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