  and 
suspending  his  sword  upon  a  pillar,  in  token  of  his 
renouncing  secular  warfare,  he  continued  in  prayer 
the  whole  night,  devoting  himself  to  the  Saviour  and 
the  blessed  Virgin,  as  their  true  knight,  according 
to  the  practice  of  chivalry. 

"  Early  in  the  morning  he  departed  from  Montser- 
rat,  leaving  his  horse  to  the  monastery,  and  receiv- 
ing in  exchange  certain  penitential  instruments  from 
his  ghostly  father.  With  his  staff  in  his  hand,  his 
scrip  by  his  side,  bare-headed,  one  foot  unshod,  (the 
other  being  still  weak  from  his  wound)  he  walked 
briskly  to  Manreza,  a  small  town  about  three  leagues 
from  Montserrat.  Resolved  to  make  Manreza  illus- 
trious by  his  exemplary  penance,  he  took  up  his 
abode  at  the  hospital  for  pilgrims  and  sick  persons ; 
he  girded  his  loins  with  an  iron  chain,  put  on  a  hair 
shirt,  disciplined  himself  three  times  a  day,  laid  upon 
the  bare  ground,  and  lived  upon  bread  and  water 
for  a  week.  Not  content  with  these  mortifications, 
he  sometimes  added  to  his  hair  shirt  a  girdle  of  cer- 
tain herbs  full  of  thorns  and  prickles.  He  spent 
seven  hours  every  day  in  prayer,  and  frequently 


NOTES.  321 

continued  a  length  of  time  without  motion.  Consi- 
dering, however,  that  this  maceration  of  his  body 
would  advance  him  but  a  little  way  to  heaven,  he 
next  resolved  to  stifle  in  himself  all  emotions  of  pride 
and  self-love,  and  for  this  end,  he  studiously  ren- 
dered himself  disgusting,  neglecting  his  person,  and 
to  hide  his  quality,  assuming  a  clownish  carriage. 
"With  his  face  covered  with  dirt,  his  hair  matted,  and 
his  beard  and  nails  of  a  fearful  length,  but  his  spul 
filled  with  inward  satisfaction,  he  begged  his  bread 
from  door  to  door,  a  spectacle  of  scorn  and  ridicule 
to  all  the  inhabitants  and  children  of  Manreza1. 
He  persevered  in  this  course,  notwithstanding  the 
suggestions  of  the  wily  enemy  of  mankind,  who 
wished  to  tempt  him  to  the  world  again,  until  a  re- 
port was  circulated  that  he  was  a  person  of  quality, 
and  the  feelings  of  the  people  were  converted  from 
scorn  and  ridicule  to  admiration  and  reverence 
whereupon  he  retreated  to  a  cave  in  the  neighbour- 
hood 2.  The  gloom  of  his  new  abode  excited  in  him 
a  lively,  vigorous  spirit  of  penance,  in  which  he  re- 
velled with  the  utmost  fervour,  and  without  the  least 
restraint.  He  chastised  his  body  four  or  five  times 

1  Compare  with  this  account  what  is  said  of  Alexius  in 
page  67,  et  seq. 

2  Vide  page  69. 

p  5 


322  NOTES. 

a  day  with  his  iron  chain,  abstained  from  food  until 
exhausted  nature  compelled  him  to  refresh  himself 
with  a  few  roots,  and  instead  of  praying  seven  hours 
a  day,  he  did  nothing  but  pray  from  morning  until 
night,  and  again,  from  night  until  morning,  lament- 
ing his  transgressions,  and  praising  the  mercies  of 
God.      These  excessive  indulgencies  mightily  im- 
paired his  health,  and  brought  on  a  disease  of  the 
stomach,  which  at  intervals  afflicted  him,  until  the 
time  of  his  death :  the  spiritual  joys  which  they  had 
formerly  brought,  suddenly  disappeared,  he  became 
melancholy,  had  thoughts  of  destroying  himself,  and  i 
then  recollecting  to  have  read  of  a  hermit  who,  hav- 
ing fruitlessly  petitioned  for  a  favour  from  God,  de- 
termined to  eat  nothing  until  his  prayers  were  heard, 
he  also  resolved  to  do  the  same  ;  he  persevered  for 
a  week,  and  then  at  the  command  of  his  spiritual 
director  left  off  fasting.     His  troubles  ceased,  and 
he  now  began  to  wax  into  a  saint.    He  had  a  vision 
of  the  mystery  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  of  which  he- 
spoke,  although  he  could  only  just  read  and  write, 
with  so  much  light,  and  with  such  sublime  expres- 
sions, that  the  most  ignorant  were  instructed,  and- 
the  most  learned  delighted.     Nay,  he  wrote  down 
his  conceptions  of  this  mystery,  but  we  lament  tc 
•say^that  his  manuscript  was  unfortunately  lost.    Hit 

6 


NOTES.  323 

visions  began  to  multiply,  the  most  remarkable  of 
which  was  an  extacy,  which  lasted  eight  days,  nei- 
ther more  nor  less.  These  illuminations  were  so 
convincing,  that  he  was  heard  to  say,  that  had  the 
revelations  never  been  recorded  in  Scripture,  he 
would  still  have  maintained  them  to  the  last  drop 
of  his  blood.  The  heavenly  favours  he  thus  re- 
ceived he  opened  in  part  to  his  ghostly  directors, 
but  with  this  exception,  he  shut  them  up  in  his  own 
heart.  His  efforts  to  conceal  himself  from  the  eyes 
of  men  were  vain,  his  austerities  and  extacies, 
aided  by  the  belief  of  his  being  a  man  of  quality 
in  disguise,  attracted  crowds  of  people  to  see  and 

hear  him,  and  he  was  pronounced — A  SAINT. 

****** 

"  Notwithstanding  that  the  necessary  consequence 
of  actions  like  these  was  to  attract  the  attention  of 
the  world,  he  is  described  as  being  desirous  of  with- 
drawing himself  from  the  notice  and  esteem  of  men, 
and  he  resolved  to  carry  into  execution  a  design, 
which  he  had  long  nourished,  of  visiting  the  Holy 
Land.  He  accordingly  proceeded  to  Barcelona, 
where  he  embarked  on  board  a  ship  about  to  sail 
for  Italy,  landed  at  Grayeta  in  1523,  and  proceeded 
on  foot  to  Rome,  where  he  received  the  Pope's  be- 
nediction, and  obtained  permission  to  make  a  pil- 

p  6 


324  NOTES. 

grimage  to  Jerusalem.  From  Eome  he  went  to 
Venice,  where  he  embarked,  and  arrived  at  Jerusa- 
lem, on  the  4th  of  September  in  that  year. 

"  Here  his  heart  was  touched  with  the  most  ten- 
der devotion,  and  he  began  to  deliberate  whether 
he  should  fix  his  residence  on  the  illustrious  soil  of 
Judaea,  and  apply  himself  to  the  conversion  of  the 
infidels.  For  his  greater  satisfaction,  he  consulted 
the  superior  of  the  Franciscans,  who  had  the  care 
of  the  Holy  Sepulchre ;  the  superior  remitted  him 
to  the  Father  Provincial,  who  counselled  him 
to  return  to  Europe,  but  Ignatius,  having  some 
scruples  about  abandoning  his  design,  answered 
the  Provincial,  that  nothing  but  the  fear  of  dis- 
pleasing God  should  make  him  leave  the  Holy 
Land.  "  Why  then,"  said  the  Provincial,  "  you 
shall  be  gone  to-morrow ;  I  have  power  from  the 
holy  see  to  send  back  what  pilgrims  I  please,  and 
you  cannot  resist  me  without  offending  God."  Ig- 
natius submitted  without  another  word,  left  Jeru- 
salem on  the  following  day,  and  arrived  at  Venice 
about  the  end  of  January,  1524.  A  Spanish  mer- 
chant at  this  place  forced  him  to  take  fifteen  or  six- 
teen reals,  but  on  his  coming  to  Eerrara  he  gave  a 
real  to  the  first  beggar  that  held  out  his  hand,  a 
second  came,  and  he  gave  him  another.  These 


NOTES.  325 

liberalities  drew  all  the  beggars  to  him,  and  he  re- 
fused none  so  long  as  his  money  lasted,  and  when  he 
had  done,  he  began  to  beg  himself,  whereupon  they 
cried  out,  A  saint,  a  saint l  /  He  needed  no  more 
to  make  him  leave  the  place;  he  continued  his 
journey  through  Lombardy  to  Genoa,  where  he 
embarked  for  Barcelona.  During  his  voyage  from 
the  Holy  Land,  he  had  reflected  a  good  deal  on 
the  subject  of  converting  the  infidels,  and  consider- 
ing that  without  the  aid  of  human  learning  his 
efforts  would  be  comparatively  inefficacious,  he  de- 
termined to  put.himself  under  the  care  of  Ardebalo, 
the  master  of  the  grammar  school  at  Barcelona. 
He  was  now  thirty-three  years  of  age.  On  his 
arrival  at  Barcelona,  he  fell  to  the  study  of  the  ru- 
diments of  the  Latin  language,  and  went  every  day 
to  school  with  the  little  children ;  but  whilst  his 
master  was  explaining  the  rules  of  grammar,  he 
was  deeply  engaged  with  the  mysteries  of  faith. 
This  distraction  of  attention  he  ascribed  to  the 
powers  of  darkness,  and  made  a  vow  to  continue 
his  studies  with  greater  application,  nay,  he  re- 
quested of  Ardebalo  to  require  the  same  task  from 
him  as  the  rest  of  the  boys,  and  if  he  did  not  per- 
form it,  to  punish  him  as  he  punished  them,  by  re- 

1  See  page  67. 


326  NOTES. 

primands  and  stripes.  We  do  not  learn  whether 
the  master  was  necessitated  to  quicken  his  scholar's 
diligence  in  the  way  suggested,  but  it  is  certain 
that  he  now  proceeded  in  his  studies  with  much 
greater  facility.  About  this  time,  he  read  the  En- 
chiridion Militis  Christiani  of  Erasmus,  which  had 
been  recommended  to  him,  but  finding  that  it 
wanted  fervour,  and  in  fact,  diminished  his  devotion 
and  exercises  of  piety,  (and  was  probably  reducing 
him  to  a  reasonable  Christian)  he  threw  away  the 
book,  and  conceived  such  a  horror  of  it,  that  he 
would  never  read  it  more,  and  when  he  became 
General  of  the  Jesuits,  ordered  that  the  society 
should  not  read  the  works  of  Erasmus.  Being  re- 
established in  his  health,  he  renewed  his  austerities, 
but,  for  the  sake  of  study,  retrenched  a  part  of  his 
seven  hours  of  prayer.  John  Pascal,  a  devout 
youth,  the  son  of  the  woman  with  whom  he  lodged, 
would  frequently  rise  in  the  night  to  observe  what 
Ignatius  was  doing  in  his  chamber,  and  sometimes 
he  saw  him  on  his  knees,  at  others,  prostrate  on  the 
ground,  and  once  he  thought  he  saw  him  elevated 
from  the  earth,  and  surrounded  with  light,  or  as 
Butler  expresses  it  in  his  Hudibras, 

"  Hang  like  Mahomet  in  th'  air, 
Or  Saint  Ignatius  at  his  prayer." 


NOTES.  327 

"  But  whilst  Ignatius  was  labouring  after  his  own 
perfection,  he  did  not  neglect  that  of  his  neighbour? 
employing  those  hours  which  were  not  devoted  to 
study,  in  withdrawing  souls  from  vice,  by  striking 
examples  and  edifying  discourses.  Eemarkable 
instances  of  his  success  are  related,  and  on  one 
occasion  his  interference  cost  him,  to  his  inward  de- 
light, a  sound  external  bastinado,  which  occasioned 
fifty  days  of  sickness  and  pain.  Having  continued 
nearly  two  years  at  Barcelona,  he  was  advised  to 
pursue  a  course  of  philosophy  at  the  University  of 
Alcala,  to  which  place  he  went  accompanied  by 
three  young  men,  whom  he  had  brought  into  the 
way  of  virtue,  and  who  had  desired  to  accompany 
him  :  to  them  he  added  a  fourth  on  his  arrival  at 
Alcala.  He  had  no  sooner  arrived  than  he  began 
to  study  with  such  extreme  eagerness,  applying 
himself  to  so  many  sciences  at  once,  that  his  under- 
standing became  confused,  and  his  labour  produced 
no  fruits.  Disheartened  with  his  little  progress,  he 
employed  his  time  in  prayer,  in  catechising  children, 
and  attending  the  sick  in  the  hospital.  The  mar- 
vellous changes  effected  by  Ignatius  in  Alcala 
through  his  preaching  and  remonstrances,  at  length 
gave  rise  to  a  rumour  that  he  was  either  a  magician 
or  a  heretic,  which  coming  to  the  ears  of  the  inqui 


328  NOTES. 

sitors  at  Toledo,  they  were  induced  to  believe  that 
he  was  an  Illuminate  or  Lutheran,  and  in  order  to 
investigate  the  matter,  they  came  to  Alcala  to  take 
his  examination  upon  the  spot.  After  an  exact  in 
quiry,  Ignatius  was  pronounced  innocent,  but  was 
admonished  by  the  Grand  Vicar,  that  he  and  his 
companions,  not  belonging  to  any  religious  order, 
mast  not  dress  in  uniform  habits,  and  he  forbid 
him  to  go  bare-foot,  with  both  which  commands  he 
complied,  and  ever  after  wore  shoes. 

*        *        *         *         *         * 

"  About  this  time,  Ignatius  being  afflicted  with 
indisposition,  partly  from  his  austerities,  and  partly 
from  the  climate  of  Paris,  was  advised  by  his  phy- 
sicians to  try  the  benefit  of  his  native  air ;  an  ad- 
vice which  he  the  more  readily  adopted,  partly 
because  three  of  his  companions  had  some  business 
to  transact  in  Spain  before  they  could  absolutely 
renounce  all  their  worldly  goods ;  and  partly  that 
he  might  repair  the  scandal  of  his  youth  by  his  pre- 
sent virtuous  demeanour.  Having  committed  the 
care  of  the  society  to  Paber,  he  departed  for  his 
native  country ;  making  use,  however,  of  a  horse, 
on  account  of  the  weakness  of  his  foot.  He  went 
to  Azpetia,  a  town  near  the  castle  of  Loyola,  where 
the  clergy,  hearing  of  his  approach,  assembled  to 


NOTES.  329 

receive  him.  He  refused,  however,  to  take  up  his 
abode  with  his  brother  at  the  castle  of  Loyola  j  and 
instead  of  making  use  of  the  bed  and  provisions 
which  he  sent  to  him  at  the  hospital,  he  chose  to  lie 
on  the  bed  of  a  poor  man,  taking  care,  however, 
every  morning  to  disarrange  the  other,  as  if  he  had 
slept  in  it ;  and  distributed  the  provisions  he  re- 
ceived from  Loyola  amongst  the  poor,  and  begged 
his  bread  about  the  town.  Once  only  he  went, 
*  upon  compulsion,'  to  visit  the  inmates  of  Loyola, 
the  sight  of  which  renewed  the  memory  of  his  for- 
mer life,  and  inspired  him  with  an  ardent  love  of 
mortification.  In  consequence,  he  forthwith  put  on 
a  sharp  hair  shirt,  girded  himself  with  a  great  chain 
of  iron,  and  disciplined  himself  every  night.  He 
catechised  the  children,  he  preached  every  Sunday, 
and  two  or  three  times  in  the  week  besides ;  until, 
the  churches  not  being  able  to  contain  the  great 
crowds  who  came  to  hear  him,  he  was  obliged  to 
hold  forth  in  the  open  fields,  '  et  auditores  arbores 
complere  cogerentur.'  The  first  time  he  preached, 
he  told  the  assembly  that  he  had  been,  for  a  long 
time,  grievously  afflicted  by  a  sin  of  his  youth : — 
he  had,  he  said,  with  other  boys,  broken  into  a 
garden,  and  carried  off  a  quantity  of  fruit ;  an 
offence  for  which  an  innocent  person  was  sent  to 


330  NOTES. 

prison,  and  condemned  to  pay  damages.  "  I,  there- 
fore," he  proceeded,  "  am  the  offender  ;  he  is  the 
innocent  person:  I  have  sinned — I  have  erred!" 
and  he  called  before  him  the  man,  who  by  chance 
was  present,  and  gave  him,  before  the  public,  two 
farms,  which  belonged  to  him.  "We  shall  pass  over 
the  particular  circumstances  of  success  which  at- 
tended his  preaching :  it  will  be  sufficient  to  apprize 
our  readers,  that  as  soon  as  he  preached  against  the 
immodest  attire  of  the  women,  it  disappeared ;  that 
the  same  day  he  denounced  gaming,  the  gamesters 
threw  their  dice  into  the  river  ;  that  the  courtezans 
made  holy  pilgrimages  on  foot,  and  the  blasphemers 
ceased  to  curse. 

"Although  this  sketch  of  the  life  of  Ignatius 
Loyola  bears  no  proportion  to  the  details  which 
have  been  given  of  it  by  about  twenty  biographers, 
it  is,  we  conceive,  sufficiently  ample  to  enable  the 
reader  to  form  a  correct  judgment  of  his  character. 
It  has  been  thought  that  the  society  of  Jesuits  owed 
its  origin  to  the  enthusiasm,  rather  than  the  policy, 
of  its  founder1.  Let  the  reader  trace  him  from 
his  conversion  to  his  death,  follow  him  through  his 
rigorous  infliction  of  self-punishment,  his  fastings 

1  Robertson's  Charles  V.,  v.  iii.  b.  6.     Bayle,  Art.  LOYOLA. 


NOTES.  331 

until  exhausted  nature  was  ready  to  sink  under  his 
severe  austerities,  his  voluntary  beggary,  his  grow- 
ing reputation  for  sanctity,  his  flight  from  public 
notice  and  reverence  whilst  he  pursued  the  very 
means  to  obtain  them,  his  being  stamped  a  saint, 
his  application  to  human  learning,  the  unfolding  of 
his  views,  the  alteration  in  his  austerities,  in  his 
habits  of  life  and  mode  of  dress,  and  he  will  pro- 
bably be  of  a  different  opinion.  Enthusiasm  was 
doubtless  the  inspiring  fountain  at  which  he  first 
drank  ;  not  so  much,  however,  the  enthusiasm  of 
an  ardent  and  noble  mind,  as  a  preternatural  excite- 
ment caused  by  the  sort  of  reading  to  which  acci- 
dent invited  him,  working  on  a  debilitated  and 
feverish  frame.  His  enthusiasm,  after  the  first 
ebullition,  seems  to  have  had  a  method  in  it ;  it 
led  him  to  just  so  must  voluntary  suffering  as  was 
necessary  to  gain  him  the  reputation  of  a  saint,  and 
it  was  probably  at  that  species  of  fame  that  he  at 
first  aimed :  his  affected  humility  was  ostentation ; 
his  pretended  seclusion,  notoriety  ;  he  did  not  con- 
ceal from  his  left  hand  what  his  right  hand  did,  he 
distributed  the  alms  he  had  acquired  to  beggars, 
and  as  soon  as  he  had  done  began  to  beg  himself, 
to  the  admiration  of  the  professors  of  mendicity ; 
and  it  was  no  wonder  they  should  cry  out,  A  SAINT, 


332  NOTES. 

A  SAINT  !  He  did  not  retire  into  trackless  deserts 
like  the  'eremites'  of  ol-d,  but  like  a  retiring  beauty, 
suffered  his  flight  from  the  world  to  be  seen,  and 
was  shocked  when  he  was  followed.  Whilst  render- 
ing himself  an  object  of  loathing  and  disgust,  and 
attenuating  his^body  to  the  proper  point  of  sanctity, 
it  was  swelling  with  holy  pride  and  inward  gratula- 
tion ;  but  as  soon  as  this  part  of  his  object  was 
once  accomplished,  he  threw  off  his  tattered  robes4 
and  iron  chain,  he  diminished  his  hours  of  prayer, 
and  grander  prospects  and  mightier  power  began  to 
open  before  him.  Not  that  he  would  have  hesitated 
to  continue  them  for  the  purpose  of  preserving  his 
reputation  or  securing  an  important  object ;  but 
what  is  to  be  remarked,  is,  that  those  things  which 
he  had  formerly  considered  indispensable,  were  now 
no  longer  thought  so,  and  that  without  any  change 
of  the  circumstances  which  originally  made  them 
necessary,  and  it  is  not  sufficient  to  resort  to  visions 
to  account  for  the  change.  Tor,  although  an  enthu- 
siastic imagination  might  see  such  things  'in  dim 
perspective,'  the  whole  of  the  conduct  of  Ignatius 
marks  him  to  be  a  cool  persevering  and  calculating 
politician1,  and  the  visions  themselves  ceased,  when 

1  Thou  gh  his  biographers  considered  him  of  an  ardent  tempera- 
ment, his  physicians  thought  him  of  a  phlegmatic  constitution. 


NOTES.  333 

no  longer  required  to  spread  his  nanie  and  consoli- 
date his  power.  Though  influenced  by  motives  of 
ambition,  they  were  not  those  of  wealth  or  rank, 
but  of  real,  substantial  power  ;  and,  although  some 
obscure  thoughts  of  framing  a  religious  Order  might 
have  obtruded  upon  his  meditations  at  Manreza,  it 
is  probable  that  the  precise  nature  of  it  was  only 
gradually  unfolded,  and  not  completed  until  he  was 
about  to  leave  Paris*." 


The  latter  part  of  the  life  of  Ignatius  Loyola,  bears 
no  proportion  to  its  outset.  Enthusiasm  had  abated, 
and  policy  was  the  cynosure  of  his  subsequent  ca- 
reer. In  this  he  differs  from  Alexius ;  as  he  be- 
came more  active,  he  became  less  a  SAINT;  and  as 
his  mind  opened,  and  reason  assumed  her  proper 
station,  he  gradually  lost  the  fanatic  in  the  designing 
founder  of  a  sect.  "What  he  retained  of  fanaticism 
was  chiefly  external,  and  artificial ;  but  the  leading 
features  of  his  life,  accord  surprizingly  with  the  le- 
gendary  character  of  the  text.  Had  Loyola  re- 
mained always  ignorant,  he  had  been  always  a  bigot ; 
and,  judging  by  the  commencement  of  his  life, 

*  RETROSPECTIVE  REVIEW,   No.   XVII. 


334  NOTES. 

would  have  died  as  useless  and  as  burdensome  to 
society  as  the  son  of  the  senator  Eufemian. 

NOTE  13.     Page  80. 

"  What  I  expended,  I  have  ;  what  I  gave  away,  1 
have:' 

From  hence,  in  all  probability,  Robert  Byrkes 
derived  the  quaint  epitaph,  which  is  to  be  found,  ac- 
cording to  G-ough,  in  Doncaster  church,  "  new  cut" 
upon  his  tomb  in  Roman  capitals. 

"  Howe  :  Howe :  who  is  heare  : 

I,  Robin  of  Doncaster,  and  Margeret  my  feare  l 

That  I  spent,  that  I  had: 

That  I  gave,  that  I  have  : 

That  I  left,  that  I  lost. 

A.D.  1579. 

Quod  Robertus  Byrkes, 
who  in  this  worlde 

did  reygne  thre 

score  yeares  and  seaven, 

and  yet  Jived  not  one." 

NOTE  14.     Page  81. 

The  story  seems  here 'to  be  defective;  "what  I 
expended,  I  have :  what  I  gave  away,  I  have,"  re- 

1  Wife — properly  companion,  comrade. 


NOTES.  335 

ceives  no  explanation.  It  may  be  filled  up  thus : 
"What  I  expended,  I  have,"  that  is,  having  ex- 
pended my  property  with  judgment,  I  have  received 
various  benefits  which  remain  to  me  in  my  posterity. 
"  What  I  gave  away,  I  have,"  that  is,  my  donations 
have  procured  for  me  the  thanks  of  the  poor,  and  the 
blessing  of  heaven. 

NOTE  15.     Page  86. 
"  Must  and  vinegar" 

Must,  is  new  wine.  "  Vinum  igitur  mustum,  quo- 
modo  Cato  loquitur,  idem  est,  quod  novum,  sive 
oivog  fAOffy^idios.  Nonius  :  Mustum,  non  solum  vinum, 
verum  novellum  quicquid  est,  recte  dicitur." 

Vinegar,  Lat.  acetum.  "  Optimum,  et  laudatis- 
simum  acetum  a  Homanis  habebatur  ^Egyptum, 
quod  acrimoniam  quidem  habebat  multam,  sed  mix- 
tarn  tamen  dulcedinealiqua,quaeasperitatem  tollerit, 
nee  horrorem  gustandi  injiceret."  Faceiol.  The  vi- 
negar spoken  of  in  the  text,  was  probably  sweet- 
ened. 


NOTE  16.     Page  90. 
There  are  several  popular  stories  not  unlike  the 


336  NOTES. 

present ;  but  they  will  probably  occur  to  the  me- 
mory of  most  readers. 

NOTE  17.    Page  92. 

There  is  a  curious  defence  of  transubstantiation 
in  this  moral ;  and  we  may  admire  its  ingenuity 
while  we  reprobate  the  absurd  doctrine  it  is  designed 
to  advocate. 

"  You  ask,"  says  the  writer  of  the  G-EST,  "  by 
what  means  bread  may  be  converted  into  the  real 
body  of  Christ.  Observe  how  the  mother  nourishes 
her  child.  If  she  hunger,  and  want  milk,  the  in- 
fant, deprived  of  its  proper  sustenance,  languishes 
and  dies.  But  if,  in  her  greatest  extremity,  she 
drink  but  the  lees  of  wine,  those  lees,  taken  by  the 
mouth,  become  changed  into  blood,  and  supply  milk 
and  nutriment  to  the  child.  If  nature,  then,  exert 
so  much  power  over  the  woman,  how  much  more 
shall  the  virtue  of  the  sacramental  rite,  operating  by 
the  mouth  of  the  priest,  (that  is,  by  the  words  of 
Christ  proceeding  from  his  mouth),  convert  bread 
into  flesh,  and  wine  into  blood." 


NOTES.  337 

NOTE  17*.    Page  93." 
"  The  widow  of  a  Castellan." 

The  Castellan  was  a  military  guardian  of  a  castle ; 
and  of  the  same  dignity  as  the  viscount.  See  Du- 
cange. 

NOTE  18.     Page  96. 

"This  story  is  told  in  Caxton's  GOLDEN  LE- 
GENDE  f,  and  in  the  Metrical  Lives  of  the  Saints. 
Hence  Julian,  or  Saint  Julian,  was  called  hospitator, 
or  the  gode  herberjour ;  and  the  Pater  Noster  be- 
came famous,  which  he  used  to  say  for  the  souls  of 
his  father  and  mother  whom  he  had  thus  unfortu- 
nately killed.  The  peculiar  excellencies  of  this 
prayer  are  displayed  by  Boccace.  Chaucer,  speak- 

*  This  notation  is  an  error  of  the  Press. 

f  "  Fol.  90.  ed.  1493."—  Warton.  There  were  a  great  many 
Saints  of  this  name.  "  Of  this  Saynt  Julyen  some  saye  this  is  he 
that  pylgryms  and  wayfarying  men  call  and  requyre  for  good 
herborowe,  because  our  Lorde  was  lodged  in  his  hous.  But  it 
seemeth  better  that  it  is  he  y'  slewe  his  fader  and  moder  ig- 
norantly,  of  whome  the  hystory  is  hereafter."  CAX.  Golden 
Leg.  fol.  85,  ed.  1527. 

VOL.  I.  Q 


338  NOTES. 

ing  of  the  hospitable  disposition  of  his  Frankelein, 
says — 

"  Saint  Julian  he  was  >in  his  own  countre  '. 

"This  history  is,  like  the  last,  related  by  our 
compilers  in  the  words  of  Julian's  Legend,  as  it 
stands  in  Jacobus  de  Voragine.  JBollandus  has  in- 
serted Antoninus's  account  of  this  saint,  which  ap- 
pears also  to  be  literally  the  same.  It  is  told,  yet 
not  exactly  in  the  same  words,  by  Vincent  of  Beau- 
vais." — WAETON. 

The  passage  in  Boccacio,  above  alluded  to,  is  as 
follows : 

"  Falling  from  one  discourse  to  another,  they 
began  to  talk  of  such  prayers  as  men  (in  journey) 
use  to  salute  Grod  with  all :  and  one  of  the  thieves 
(they  being  three  in  number)  spake  thus  to  BInaldo. 
Sir,  let  it  be  no  offence  that  I  desire  to  know,  what 
prayer  you  most  use  when  you  travel  on  the  way  ? 
Whereto  Binaldo  replied  in  this  manner.  To  tell 
you  true,  sir,  I  am  a  man  gross  enough  in  such 
divine  matters,  as  meddling  more  with  merchandize, 
tLan  I  do  with  books.  Nevertheless,  at  all  times, 
when  I  am  thus  in  journey,  in  the  morning  before  I 
depart  my  chamber,  I  say  a  Pater  Noster  and  an 

1  Prol.  v  342. 


NOTES.  339 

Ave  Maria  for  the  souls  of  the  father  and  mother 
of  ST.  JULIAN  ;  and  after  that,  I  pray  Grod  and 
ST.  Julian  to  send  me  a  good  lodging  at  night. 
And  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  that  very  oftentimes  here- 
tofore, I  have  met  with  many  great  dangers  upon 
the  way,  from  all  which  I  escaped,  and  evermore 
(when  night  drew  on)  I  came  to  an  exceeding  good 
lodging.  Which  makes  me  believe  that  SAINT 
JULIAN  (in  honour  of  whom  I  speak  it)  hath  begged 
of  Grod  such  great  grace  for  me :  and  methinks, 
that  if  any  day  I  should  fail  of  this  prayer  in  the 
morning,  I  cannot  travel  securely,  nor  come  to  a 
good  lodging.  No  doubt  then,  sir,  (quoth  the 
other)  but  you  have  said  that  prayer  this  morning  ? 
I  would  be  sorry  else  ;  said  Einaldo,  such  an  espe- 
cial matter  is  not  to  be  neglected."  First  Day, 
Novel  II.  168*. 


NOTE  19.     Page  99. 

This  story  is  evidently  built  upon  a  confused  tra- 
dition of  Caesar  and  Pompey.  "  It  was  impossible," 
says  Warton,  "  that  the  Roman  History  could  pass 
through  the  dark  ages  without  being  infected  with 
many  romantic  corruptions.  Indeed,  the  Roman 
was  almost  the  only  ancient  history  which  the 
Q2 


340  NOTES. 

readers  of  those  ages  knew  :  and  what  related  even 
to  pagan  Eome,  the  parent  of  the  more  modern 
papal  metropolis  of  Christianity  was  regarded  with 
a  superstitious  veneration,  and  often  magnified  with 
miraculous  additions."  Diss.  on  the  Gest.  Rom. 


NOTE  20.     Page  104. 

"  This  story  is  told  by  Caxton  in  the  G-OLDEN 
LEGEND E,  under  the  life  of  Pelagian  the  Pope,  en- 
titled, Here  foloweth  the  lyf  of  Saynt  Pelagyen  the 
pope,  with  many  other  hystoryes  and  gestys  of  the 
Lomlardes,  and  of  Machomete,  with  other  crony cles. 
The  Q-ESTA  LoNGOBABDORUMarefertileinlegendary 
matter,  and  furnished  Jacobus  de  Voragine,  Caxton's 
original,  with  many  marvellous  histories.  Caxton, 
from  the  gestis  of  the  Lombardis,  gives  a  wonderful 
account  of  a  pestilence  in  Italy,  under  the  reign  of 
king  Gilbert." — WABTON.  The  G-olden  Legende 
enters  somewhat  into  the  life  of  the  emperor  Henry 
after  he  came  to  the  throne.  Amongst  other  mat- 
ters, he  "  put  out  of  his  countree  all  the  juglers  and 
gave  to  poor  people  all  yl  was  wont  to  be  giuen  to 
mynstrelles." — Fol.  ccclxii.  Whence  it  would  ap- 
pear that  jugglers  and  minstrels  were  the  same. 


NOTES.  341 

NOTE  21.     Page  105. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  investigate  how  much  of 
this  story  is  recorded  by  Justin, 


NOTE  22.      Page  110. 
"  Covered  it  with  theriaque." 

Theriaque  is  an  antidote.  "  Tyriacum  antidotum, 
pro  theriacum,  quod  vulgo  theriaque  dicimus." — Du- 
CANQE.  "  Certaine  trochisks  1  there  be  made  of  a 
viper,  called  by  the  Greeks  theriaci :  for  which  pur- 
pose they  cut  away  at  both  ends  as  toward  the  head 
as  the  taile,  the  breadth  of  foure  fingers,  they  rip 
her  bellie  also,  and  take  out  the  garbage  within : 
but  especially  they  rid  away  the  blue  string  or  veine 
that  sticketh  close  to  the  ridge-bone.  "Which  done, 
the  rest  of  the  bodie  they  seeth  in  a  pan  with  water 
and  dill  seed,  until  such  time  as  all  the  flesh  is  gone 
from  the  chine  :  which  being  taken  away,  and  all  the 
prickie  bones  thereto  belonging,  the  flesh  remaining 
they  incorporate  with  fine  flower,  and  reduce  into 
troches,  which  being  dried  in  the  shade,  are  re- 

1  A  trochisk  [Latin  Trociscus]  is  a  kind  of  medicinal  pill  or 
pastille. 


342  NOTES. 

served  for  diverse  uses,  and  enter  into  many  sove- 
raigne  antidots  and  confections.  But  here  it  is  to 
bee  noted,  that  although  these  troches  bee  called 
theriaci 1,  yet  are  they  made  of  viper's  flesh  onely 
Some  there  be,  who  after  a  viper  is  cleansed,  as  is 
above  said  take  out  the  fat,  and  seeth  it  with  a  sex- 
tar  of  oile  untill  the  one  halfe  bee  consumed :  which 
serveth  to  drive  away  all  venomous  beasts,  if  three 
drops  of  this  ointment  be  put  into  oile,  and  there- 
with the  bodie  be  anointed  all  over." — Pliny's  Nat. 
Hist.  b.  29.  c.  iv.  trans,  by  Philemon  Holland.  Ed. 
1601. 

NOTE  23.     Page  112. 

This  figment  is  clearly  eastern.  There  is  a  simi- 
lar story  in  the  veritable  "  Voyages  and  Travels  of 
Sir  John  Mandevile."  • 

"  There  was  a  man  that  was  called  Catolonapes, 
he  was  ful  rich,  and  had  a  fair  castle  on  a  hill,  and 
strong,  and  he  made  a  wal  all  about  ye  hill  right 
strong  and  fayre,  within  he  had  a  fair  gardeine 
wherein  were  many  trees  bearing  all  maner  of  fruits 
y*  he  might  fynd,  and  he  had  planted  therin  al  maner 
of  herbs  of  good  smel  and  that  bare  flowers,  and 

1  Derived  from  Qrjp  or  Orjpiov,  a  wild  beast. 


NOTES.  343 

ther  wer  many  faire  wels,  and  by  them  were  made 
many  hals  and  chambers  wel  dight  w*  gold  and 
asure,  and  he  had  made  there  dyverse  stories  of 
beastes  and  birds  y*  song  and  turned  by  engin  and 
orbage  as  they  had  been  quick,  and  he  had  in  his 
gardeine  al  thing  that  might  be  to  man  solace  and 
comfort,  he  had  also  in  that  gardeine  may  dens 
within  ye  age  of  xv  yeare,  the  fairest  y*  he  myght 
find,  and  men  children  of  the  same  age,  and  they 
were  clothed  with  cloth  of  gold,  and  he  said  that 
they  were  aungels,  and  he  caused  to  be  made  certain 
hils  and  enclosed  them  about  w'  precious  stones  of 
jasper  and  christal,  and  set  in  gold  and  pearls,  and 
other  maner  of  stones,  and  he  had  made  a  condute l 
under  ye  earth,  so  that  whan  he  wold  ye  wals  ran 
sometime  with  milke,  sometime  with  wine,  some- 
time with  honey,  and  this  place  is  called  Paradise, 
and  when  any  yong  bachelor  of  the  countrey,  knight 
or  sqyer,  cometh  to  him  for  solace  and  disport,  he 
ledeth  them  into  his  paradise,  and  sheweth  them 
these  things  as  the  songs  of  birds,  and  his  damosels, 
and  wels ;  and  he  did  strike  diuerse  instruments  of 
musyke,  in  a  high  tower  that  might  be  heard,  and 
eayd  they  were  aungels  of  god,  and  that  place  was 
paradise,  that  god  hath  graunted  to  those  that  be- 

1  Conduit. 


344  NOTES. 

leued,  when  he  sayd  thus  :  Dabo  vobis  terramfluen- 
tem  lacte  et  melle  ;  that  is  to  say,  I  shall  give  you 
land  flowing  with  mylk  and  hony.  And  than  this 
rych  man  dyd  these  men  drinke  a  maner  of  drinke, 
of  which  they  were  dronken,  and  he  sayd  to  them, 
if  they  wold  dye  for  his  sake,  when  they  were  dead, 
they  shold  come  to  his  paradise,  and  they  should  be 
of  the  age  of  those  may  dens,  and  shold  dwell  alway 
with  them,  and  he  shold  put  them  in  a  fayrer  para- 
dise where  they  should  se  god  in  joy,  and  in  his 
maiesty ;  and  then  they  graunted  to  do  that  he 
wold,  and  he  bade  them  go  and  sleay  such  a  lord, 
or  a  man  of  the  countrey  that  he  was  wroth  with, 
and  that  they  shold  haue  no  dread  of  no  man.  And 
if  they  were  slaine  themselfe  for  his  sake,  he  sholde 
put  them  in  his  paradise  when  they  were  dead.  And 
so  went  these  bachelors  to  sleay  great  lords  of  the 
countrey,  and  were  slain  themselfe  in  hope  to  have 
that  paradise,  and  thus  he  was  avenged  of  his  ene- 
mies thro  his  desert,  and  when  rich  men  of  the 
countrey  perceived  this  cautell  and  malice,  and  the 
will  of  this  Cotolonapes,  they  gathered  them  toge- 
ther and  assayled  the  castel  and  slew  hym  and  de- 
stroyed all  his  goods  and  his  faire  places  and  riches 
that  were  in  his  paradise ;  and  the  place  cf  the  walls 
is  there  yet,  and  some  other  things,  but  the  riches 


NOTES.  345 

are  not,  and  it  is  not  long  ago  since  it  was  de- 
stroyed." CHAP.  xc. 

The  latter  part  of  this  fable  is  the  story  of  the 
Assassins,  whose  Iman  or  leader  was  known  by  the 
appellation  of  the  "  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains." 

From  Mandeville  (or  rather  from  Purchas's  "  Pil- 
grim," where  similar  accounts  are  met  with,)  Mr. 
Southey,  in  his  splendid  poem  of  "  THALABA,"  has 
borrowed  the  idea  of  Aloadin's  enchanted  garden. 
See  Book  VII. 

NOTE  24.     Page  112. 

Gay  appears  to  have  taken  the  idea  of  his  XLII 
fable  from  the  moral  of  this  tale.  "  Talis  ponit 
scutellam,"  says  the  Latin,  "  et  nihil  ponit  intus  : 
interim  fabulatur  et  trufat  et  ludificat  circumstan- 
tes :  postea  quoerit  quid  est  ibi :  et  apparent  denarii. 
Distribuit  et  dat  circumstantibus.  Accipiunt  gia- 
tanter ;  et  cum  clauserint  manus,  credentes  se  habere 
denarium:  postea  aperientes  manus  nihil  in  veniunt." 

[Such  a  one  lays  down  a  dish,  but  he  puts  nothing 
in  it.  In  the  mean  time  he  prates,  cheats,  and  mocks 
the  spectators.  Presently  he  enquires  what  is  there  ? 
and  a  number  of  pennies  appear,  which  he  distri- 
butes to  the  standers-by.  They  receive  them  grate- 


346  NOTES. 

fully ;  close  their  hands,  and  believe  that  they  hold 
them  fast.  By  and  by,  they  open  their  hands  and 
find  nothing.] 

"  Trick  after  trick  deludes  the  train. 
He  shakes  his  bag,  and  shews  all  fair, 
His  fingers  spread,  and  nothing  there, 
Then  bids  it  rain  with  showers  of  gold  ; 

And  now  his  ivory  eggs  are  told. 
****** 

A  purse  she  to  a  thief  exposed  ; 
At  once  his  ready  fingers  closed. 
He  opes  his  fist,  the  treasure's  fled, 
He  sees  a  halter  in  his  stead." 

Gay 's  Fables,  ed.  1727. 

NOTE  25.     Page  119. 
This  is  the  twenty-sixth  chapter  in  Warton's 


NOTE  26.     Page  124. 

The  demon-hunter  in  Boccacio  is  brought  to  mind 
by  this  story.  There  the  lady's  apprehensions 
"  grew  so  powerful  upon  her,  that  to  prevent  the 
like  heavy  doom  from  falling  on  her,  she  studied 
(and  therein  bestowed  all  the  night  season)  how  to 


NOTES.  347 

change  her  hatred  into  kind  love,  which  at  length 
she  fully  ohtained." — Decameron,  5th  Day,  Nov.  8. 
The  catastrophe  in  the  text  I  have  added,  as  afford- 
ing a  better  moral.  The  same  story  occurs  in  the 
12th  chapter  of  Alphonsus  de  Clericali  Disciplina. 
It  appears  in  an  English  garb  amongst  a  collection 
of  ^Esop's  Tables,  published  in  1658.  Mr.  Ellis, 
or  rather  Mr.  Douce  in  his  Analysis  of  Alphonsus 
(see  Ancient  Metrical  Romances)  has  not  noticed 
this  translation. 

NOTE  27.     Page  128. 

"  Licence  was  given,  upon  that  day  of  triumph,  to 
utter  ike  most  galling  reproaches,  and  the  most 
cutting  sarcasms." 

Privileges  of  this  kind  were  permitted  to  the 
Eoman  slaves,  on  the  celebration  of  their  Satur- 
nalia. In  the  seventh  satire  of  the  second  book, 
Horace  gives  us  an  example. 

"  Age,  libertate  Decembri, 
(Quando  ita  majores  voluerunt)  utere  :  narra." 

Davus  spares  not  his  master;  and  in  all  proba- 
bility, many  a  long  treasured  grudge   would,  on 
these  occasions,  be  vented  in  the  bitterest  sarcasms- 
Q6 


348  NOTES. 

NOTE  28.     Page  131. 

Seneca's  observations  are  singular :  c  Illud  aequfe 
inter  annotanda  ponas  licet,  qu6d  et  hominum,  et 
coeterorum  animalium  qusB  icta  sunt,  caput  spectat 
ad  exitum  fulminis  :  qu6d  omnium  percussarum  ar- 
borum  contra  fulmina  hastulae  sergunt.  Quid, 
quod  malorum  serpentium,  et  aliorum  animalium, 
quibus  mortifera  vis  inest,  cum  fulmine  icta  sunt, 
venenum  omne  consumitur  ?  Unde,  inquit,  scis  ? 
In  venenatis  corporibus  vermis  non  nascitur.  Fulmine 
ictdj  intra  paucos  dies  verminant" — Nat.  QuaBst. 
lib.  ii.  31. 


NOTE  29.     Page  133. 

This  curious  anecdote  is  recorded  by  Cicero,  in 
his  second  book,  "  De  Oratore,"  from  whom,  pro- 
bably, Valerius  Maximus  copied  it,  if  it  be  in  his 
work.  I  cannot  find  it. 

"  Salsa  sunt  etiam,  quse  habent  suspicionem  ridi- 
culi  absconditam ;  quo  in  genere  est  illud  Siculi, 
cum  familiaris  quidam  quereretur,  quod  diceret, 
uxorem  suam  suspendisse  se  de  ficu.  Amabo  te  in. 
quit,  da  mihi  ex  istd  arbor e,  quos  seram,  surculos."- 
Lib.  ii.  278. 


NOTES.  349 

NOTE  30.     Page  134. 

"  This,  I  think,  is  from  the  SECEETA  SECEE- 
TOEUM.  Aristotle,  for  two  reasons,  was  a  popular 
character  in  the  dark  ages.  He  was  the  father  of 
their  philosophy;  and  had  been  the  preceptor  of 
Alexander  the  Great,  one  of  the  principal  heroes  of 
romance.  Nor  was  Aristotle  himself  without  his 
romantic  history ;  in  which  he  falls  in  love  with  a 
queen  of  Greece,  who  quickly  confutes  his  subtlest 
syllogisms." — WAETON. 

NOTE  31.     Page  142. 

This  fable  of  the  partridge  is  popular ;  but  it 
seems  more  applicable  to  the  lapwing. 

NOTE  32.     Page  142. 

Here  is  a  remarkable  coincidence  or  plagiarism. 
Pope  has  given  a  complete  and  literal  version  of  the 
passage  in  this  moral. 

"  Ecce  quomodo  mundus  suis  servitoribus  reddit 
mercedem." 

"  See  how  the  world  its  veterans  rewards  /" 

Moral  Essays.     On  the  Character 
of  Women. 


350  NOTES. 

NOTE  33.     Page  142. 
"  Solimu." 

Solinus  wrote  "  De  Mirabilibus  Mundi."  He 
was  a  Latin  grammarian  ;  but  the  period  in  which 
he  nourished  is  doubtful.  Moreri  says,  his  work 
was  entitled  POLYHISTOR,  "  qui  est  un  recueil  dea 
choses  les  plus  memorables  qu'on  voit  en  divers 
pais." 

NOTE  34.     Page  143. 

This  story  does  not  appear  in  Pliny. 

NOTE  35.     Page  144. 
"  Serpent  called  Perna." 

There  is  no  such  monster  in  Pliny.  He  uses  the 
word  for  a  scion  or  graft,  book  17.  c.  x.  and  it  also 
signifies  a  kind  of  shell-fish,  according  to  Basil. 
EABEE. 

NOTE  36.     Page  144. 
"  Achates." 

'  Achates  is  the  Latin  name  for  agate.  "  Pound  it 
was  first  in  Sicilie,  near  unto  a  river  called  likewise 
Achates;  but  afterwards  in  many  other  places." 


NOTES.  351 

"  People  are  persuaded  that  it  availeth  muth  against 
the  sting  of  venomous  spiders  and  scorpions :  which 
propertie  I  could  very  well  believe  to  be  in  the 
Sicilian  agaths,  for  that  so  soone  as  scorpions  come 
within  the  aire,  and  breath  of  the  said  province  of 
Sicilie,  as  venomous  as  they  bee  otherwise,  they  die 
thereupon."  "  In  Persia,  they  are  persuaded,  that 
a  perfume  of  agathes  turneth  away  tempests  and  all 
extraordinarie  impressions  of  the  aire,  as  also  staieth 
the  violent  streame  and  rage  of  rivers.  But  to 
know  which  be  proper  for  this  purpose,  they  use  to 
cast  them  into  a  cauldron  of  seething  water :  for  if 
they  coole  the  same,  it  is  an  argument  that  they  bee 
right." — Pliny  Nat.  Hist,  xxxvii.  10. 


NOTE  37.     Page  146. 
"  The  emperor  Julius." 

"  We  must  not  forget  that  there  was  the  romance 
of  JULIUS  CJSSAB.  And  I  believe  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra were  more  known  characters  in  the  dark  ages, 
than  is  commonly  supposed.  Shakspeare  is  thought 
to  have  formed  his  play  on  this  story  from  North's 
translation  of  Amy  ot's  unauthentic  French  Plutarch, 
published  in  London  in  1579." 

From  such  sources,  in  all  probability,  the  monks 


352  NOTES. 

derived  the  little  they  knew  of  the  GESTA  ROMAN- 
OBTTM. 

NOTE  38.     Page  148. 

Macrobius,  I  believe,  furnishes  no  relation  re- 
sembling the  present :  nor  is  it  likely,  perhaps. 

NOTE.  39.     Page  150. 
"  Cosdras." 

By  Cosdras,  is  meant  CODRTIS,  the  last  king  of 
Athens.  See  Justin  ii.  ch.  6  and  7. 

NOTE  40.     Page  152. 

There  is  no  foundation  in  Valerus  Maximus  for 
this  story. 

NOTE  41.     Page  154. 
"Marcus  Aurelius" 

MABCUS  CUETITJS  was  the  name  of  the  youth  who 
devoted  himself,  according  to  Eoman  History.  The 
condition  upon  which  the  sacrifice  was  to  be  per- 
formed, is  purely  monastic. 


NOTES.  353 

Note  42.     Page  156. 
"  Obtained  the  surname  of  BACCHUS." 

The  orgies  of  Tiberius  might  qualify  him  for  this 
title  ;  but  it  does  not  appear  that  it  was  ever  con- 
ferred. Seneca  said  pleasantly  of  this  emperor,  that 
"  he  never  was  drunk  but  once ;  and  that  once  was 
all  his  life." 

NOTE  43.     Page  157. 

"This  piece  of  history,  which  appears  also  in 
Cornelius  Agrippa  DE  YANITATE  SCIENTIABTJM,  is 
taken  from  Pliny,  or  rather  from  his  transcriber 
Isidore  *.  Pliny,  in  relating  this  story,  says,  that 
the  temperature  of  glass,  so  as  to  render  it  flexible, 
was  discovered  under  the  reign  of  Tiberius. 

"  In  the  same  chapter  Pliny  observes,  that  glass 
is  susceptible  of  all  colours.  *  Fit  et  album,  et  mur- 
rhenum,  aut  hyacinthos  sapphirosque  imitatum,  et 
omnibus  aliis  coloribus.  Nee  est  alia  nunc  materia 
•sequacior,  aut  etiam  pictures  accommodatior.  Max- 
imus  tamen  honor  in  candido  V  But  the  Romans, 
as  the  last  sentence  partly  proves,  probably  never 

1  Isidore  was  a  favourite  repertory  of  the  middle  ages. 

2  Pliny  Nat.  Hist,  xxxvi.  26. 


354  NOTES. 

used  any  coloured  glass  for  windows.  The  first 
notice  of  windows  of  a  church  made  of  coloured 
glass,  occurs  in  Chronicles  quoted  by  Muratori.  In 
the  year  802,  a  pope  built  a  church  at  Rome,  and 
1  fenestras  ex  vitro  diversis  coloribus  conclusit  atque 
decoravit.'  And  in  856  he  produces  '  fenestra  vero 
vitreis  coloribus,'  &c.  This,  however,  was  a  sort  of 
Mosaic  in  glass.  To  express  figures  in  glass,  or 
what  we  now  call  the  art  of  painting  in  glass,  was  a 
very  different  work :  and,  I  believe,  I  can  shew  it 
was  brought  from  Constantinople  to  Eome  before 
the  tenth  century,  with  other  ornamental  arts- 
Guiccardini,  who  wrote  about  1560,  in  his  Descrit- 
tione  de  tutti  Paesi  Bassi,  ascribes  the  invention  of 
baking  colours  in  glass  for  church-windows  to  the 
Netherlander® ;  but  he  does  not  mention  the  pe- 
riod, and  I  think  he  must  be  mistaken.  It  is  cer- 
tain that  this  art  owed  much  to  the  laborious  and 
mechanical  genius  of  the  Germans ;  and,  in  parti- 
cular, their  deep  researches  and  experiments  in  che- 
mistry, which  they  cultivated  in  the  dark  ages  with 
the  most  indefatigable  assiduity,  must  have  greatly 
assisted  its  operations.  I  could  give  very  early 
anecdotes  of  this  art  in  England." — " 


NOTES.  355 


NOTE  44.     Page  159. 

This  tale,  containing  an  appeal  to  natural  affec- 
tion, in  all  probability  takes  its  rise  from  the  judg- 
ment of  Solomon.  But  whether  or  not,  the  analogy- 
is  sufficiently  striking  to  betray  its  eastern  deriva- 
tion. 

NOTE  45.     Page  162. 

We  have  here  a  curious  instance  of  the  anoma- 
lous introduction  of  saints.  The  three  Magi  one 
would  have  thought  not  exactly  fitted  for  the  Chris- 
tian Calendar. 

NOTE  46.     Page  163. 


Pyx  is  properly  a  box.  "  Kufys,  a-aro  rot;  •TTU^OJ  quod 
nomen  buxum  significat,  unde  et  pyxidem  buxulum 
[tali  vocant."  —  FAB.  THES.  The  Eoman  Catholics 
put  the  Host  into  this  kind  of  box. 


NOTE  47.     Page  164. 
'  And  as  the  dew  moistens  the  herbage,  and  promotes 


356  NOTES. 

a  large  increase  of  fertility ,  so  the  clemency  of  a 
Ung  lifts  him  above  the  stars.1' 

The  Latin  original  is  as  follows :  "  Sicut  ros  her- 
bam  irrigat  ut  crescat ;  sic  dulcis  dementia  regis 
usque  ad  sydera  provehit  et  exaltat,"  which  coin- 
cides remarkably  with  a  passage  in  the  "  Merchant 
of  Venice." 

"  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained  j 
It  droppeth,  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven, 
Upon  the  place  beneath:' — Act  III.  Sc.  1. 

NOTE  48.     Page  166. 
"  As  QUIDIUS  has  observed." 

"Who  Qutidius  was  I  am  unable  to  say.  The  sen- 
timent here  referred  to  is  Ovid's — 

"  Neque  enim  lex  aequior  ulla, 

Quam  necis  artifices  arte  perire  sua." 

De  arte  Amandi.   y 

But  it  is  very  probable  that  we  should  read  Ovi> 
DIUS  for  QUIDIUS  above. 


NOTES.  357 

NOTE  49.     Page  167. 
"  PAULUS  the  historian  of  the  LONGOBABDI." 

"  Paulus,  that  is,  Paul  us  Diaconus,  the  historian 
of  the  Longobards  is  quoted.  He  was  chancellor  of 
Desiderius,  the  last  king  of  the  Lombards  ;  with 
whom  he  was  taken  captive  by  Charlemagne.  The 
history  here  referred  to  is  entitled  GESTA  LONGOBAB- 
DOBUM  *." — WABTON. 

NOTE  50.     Page  167. 
"  The  town  of  JULIUS. " 

Warton  calls  it  "  Foro-Juli"  because  the  Latin  is 
"  inforo  Julii"  In  all  probability  the  same  place 
is  meant  as  in  the  following  extract  from  the  old 
play  of  "  Promos  and  Cassandra"  "  In  the  cytie 
of  JULIO  (sometime  under  the  dominion  of  Corvinus, 
king  of  Hungarie,  and  Boemia)"  &c.  1578. 

1  Th ere  are  some  fine  circumstances  of  distress  in  Paulus's  de- 
scription of  the  siege. 


358  NOTES. 


NOTE  51.     Page  170. 

Zaleucus  *,  not  Zelongus,  was  the  name  of  the 
king  who  preformed  this  striking  act  of  justice.  It 
is  thus  told  by  Valerius  Maximus.  "Zaleucus, 
urbe  Locrensium  a  se  saluberrimis  atque  utilissimis 
legibusmunita,cumnlius  ejus  adulterii  crimine  dam- 
natus,  secundum  jus  ab  ipso  const ituturn,  utroque 
oculo  carere  deberet,  ac  tota  civitas  in  honorem  pa- 
tris  poenaB  necessitatem  adolescentulo  remitteret,  ali- 
quamdiu  repugnavit.  Ad  ultimum  precibus  populi 
evictus,  suo  prius,  deinde  filii  oculi  eruto,  usum  vi- 
dendi  utrique  reliquit.  Ita  debit um  supplicii  modum 
legi  reddidit,  sequitatis  admirabili  temperamento,  se 
inter  misericordem  patrem  et  justum  legislatorem 
partitus."— Lib.  vi.  c.  5.  Ex.  3. 

NOTE  52.     Page  172. 

I  have  met  with  a  similar  story  in  a  modern  book 
of  fables  under  the  following  form. 

"  One  hot  day  in  summer,  a  boar,  covered  with 
wounds,  threw  himself  beneath  the  shadow  of  a 
large  tree,  where  he  was  grievously  tormented  by 

1  Some  copies  read  SELSUCUS. 


NOTES.  :J09 

innumerable  swarms  of  flies.  A  fox,  who  was  pass- 
ing by,  drew  near;  and  good-naturedly  offered  to 
drive  away  the  obnoxious  insects.  '  Let  them  alone, 
my  friend,'  said  the  boar;  'these  flies  are  glutted, 
and  unable  to  do  me  much  further  injury.  But  if 
they  are  driven  off,  others  will  supply  their  places, 
and  at  this  rate,  I  shall  not  have  a  drop  of  blood  left 
in  my  body.' " 

NOTE  53.     Page  173. 

The  occasion  of  this  noble  proceeding  is  thus  de- 
tailed. "  Captivos  ab  Annibale  interposita  pactione 
nummorum  receperat.  Qui  cum  a  senatu  non  prse 
starentur,  misso  in  Urbem  filio,  fundum,  quern  uni- 
cum  possidebat,  vendidit,  ej  usque  pretium  Annibali 
protinus  numeravit.  Si  ad  calculos  revocetur,  par- 
vum,  utpote  septem  jugeribus,  et  hoc  in  Pupinia 
addictis,  redactum  :  si  animo  erogantis,  omni  pecu- 
nia  majus.  Se  enim  patrimonii,  quam  patriam  fidei, 
inopem  esse  maluit :  eo  quidem  majore  commenda- 
tione,  quod  proni  studii  certius  indicium  est  supra 
vires  niti,  quam  viribus  ex  facili  uti.  Alter  enim 
quod  potest,  praestat :  alter  etiam  plus  quam  potest." 
Valerius  Maximus,  Lib.  iv.  c.  8.  Ex.  1. 

The  Fabius  of  whom  this  is  told,  is  EABIUS  MAX- 


360 NOTES. 


NOTE  54.    Page  174. 

The  anecdote  is  thus  recorded  by  the  historian : 
'*  Senectutis  ultim»  qusedam,  Syracusanis  omnibus 
Dionysii  tyranni  exitum,  propter  nimiam  morum 
acerbitatem  et  intolerabiliaonera,votisexpetentibus, 
sola  quotidie  matutino  tempore  deos,  ut  incolumis 
ac  sibi  superstes  esset,  orabat.  Quod  ubi  is  cogno- 
vit, non  debitam  sibi  admiratus  benevolentiam,  ar- 
cessit  earn,  et  quid  ita  hoc,  aut  quo  suo  merito  facer  et, 
interrogavit.  Turn  ilia,  cert  a  est,  inquit,  ratio  pro- 
positi  mei,  puella  enim,  cum  gravem  tyrannum  habe- 
remus,  carere  eo  cupiebam  :  quo  interfecto,  aliquanto 
tetrior  arcem  occupavit.  Ejus  quoque  ftniri  domina- 
tionem  magni  (Estimabam  :  tertium  te  superioribus 
importuniorem  habere  ccepimus  rectorem.  Itaque 
timens,  ne,  si  tufueris  absumptus,  deterior  in  locum 
tuum  succedat,  caput  meam  pro  tua  salute  devoveo. 
Tarn  facetam  audaciam  Dionysius  punire  erubuit." 
Fal  Max.  Lib.  vi.  c.  2.  Ex.  2. 

This  must  remind  the  reader  of  ^Eaop's  fable  of 
the  frogs  who  desired  a  king.  Which  is  the  origi- 
nal ?  It  occurs  among  some  translated  Dutch  fables 
by  De  "Witt,  under  the  title  of  "  A  woman  praying 
for  the  long  Life  of  Dionysius  the  Tyrant"  See  the 
Appendix. 


NOTES.  361 

NOTE  55.     Page  176. 

"  I  wonder  there  are  not  more  romances  extant 
on  the  lives  of  the  Eoman  Emperors  in  Germany  > 
many  of  whom,  to  say  no  more,  were  famous  in  the 
crusades.  There  is  a  romance  in  old  G-erman  rhyme, 
called  TETTEKDAKK:,  on  Maximilian  the  first,  written 
by  Melchior  Pfinzing,  his  chaplain.  Printed  at 
Nuremberg  in  1517." — WAETON. 

NOTE  56.     Page  188. 

"  Caxton  has  the  history  of  Albrone,  a  king  of 
the  Lombards,  who  having  conquered  another  king, 
'  lade  awaye  wyth  hym  Eosomounde  his  wyf  in  cap- 
tyvyte,  but  after  he  took  hyr  to  hys  wyfe,  and  he 
dyde  make  a  cuppe  of  the  skulle  of  that  kynge, 
and  closed  in  fyne  golde  and  syluer,  and  dranke  out 
of  it1."  Gold  Leg.  f.  ccclxxxvii.  a  edit.  1493. 
"  This,  by  the  way,  is  the  old  Italian  tragedy  of  Mes- 
ser  Giovanni  Eucellai,  planned  on  the  model  of  the 
antients,  and  acted  in  the  Eucellai  Gardens,  at  Flo- 
rence, before  Leo  the  Tenth,  and  his  Court  in  the 

1  This  is  an  historical  fact,  and  may  be  found  in  Gibbon's 
"  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire."  Vol.  VIII.  page 
129.  1811. 

TOL.  I.  E 


362  NOTES. 

year  1516.  Davenant  has  also  a  tragedy  on  the  same 
subject,  called  ALBOVINE,  king  of  the  Lombards,  his 
Tragedy. 

"  A  most  sanguinary  scene  in  Shakspeare's  TITTJS 
ANDROIHCUS,  an  incident  in  Dryden's  or  Boccace's 
TANCRED  and  SIGISMONDA,  and  the  catastrophe  of 
the  beautiful  metrical  romance  .of  the  LADY  OP 
PAGUEL,  are  founded  on  the  same  horrid  ideas  of 
inhuman  retaliation  and  savage  revenge  ;  but  in  the 
last  two  pieces,  the  circumstances  are  so  ingeniously 
imagined,  as  to  lose  a  considerable  degree  of  their 
atrocity,  and  to  be  productive  of  the  most  pathetic 
and  interesting  situations." — WARTON. 

NOTE  57.     Page  189. 

"  He  called  VIRGIL." 

The  Latin  original  says,  Magistrum  Virgilium, 
Master  Virgil,  signifying  one  skilful  in  the  occult 
sciences. 

"  This  story  is  in  the  old  black-lettered  history  of 
the  Necromancer  Virgil,  in  Mr.  G-arrick's  collection. 

"  Vincent  of  Beauvais  relates  many  wonderful 

things,  mirabiliter  actitata,  done  by  the  poet  Virgil, 

whom  he  represents  as  a  magician.   Among  others, 

he  says,  that  Virgil  fabricated  those  brazen  statues, 

6 


NOTES.  363 

at  'Borne,  called  Salvacio  Roma,  which  were  the 
gods  of  the  provinces  conquered  by  the  Homans. 
Every  one  of  these  statues  held  in  its  hand  a  bell, 
framed  by  magic ;  and  when  any  province  was  me- 
ditating a  revolt,  the  statue  or  idol  of  that  country 
struck  his  bell," — WAETON. 

The  following  ingenious  hypothesis  may  explain 
the  cause  of  the  necromancy  so  universally  attri- 
buted to  Virgil  during  the  dark  ages. 

"  Maium  ilium,  avum  Virgilii,  exemplaria  vitae 
omnia  Magum  vocant.  At  cum  ejus  filia,  Yirgilii 
mater,  juxta  omnes  Maia  dicta  sit :  omnind  Maise 
pater  fuit  Mains,  non  Magus :  indeque  ortum  exis- 
timo,  ut  Yirgilius  magicis  artibus  imbutus  fuisse 
creditus  sit  ab  Elinando  monacho  aliisque  sequioris 
seculi  scriptoribus :  quod  et  Ecloga  septima  magica 
quaadam  sacra  descripsisset,  et  peritus  esset  mul- 
tarum  artium,  et  praecipue  avum  habuisse  MAGUM 
diceretur."—  Hist.  P.  Virg.  Mar.  a  Car.  Ruao. 

NOTE  57 l.     Page  203. 
"Broke  her  JESSES." 

Jesses  are  the  leather  straps  with  which  a  hawk 
was  confined.  It  is  not,  however,  in  the  Latin. 

1  Inaccurate  notation. 
B2 


364  NOTES. 


NOTE  58.     Page  208. 

"  On  this  there  is  an  ancient  French  MOBALITE, 
entitled,    L'Orgueil   et   Presomption  de  VEmpereur 
JOYIFIAN.'     This  is  also  the  story  of  ROBERT  king 
of  Sicily,   an  old  English  poem  or  romance."- 
WAETON. 

An  entertaining  abstract  of  this  old  romance  is 
here  added,  from  Mr.  Ellis 's  Specimens. 


"ROBERT  OF  CYSILLE. 

"  Robert  king  of  Sicily,  brother  to  Pope  Urban  and 
to  Valemond,  emperor  of  Germany,  was  among  the 
most  powerful  and  valorous  princes  of  Europe ;  but 
his  arrogance  was  still  more  conspicuous  than  his 
power  or  his  valour.  Constantly  occupied  by  the 
survey  of  his  present  greatness,  or  by  projects  for 
its  future  extension,  he  considered  the  performance 
of  his  religious  duties  as  insufferably  tedious  ;  and 
never  paid  his  adorations  to  the  Supreme  Being 
without  evident  reluctance  and  disgust.  His  guilt 
was  great ;  and  his  punishment  was  speedy  and 
exemplary. 


NOTES.  365 

"  Once  upon  a  time,  being  present  during  vespers 
on  the  eve  of  St.  John,  his  attention  was  excited  by 
the  following  passage  in  the  Magnificat ;  'deposuit 
potentes  de  sede,  et  exaltavit  humiles.'  He  inquired 
of  a  clerk  the  meaning  of  these  words  j  and,  having 
heard  the  explanation,  replied  that  such  expressions 
were  very  foolish,  since  he,  being  the  very  flower  of 
chivalry,  was  too  mighty  to  be  thrown  down  from 
his  seat,  and  had  no  apprehension  of  seeing  others 
exalted  at  his  expense.  The  clerk  did  not  presume 
to  attempt  any  remonstrance;  the  service  continued; 
Eobert  thought  it  longer  and  more  tedious  than 
ever  ;  and  at  last  fell  fast  asleep. 

"  His  slumber  was  not  interrupted,  nor  indeed 
noticed  by  any*bf  the  congregration,  because  an 
angel  having  in  the  mean  time  assumed  his  features, 
together  with  the  royal  robes,  had  been  attended  by 
the  usual  officers  to  the  palace,  where  supper  was 
immediately  served.  Robert,  however,  awaked  at 
the  close  of  day :  was  much  astonished  by  the 
darkness  of  the  church,  and  not  less  so  by  the  soli- 
tude which  surrounded  him.  He  began  to  call 
loudly  for  his  attendants,  and  at  length  attracted  the 
notice  of  the  sexton,  who,  conceiving  him  to  be  a 
thief  secreted  in  the  church  for  the  purpose  of  steal- 
ing the  sacred  ornaments,  approached  the  door  with 
E  3 


366  NOTES. 

some  precaution,  and  transmitted  his  suspicions 
through  the  key-hole.  Eobert  indignantly  repelled 
this  accusation,  affirming  that  he  was  the  king  ; 
upon  which  the  sexton,  persuaded  that  he  had  lost 
his  senses,  and  not  at  all  desirous  of  having  a  mad- 
man under  his  care, .opened  the  door,  and  was  glad 
to  see  the  supposed  maniac  run  with  all  speed  to 
the  palace.  But  the  palace  gates  were  shut ;  and 
Robert,  whose  temper  was  never  very  enduring,  and 
was  now  exasperated  by  rage  and  hunger,  vainly  at- 
tempted by  threats  of  imprisonment,  and  even  of 
death,  to  subdue  the  contumacy  of  the  porter. 
"While  the  metamorphosed  monarch  was  venting  his 
rage  at  the  gate,  this  officer  hastened  to  the  hall, 
and,  falling  on  his  knees,  requested  his  sovereign's 
orders  concerning  a  madman,  who  loudly  asserted 
his  right  to  the  throne.  The  angel  directed  that  he 
should  be  immediately  admitted ;  and  .Robert  at 
length  appeared,  covered  with  mud,  in  consequence 
of  an  affray  in  which  he  had  flattened  the  porter's 
nose,  and  had  been  himself  rolled  in  a  puddle  by 
the  porter's  assistants. 

"  Without  paying  the  least  attention  to  the  acci- 
dental circumstances,  or  the  clamours  of  the  wounded 
man,  who  loudly  demanded  justice,  he  rushed  up  to 
the  throne ;  and,  though  a  good  deal  startled  at 
finding  not  only  that,  and  all  the  attributes  of  roy- 


NOTES.  367 

alty,  but  even  his  complete  set  of  features  in  the 
posession  of  another,  he  boldly  proceeded  to  treat 
the  angel  as  an  impostor,  threatening  him  with  the 
vengeance  of  the  pope  and  of  the  emperor,  who  he 
thought  could  not  fail  of  distinguishing  the  true 
from  the  fictitious  sovereign  of  Sicily. 

"  '  Thou  art  my  fool !'  said  the  angel ; 
'  Thou  shalt  be  shorn  every  deal 

*  Like  a  fool,  a  fool  to  be  ; 

'  For  thou  hast  now  no  dignity. 

'  Thine  counsellor  shall  be  an  ape ; 

'  And  o' l  clothing  you  shall  be  shape. — 

*  He  shall  ben  thine  own  fere : 

*  Some  wit  of  him  thou  might  leere, 
'  Hounds,  how  so  it  befalle, 

*  Shall  eat  with  thee  in  the  hall. 

'  Thou  shalt  eaten  on  the  ground ; 
'  Thy  'sayer  shall  ben  an  hound, 
'  To  assay  thy  meat  before  thee  ; 
'  For  thou  hast  lore  thy  dignity.1 
He  cleped  a  barber  him  before, 
That,  as  a  fool,  he  should  be  shore, 
All  around  like  a  frere, 
An  hande-brede  2  above  the  ear  ; 

1    One  ;  i.e.  in  one.  2  A  baud's  breadth. 

£  4 


368  NOTES. 

And  on  his  crown  maken  a  cross1. 
He  gan  cry  and  make  noise  ; 
And  said  they  should  all  abye, 
That  did  him  swich  villainy,  &c. 

"  Thus  was  Robert  reduced  to  the  lowest  state 
of  human  degradation ;  an  object  of  contempt  and 
derision  to  those  whom  he  had  been  accustomed  to 
despise  ;  often  suffering  from  hunger  and  thirst ; 
and  seeing  his  sufferings  inspire  no  more  compas- 
sion than  those  of  the  animals, with  whom  he  shared 
his  precarious  and  disgusting  repast.  Yet  his  pride 
and  petulance  were  not  subdued.  To  the  frequent 
inquiries  of  the  angel,  whether  he  still  thought  him- 
self a  king,  he  continued  to  answer  by  haughty  de- 
nunciations of  vengeance,  and  was  incensed  almost 
to  madness,  when  this  reply  excited,  as  it  constantly 
did,  a  general  burst  of  laughter. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  Robert's  dominions  were  ad- 
mirably governed  by  his  angelic  substitute.  The 
country,  always  fruitful,  became  a  paragon  of  fer- 
tility ;  abuses  were  checked  by  a  severe  administra- 
tion of  equal  justice ;  and,  for  a  time,  all  evil  pro- 

1  "  The  custom  of  shaving  fools,  so  as  to  give  them  in  some 
measure  the  appearance  of  friars,  is  frequently  noticed  in  our 
oldest  romances." 


NOTES.  369 

penalties  seemed  to  be  eradicated  from  the  hearts  of 
the  happy  Sicilians — 

"  Every  man  loved  well  other  ; 
Better  love  was  never  with  brother. 
In  his  time  was  never  no  strife 
Between  man  and  his  wife  : 
Then  was  this  a  joyful  thing 
In  land  to  have  swich  a  king. 

"At  the  end  of  about  three  years  arrived  a  so- 
lemn embassy  from  Sir  Valemond  the  emperor, 
requesting  that  Robert  would  join  him  on  holy 
Thursday,  at  Eome,  whither  he  proposed  to  go  on 
a  visit  to  his  brother  Urban.  The  angel  welcomed 
the  ambassadors  :  bestowed  on  them  garments  lined 
with  ermine  and  embroidered  with  jewels,  so  exqui- 
sitely wrought  as  to  excite  universal  astonishment ; 
and  departed  in  their  company  to  Eome. — 

"  The  fool  Eobert  also  went, 
Clothed  in  loathly  garnement, 
With  fox-tails  riven  all  about : 
Men  might  him  knowen  in  the  rout, 
An  ape  rode  of1  his  clothing  ; 
So  foul  rode  never  king. 

1  Tu. 
£5 


370  NOTES. 

"  These  strange  figures,  contrasted  with  the  un- 
paralleled magnificence  of  the  angel  and  his  attend- 
ants, produced  infinite  merriment  among  the  spec- 
tators, whoso  shouts  of  admiration  were  enlivened 
by  frequent  peals  of  laughter. 

"  Robert  witnessed,  in  sullen  silence,  the  demon- 
strations of  affectionate  regard  with  which  the  pope 
and  the  emperor  welcomed  tbeir  supposed  brother; 
but,  at  length,  rushing  forward,  bitterly  reproached 
them  for  thus  joining  in  an  unnatural  conspiracy 
with  the  usurper  of  his  throne.  This  violent  sally, 
however,  was  received  by  his  brothers,  and  by  the 
whole  papal  court,  as  an  undoubted  proof  of  his 
madness ;  and  he  now  learnt  for  the  first  time  the 
real  extent  of  his  misfortune.  His  stubbornness 
and  pride  gave  way,  and  were  succeeded  by  senti- 
ments of  remorse  and  penitence. 

"  We  have  already  seen,  that  he  was  not  very 
profoundly  versed  in  scripture  history,  but  he  now 
fortunately  recollected  two  examples  which  he  con- 
sidered as  nearly  similar  to  his  own ;  those  -of  Ne- 
buchadnessar  and  Holofernes.  Recalling  to  his 
mind  their  greatness  and  degradation,  he  observed 
that  G-od  alone  had  bestowed  on  them  that  power 
which  he  afterwards  annihilated. — 

'  So  hath  he  mine,  for  my  gult ; 
'  Now  am  I  full  lowe  pult ; 


NOTES.  371 

'  And  that  is  right  that  I  BO  be  : 
'  Lord,  on  thy  fool  have  thou  pite  ! 

'  That  error  hath  made  me  to  smart 

'  That  I  had  in  my  heart ; 

'  Lord,  I  'leved  not  on  thee : 

1  Lord,  on  thy  fool  have  thou  pite. 

'  Holy  writ  I  had  in  despite ; 

*  Therefore  'reaved  is  my  right ; 

'  Thefore  is  right  a  fool  that  I  be : 

*  Lord,  on  thy  fool  have  thou  pite,  &c. 

"  The  sincerity  of  his  contrition  is  evinced,  in 
the  original,  by  a  long  series  of  such  stanzas,  with 
little  variation  of  thought  or  expression ;  but  the 
foregoing  specimen  will,  perhaps,  suffice  for  the  sa- 
tisfaction of  the  reader. 

"  After  five  weeks  spent  in  Rome,  the  emperor, 
and  the  supposed  king  of  Sicily,  returned  to  their 
respective  dominions,  Robert  being  still  accoutred 
in  his  fox-tails,  and  accompanied  by  his  ape,  whom 
he  now  ceased  to  consider  as  his  inferior.  When 
returned  to  the  palace,  the  angel,  before  the  whole 
court,  repeated  his  usual  question  ;  but  the  peni- 
tent, far  from  persevering  in  his  former  insolence, 
humbly  replied,  '  that  he  was  indeed  a  fool ;  or 
worse  than  a  fool ;  but  that  he  had  at  least  acquired 
B6 


372  NOTES. 

a  perfect  indifference  for  all  worldly  dignities.'  The 
attendants  were  now  ordered  to  retire :  and  the 
angel,  being  left  alone  with  Eobert,  informed  him 
that  his  sins  were  forgiven  ;  gave  him  a  few  salu- 
tary admonitions  and  added, 

'  I  am  an  angel  of  renown 

'  Sent  to  keep  thy  regioun. 

'  More  joy  me  shall  fall 

'  In  heaven,  among  mine  feren  all, 

'  In  an  hour  of  a  day, 

'  Than  here  I  thee  say, 

'  In  an  hundred  thousand  year ; 

'  Though  all  the  world,  far  and  near, 

"   Were  mine  at  my  liking : 

*  I  am  an  angel ;  thou  art  king!' 

"  With  these  words  he  disappeared;  and  Eobert, 
returning  to  the  hall,  received,  not  without  some 
surprise  and  confusion,  the  usual  salutations  of  the 
courtiers. 

"  From  this  period  he  continued,  during  three 
years,  to  reign  with  so  much  justice  and  wisdom 
that  his  subjects  had  no  cause  to  regret  the  change 
of  their  sovereign  ;  after  which,  being  warned  by 
the  angel  of  his  approaching  dissolution,  he  dictated 
to  his  secretaries  a  full  account  of  his  former  per- 
verseness,_and  of  its  strange  punishment ;  and, 


NOTES.  373 

having  sealed  it  with  the  royal  signet,  ordered  it  to 
be  sent,  for  the  edification  of  his  brothers,  to  Rome 
and  Vienna.  Both  received,  with  due  respect,  the 
important  lesson:  the  emperor  often  recollected  with 
tenderness  and  compassion  the  degraded  situation 
of  the  valiant  Robert ;  and  the  pope,  besides  avail- 
ing himself  of  the  story  in  a  number  of  sermons 
addressed  to  the  faithful,  caused  it  to  be  carefully 
preserved  in  the  archives  of  the  Vatican,  as  a  con- 
stant warning  against  pride,  and  an  incitement  to  the 
performance  of  our  religious  duties." 

The  story  of  "  The  King  of  Thibet  and  the  Prin- 
cess of  the  Naimans,"  in  the  Persian  and  Turkish 
Tales,  presents  an  incident  somewhat  similar.  But 
the  assumption  of  another's  likeness,  is  a  common 
eastern  figment. 

NOTE  59.     Page  212. 

"  This  is  evidently  a  Gothic  innovation  of  the 
classical  tale  of  Atalanta.  But  it  is  not  impos- 
sible, that  an  oriental  apologue  might  have  given 
rise  to  the  G-recian  fable." — WARTON. 

The  story  of  Atalanta,  I  consider  the  origin  of 
many  subsequent  fables.  Amongst  these,  the  "  Hare 
and  the  Tortoise  "  may  be  noticed. 


374  NOTES. 

NOTE  60.     Page  214. 

The  introduction  of  Alexander  the  Great,  So- 
crates, and  a  Boman  emperor,  is  a  strange  jumble 
of  times  and  persons. 

NOTE  61.     Page  223. 
"  Beware  that  you  lose  not  the  THBEAD." 

A  fine  moral,  which  might  be  oftener  remembered 
with  advantage.  The  Q-ospel  is  to  the  Christian, 
what  the  ball  of  thread  was  to  the  knight :  pity  that 
it  should  so  frequently  be  lost ! 

NOTE  62.     Page  224. 

"  Here  seems  to  be  an  allusion  to  MEDEA'S  his- 
tory."— WAIITON.  It  is  surely  more  analogous  to 
the  story  of  the  Minotaur,  and  the  clue  furnished 
by  Adriadne  to  her  lover.  Warton  should  have  ex- 
plained the  resemblance  he  has  fancied. 

NOTE  63.     Page  234. 

"  My  friend,  let  us  go  through   the  world  as  other 
knights  are  wont  to  do" 

"  Sicut  cseteri  milites."  Here  we  discover  those 
features  of  chivalry,  so  admirably  ridiculed  by  Cer- 


NOTES.  375 


vantes.  But,  in  times  of  oppression,  when  every 
one  followed 

"  the  simple  plan, 

That  he  may  take  who  has  the  power, 
And  he  may  keep  who  can," 

the  wandering  hero  ever  ready  to  risk  his  life  in 
defence  of  the  injured,  was  governed  by  a  noble  and 
useful  institution. 

NOTE  64.     Page  236. 
"  If  the  end  be  well,  all  is  well" 

"  Si  finis  bonus  est,  totum  bonum  erit."  This 
gives  us  the  origin,  probably,  of  the  proverb,  "  All's 
well  that  ends  well."  "  Finis  coronat  opus,"  is  of  a 
similar  character. 

NOTE  65.     Page  239. 

The  interpretation  of  the  language  of  birds,  is 
clearly  an  oriental  fiction ;  several  instances  of 
which  are  furnished  by  the  Arabian  Tales.  It  has 
since  been  made  the  vehicle  of  many  instructive 
fables.  See  Spectator,  Vol.  VII.  No.  512.  which  is 
copied  from  the  "  Story  of  the  two  Owls"  in  the 
Turkish  Tales. 


376  NOTES. 

NOTE  66.     Page  250. 
This  fable  has  crept  in  our  story-books. 

NOTE  67.     Page  273. 
We  have  here  a  new  version  of  an  JEsopian  fable. 

NOTE  68.    Page  280. 

"  This  is  the  fable  of  Parnell's  HEBMIT,  which 
that  elegant  and  original  writer  has  heightened  with 
many  masterly  touches  of  poetical  colouring,  and  a 
happier  arrangement  of  circumstances.  Among 
other  proofs  which  might  be  mentioned  of  Parnell's 
genius  and  address  in  treating  this  subject,  by  re- 
serving the  discovery  of  the  angel  to  a  critical 
period  at  the  close  of  the  fable,  he  has  found  means 
to  introduce  a  beautiful  description,  and  an  interest- 
ing surprise." — WAETON. 

That  the  reader  may  compare  the  two  stories  the 
more  readily,  it  is  inserted  here. 

"  THE  HEEMIT. 

"  EAR  in  a  wild,  unknown  to  public  view, 
Prom  youth  to  age  a  reverend  hermit  grew, 


NOTES.  377 

The  moss  his  bed,  the  cave  his  humble  cell, 
His  food  the  fruits,  his  drink  the  crystal  well : 
Remote  from  men,  with  G-od  he  pass'd  his  days, 
Pray'r  all  his  business,  all  his  pleasure  praise. 

"  A  life  so  sacred,  such  serene  repose, 
Seem'd  heaven  itself,  till  one  suggestion  rose  ; 
That  vice  should  triumph,  virtue  vice  obey, — 
This  sprung  some  doubt  of  Providence's  sway  : 
His  hopes  no  more  a  certain  prospect  boast, 
And  all  the  tenour  of  his  soul  was  lost : 
So  when  a  smooth  expanse  receives  imprest 
Calm  nature's  image  on  its  wat'ry  breast, 
Down  bend  the  banks,  the  trees  depending  grow, 
And  skies  beneath  with  answering  colours  glow  : 
But  if  a  stone  the  gentle  sea  divide, 
Swift  ruffling  circles  curl  on  every  side, 
And  glimmering  fragments  of  a  broken  sun, 
Banks,  trees,  and  skies  in  thick  disorder  run. 

"  To  clear  this  doubt,  to  know  the  world  by  sight, 
To  find  if  books,  or  swains,  report  it  right, 
For  yet  by  swains  alone  the  world  he  knew, 
Whose  feet  came  wand'ring  o'er  the  nightly  dew) 
He  quits  his  cell ;  the  pilgrim's  staff  he  bore, 
And  fix'd  the  scallop  in  his  hat  before  ; 
Then  with  the  sun  a  rising  journey  went, 
Sedate  to  think,  and  watching  each  event. 


378  NOTES. 

"  The  morn  was  wasted  in  the  pathless  grass, 
And  long  and  lonesome  was  the  wild  to  pass  ; 
But  when  the  southern  sun  had  warm'd  the  day, 
A  youth  came  posting  o'er  the  crossing  way  ! 
His  raiment  decent,  his  complexion  fair, 
And  soft  in  graceful  ringlets  wav'd  his  hair. 
Then  near  approaching,  Father,  hail !  he  cried, 
And  hail,  my  son,  the  rev'rend  sire  replied  ; 
Words  follow'd  words,  from  question  answer  flow'd, 
And  talk  of  various  kind  deceiv'd  the  road, 
'Till  each  with  other  pleas'd,  and  loth  to  part, 
While  in  their  age  they  differ,  join  in  heart. 
Thus  stands  an  aged  elm  in  ivy  bound, 
Thus  youthful  ivy  clasps  an  elm  around. 

"  Now  sunk  the  sun  ;  the  closing  hour  of  day, 
Came  onward,  mantled  o'er  with  sober  grey  : 
Nature  in  silence  bid  the  world  repose  ; 
When  near  the  road  a  stately  palace  rose ; 
There  by  the  moon  thro'  ranks  of  trees  they  pass, 
Whoseverdurecrown'dtheir  sloping  sides  with  grass: 
It  chanc'd  the  noble  master  of  the  dome, 
Still  made  his  house  the  wand'ring  stranger's  home. 
Yet  still  the  kindness,  from  a  thirst  of  praise, 
Prov'd  the  vain  flourish  of  expensive  ease. 
The  pair  arrive  ;  the  liv'ry'd  servants  wait ; 
Their  lord  receives  them  at  the  pompous  gate. 


NOTES.  379 

The  table  groans  with  costly  piles  of  food, 
And  all  is  more  than  hospitably  good. 
Then  led  to  rest,  the  day's  long  toil  they  drown, 
Deep  sunk  in  sleep,  and  silk,  and  heaps  of  down. 

"  At  length,  'tis  morn,  and  at  the  dawn  of  day, 
Along  the  wide  canals  the  zephyrs  play : 
Eresh  o'er  the  gay  parterres  the  breezes  creep, 
And  shake  the  neighbouring  wood  to  banish  sleep. 
Tip  rise  the  guests,  obedient  to  the  call ; 
An  early  banquet  deck'd  the  splendid  hall; 
Bich  luscious  wine  a  golden  goblet  grac'd, 
Which  the  kind  master  forc'd  his  guests  to  taste. 
Then  pleas'd  and  thankful,  from  the  porch  they  go ; 
And,  but  the  landlord,  none  had  cause  for  woe ; 
His  cup  was  vanish'd ;  for  in  secret  guise, 
The  younger  guest  purloin'd  the  glittering  prize. 

"  As  one  who  spies  a  serpent  in  his  way, 
Grlist'ning  and  basking  in  the  sunny  ray, 
Disorder'd  stops  to  shun  the  danger  near, 
Then  walks  with  faintness  on,  and  looks  with  fear  : 
So  seem'd  the  sire;  when,  far  upon  the  road, 
The  shining  spoil  his  wily  partner  shew'd  : 
He  stopp'dwith  silence, walk'dwith  trembling  heart, 
And  much  he  wish'd,  but  durst  not  ask,  to  part ; 
Murmuring  he  lifts  his  eyes,  and  thinks  it  hard, 
That  generous  actions  meet  a  base  reward. 


380  NOTES. 

"  While  thus  they  pass,  the  sun  his  glory  shrouds, 
The  changing  skies  hang  out  their  sable  clouds ; 
A  sound  in  air  presag'd  approaching  rain, 
And  beasts  to  covert  scud  across  the  plain. 
Warn'd  by  the  signs,  the  wand'ring  pair  retreat, 
,  To  seek  for  shelter  at  a  neighb'ring  seat. 
'Twas  built  with  turrets  on  a  rising  ground, 
And  strong,  and  large,  and  unimprov'd  around  ; 
Its  owner's  temper,  tim'rous  and  severe, 
Unkind  and  griping,  caus'd  a  desert  there. 

"  As  rear  the  miser's  heavy  doors  they  drew, 
Fierce  rising  gusts  with  sudden  fury  blew ; 
The  nimble  light'ning  mix'd  with  show'rs  began, 
And  o'er  their  heads  loud  rolling  thunders  ran. 
Here  long  they  knock,  but  knock  or  call  in  vain, 
Driv'n  by  the  wind,  and  batter'd  by  the  rain. 
At  length  some  pity  warm'd  the  master's  breast, 
('Twas  then  his  threshold  first  receiv'd  a  guest.) 
Slow  creaking  turns  the  door  with  jealous  care, 
And  half  he  welcomes  in  the  shiv'ring  pair ; 
One  frugal  faggot  lights  the  naked  walls, 
And  nature's  fervour  thro'  their  limbs  recalls  : 
Bread  of  the  coarsest  sort,  with  eager 1  wine, 
(Each  hardly  granted)  serv'd  them  both  to  dine ; 
And  when  the  tempest  first  appear'd  to  cease, 
A  ready  warning  bade  them  part  in  peace. 

1  Sour. 


NOTES.  381 

"  "With  still  remark  the  pond'ring  hermit  view'd, 
In  one  so  rich,  a  life  so  poor  and  rude : 
And  why  should  such,  within  himself  he  cry'd, 
Lock  the  lost  wealth  a  thousand  want  beside  ? 
But  what  new  marks  of  wonder  soon  took  place, 
In  every  settling  feature  of  his  face  ; 
When  from  his  vest  the  young  companion  bore 
That  cup  the  generous  landlord  own'd  before, 
And  paid  profusely  with  the  precious  bowl 
The  stinted  kindness  of  the  churlish  soul. 

"  But  now  the  clouds  in  airy  tumult  fly ; 
The  sun  emerging  opes  an  azure  sky ; 
A  fresher  green  the  smelling  leaves  display, 
And,  glitt'ring  as  they  tremble,  cheer  the  day  ; 
The  weather  tempts  them  from  the  poor  retreat, 
And  the  glad  master  bolts  the  wary  gate. 
While  hence  they  walk,  the  pilgrim's  bosom  wrought 
With  all  the  travel  of  uncertain  thought ; 
His  partner's  acts  without  their  cause  appear, 
'Twas  there  a  vice  and  seem'd  a  madness  here ; 
Detesting  that,  and  pitying  this,  he  goes, 
Lost  and  confounded  with  the  various  shows. 

"  Nownight's  dim  shades  again  involve  the  sky.  -\ 
Again  the  wand'rers  want  a  place  to  lie ;  f 

Again  they  search,  and  find  a  lodging  nigh.  \ 

The  soil  improv'd  around,  the  mansion  neat, 
And  neither  poorly  low,  nor  idly  great; 


382  NOTES. 

It  seem'd  to  speak  its  master's  turn  of  mind, 
Content, — and  not  for  pcaise,  but  virtue  kind. 
;    "  Hither  the  walkers  turn  with  weary  feet, 
Then  bless  the  mansion,  and  the  master  greet : 
Their  greeting  fair,  bestow'd  with  modest  guise, 
The  modest  master  hears,  and  thus  replies : 

*  Without  a  vain,  without  a  grudging  heart, 
To  him,  who  gives  us  all,  I  yield  a  part ; 
From  him  you  come,  for  him  accept  it  here, 
A  frank  and  sober,  more  than  costly  cheer. 
He  spoke,  and  bid  the  welcome  table  spread, 
Then  talk'd  of  virtue  till  the  time  of  bed, 
When  the  grave  household  round  his  hall  repair, 
Warn'd  by  a  bell,  and  close  the  hours  with  pray'r. 
At  length  the  world,  renew'd  by  calm  repose, 
Was  strong  for  toil,  the  dappled  morn  arose ; 
Before  the  pilgrims  part,  the  younger  crept 
Near  the  closed  cradle,  where  an  infant  slept, 
And  writh'd  his  neck :  the  landlord's  little  pride, 
O  strange  return !  grew  black,  and  gasp'd  and  died. 
Horror  of  horrors  !  what !  his  only  son ! 
How  look'd  the  hermit  when  the  fact  was  done ; 
Not  hell,  tho'  hell's  black  jaws  in  sunder  part, 
And  breathe  blue  fire,  could  more  assault  his  heart. 

"  Confus'd,  and  struck  with  silence  at  the  deed, 
He  flies,  but  trembling  fails  to  fly  with  speed. 


NOTES.  383 

His  steps  the  youth  pursues ;  the  country  lay 
Perplex' d  with  roads,  a  servant  show'd  the  way  : 
A  river  cross'd  the  path ;  the  passage  o'er 
Was  nice  to  find  ;  the  servant  trod  before ; 
Long  arms  of  oak  an  open  bridge  supply'd, 
And  deep  the  waves  beneath  the  bending  branches 

glide. 

The  youth,  who  seem'd  to  watch  a  time  for  sin, 
Approach'd  the  careless  guide,  and  thrust  him  in ; 
Plunging  he  falls,  and  rising  lifts  his  head, 
Then  flashing  turns,  and  sinks  amongst  the  dead. 

Wild,  sparkling  rage  inflames  the  father's  eyes, 
He  bursts  the  bands  of  fear,  and  madly  cries, 
Detested  wretch — but  scarce  his  speech  began, 
When  the  strange  partner  seem'd  no  longer  man. 
His  youthful  face  grew  more  serenely  sweet : 
His  robe  turn'd  white  and  flow'd  upon  his  feet ; 
Fair  rounds  of  radiant  points  invest  his  hair ; 
Celestial  odours  breathe  thro'  purple  air ; 
And  wings,  whose  colours  glitter'd  on  the  day, 
Wide  at  his  back  their  gradual  plumes  display. 
The  form  etherial  bursts  upon  his  sight, 
And  moves  in  all  the  majesty  of  light. 

"  Tho'  loud  at  first  the  pilgrim's  passion  grew, 
Sudden  he  gaz'd,  and  wist  not  what  to  do ; 
Surprize  in  secret  chains  his  words  suspends, 
And  in  a  calm  his  settling  temper  ends. 


384  NOTES. 

But  silence  here  the  beauteous  angel  broke, 
(The  voice  of  music  ravish'd  as  he  spoke.) 

".Thy  pray'r,  thy  praise,  thy  life  to  vice  unknown, 
In  sweet  memorial  rise  before  the  throne : 
These  charms  success  in  our  bright  region  find, 
And  force  an  angel  down  to  calm  thy  mind ; 
For  this  commission' d,  I  forsook  the  sky  : — 
Nay  cease  to  kneel — thy  fellow-servant  I. 

"Then  know  the  truth  of  government  divine, 
And  let  these  scruples  be  no  longer  thine, 
The  Maker  justly  claims  the  world  he  made, 
In  this  the  right  of  Providence  is  laid ; 
Its  sacred  majesty  thro'  all  depends, 
On  using  second  means  to  work  his  ends ; 
'Tis  thus,  withdrawn  in  state  from  human  eye, 
The  Power  exerts  his  attributes  on  high, 
Your  actions  uses,  nor  controuls  your  will, 
And  bids  the  doubting  sons  of  men  be  still. 

"  "What  strange  events  can  strike  with  more  sur- 
prize, 

Than  those  which  lately  struck  thy  wond'ring  eyes  ? 
Yet,  taught  by  these,  confess  the  Almighty  just, 
And,  where  you  can't  unriddle,  learn  to  trust ! 

"  The  great  vain  man,  who  far'd  on  costly  food, 
Whose  life  was  too  luxurious  to  be  good ; 
"Who  made  his  iv'ry  stands  with  goblets  shine, 
And  forc'd  his  guests  to  morning  draughts  of  wine, 


NOTES.  385 

Has,  with  the  cup,  the  graceless  custom  lost, 
And  still  he  welcomes,  but  with  less  of  cost. 

"The  mean,  suspicious  wretch,  whose  bolted  door 
Ne'er  mov'd  in  pity  to  the  wand'ring  poor ; 
With  him  I  left  the  cup,  to  teach  his  mind 
That  heav'n  can  bless,  if  mortals  will  be  kind. 
Conscious  of  wanting  worth,  he  views  the  bowl, 
And  feels  compassion  touch  his  grateful  soul. 
Thus  artists  melt  the  sullen  ore  of  lead, 
With  heaping  coals  of  fire  upon  his  head  ; 
In  the  kind  warmth  the  metal  learns  to  glow, 
And  loose  from  dross  the  silver  runs  below. 

"  Long  had  our  pious  friend  in  virtue  trod, 
But  now  the  child  half- weaned  his  heart  from  God ; 
(Child  of  his  age)  for  him  he  liv'd  in  pain, 
And  measur'd  back  his  steps  to  earth  again. 
To  what  excesses  had  his  dotage  run  ? 
But  Grod,  to  save  the  father,  took  the  son. 
To  all,  but  thee,  in  fits  he  seem'd  to  go, 
(And  'twas  my  ministry  to  deal  the  blow,) 
The  poor  fond  parent,  humbled  in  the  dust, 
Now  owns  in  tears  the  punishment  was  just. 

But  how  had  all  his  fortunes  felt  a  wrack, 
Had  that  false  servant  sped  in  safety  back  ; 
This  night  his  treasur'd  heaps  he  meant  to  steal, 
And  what  a  fund  of  charity  would  fail ! 

TOL.  i.  s 


386  NOTES. 

Thus  heav'n  instructs  thy  mind :  this  trial  o'er, 
Depart  in  peace,  resign  and  sin  no  more. 

"  On  sounding  pinions  here  the  youth  withdrew, 
The  sage  stood  wond'ring  as  the  seraph  flew. 
Thus  look'd  Elisha,  when  to  mount  on  high, 
His  Master  took  the  chariot  of  the  sky  ; 
The  fiery  pomp  ascending  left  the  view  ; 
The  prophet  gaz'd,  and  wish'd  to  follow  too. 

"  The  bending  hermit  here  a  pray'r  begun, 
LORD,  AS  IN  HEAV'N,  ON  EARTH  THY  WILL  BE  DONE. 
Then,  gladly  turning,  sought  his  ancient  place, 
And  pass'd  a  life  of  piety  and  peace." 

"  The  same  apologue  occurs,  with  some  slight 
additions  and  variations  for  the  worse,  in  Howell's 
LETTERS  ;  who  professes  to  have  taken  it  from  the 
speculative  Sir  Philip  Herbert's  CONCEPTIONS  to  his 
Son,  a  book  which  I  have  never  seen.  These  Letters 
were  published  about  the  year  1650.  It  is  also 
found  in  the  DIVINE  DIALOGUES  of  Doctor  Henry 
More,  who  has  illustrated  its  important  moral  with 
the  following  fine  reflections. 

"  '  The  affairs  of  this  world  are  like  a  curious, 
but  intricately  contrived  comedy ;  and  we  cannot 
judge  of  the  tendency  of  what  is  past,  or  acting  at 
present,  before  the  entrance  of  the  last  act,  which 


NOTES.  387 

shall  bring  in  righteousness  in  triumph :  who,  though 
she  hath  abided  many  a  brunt,  and  has  been  very 
cruelly  and  despitefully  used  hitherto  in  the  world, 
yet  at  last,  according  to  our  desires,  we  shall  see  the 
knight  overcome  the  giant.  For  what  is  the  reason 
we  are  so  much  pleased  with  the  reading  romances 
and  the  fictions  of  the  poets,  but  that  here,  as 
Aristotle  says,  things  are  set  down  as  they  should 
be ;  but  in  the  true  history  hitherto  of  the  world, 
things  are  recorded  indeed  as  they  are,  but  it  is  but 
a  testimony,  that  they  have  not  been  as  they  should 
be  ?  Wherefore,  in  the  upshot  of  all,  when  we  shall 
see  that  come  to  pass,  that  so  mightily  pleases  us  in 
the  reading  the  |most  ingenious  plays  and  heroic 
poems,  that  long  afflicted  virtue  at  last  comes  to 
the  crown,  the  mouth  of  all  unbelievers  must  be  for 
ever  stopped.  And  for  my  own  part,  I  doubt  not 
but  that  it  will  so  come  to  pass  in  the  close  of  the 
world.  But  impatiently  to  call  for  vengeance  upon 
every  enormity  before  that  time,  is  rudely  to  over- 
turn the  stage  before  the  entrance  into  the  fifth  act, 
out  of  ignorance  of  the  plot  of  the  comedy  ;  and 
to  prevent  the  solemnity  of  the  general  judgment 
by  more  paltry  and  particular  executions.' 

"  Parnell  seems  to  have  chiefly  followed  the  story 
as  it  is  told  by  this  Platonic  theologist,  who  had  not 


960030 


388  NOTES. 

less  imagination  than  learning.  Pope  used  to  say, 
that  it  was  originally  written  in  Spanish.  This  I  do 
not  believe :  but  from  the  early  connection  between 
the  Spaniards  and  Arabians,  this  assertion  tends  to 
confirm  the  suspicion,  that  it  was  an  oriental  tale1." 
— WABTON. 


1  "  I  must  not  forget,  that  it  occurs,  as  told  in  our  GESTA, 
among  a  collection  of  Latin  apologues,  quoted  above,  MSS. 
HAUL.  463.  fol.  8.  a.  The  rubric  is,  Deangelo  quiduxit  Here, 
mitam  ad  diversa  Hospitia." — WARTON. 


END   OF  YOL.   I 


PA  8323  .E5  W7  v.l  SMC 

Gesta  Romanorum. 

English. 
Gesta  Romanorum,  or, 

Entertaining  stories 
AKI-0927