{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_28094/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_28094","id":"gutenberg_28094","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28094","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Literature, Medieval -- Translations into English","Tales"],"text":"Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMEDIAEVAL TALES\n\n_WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY_\nLL. D., LATE PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AT\nUNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON\n\n\nLONDON:\nGEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, LTD.\nNEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nThis volume of \"Mediaeval Tales\" is in four parts, containing severally,\n(1) Turpin's \"History of Charles the Great and Orlando,\" which is an old\nsource of Charlemagne romance; (2) Spanish Ballads, relating chiefly to\nthe romance of Charlemagne, these being taken from the spirited\ntranslations of Spanish ballads published in 1823 by John Gibson\nLockhart; (3) a selection of stories from the \"Gesta Romanorum;\" and (4)\nthe old translation of the original story of Faustus, on which Marlowe\nfounded his play, and which is the first source of the Faust legend in\nliterature.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTurpin's \"History of Charles the Great and Orlando\" is given from a\ntranslation made by Thomas Rodd, and published by himself in 1812, of\n\"Joannes Turpini Historia de Vita Caroli Magni et Rolandi.\" This\nchronicle, composed by some monk at an unknown date before the year\n1122, professed to be the work of a friend and secretary of Charles the\nGreat, Turpin, Archbishop of Rheims, who was himself present in the\nscenes that he describes. It was--like Geoffrey of Monmouth's nearly\ncontemporary \"History of British Kings,\" from which were drawn tales of\nGorboduc, Lear and King Arthur--romance itself, and the source of\nromance in others. It is at the root of many tales of Charlemagne and\nRoland that reached afterwards their highest artistic expression in\nAriosto's \"Orlando Furioso.\" The tale ascribed to Turpin is of earlier\ndate than the year 1122, because in that year Pope Calixtus II.\nofficially declared its authenticity. But it was then probably a new\ninvention, designed for edification, for encouragement of faith in the\nChurch, war against infidels, and reverence to the shrine of St. James\nof Compostella.\n\nThe Church vouched for the authorship of Turpin, Archbishop of Rheims,\n\"excellently skilled in sacred and profane literature, of a genius\nequally adapted to prose and verse; the advocate of the poor, beloved\nof God in his life and conversation, who often hand to hand fought the\nSaracens by the Emperor's side; and who flourished under Charles and his\nson Lewis to the year of our Lord eight hundred and thirty.\" But while\nthis work gave impulse to the shaping of Charlemagne romances with\nOrlando (Roland) for their hero, there came to be a very general opinion\nthat, whether the author of the book were Turpin or another, he too was\na romancer. His book came, therefore, to be known as the \"Magnanime\nMensonge,\" a lie heroic and religious.\n\nNo doubt Turpin's \"Vita Caroli Magni et Rolandi\" was based partly on\ntraditions current in its time. It was turned of old into French\nverse and prose; and even into Latin hexameters. The original work\nwas first printed at Frankfort in 1566, in a collection of Four\nChronographers--\"Germanicarum Rerum.\" Mr. Rodd's translation, here\ngiven, was made from the copy of the original given in Spanheim's \"Lives\nof Ecclesiastical Writers.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPublication of the songs and ballads of Spain began at Valencia in the\nyear 1511 with a collection by Fernando del Castillo, who on his\ntitle-page professed to collect pieces \"as well ancient as modern.\" From\n1511 to 1573 there were nine editions of this \"Cancionero.\" A later\ncollection made between 1546 and 1550--The \"Cancionero de Romances\"--was\nmade to consist wholly of ballads. A third edition of it, in 1555, is\nthe fullest and best known. The greatest collection followed in nine\nparts, published separately between 1593 and 1597, at Valencia, Burgos,\nToledo, Alcala, and Madrid. This formed the great collection known as\nthe \"Romancero General.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe chief hero of the Spanish Ballads is the Cid Campeador; and Robert\nSouthey used these ballads as material for enriching the \"Chronicle of\nthe Cid,\" which has already been given in this Library. Songs of the Cid\nwere sung as early as the year 1147, are of like date with the\n\"Magnanime Mensonge\" and Geoffrey of Monmouth's \"History of British\nKings.\" In 1248 St. Ferdinand gave allotments to two poets who had been\nwith him during the Siege of Seville, and who were named Nicolas and\nDomingo Abod \"of the Romances.\" There is also evidence from references\nto what \"the _juglares_ sing in their chants and tell in their tales,\"\nthat in the middle of the thirteenth century tales of Charlemagne and of\nBernardo del Carpio were familiar in the mouths of ballad-singers.\n\nThe whole number of the old ballads of Spain exceeds a thousand, and of\nthese John Gibson Lockhart has translated some of the best into English\nverse. Lockhart was born in 1793, was the son of a Scottish minister,\nwas educated at the Universities of Glasgow and Oxford, and was called\nto the bar at Edinburgh in 1816. Next year he was one of the keenest of\nthe company of young writers whose genius and lively audacity established\nthe success of \"Blackwood's Magazine.\" Three years later, in 1820, he\nmarried the eldest daughter of Sir Walter Scott. Lockhart's vigorous\nrendering of the spirit of the Spanish Romances was first published in\n1823, two years before he went to London to become editor of the\n\"Quarterly Review.\" He edited the \"Quarterly\" for about thirty years,\nand died in 1854.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe \"Gesta Romanorum;\" is a mediaeval compilation of tales that might be\nused to enforce and enliven lessons from the pulpit. Each was provided\nwith its \"Application.\" The French Dominican, Vincent of Beauvais, tells\nin his \"Mirror of History\" that in his time--the thirteenth century--it\nwas the practice of preachers, to rouse languid hearers by quoting\nfables out of AEsop, and he recommends a sparing and discreet use of\nprofane fancies in discussing sacred subjects. Among the Harleian MSS.\nis an ancient collection of 215 stories, romantic, allegorical and\nlegendary, compiled by a preacher for the use of monastic societies.\nThere were other such collections, but the most famous of all, widely\nused not only by the preachers but also by the poets, was the Latin\nstory-book known as the \"Gesta Romanorum.\" Its name, \"Deeds of the\nRomans,\" was due to its fancy for assigning every story to some emperor\nwho had or had not reigned in Rome; the emperor being a convenient\nperson in the Application, which might sometimes begin with, \"My\nbeloved, the emperor is God.\" Perhaps the germ of the collection may\nhave been a series of applied tales from Roman history. But if so, it\nwas soon enriched with tales from the East, from the \"Clericalis\nDisciplina,\" a work by Petrus Alfonsus, a baptized Jew who lived in\n1106, and borrowed professedly from the Arabian fabulists. Mediaeval\ntales of all kinds suitable for the purpose of the \"Gesta Romanorum\"\nwere freely incorporated, and the book so formed became a well-known\nstorehouse of material for poetic treatment. Gower, Shakespeare,\nSchiller are some of the poets who have used tales which are among the\nthirty given in this volume.\n\nThe \"Gesta Romanorum\" was first printed in 1473, and after that date\noften reprinted. It was translated into Dutch as early as the year 1484.\nThere was a translation of forty-three of its tales into English, by\nRichard Robinson, published in 1577, of which there were six or seven\neditions during the next twenty-four years. A version of forty-five of\nits tales was published in 1648 as \"A Record of Ancient Histories.\" The\nfullest English translation was that by the Rev. C. Swan, published in\n1824. In this volume two or three tales are given in the earlier English\nform, the rest from Mr. Swan's translation, with a little revision of\nhis English. Mr. Swan used Book English, and was apt to write \"an\ninstrument of agriculture\" where he would have said \"a spade.\" I give\nhere thirty of the Tales, but of the \"Applications\" have left only\nenough to show how they were managed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the volume of this Library, which contains Marlowe's \"Faustus\" and\nGoethe's \"Faust,\" reference has been made to the old German History of\nFaustus, first published at Frankfort in September 1587, and reprinted\nwith slight change in 1588. There was again a reprint of it with some\nadditions in 1589. This book was written by a Protestant in early days\nof the Reformation, but shaped by him from mediaeval tales of magic, with\nsuch notions of demons and their home as had entered deeply in the\nMiddle Ages into popular belief. From it was produced within two years\nof its first publication Marlowe's play of \"Faustus,\" which has already\nbeen given, and that English translation of the original book which will\nbe found in the present volume. It was reprinted by Mr. William J. Thoms\nin his excellent collection of \"Early English Prose Romances,\" first\npublished in 1828, of which there was an enlarged second edition, in\nthree volumes, in 1858. That is a book of which all students of English\nliterature would like to see a third and cheap edition.\n\nH. M.\n_October 1884._\n\n\n\n\nTURPIN'S HISTORY\nOF\nCHARLES THE GREAT AND ORLANDO.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY\nOF\nCHARLES THE GREAT AND ORLANDO.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n_Archbishop Turpin's Epistle to Leopander._\n\n\nTurpin, by the grace of God, Archbishop of Rheims, the faithful\ncompanion of the Emperor Charles the Great in Spain, to Leopander, Dean\nof Aix-la-Chapelle, greeting.\n\nForasmuch as you requested me to write to you from Vienne (my wounds\nbeing now cicatrized) in what manner the Emperor Charles delivered Spain\nand Gallicia from the yoke of the Saracens, you shall attain the\nknowledge of many memorable events, and likewise of his praiseworthy\ntrophies over the Spanish Saracens, whereof I myself was eyewitness,\ntraversing France and Spain in his company for the space of forty years;\nand I hesitate the less to trust these matters to your friendship, as I\nwrite a true history of his warfare. For indeed all your researches\ncould never have enabled you fully to discover those great events in the\nChronicles of St. Denis, as you sent me word: neither could you for\ncertain know whether the author had given a true relation of those\nmatters, either by reason of his prolixity, or that he was not himself\npresent when they happened. Nevertheless this book will agree with his\nhistory. Health and happiness.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n_How Charles the Great delivered Spain and Gallicia from the\nSaracens._\n\n\nThe most glorious Christian Apostle St. James, when the other Apostles\nand Disciples of our Lord were dispersed abroad throughout the whole\nworld, is believed to have first preached the gospel in Gallicia. After\nhis martyrdom, his servants, rescuing his body from King Herod, brought\nit by sea to Gallicia, where they likewise preached the gospel. But soon\nafter, the Gallicians, relapsing into great sins, returned to their\nformer idolatry, and persisted in it till the time of Charles the Great,\nEmperor of the Romans, French, Germans, and other nations. Charles\ntherefore, after prodigious toils in Saxony, France, Germany, Lorraine,\nBurgundy, Italy, Brittany, and other countries; after taking innumerable\ncities from sea to sea, which he won by his invincible arm from the\nSaracens, through divine favour; and after subjugating them with great\nfatigue of mind and body to the Christian yoke, resolved to rest from\nhis wars in peace.\n\nBut observing the starry way in the heavens, beginning at the Friezeland\nsea, and passing over the German territory and Italy, between Gaul and\nAquitaine, and from thence in a straight line over Gascony, Bearne, and\nNavarre, and through Spain to Gallicia, wherein till his time lay\nundiscovered the body of St. James; when night after night he was wont\nto contemplate it, meditating upon what it might signify, a certain\nbeautiful resplendent vision appeared to him in his sleep, and, calling\nhim son, inquired what he was attempting to discover. At which Charles\nreplied, \"Who art thou, Lord?\" \"I am,\" answered the vision, \"St. James\nthe Apostle, Christ's disciple, the son of Zebedee, and brother of John\nthe Evangelist, whom the Lord was pleased to think worthy, in his\nineffable goodness, to elect on the sea of Galilee to preach the gospel\nto his people, but whom Herod the King slew. My body now lies concealed\nin Gallicia, long so grievously oppressed by the Saracens, from whose\nyoke I am astonished that you, who have conquered so many lands and\ncities, have not yet delivered it. Wherefore I come to warn you, as God\nhas given you power above every other earthly prince, to prepare my way,\nand rescue my dominions from the Moabites, that so you may receive a\nbrighter crown of glory for your reward. The starry way in the heavens\nsignifies that you, with a great army, will enter Gallicia to fight the\nPagans, and, recovering it from them, will visit my church and shrine;\nand that all the people from the borders of the sea, treading in your\nsteps, will ask pardon of God for their sins, and return in safety,\ncelebrating his praise; that you likewise will acknowledge the wonders\nhe hath done for you in prolonging your life to its present span.\nProceed then as soon as you are ready; I am your friend and helper; your\nname shall become famous to all eternity, and a crown of glory shall be\nyour reward in heaven.\"\n\nThus did the blessed Apostle appear thrice to the Emperor, who,\nconfiding in his word, assembled a great army, and entered Spain to\nfight the infidels.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n_Of the Walls of Pampeluna, that fell of themselves._\n\n\nThe first city Charles besieged was Pampeluna; he invested it three\nmonths, but was not able to take it, through the invincible strength of\nthe walls. He then made this prayer to God: \"O Lord Jesus Christ, for\nwhose faith I am come hither to fight the Pagans; for thy glory's sake\ndeliver this city into my hands; and O blessed St. James, if thou didst\nindeed appear to me, help me to take it.\" And now God and St. James,\nhearkening to his petition, the walls utterly fell to the ground of\nthemselves; but Charles spared the lives of the Saracens that consented\nto be baptized; the rest he put to the edge of the sword. The report of\nthis miracle induced all their countrymen to surrender their cities, and\nconsent to pay tribute to the Emperor. Thus was the whole land soon\nsubdued.\n\nThe Saracens were amazed to see the French well clothed, accomplished in\ntheir manners and persons, and strictly faithful to their treaties; they\ngave them therefore a peaceful and honourable reception, dismissing all\nthoughts of war. The Emperor, after frequently visiting the shrine of\nSt. James, came to Ferrol, and, fixing his lance in the sea, returned\nthanks to God and the Apostle for having brought him to this place,\nthough he could then proceed no further.\n\nThe Pagan nations, after the first preaching of St. James and his\ndisciples, were converted by Archbishop Turpin, and by the grace of God\nbaptized; but those who refused to embrace the faith were either slain\nor made slaves by the Christians. Turpin then traversed all Spain from\nsea to sea.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n_Of the idol Mahomet._\n\n\nThe Emperor utterly destroyed the idols and images in Spain, except the\nidol in Andalusia, called Salamcadis. Cadis properly signifies the place\nof an island, but in Arabic it means God. The Saracens had a tradition\nthat the idol Mahomet, which they worshipped, was made by himself in\nhis lifetime; and that by the help of a legion of devils it was by magic\nart endued with such irresistible strength, that it could not be broken.\nIf any Christian approached it he was exposed to great danger; but when\nthe Saracens came to appease Mahomet, and make their supplications to\nhim, they returned in safety. The birds that chanced to light upon it\nwere immediately struck dead.\n\nThere is, moreover, on the margin of the sea an ancient stone excellently\nsculptured after the Saracenic fashion; broad and square at the bottom,\nbut tapering upward to the height that a crow generally flies, having on\nthe top an image of gold, admirably cast in the shape of a man, standing\nerect, with a certain great key in his hand, which the Saracens say was\nto fall to the ground immediately after the birth of a King of Gaul, who\nwould overrun all Spain with a Christian army, and totally subdue it.\nWherefore it was enjoined them, whenever that happened, to fly the\ncountry, and bury their jewels in the earth.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n_Of the Churches the King built._\n\n\nCharles remained three years in these parts, and with the gold given him\nby the kings and princes greatly enlarged the church of the blessed St.\nJames, appointing an Abbot and Canons of the order of St. Isidore,\nmartyr and confessor, to attend it: he enriched it likewise with bells,\nbooks, robes, and other gifts. With the residue of the immense quantity\nof gold and silver, he built many churches on his return from Spain;\nnamely, of the blessed Virgin in Aix-la-Chapelle, of St. James in\nThoulouse, and another in Gascony, between the city commonly called Aix,\nafter the model of St. John's at Cordova, in the Jacobine road; the\nchurch likewise of St. James at Paris, between the river Seine and\nMontmartre, besides founding innumerable abbeys in all parts of the\nworld.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n_Of the King's Return to France, and of Argolander, King of the Africans._\n\n\nAfter the King's return from Spain, a certain Pagan King, called\nArgolander, recovered the whole country with his army, driving the\nEmperor's soldiers from the towns and garrisons, which led him to march\nback his troops, under their General, Milo de Angleris.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n_Of the false Executor._\n\n\nBut the judgment inflicted on a false executor deserves to be recorded,\nas a warning to those who unjustly pervert the alms of the deceased.\nWhen the King's army lay at Bayonne, a certain soldier, called\nRomaricus, was taken grievously ill, and, being at the point of death,\nreceived the eucharist and absolution from a priest, bequeathing his\nhorse to a certain kinsman, in trust, to dispose of for the benefit of\nthe priest and the poor. But when he was dead his kinsman sold it for a\nhundred pence, and spent the money in debauchery. But how soon does\npunishment follow guilt! Thirty days had scarcely elapsed when the\napparition of the deceased appeared to him in his sleep, uttering these\nwords: \"How is it you have so unjustly misapplied the alms entrusted to\nyou for the redemption of my soul? Do you not know they would have\nprocured the pardon of my sins from God? I have been punished for your\nneglect thirty days in fire; to-morrow you shall be plunged in the same\nplace of torment, but I shall be received into Paradise.\" The apparition\nthen vanished, and his kinsman awoke in extreme terror.\n\nOn the morrow, as he was relating the story to his companions, and the\nwhole army was conversing about it, on a sudden a strange uncommon\nclamour, like the roaring of lions, wolves, and calves, was heard in the\nair, and immediately a troop of demons seized him in their talons, and\nbore him away alive. What further? Horse and foot sought him four days\ntogether in the adjacent mountains and valleys to no purpose; but the\ntwelfth day after, as the army was marching through a desert part of\nNavarre, his body was found lifeless, and dashed to pieces, on the\nsummit of some rocks, a league above the sea, about four days' journey\nfrom the city. There the demons left the body, bearing the soul away to\nhell. Let this be a warning, then, to all that follow his example to\ntheir eternal perdition.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n_Of the War of the Holy Facundus, where the Spears grew._\n\n\nCharles and Milo, his General, now marched after Argolander into Spain,\nand found him in the fields of the river, where a castle stands in the\nmeadows, in the best part of the whole plain, where afterwards a church\nwas built in honour of the blessed martyrs Facundus and Primitivus;\nwhere likewise their bodies rest, an abbey was founded, and a city\nbuilt. When the King's army advanced, Argolander wished to decide the\ncontest by set combat between twenties, forties, hundreds, thousands, or\neven by two champions only. Charles willingly consented, and marched a\nhundred of his soldiers against a hundred Saracens, when all of them\nwere slain. Argolander then sent two hundred, who shared the same fate.\nTwo thousand were then led against two thousand, part of whom were\nslain, and the rest fled. But on the third day Argolander cast lots,\nand, knowing that evil fortune threatened the Emperor, sent him word he\nwould draw out his whole army on the open plain, on the morrow, which\nchallenge was accepted.\n\nThen did this miracle happen. Certain of the Christians, who carefully\nhad been furbishing their arms against the day of battle, fixed their\nspears in the evening erect in the ground before the castle in the\nmeadow, near the river, and found them early in the morning covered with\nbark and branches. Those, therefore, that were about to receive the palm\nof martyrdom were greatly astonished at this event, ascribing it to\ndivine power. Then cutting off their spears close to the ground, the\nroots that remained shot out afresh, and became lofty trees, which may\nbe still seen flourishing there, chiefly ash. All this denoted joy to\nthe soul, but loss to the body; for now the battle commenced, and forty\nthousand Christians were slain, together with Milo, their General, the\nfather of Orlando. The King's horse was likewise slain under him; but\nCharles resolutely continued the fight on foot, and with two thousand\nChristians gallantly hewed his way through the Saracens, cleaving many\nof them asunder from the shoulders to the waist.\n\nThe following day both Christians and Saracens remained quietly in their\ncamps, but the day after four Marquisses brought four thousand fresh\ntroops from Italy to the King's assistance; whereupon Argolander\nretreated with his army to Leon, and Charles led back his forces to\nFrance.\n\nAnd here it is proper to observe we should strive for Christ's blessing;\nfor as the soldiers prepared their arms against the day of battle, so we\nin like manner should prepare ours, namely, our virtues to resist our\npassions. For he that would oppose faith to infidelity, brotherly love\nto hatred, charity to avarice, humility to pride, chastity to lust,\nprayer to temptation, perseverance to instability, peace to strife,\nobedience to a carnal disposition, must fortify his soul with grace, and\nprepare his spear to flourish against the day of judgment. Triumphant\nindeed will he be in heaven who conquers on earth! As the King's\nsoldiers died for their faith, so should we die to sin, and live in\nholiness in this world, that we may receive the palm of glory in the\nnext, which shall be the reward of those who fight manfully against\ntheir three grand adversaries, the World, the Flesh, and the Devil.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n_Of King Argolander's Army._\n\n\nArgolander now assembled together innumerable nations of Saracens,\nMoors, Moabites, Parthians, Africans, and Persians: Texephin, King of\nArabia; Urabell, King of Alexandria; Avitus, King of Bugia; Ospin, King\nof Algarve; Facin, King of Barbary; Ailis, King of Malclos; Manuo, King\nof Mecca; Ibrahim, King of Seville; and Almanzor, King of Cordova. Then,\nmarching to the city of Agen, he took it, and sent word to Charles he\nwould give him sixty horse-load of gold, silver, and jewels, if he would\nacknowledge his right to the sceptre. But Charles returned this answer,\n\"that he would acknowledge him no otherwise than by slaying him whenever\nit should be his chance to meet him in battle.\"\n\nThe Emperor had by this time approached within four miles of Agen, when,\nsecretly dismissing his army, he proceeded with only sixty soldiers to\nthe mountain near the city. There he left them, and changing his dress,\ncame with his shield reversed, after the custom of messengers in time of\nwar, accompanied by one soldier only to the city; and when the people\ninquired his business, he informed them he had brought a message from\nKing Charles to Argolander, whereupon he was admitted into his presence,\nand addressed him in these words: \"My King bids me say, you may expect\nto see him, provided you will come out with only sixty of your people to\nmeet him.\" Now Argolander little thought it was Charles himself to whom\nhe was speaking, who all the while took especial note of his person, and\nof the weakest parts of the walls of the city, as well as of the\nauxiliary kings that were then within it. Argolander then armed himself,\nand Charles rejoined his sixty soldiers, and soon after the two thousand\nthat at first accompanied him. But Argolander came out with seven\nthousand men, thinking to slay the Emperor, but was himself compelled to\nfly.\n\nThe King then recruited his army, and besieged the city for six months.\nOn the seventh his battering rams, wooden castles, and other engines,\nwere ready to storm it; but Argolander and the rest of the Kings made\ntheir escape in the night through the common sewers, and, passing up the\nGaronne, got clear off. Charles entered the city in triumph the next\nday, and slew ten thousand of the remaining Saracens.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n_Of the City of Xaintonge, where the Spears grew._\n\n\nArgolander now came to Xaintonge, at that time under the dominion of the\nSaracens; but Charles pursuing him, summoned him to restore the city,\nwhich Argolander refused, resolving first to fight, and that it should\nbe the conqueror's reward. But on the eve of battle, when the battering\nrams were ready to attack the castle in the meadows, called Taleburg,\nand that part of the city near the river Carenton, certain of the\nChristians fixed their spears in the ground before the castle, and on\nthe morrow found them covered with bark and branches. Those therefore\nthat were to receive the crown of martyrdom perished in the fight, after\nslaying a multitude of the Saracens, namely, about four thousand men.\nThe King's horse was likewise slain under him, but valiantly placing\nhimself at the head of his infantry, he slew so many of his enemies that\nthey were forced back into the city, which Charles invested on every\nside but the river, through which Argolander made his escape, with the\nloss of the Kings of Algarve and Bugia, and about four thousand of his\narmy.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n_Of Argolander's Flight, and of the King's Warriors._\n\n\nArgolander fled beyond the passes of the Pyrenees, and came to\nPampeluna, where he sent Charles word he would stay for him. Charles\nthen returned to France, and with the utmost diligence summoned his\ntroops from all parts to his assistance, proclaiming free pardon to all\nbanished persons, on condition they would join him against the Pagans.\nWhat further? He liberated all the prisoners; made the poor rich;\nclothed the naked; reconciled the disaffected; bestowed honours on the\ndisinherited; preferred the most experienced to the best commands;\nmaking friends of enemies, and associating both the civilized and the\nbarbarian in the war of Spain, uniting them through the favour of God in\nthe bond of love. Then did I, Turpin, absolve them from their sins, and\ngive them my benediction.\n\nThese are the names of the warriors that attended the King:--Turpin,\nArchbishop of Rheims, who by the precepts of Christ, and for his\nfaith's sake, brought the people to fight valiantly, fighting likewise\nhimself hand to hand with the Saracens. Orlando, General of the whole\narmy, Count of Mans and Lord of Guienne, the King's nephew, son of Milo\nde Angleris and Bertha the King's sister. His soldiers were four\nthousand. Another Orlando likewise, of whom we are silent. Oliver, a\nGeneral also, and a valiant soldier, renowned for strength and skill in\nwar, led three thousand troops. Aristagnus, King of Brittany, seven\nthousand. Another King of Brittany, of whom little mention is made.\nAngelerus, Duke of Aquitaine, brought four thousand valiant bowmen. At\nthis time likewise there was in the city of Poictiers another Duke of\nAquitaine, but Angelerus was the son of Gascon, Duke of the city of\nAquitaine, lying between Limorge, Bourges, and Poictiers, which city\nAugustus Caesar founded; and the rest of the cities, as well as Xaintonge\nand Angouleme, with their provinces, were subject to it; the whole\ncountry was also called Aquitaine. But after the death of its lord, who\nperished with all his people in the fatal battle of Ronceval, it was\nnever fresh colonized, and fell utterly to ruin.\n\nGayfere, King of Bordeaux, led three thousand warriors. Galerus, Galinus\nSolomon, Estolfo's friend and companion; Baldwin, Orlando's brother,\nGaldebode, King of Friezeland, led seven thousand heroes; Ocellus, Count\nof Nantes, two thousand, who achieved many memorable actions, celebrated\nin songs to this day. Lambert, Count of Berry, led two thousand men.\nRinaldo of the White Thorn, Vulterinus Garinus, Duke of Lorraine, four\nthousand. Hago, Albert of Burgundy, Berard de Miblis, Gumard, Esturinite,\nTheodoric, Juonius, Beringaire, Hato, and Ganalon, who afterwards proved\nthe traitor, attended the King into Spain. The army of the King's own\nterritory was forty thousand horse and foot innumerable.\n\nThese were all famous heroes and warriors, mighty in battle,\nillustrious in worldly honour, zealous soldiers of Christ, that spread\nhis name far and near, wherever they came. For even as our Lord and his\ntwelve Apostles subdued the world by their doctrine, so did Charles,\nKing of the French and Emperor of the Romans, recover Spain to the glory\nof God. And now the troops, assembling in Bordeaux, overspread the\ncountry for the space of two days' journey, and the noise they made was\nheard at twelve miles distance. Arnold of Berlanda first traversed the\npass of the Pyrenees, and came to Pampeluna. Then came Astolfo, followed\nby Aristagnus; Angelerus, Galdebode, Ogier the King, and Constantine,\nwith their several divisions. Charles and his troops brought up the\nrear, covering the whole land from the river of Rume to the mountains,\nthat lie three leagues beyond them on the Compostella road. They now\nhalted for eight days. In the interval Charles sent Argolander word, if\nhe would restore the city he had built, he would return home, or\notherwise wage cruel war against him: but Argolander, finding he could\nnot keep possession of the city, resolved to march out, rather than\ntamely perish in it. Charles then granted him a truce to draw out his\narmy and prepare for battle; expressing moreover his willingness to see\nhim face to face, as Argolander wished.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n_Of the Truce, and of the Discourse between the King and Argolander._\n\n\nA truce thus being granted, Argolander drew out his people from the\ncity, and attended by sixty guards came into the King's presence, who\nwas at this time encamped about a mile from Pampeluna. The two armies\noccupied a spacious plain six miles square, separated by the main road\nto Compostella.\n\nWhen Charles perceived Argolander, he addressed him in these words:\n\n\"You are, then, he that have fraudulently taken possession of my\nterritories in Spain and Gascony, which I conquered by the favour of\nGod, and reduced to the faith of Christ. You have perverted the princes\nfrom my allegiance, and slain the Christians with the edge of the sword.\nAvailing yourself of my return to Gaul, you have destroyed my towns and\ncastles, and laid waste the territory with fire and sword. At present,\ntherefore, you have the advantage of me.\"\n\nNow when Argolander heard the King speak in the Arabic tongue, he was\ngreatly pleased and astonished, for Charles had learnt it in his youth\nin the city of Thoulouse, where he had spent some time. Argolander then\nanswered in these terms: \"I wonder you should reason thus, for the\nterritory did not belong to you; neither was it your father's,\ngrandfather's, or great-grandfather's. Why then did you take possession\nof it?\" \"Because,\" replied Charles, \"our Lord Jesus Christ, the creator\nof heaven and earth, elected us in preference to others, and gave us\ndominion over all the earth: therefore I endeavoured to convert the\nSaracens to the Christian faith.\"--\"It would be unworthy of us to submit\nto you,\" rejoined Argolander, \"when our own faith is best. We have\nMahomet, a prophet of God, whose precepts we obey. Therefore we have a\npowerful God, who through his prophet has declared his will, and by him\nwe live and reign.\" \"O Argolander,\" said the King, \"how widely do you\nerr! You follow the vain precepts of a man; we believe and worship\nFather, Son, and Holy Ghost: you worship mortal man. After death our\nsouls are received into Paradise, and enjoy everlasting life, but yours\ndescend to the abyss of hell. Wherefore our faith is evidently best.\nAccept then baptism, or fight and perish.\"\n\n\"Far be it from me,\" said Argolander, \"to accept baptism, and deny\nMahomet and my God! But I will fight you on these terms: if your faith\nis best, you shall gain the victory, otherwise heaven shall give it to\nme; and let shame be the portion of the conquered, but eternal glory\nreward the conqueror. Furthermore, if my people are subdued, and I\nsurvive the contest, I will receive baptism.\"\n\nThese terms being mutually agreed, twenty Christians were sent against\ntwenty Saracens, and the battle commenced. What further? Nearly all the\nSaracens fell. Forty were then sent against forty, and they were\ndefeated also. A hundred then fought together; but the Saracens turned\ntheir backs from the face of the Christians, and were all slain. Are not\nthese Christians then types for us? Does it not argue that we likewise\nshould fight manfully against our sins; should face our spiritual\nenemies, and never ignobly yield to them, since they will infallibly\nlead us into perdition? He only, says the Apostle, shall receive the\ncrown that fights the good fight, and overcomes.\n\nTwo hundred Saracens were then sent out, and were all slain; lastly a\nthousand, who shared the same fate. A truce being then granted,\nArgolander promised to be baptized on the morrow with all his people,\nand, calling his Kings and Captains together, told them his intention,\nto which they likewise assented, few only refusing to follow his\nexample.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n_Of the King's Banquet, and of the Poor, at whom Argolander took so\ngreat Offence that he refused to be Baptized._\n\n\nOn the third day Argolander attended the King, as he promised, and found\nhim at dinner. Many tables were spread at which the guests were sitting;\nsome in military uniform; some in black; some in Priests' habits; which\nArgolander perceiving, inquired what they were? \"Those you see in robes\nof one colour,\" replied the King, \"are priests and bishops of our holy\nreligion, who expound the gospel to us, absolve us from our offences,\nand bestow heavenly benediction. Those in black are monks and abbots;\nall of them holy men, who implore incessantly the divine favour in our\nbehalf.\" But in the meantime Argolander espying thirty poor men in mean\nhabiliments, without either table or table-cloth, sitting and eating\ntheir scanty meals upon the ground, he inquired what they were? \"These,\"\nreplied the King, \"are people of God, the messengers of our Lord Jesus,\nwhom in his and his Apostles names we feed daily.\" Argolander then made\nthis reply: \"The guests at your table are happy; they have plenty of the\nbest food set before them; but those you call the messengers of God,\nwhom you feed in his name, are ill fed, and worse clothed, as if they\nwere of no estimation. Certainly he must serve God but indifferently who\ntreats his messengers in this manner, and thus do you prove your\nreligion false.\" Argolander then refused to be baptized, and, returning\nto his army, prepared for battle on the morrow.\n\nCharles, seeing the mischief his neglect of these poor men had occasioned,\nordered them to be decently clothed and better fed. Here then we may\nnote the Christian incurs great blame who neglects the poor. If Charles,\nfrom inattention to their comfort, thereby lost the opportunity of\nconverting the Saracens, what will be the lot of those who treat them\nstill worse? They will hear this sentence pronounced--\"Depart from me,\nye cursed, into everlasting fire; for I was an hungered, and ye gave me\nno meat; naked, and ye clothed me not.\"\n\nWe must consider likewise that our faith in Christ is of little value\nwithout good works. As the body, says the Apostle, without the soul is\ndead, so is faith dead if it produce not good fruit. And as the Pagan\nKing refused baptism because he found something wrong after it, so our\nLord, I fear, will refuse our baptism at the day of judgment if\nsuperfluity of faults be found in us.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n_Of the Battle of Pampeluna, and Argolander's Death._\n\n\nBoth armies now prepared for battle in the morning, contending for their\ndifferent faiths. The King mustered one hundred and thirty thousand\nmen, but Argolander only one hundred thousand. The Christians formed\nthemselves into four squadrons; the Saracens into five; whose first\ncorps being speedily discomfited, they all joined in one phalanx, with\nArgolander in the midst. The Christians then surrounded them on all\nsides. First Arnaldo de Berlanda and his troops; then Astolfo; next\nAristagnus, Galdebode, Ogier, and Constantine; lastly the King himself,\nand his innumerable warriors. Arnaldo was the first that broke in upon\nthe enemy, overthrowing them right and left till he reached Argolander\nhimself in the centre, and slew him with his own hand. Then ensued a\ngreat shout, and the Christians, rushing in upon the Saracens, slew them\non all sides, making so great a slaughter that none escaped but the\nKings of Seville and Cordova, and a few of their troops. So great,\nindeed, was the effusion of blood, that the Christians waded in it to\ntheir very knees. They slew likewise all the Saracens left in the city.\nCharles fought for the faith, and therefore triumphed over Argolander.\nNote then, O Christian, that whatsoever thou undertakest thou likewise\nshalt accomplish if thou hast faith, for all things are possible to them\nthat believe. Greatly rejoiced at this victory, the King marched\nforward, and came to the bridge of Arge in the Compostella road.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n_Of the Christians that returned unlawfully to Spoil the Dead._\n\n\nCertain of the Christians however, coveting the spoils of the dead,\nreturned that same night to the field of battle, and loaded themselves\nwith heaps of gold and silver. But as they were returning to the camp,\nAlmanzor, King of Cordova, who had fled for refuge to the mountains with\nthe Saracens that made their escape, came pouring down, and slew them\nall to the number of a thousand men. These, then, are types of such as\nstrive against sin, but afterwards relapse; who, when they have overcome,\ncontinue not stedfast, but seek unlawful pleasures, suffering themselves\nto be mastered in turn by their grand adversary. So likewise the religious,\nthat forsake their vocations to re-engage in worldly concerns and\nprofits, lose the reward of eternal life, and entail upon themselves\neverlasting perdition.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n_Of the War of Furra._\n\n\nThe day after the King was informed that a certain King of Navarre,\ncalled Furra, designed to fight him at Mount Garzim. Charles therefore\nprepared for battle; but desiring to know who should perish in it, he\nentreated the Lord to show him; whereupon in the morning a red cross\nappeared on their shoulders behind. In order therefore to preserve them,\nhe confined them in his Oratory. Then joining battle, Furra and three\nthousand of his troops were slain. These were all Saracens of Navarre.\nThe King now returned to his Oratory, but found them all dead that he\nhad left in it, to the number of one hundred and fifty men.\n\n\"O holy band of Christian warriors, though the sword slew you not, yet\ndid you not lose the palm of victory, or the prize of martyrdom!\"\nCharles then made himself master of the mountain and castle of Garzim,\nand subdued the whole country of Navarre.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\n_Of the War with Ferracute, and of Orlando's admirable Dispute with him._\n\n\nCharles now received news that a certain Giant, of the name of Ferracute,\nof the race of Goliath, was come to Nager, sent thither by Admiraldus,\nwith twenty thousand Turks of Babylon, to fight him. This Giant neither\nfeared spear nor dart, and was stronger than forty men. Charles\ntherefore marched to Nager, and Ferracute, hearing of his arrival,\nsallied out from the city to challenge any warrior to single combat.\n\nCharles then sent Ogier the Dacian, whom the Giant no sooner perceived,\nthan, leisurely approaching, he caught him up under his right arm, as\neasily as he would a lamb, and bore him off in sight of all his friends\nto the city; for the Giant's stature was twelve cubits; his face a cubit\nlong; his nose a palm; his arms and thighs four cubits; and his fingers\nthree palms in length.\n\nRinaldo of the White Thorn was next sent against him, but he seized him\nin like manner, and imprisoned him with Ogier. The King then sent\nConstantine and Ocellus, but, seizing one under each arm, he bore them\noff likewise. He then sent twenty warriors by pairs against him, but\nthey shared the same fate. Charles dared not then venture to send more\nwarriors: but Orlando with the King's permission approached the Giant,\nwho seized him instantly by the right arm, and seated him upon his steed\nbefore him.\n\nBut as he was bearing him to the city, Orlando, recovering his strength,\nand trusting in the Almighty, seized the Giant by the beard, and tumbled\nhim from his horse, so that both came to the ground together. Orlando,\nthen, thinking to slay the Giant, drew his sword, and struck at him, but\nthe blow fell upon his steed, and pierced him through. The Giant being\nthus on foot, drew his enormous sword, which Orlando perceiving, who had\nremounted his own charger, struck him on the sword arm, and, though he\ndid not wound him, struck the sword out of his hand; which greatly\nenraging Ferracute, he aimed a blow at Orlando with his fist, but,\nmissing him, hit his horse on the forehead, and laid him dead on the\nspot. And now the fight lasted till noon with fists and stones. The\nGiant then demanded a truce till next day, agreeing to meet Orlando\nwithout horse or spear. Each warrior then retired to his post.\n\nNext morning they accordingly met once more. The Giant brought a sword,\nbut Orlando a long staff to ward off the Giant's blows, who wearied\nhimself to no purpose. They now began to batter each other with stones,\nthat lay scattered about the field, till at last the Giant begged a\nsecond truce, which being granted, he presently fell fast asleep upon\nthe ground. Orlando, taking a stone for a pillow, quietly laid himself\ndown also. For such was the law of honour between the Christians and\nSaracens at that time, that no one on any pretence dared to take\nadvantage of his adversary before the truce was expired, as in that case\nhis own party would have slain him.\n\nWhen Ferracute awoke, he found Orlando awake also, who thereupon rose,\nand seated himself by the Giant's side, inquiring how it came to pass he\nwas so very strong? \"Because,\" replied the Giant, \"I am only vulnerable\nin the navel.\" Ferracute spoke in the Spanish language, which Orlando\nunderstanding tolerably well, a conversation now followed between them,\nwhich Ferracute recommenced by inquiring his name, which Orlando told\nhim. \"And what race are you of?\" said the Giant. \"Of the race of the\nFranks.\"--\"What law do you follow?\" \"The law of Christ, so far as his\ngrace permits me.\"--\"Who is this Christ in whom you profess to believe?\"\n\"The Son of God, born of a Virgin, who took upon him our nature, was\ncrucified for us, rose again from the dead, and ascended into heaven,\nwhere he sitteth on the right hand of his Father.\"\n\n\"We believe,\" said Ferracute, \"that the Creator of heaven and earth is\none God, and that, as he was not made himself, so cannot another God\nspring from him. There is therefore only one God, not three, as I\nunderstand you Christians profess.\" \"You say well,\" said Orlando; \"there\nis but one God, but your faith is imperfect; for as the Father is God,\nso likewise is the Son, and so is the Holy Ghost. Three persons, but one\nGod.\"--\"Nay,\" said Ferracute: \"if each of these three persons be God,\nthere must be three Gods.\"\n\n\"By no means,\" replied Orlando; \"he is both three and one. The three\npersons are co-eternal and co-equal. There is indeed distinction of\nperson, but unity of essence, and equality of majesty. Abraham saw\nthree, but worshipped one. Let us recur to natural things. When the harp\nsounds, there is the art, the strings, and the hand, yet but one harp.\nIn the almond there is the shell, the coat, and the kernel. In the sun,\nthe body, the beams, and the heat. In the wheel, the centre, the spokes,\nand the nave. In you, likewise, there is the body, the members, and the\nsoul. In like manner may Trinity in Unity be ascribed to God.\"\n\n\"I now comprehend,\" replied Ferracute, \"how God may be three in one, but\nI know not how he begot the Son.\" \"Do you,\" answered Orlando, \"believe\nthat God made Adam?\"--\"I do.\" \"Adam himself was not, then, born of any,\nand yet he begot sons. So God the Father is born of none, yet of his own\nineffable grace begot the Son from all eternity.\"--\"Your arguments,\"\nsaid the Giant, \"please me exceedingly, but still I am at a loss to\nknow how he that was God became man.\" \"The Creator of heaven and earth,\nwho made all things out of nothing, could certainly,\" said Orlando,\n\"engender his Son of a pure Virgin, by divine afflation.\"--\"There lies\nthe difficulty,\" returned Ferracute, \"how without human aid, as you\naffirm, he could spring from the womb.\" \"Surely,\" said Orlando, \"God,\nwho formed Adam from no seed, could form his Son in like manner; and as\nfrom God the Father he was without Mother, so from his Mother did he\nspring without an earthly Father.\"--\"It makes me blush,\" said the Giant,\n\"to think that a virgin should conceive without a man.\" \"He,\" answered\nOrlando, \"that causes the worm in the bean, and many species of birds,\nbeasts, and serpents, to engender without the help of the male, could\nprocure God and Man of a pure Virgin without the help of Man. For as his\npower enabled him to produce the first man from the ground, so could he\nproduce the second from a virgin.\"--\"I grant it,\" replied the Giant; \"he\nmight be born of a virgin; but if he was the Son of God, how could he\ndie, for God never dies?\" \"That indeed is true,\" said Orlando; \"as God,\nhe could not die; but when he took our nature upon him, and was made\nman, he became subject to death, for every man dies. As we believe his\nnativity, so may we likewise believe his passion and resurrection.\"\n\n\"And what is it we are to believe of his resurrection?\" inquired\nFerracute. \"That he died, and rose again the third day.\"--The Giant,\nhearing this, was greatly astonished, and exclaimed to Orlando, \"Why do\nyou talk so idly? It is impossible that a man, after he is once dead,\ncan return to life again.\" \"Not only did the Son of God rise from the\ndead,\" replied Orlando, \"but all the men that have died since the\ncreation of the world shall rise again, and appear before his tribunal,\nwhere they shall be rewarded everyone according to his deeds, whether\nthey be good or evil. That God, who makes the tree spring from the soil,\nand the grain of wheat to rot in the ground, that it may revive with\nfresh increase, can at the last day clothe the souls of men with their\nown bodies, and restore them to life. Take the mystic example of the\nlion, which on the third day revives his dead cubs with his breath by\nlicking them. What wonder, then, that God should after three days revive\nhis Son? Nor ought it to seem strange that, as the Son of God rose from\nthe dead, many others of the dead should rise even before his own\nresurrection. If Elijah and Elisha by the power of God could perform\nthis miracle, how much more easily could the Father restore the Son,\nwhom it was indeed impossible that Death could retain in his fetters.\nDeath fled at his sight, as he shall fly likewise at the sound of his\nvoice, when the whole phalanx of the dead shall rise again.\"--\"Enough,\"\nsaid Ferracute, \"I clearly perceive all this; but how could he ascend\ninto heaven?\" \"He that descended,\" answered Orlando, \"could easily\nascend. He that rose of himself could enter the skies in triumph. Does\nnot the wheel of the mill descend low, and return to its height again?\nDoes not the bird in the air ascend and descend? Can you not yourself\ncome down from a mountain, and return thither? Did not the sun yesterday\nrise in the east and set in the west, and yet rise again in the east\nto-day? To that place from whence the Son of God descended, did he\nlikewise ascend.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Ferracute, \"to end our arguments, I will fight you on these\nterms: If the faith you profess be the true faith, you shall conquer;\notherwise the victory shall be mine; and let the issue be eternal honour\nto the conqueror, but dishonour to the vanquished.\" \"Be it so!\" said\nOrlando: whereupon they immediately fell to blows. But the very first\nwhich the Giant aimed at him would have certainly been fatal, if Orlando\nhad not nimbly leaped aside, and caught it on his staff, which was\nhowever cut in twain. The Giant, seeing his advantage, then rushed in\nupon him, and both came to the ground together. Orlando then, finding it\nimpossible to escape, instantly implored the divine assistance, and,\nfeeling himself re-invigorated, sprung upon his feet, when, seizing\nthe Giant's sword, he thrust it into his navel, and made his escape.\nFerracute, finding himself mortally wounded, called aloud upon Mahomet;\nwhich the Saracens hearing, sallied from the city, and bore him off in\ntheir arms. Orlando returned safe to the camp; the Christians then\nboldly attacked the city, and carried it by storm. The Giant and his\npeople were slain, his castle taken, and all the Christian warriors\nliberated.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\n_The War of the Masks._\n\n\nSoon after the Emperor heard that Ibrahim, King of Seville, and Almanzor,\nwho escaped from the battle of Pampeluna, had gathered together at\nCordova a body of troops from seven[1] of the neighbouring cities of\nSeville. Thither then did the King pursue his march with six thousand\nmen, and found the Saracens, ten thousand strong, about three miles from\nthe city. The King formed his army into three divisions. The first\ncomposed of his best troops, all cavalry; the two last, foot. The\nSaracens formed theirs in a similar manner. But when the King in person\nadvanced against the first squadrons of Pagans, he found them all\ndisguised in bearded masks, with horns upon their heads, like demons,\nmaking so strange a din with their hands upon their drums and other\ninstruments, that the horses were terrified, and galloped back in spite\nof all their riders could do to prevent them. Whereupon the foot\nretreated likewise to an adjacent mountain, where, uniting in one\nsquadron, they stopped for the Saracens, who would then advance no\nfurther, but gave our people time to pitch their tents, and encamp that\nnight.\n\nCharles then called a council of his captains, and agreed to tie\nbandages over their horses' eyes, and to stuff their ears, in order to\ndisconcert this stratagem on the morrow. Admirable experiment! For now\nwe fought the enemy from morning till night, and slew a great number,\nthough it was by no means a general slaughter; for the Saracens, again\njoining in martial array, brought forward a castle, drawn by eight oxen,\nwith a certain red banner waving upon it, which so long as they saw\npresent, it was their rule never to fly. The King, knowing this, armed\nhimself with a strong breast-plate, a mighty spear, and invincible\nsword, and, aided by divine assistance, hewed his way through his\nenemies, overturning them to right and left, till he reached the car,\nwhen, cutting the flag-pole with his sword, the Saracens instantly fled\nin all directions. Prodigious shouts were made by both armies. We then\nslew eight thousand Moors, together with Ibrahim, King of Seville.\nAlmanzor made good his retreat into the city, but submitted to Charles\nthe day after, consenting to be baptized, and to do homage for his\ndominions.\n\nThe King now divided the conquered countries of Spain amongst his\nsoldiers. Navarre and Bearn he gave to the inhabitants of Brittany;\nCastile to the Franks; Nadres and Saragossa to the Apulians; Arragon to\nthe Ponthieuse; Andalusia, on the sea-coast, to the Germans; and\nPortugal to the Dacians and Flemings. But the French would not settle\nin the mountain parts of Gallicia. Thus there seemed to be no more foes\nin Spain to hurt the Emperor.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\n_Of the Council the Emperor summoned; and of his Journey to\nCompostella._\n\n\nCharles then sent away the greatest part of his troops, and came to\nGallicia, where he behaved very liberally to the Christians he found\nthere, but either put to death or banished those that had revolted to\nthe Moorish faith. He then appointed bishops and prelates in every city,\nand, assembling a council of the chief dignitaries in Compostella,\ndecreed that the church of St. James should be henceforth considered as\nthe Metropolitan, instead of Iria, as it was no city, subjecting Iria\nlikewise to Compostella. In the same council I, Turpin, Archbishop of\nRheims, together with forty other Bishops and Prelates, dedicated, by\nthe King's command, the church and altar of St. James, with extraordinary\nsplendour and magnificence. All Spain and Gallicia were made subject to\nthis holy place: it was moreover endowed with four pieces of money from\nevery house throughout the kingdom, and at the same time totally freed\nfrom the royal jurisdiction; being from that hour styled the Apostolic\nSee, as the body of the holy Apostle laid entombed within it. Here\nlikewise the general councils of Spain are held; the Bishops ordained,\nand the Kings crowned by the hand of the Metropolitan Bishop, to the\nApostle's honour. Here too, when any crying sin is committed, or\ninnovations made in the faith and precepts of our Lord, through the\nmeritoriousness of this venerable edifice the grievance is discovered,\nand atonement made. As the Eastern Apostolic See was established by St.\nJohn, the brother of St. James, at Ephesus, so was the Western\nestablished by St. James.\n\nAnd those Sees are undoubtedly the true Sees. Ephesus on the right hand\nof Christ's earthly kingdom, and Compostella on the left, both which\nfell to the share of the sons of Zebedee, according to their request.\nThere are, then, three Sees which are deservedly held pre-eminent, even\nas our Lord gave the pre-eminence to the three Apostles, Peter, James,\nand John, who first established them. And certainly these three places\nshould be deemed more sacred than others, where they preached, and\ntheir bodies lie enshrined. Rome claims the superiority from Peter,\nPrince of the Apostles. Compostella holds the second place from St.\nJames, the elder brother of St. John, and first inheritor of the crown of\nmartyrdom. He dignified it with his preaching, consecrated it with his\nsepulchre, and ceases not to exalt it by miracles and dispensations of\nmercy. The third See justly is Ephesus; for there St. John wrote his\ngospel, \"In the beginning was the Word,\" assembling there likewise the\nbishops of the neighbouring cities, whom he calls Angels in the\nApocalypse. He established that church by his doctrines and miracles,\nand there his body was entombed. If, therefore, any difficulty should\noccur that cannot elsewhere be resolved, let it be brought before these\nSees, and it shall, by divine grace, be decided. As Gallicia was freed\nin these early ages from the Saracen yoke, by the favour of God and St.\nJames, and by the King's valour, so may it continue firm in the orthodox\nfaith till the consummation of ages!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\n_Of the Emperor's Person and Courage._\n\n\nThe Emperor was of a ruddy complexion, with brown hair; of a well-made\nhandsome form, but a stern visage. His height was about eight of his own\nfeet, which were very long. He was of a strong robust make; his legs and\nthighs very stout, and his sinews firm. His face was thirteen inches\nlong; his beard a palm; his nose half a palm; his forehead a foot over.\nHis lion-like eyes flashed fire like carbuncles; his eyebrows were half\na palm over. When he was angry, it was a terror to look upon him. He\nrequired eight spans for his girdle, besides what hung loose. He ate\nsparingly of bread; but a whole quarter of lamb, two fowls, a goose, or\na large portion of pork; a peacock, crane, or a whole hare. He drank\nmoderately of wine and water. He was so strong, that he could at a\nsingle blow cleave asunder an armed soldier on horseback from the head\nto the waist, and the horse likewise. He easily vaulted over four horses\nharnessed together; and could raise an armed man from the ground to his\nhead, as he stood erect upon his hand.\n\nHe was liberal, just in his decrees, and fluent of speech. Four days in\nthe year, especially during his residence in Spain, he held a solemn\nassembly at court, adorning himself with his royal crown and sceptre;\nnamely, on Christmas-day, at Easter, Whitsuntide, and on the festival of\nSt. James. A naked sword, after the imperial fashion, was then borne\nbefore him. A hundred and twenty orthodox soldiers matched nightly round\nhis couch, in three courses of forty each. A drawn sword was laid at his\nright hand, and a lighted candle at his left. Although many would\ndelight to read his great actions, they would be too tedious to relate.\nHow he invested Galifer, Admiral of Coleto, where he was banished, with\nthe military order, and, in return for his kindness, slew Bramantes,\nhis enemy, the proud Saracen King; how many kingdoms and countries\nhe conquered; Abbeys he founded; bodies of the saints and relics he\nenshrined in gold; how he was made Emperor of Rome, and visited the holy\nsupulchre, bringing back with him the wood of the Holy Cross, wherewith\nhe endowed the shrine of St. James; of all this I shall say no more: the\nhand and the pen would sooner fail than the history. But what befel his\narmy at his return to France, we now briefly proceed to tell.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\n_Of the Treachery of Ganalon; the Battle of Ronceval, and the Sufferings\nof the Christian Warriors._\n\n\nWhen this famous Emperor had thus recovered Spain to the glory of our\nLord and St. James, after a season he returned to Pampeluna, and\nencamped there, with his army. At that time there were in Saragossa two\nSaracen Kings, Marsir, and Beligard, his brother, sent by the Soldan of\nBabylon from Persia to Spain. Charles had bowed them to his dominion,\nand they served him always, but only with feigned fidelity. For the King\nhaving sent Ganalon to require them to be baptized, and to pay tribute,\nthey sent him thirty horse-load of gold, silver, and jewels; forty load\nof wine likewise for his soldiers, and a thousand beautiful Saracen\nwomen. But at the same time they covenanted with Ganalon to betray the\nKing's army into their hands for twenty horse-load of gold and silver;\nwhich wicked compact being accordingly made, Ganalon returned to the\nKing with intelligence that Marsir would embrace the Christian faith,\nand was preparing to follow him into France to receive baptism there,\nand would then hold all Spain under oath of fealty to him. The old\nsoldiers would accept the wine only, but the young men were highly\ngratified with the present of the women.\n\nCharles, confiding in Ganalon, now began his march through the pass of\nthe mountains, in his return to France; giving the command of the rear\nto his nephew, Orlando, Count of Mans and Lord of Guienne, and to\nOliver, Count of Auvergne, ordering them to keep the station of Ronceval\nwith thirty thousand men, whilst he passed it with the rest of the army.\nBut many, who had on the night preceding intoxicated themselves with\nwine, and been guilty of fornication with the Saracen women, and other\nwomen that followed the camp from France, incurred the penalty of death.\nWhat more shall we say? When Charles had safely passed the narrow strait\nthat leads into Gascony, between the mountains, with twenty thousand of\nhis warriors, Turpin, the Archbishop, and Ganalon, and while the rear\nkept guard, early in the morning Marsir and Beligard, rushing down from\nthe hills, where, by Ganalon's advice, they had lain two days in ambush,\nformed their troops into two great divisions, and with the first of\ntwenty thousand men attacked our army, which making a bold resistance,\nfought from morning to the third hour, and utterly destroyed the enemy.\nBut a fresh body of thirty thousand Saracens now poured furiously down\nupon the Christians, already faint and exhausted with fighting so long,\nand smote them from high to low, so that scarcely one escaped. Some were\ntranspierced with lances; some killed with clubs; others beheaded,\nburnt, flayed alive, or suspended on trees: only Orlando, Baldwin, and\nTheodoric, were left; the two last gained the woods, and finally\nescaped. After this terrible slaughter the Saracens retreated a league\nfrom the field of battle.\n\nAnd here it may be asked, why God permitted those to perish who in no\nwise had defiled themselves with women? It was, indeed, to prevent them\nfrom committing fresh sins at their return home and to give them a\ncrown of glory in reward for their toils. However neither is it to be\ndoubted but those who were guilty of this fault amply atoned for it by\ntheir death. In that awful hour they confessed his name, bewailing their\nsins, and the all-merciful God forgot not their past labours for the\nsake of Christ, for whose faith they lost their lives. The company of\nwomen is evidently baneful to the warrior: those earthly Princes Darius\nand Mark Antony were attended by their women, and perished; for lust at\nonce enervates the soul and the body.\n\nThose who fell into intoxication and lasciviousness typify the priests\nthat war against vice, but suffer themselves to be overcome by wine and\nsensual appetites till they are slain by their enemy the devil, and\npunished with eternal death.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\n_Of the Death of Marsir, and the Flight of Beligard._\n\n\nAs Orlando was returning after the battle was over to view the Saracen\narmy, he met a certain black Saracen, who had fled from the field, and\nconcealed himself in the woods, whom he seized and bound to a tree with\nfour bands. Then, ascending a lofty hill, he surveyed the Moorish army,\nand seeing likewise many Christians retreating by the Ronceval road he\nblew his horn, and was joined by about a hundred of them, with whom he\nreturned to the Saracen, and promised to give him his life if he would\nshow him Marsir; which having performed, he set him at liberty.\nAnimating his little band, Orlando was soon amidst the thickest of the\nenemy, and finding one of larger stature than the rest, he hewed him and\nhis horse in twain, so that the halves fell different ways. Marsir and\nhis companions then fled in all directions, but Orlando, trusting in the\ndivine aid, rushed forward, and overcoming all opposition, slew Marsir\non the spot. By this time every one of the Christians was slain, and\nOrlando himself sorely wounded in five places by lances, and grievously\nbattered likewise with stones. Beligard, seeing Marsir had fallen,\nretired from the field with the rest of the Saracens; whilst Theodoric\nand Baldwin, and some few other Christians, made their way through the\npass, towards which Orlando, wandering, came likewise to the foot of it,\nand, alighting from his steed, stretched himself on the ground, beneath\na tree, near a block of marble, that stood upright in the meadows of\nRonceval.\n\nHere drawing his sword, Durendal, which signifies a hard blow, a sword\nof exquisite workmanship, fine temper, and resplendent brightness, which\nhe would sooner have lost his arm than parted with, as he held it in his\nhand, regarding it earnestly, addressed it in these words: \"O sword of\nunparalleled brightness, excellent dimensions, admirable temper, and\nhilt of the whitest ivory, decorated with a splendid cross of gold,\ntopped by a berylline apple, engraved with the sacred name of God,\nendued with keenness and every other virtue, who now shall wield thee in\nbattle? who shall call thee master? He that possessed thee was never\nconquered, never daunted at the foe; phantoms never appalled him. Aided\nby Omnipotence, with thee did he destroy the Saracen, exalt the faith of\nChrist, and acquire consummate glory. Oft hast thou vindicated the blood\nof Jesus, against Pagans, Jews, and heretics; oft hewed off the hand and\nfoot of the robber, fulfilling divine justice. O happy sword, keenest of\nthe keen; never was one like thee! He that made thee, made not thy\nfellow! Not one escaped with life from thy stroke! If the slothful timid\nsoldier should now possess thee, or the base Saracen, my grief would be\nunspeakable! Thus, then, do I prevent thy falling into their hands.\"--He\nthen struck the block of marble thrice, which cleft it in the midst, and\nbroke the sword in twain.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\n_Of the Sound of Orlando's Horn; of his Confession, and Death._\n\n\nHe now blew a loud blast with his horn, to summon any Christian\nconcealed in the adjacent woods to his assistance, or to recal his\nfriends beyond the pass. This horn was endued with such power, that all\nother horns were split by its sound; and it is said that Orlando at that\ntime blew it with such vehemence, that he burst the veins and nerves of\nhis neck. The sound reached the King's ears, who lay encamped in the\nvalley still called by his name, about eight miles from Ronceval,\ntowards Gascony, being carried so far by supernatural power. Charles\nwould have flown to his succour, but was prevented by Ganalon, who,\nconscious of Orlando's sufferings, insinuated it was usual with him to\nsound his horn on light occasions. \"He is, perhaps,\" said he, \"pursuing\nsome wild beast, and the sound echoes through the woods; it will be\nfruitless, therefore, to seek him.\" O wicked traitor, deceitful as\nJudas! What dost thou merit?\n\nOrlando now grew very thirsty, and cried for water to Baldwin, who just\nthen approached him; but unable to find any, and seeing him so near his\nend, he blessed him, and, again mounting his steed, galloped off for\nassistance to the army. Immediately after Theodoric came up, and,\nbitterly grieving to see him in this condition, bade him strengthen his\nsoul by confessing his faith. Orlando had that morning received the\nblessed Eucharist, and confessed his sins before he went to battle, this\nbeing the custom with all the warriors at that time, for which purpose\nbishops and monks attended the army to give them absolution. The martyr\nof Christ then cast up his eyes to heaven, and cried, \"O Lord Jesus, for\nwhose sake I came into these barbarous regions; through thy aid only\nhave I conquered innumerable Pagans, enduring blows and wounds,\nreproach, derision, and fatigue, heat and cold, hunger and thirst. To\nthee do I commit my soul in this trying hour. Thou, who didst suffer on\nthe cross for those who deserved not thy favour, deliver my soul, I\nbeseech thee, from eternal death! I confess myself a most grievous\nsinner, but thou mercifully dost forgive our sins; thou pitiest every\none, and hatest nothing which thou hast made, covering the sins of the\npenitent in whatsoever day they turn unto thee with true contrition. O\nthou, who didst spare thy enemies, and the woman taken in adultery; who\ndidst pardon Mary Magdalen, and look with compassion on the weeping\nPeter; who didst likewise open the gate of Paradise to the thief that\nconfessed thee upon the cross; have mercy upon me, and receive my soul\ninto thy everlasting rest!\n\n\"Thou art he who preventest our bodies from perishing in the grave,\nchanging them to greater glory; thou, O Lord, art he, who hast said,\n'thou rather wouldst the sinner should live than die.' I believe in thee\nwith my whole heart, and confess thee with my lips; therefore I beseech\nthee to receive me into the enjoyment of a better life when this is\nended. Let my sense and intellects be in the same measure improved as\nthe shadow differs from the substance.\" And now, grasping the flesh and\nskin near his heart (as Theodoric afterwards related), he continued his\nspeech with bitter groanings. \"O Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, and of\nthe blessed Virgin, with my inmost soul do I confess that thou, my\nRedeemer, dost live, and that at the day of judgment I shall rise, and\nin my flesh behold thee, my God and my Saviour!\" And thrice, thus\ngrasping his breast, did he repeat those words; and, laying his hand\nupon his eyes in like manner, he said, \"And these eyes shall behold\nthee!\" Uncovering them, he again looked up to heaven, and, signing\nhimself with the sign of the cross, he uttered, \"All earthly things are\nvain and unprofitable; I am now taught of Christ, that eye hath not\nseen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to\nconceive, the good things that God hath prepared for them that love\nhim.\" Then, stretching his hands to heaven, he uttered this prayer for\nthem that perished in the battle:--\n\n\"Let thy bowels of compassion, O Lord, be open to thy faithful servants,\nwho have this day perished by the hand of the barbarians. Hither did\nthey come to vindicate thy faith; for thy sake are they fallen. Do thou,\nO Lord, mercifully blot out their offences, accounting them worthy to\nbe delivered from the pains of hell. Send thy archangels to rescue\ntheir souls from darkness, and bear them to the regions of light, where\nthy blessed martyrs eternally live and reign with thee, who dost live\nand reign with God the Father and the Holy Spirit, to all ages.\nAmen!\"--Immediately after this confession and prayer, his soul winged\nits flight from his body, and was borne by angels to Paradise, where he\nreigns in transcendent glory, united by his meritorious deeds to the\nblessed choir of martyrs.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\n_Of Orlando's Rank and Virtue._\n\n\n No longer it becomes the heart to mourn\n   A hero of immortal joys possessed;\n Of noble rank, and noble parents born,\n   For nobler deeds in heaven with glory blest.\n\n To none inferior, thine was native worth;\n   Thy feet still tending to the temple's bounds;\n A glorious model to the wondering earth,\n   A faithful balsam to thy country's wounds.\n\n The Clergy's refuge, and the Widow's friend,\n   Bounteous to guests, and liberal to the poor;\n To heaven thy parting steps may safely bend,\n   Whose works have opened wide salvation's door.\n\n Thy tongue the fount of heavenly eloquence,\n   That still would slake the thirst, and never pall,\n Endowed with graceful wit, and manly sense,\n   Proclaimed thee common father, friend of all.\n\n Blest Chief, farewell! but not the marbled urn\n   That holds thy ashes can thy soul contain:\n Our wondering eyes to heaven above we turn,\n   Where thou for ever dost triumphant reign.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\n\n_Archbishop Turpin's Vision, and the King's Lamentation for Orlando._\n\n\nWhat more shall we say? Whilst the soul of the blessed Orlando was\nleaving his body, I, Turpin, standing near the King in the valley of\nCharles, at the moment I was celebrating the mass of the dead, namely,\non the 16th day of June, fell into a trance, and, hearing the angelic\nchoir sing aloud, I wondered what it might be. Now, when they had\nascended on high, behold, there came after them a phalanx of terrible\nones, like warriors returning from the spoil, bearing their prey.\nPresently I inquired of one of them what it meant, and was answered, \"We\nare bearing the soul of Marsir to hell, but yonder is Michael bearing\nthe Horn-winder to heaven.\" When mass was over, I told the King what I\nhad seen; and whilst I was yet speaking, behold Baldwin rode up on\nOrlando's horse, and related what had befallen him, and where he had\nleft the hero in the agonies of death, beside a stone in the meadows at\nthe foot of the mountain; whereupon the whole army immediately marched\nback to Ronceval.\n\nThe King himself first discovered the hero, lying in the form of a\ncross, and began to lament over him with bitter sighs and sobs, wringing\nhis hands, and tearing his hair and beard. \"O right arm,\" cried he, \"of\nthy Sovereign's body; honour of the French; sword of justice, inflexible\nspear, inviolable breast-plate, shield of safety; a Judas Maccabeus in\nprobity, a Samson in strength; in death like Saul and Jonathan; brave,\nexperienced soldier, great and noble defender of the Christians, scourge\nof the Saracens; a wall to the clergy, the widow's and orphan's friend,\njust and faithful in judgment!--Renowned Count of the French, valiant\ncaptain of our armies, why did I leave thee here to perish? How can I\nbehold thee dead, and not die myself? Why hast thou left me sorrowful\nand alone? A poor miserable King! But thou art exalted to the kingdom of\nheaven, and dost enjoy the company of angels and martyrs. Without cease\nI shall lament over thee, as David did over Saul and Jonathan, and his\nson Absalom.\n\n  Thy soul is fled to happier scenes above,\n    And left us mourning to lament thee here;\n  Blest in thy God and Saviour's fav'ring love,\n    Who wipes from every eye the trickling tear.\n\n  Six lustres and eight years thou dwelledst below,\n    But snatched from earth to heaven, thou reign'st on high,\n  Where feasts divine immortal spirits know,\n    And joys transcendent fill the starry sky.\"\n\nThus did Charles mourn for Orlando to the very last day of his life. On\nthe spot where he died he encamped; and caused the body to be embalmed\nwith balsam, myrrh, and aloes. The whole camp watched it that night,\nhonouring his corse with hymns and songs, and innumerable torches and\nfires kindled on the adjacent mountains.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI.\n\n_How the Sun stood still for three Days; the Slaughter of four thousand\nSaracens; and the Death of Ganalon._\n\n\nEarly on the next day they came to the field of battle in Ronceval, and\nfound the bodies of their friends, many of them still alive, but\nmortally wounded. Oliver was lying on his face, pinioned to the ground\nin the form of a cross, and flayed from the neck to his finger-ends;\npierced also with darts and javelins, and bruised with clubs. The\nmourning was now dismal; every one wept for his friend, till the groves\nand valleys resounded with wailing. Charles solemnly vowed to pursue the\nPagans till he found them; and, marching in pursuit with his whole army,\nthe sun stood still for three days, till he overtook them on the banks\nof the Ebro, near Saragossa, feasting and rejoicing for their success.\nAttacking them valiantly, he then slew four thousand, and dispersed the\nrest. What further? We now returned to Ronceval, bearing with us the\nsick and wounded to the spot where Orlando fell. The Emperor then made\nstrict inquiries after the treachery of Ganalon, which began to be\nuniversally rumoured about. Trial was ordained by single combat, Pinabel\nfor Ganalon, and Theodoric for the Accuser; when, the latter gaining the\nvictory, the treason was proved. Ganalon was now sentenced to be torn to\npieces by four wild horses, which was accordingly his end.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII.\n\n_The Embalming of the Dead._\n\n\nThey now embalmed the dead bodies of their friends; some with myrrh and\nbalsam, some with salt, taking out the bowels, and filling the bodies\nwith aromatic drugs, or with salt only. Some were buried on the spot;\nothers conveyed to France; but many that became putrid and offensive\nwere buried on the road. Wooden carriages were made for the dead, but\nthe sick and wounded were borne away on litters upon their shoulders.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\n\n_Of the consecrated Cemeteries of Arles and Bordeaux._\n\n\nTwo chief burying grounds were now consecrated at Arles and Bordeaux by\nseven Bishops: Maximin of Aix, Trophimus of Arles, Paul of Narbonne,\nSaturnine of Thoulouse, Frontorne of Perigord, Martial of Limoges, and\nEutropius of Xaintonge; where the major part of the warriors were\ninterred that fell in the battles of Ronceval and Mount Garzim.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX.\n\n_Of the Burial of Orlando and his Companions at Blaye and other Places._\n\n\nCharles deferred the burial of Orlando till he came to Blaye. His body\nwas laid upon gold tapestry on two mules, covered with a pall, and at\nlength honourably interred in the Church of St. Roman, which he had\nformerly built, and endowed with regular canons. His helmet was placed\nupon his head, and his ivory horn at his feet. But the body was\nafterwards translated to St. Severin in Bordeaux, the chief city of\nthese provinces, where it was joyfully welcomed, as it had liberally\ntasted his munificence.\n\nAt Blaye likewise was buried Oliver, and Galdebode, King of Friezeland;\nOgier, King of Dacia; Aristagnus, King of Brittany; Garin, Duke of\nLorraine; and many other warriors. Happy town, graced with the sepulchres\nof so many heroes! At Bordeaux, in the cemetery of St. Severin, were\nburied Gayfere, King of Bordeaux; Angelerus, Duke of Aquitaine; Lambert,\nPrince of Bourges; Galerius Galin; Rinaldo of the White Thorn; Walter\nof the Olive Trees; Vulterinus, and five thousand of their soldiers.\nOcellus, Count of Nantes, and most of the inhabitants of Brittany, were\nburied in that city. Charles gave twelve thousand pieces of silver and\ntalents of gold for the repose of their souls, and fed the poor for many\nmiles round the city of Blaye; endowing the church likewise with rich\nvestments and silver ornaments, for the love he bore Orlando; freeing\nthe Canons from all service but prayers for him and his companions. He\nmoreover clothed and entertained thirty poor men on the anniversary of\ntheir martyrdom, establishing Minstrels, Masses, and other solemnities,\nwhich the Canons were not to neglect on that day, as they hoped to merit\na crown of glory, which they promised to perform.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX.\n\n_Of those Buried at Arles._\n\n\nAfter this the King and his army proceeded by the way of Gascony and\nThoulouse, and came to Arles, where we found the army of Burgundy,\nwhich had left us in the hostile valley, bringing their dead by the way\nof Morbihan and Thoulouse, to bury them in the plain of Arles. Here we\nperformed the rites of Estolfo, Count of Champagne; of Solomon; Sampson,\nDuke of Burgundy; Arnold of Berlanda; Alberic of Burgundy; Gumard,\nEsturinite, Hato, Juonius, Berard, Berengaire, and Naaman, Duke of\nBourbon, and of ten thousand of their soldiers. Constantine, Governor of\nRome, and other Romans, were conveyed thither by sea, and buried in\nApulia. The King gave twelve thousand pieces of silver, and as many\ntalents of gold, for the repose of their souls, and to the poor of\nArles.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI.\n\n_Of the Council held at St. Denis._\n\n\nWe then came to Vienne, where I remained to be healed of the scars and\nwounds I received in Spain. The King, much fatigued, at length arrived\nat Paris; and, assembling a council of his chief princes and bishops at\nSt. Denis, returned thanks to God for his victory over the Pagans, and\ngave all France as a manor to that church, in the same way as St. Paul\nand St. Clement had formerly endowed the bishopric of Rome. The French\nBishops were likewise to be ordained there, and not made subject to the\nSee of Rome. Then, standing by the tomb of St. Denis, he entreated the\nLord for all who had died in his cause.\n\nThe very next night St. Denis appeared to the King in his sleep,\nassuring him that full pardon of sin was granted to all that followed\nhim, and had fought and perished in the wars with the Saracens; that\nthey likewise should recover of their wounds who had bestowed money on\nthe church; which being made known by the King, very liberal offerings\nwere made by the people, who thus acquired the name of Franks; and the\nwhole land, formerly called Gaul, was now changed to France, as being\nfreed from all servitude, and having dominion over other nations. The\nKing then went to Aix-la-Chapelle, in the county of Liege, to bathe and\ndrink the waters, where he liberally endowed St. Mary's Church with gold\nand silver, ordering it to be painted with ancient and modern histories,\nand his palace to be decorated with the representation of his wars in\nSpain; with emblems of the seven liberal arts and other excellent\nembellishments.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII.\n\n_Of the King's Death._\n\n\nSoon after, the King's approaching death was revealed to me; for,\nbehold, as I was praying in the church of Vienne, I fell into a trance,\nas I was singing psalms, and saw innumerable companies of soldiers pass\nbefore me by the Lorraine road. A certain one, black as an Ethiop,\nfollowed them, of whom I inquired whither he was going, and received for\nanswer that he was awaiting the death of Charles to take possession of\nhis soul. \"I conjure you, then,\" said I, \"by the name of the Lord Jesus,\nto return when you have completed your errand.\" When I had rested some\ntime, and begun to explain the psalms, behold they returned back, and,\nspeaking to the same person I before addressed, I inquired whom he had\nbeen seeking, and was answered, \"the Gallician;\" but the stones and\ntimber of the churches he founded balanced so greatly in his favour,\nthat his good works outweighed his bad, and his soul was snatched from\nus, and at this the demon vanished. Thus I understood Charles died that\nday, and was carried into the bosom of God and St. James. But as I had\nrequested him, before we parted at Vienne, to send me notice of his\ndecease in case it preceded mine, being then grievously sick, and\nremembering his promise, he encharged a certain learned soldier to bring\nme word the moment he died. What more need I add? The messenger arrived\non the fifteenth day after it happened. He had, indeed, been grievously\nafflicted with illness from the hour he left Spain, and suffered still\nmore in mind than in body for the friends he lost on the unfortunate\n16th of June. On the same day that I saw the vision, namely, on the 5th\nof February, in the year of our Lord 814, he departed this life, and was\nsumptuously buried in the round church of St. Mary, which he had himself\nbuilt; and this sign I was credibly informed happened yearly for three\nyears together before his death,--\"The Sun and Moon became dark, and\nhis name, Charles the Prince, inscribed on the church, was totally\nobliterated of itself; and the portico likewise, between the church and\nthe palace, fell to the very foundation.\" The wooden bridge also which\nhe built six years before over the Rhine at Mentz was destroyed by fire,\nself-kindled. And the same day, as a traveller was on his journey, he\nsaw a great flame, like the flame of a funeral pile, pass from right to\nleft before him; which terrifying him greatly, he fell from his horse,\nbut was presently relieved by his friends.\n\nWe therefore believe that he now enjoys the crown of the blessed\nmartyrs, whose labours he imitated, whose pattern and example he\nfollowed. Whereby we may understand, that whoever builds a church to\nGod's glory, provides for himself a residence in his kingdom. For this\ncause was Charles snatched from the hands of demons, and borne by good\nangels to heavenly habitations.\n\n\n\n\nBALLAD ROMANCE\nTOUCHING\nTHE DAYS OF CHARLEMAGNE\nAND OF\nTHE CID CAMPEADOR\nWITH THE BALLAD OF COUNT ALARCOS\n\n_FROM THE SPANISH BALLADS TRANSLATED BY_\nJOHN GIBSON LOCKHART.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n PART I.\n\n\n THE MOOR CALAYNOS                            57\n THE ESCAPE OF GAYFEROS                       61\n MELISENDRA                                   63\n THE MARCH OF BERNARDO DEL CARPIO             67\n LADY ALDA'S DREAM                            69\n THE ADMIRAL GUARINOS                         71\n THE COMPLAINT OF THE COUNT OF SALDENHA       75\n THE FUNERAL OF THE COUNT OF SALDENHA         76\n BERNARDO AND ALPHONSO                        78\n\n\n PART II.\n\n THE YOUNG CID                                81\n XIMENA DEMANDS VENGEANCE                     83\n THE CID AND THE FIVE MOORISH KINGS           84\n THE CID'S COURTSHIP                          85\n THE CID'S WEDDING                            87\n THE CID AND THE LEPER                        88\n BAVIECA                                      90\n THE EXCOMMUNICATION OF THE CID               92\n\n\n PART III.\n\n COUNT ALARCOS AND THE INFANTA SOLIS          94\n\n\n\n\nPART I.\n\nTHE MOOR CALAYNOS.\n\n\nIn the following version I have taken liberty to omit a good many of the\nintroductory stanzas of the famous _Coplas de Calainos_. The reader will\nremember that this ballad is alluded to in Don Quixote, where the\nKnight's nocturnal visit to Toboso is described.\n\nIt is generally believed to be among the most ancient, and certainly was\namong the most popular, of all the ballads in the Cancionero.\n\n\nI.\n\"I had six Moorish nurses, but the seventh was not a Moor,\nThe Moors they gave me milk enow, but the Christian gave me lore;\nAnd she told me ne'er to listen, though sweet the words might be,\nTill he that spake had proved his troth, and pledged a gallant fee.\"--\n\n\nII.\n\"Fair damsel,\" quoth Calaynos, \"if thou wilt go with me,\nSay what may win thy favour, and thine that gift shall be.\nFair stands the castle on the rock, the city in the vale,\nAnd bonny is the red red gold, and rich the silver pale.\"--\n\n\nIII.\n\"Fair sir,\" quoth she, \"virginity I never will lay down\nFor gold, nor yet for silver, for castle, nor for town;\nBut I will be your leman for the heads of certain peers--\nAnd I ask but three--Rinaldo's--Roland's--and Olivier's.\"--\n\n\nIV.\nHe kissed her hand where she did stand, he kissed her lips also,\nAnd \"Bring forth,\" he cries, \"my pennon, for to Paris I must go.\"--\nI wot ye saw them rearing his banner broad right soon,\nWhereon revealed his bloody field its pale and crescent moon.\n\n\nV.\nThat broad bannere the Moore did rear, ere many days were gone,\nIn foul disdain of Charlemagne, by the church of good Saint John;\nIn the midst of merry Paris, on the bonny banks of Seine,\nShall never scornful Paynim that pennon rear again.\n\n\nVI.\nHis banner he hath planted high, and loud his trumpet blown,\nThat all the twelve might hear it well around King Charles's throne;\nThe note he blew right well they knew; both Paladin and Peer\nHad the trumpet heard of that stern lord in many a fierce career.\n\n\nVII.\nIt chanced the King, that fair morning, to the chace had made him bowne,\nWith many a knight of warlike might, and prince of high renown;\nSir Reynold of Montalban, and Claros' Lord, Gaston,\nBehind him rode, and Bertram good, that reverend old Baron.\n\n\nVIII.\nBlack D'Ardennes' eye of mastery in that proud troop was seen,\nAnd there was Urgel's giant force, and Guarinos' princely mien;\nGallant and gay upon that day was Baldwin's youthful cheer,\nBut first did ride, by Charles's side, Roland and Olivier.\n\n\nIX.\nNow in a ring around the King, not far in the greenwood,\nAwaiting all the huntsman's call, it chanced the nobles stood;\n\"Now list, mine earls, now list!\" quoth Charles, \"yon breeze\n                                               will come again,\nSome trumpet-note methinks doth float from the bonny banks of Seine.\"--\n\n\nX.\nHe scarce had heard the trumpet, the word he scarce had said,\nWhen among the trees he near him sees a dark and turbaned head;\n\"Now stand, now stand at my command, bold Moor,\" quoth Charlemagne,\n\"That turban green, how dare it be seen among the woods of Seine.\"--\n\n\nXI.\n\"My turban green must needs be seen among the woods of Seine,\"\nThe Moor replied, \"since here I ride in quest of Charlemagne--\nFor I serve the Moor Calaynos, and I his defiance bring\nTo every lord that sits at the board of Charlemagne your King.\n\n\nXII.\n\"Now lordlings fair, if anywhere in the wood ye've seen him riding,\nO tell me plain the path he has ta'en--there is no cause for chiding;\nFor my lord hath blown his trumpet by every gate of Paris--\nLong hours in vain, by the bank of Seine, upon his steed he tarries.\"--\n\n\nXIII.\nWhen the Emperor had heard the Moor, full red was his old cheek,\n\"Go back, base cur, upon the spur, for I am he you seek--\nGo back, and tell your master to commend him to Mahoun,\nFor his soul shall dwell with him in hell, or ere yon sun go down.\n\n\nXIV.\n\"Mine arm is weak, my hairs are grey,\" (thus spake King Charlemagne,)\n\"Would for one hour I had the power of my young days again,\nAs when I plucked the Saxon from out his mountain den--\nO soon should cease the vaunting of this proud Saracen!\n\n\nXV.\n\"Though now mine arm be weakened, though now my hairs be grey,\nThe hard-won praise of other days cannot be swept away--\nIf shame there be, my liegemen, that shame on you must lie--\nGo forth, go forth, good Roland; to-night this Moor must die.\"--\n\n\nXVI.\nThen out and spake rough Roland--\"Ofttimes I've thinned the ranks\nOf the hot Moor, and when all was o'er have won me little thanks;\nSome carpet knight will take delight to do this doughty feat,\nWhom damsels gay shall well repay with their smiles and whispers sweet!\"--\n\n\nXVII.\nThen out and spake Sir Baldwin--the youngest peer was he,\nThe youngest and the comeliest--\"Let none go forth but me;\nSir Roland is mine uncle, and he may in safety jeer,\nBut I will show the youngest may be Sir Roland's peer.\"--\n\n\nXVIII.\n\"Nay, go not thou,\" quoth Charlemagne, \"thou art my gallant youth,\nAnd braver none I look upon; but thy cheek it is too smooth;\nAnd the curls upon thy forehead they are too glossy bright;--\nSome elder peer must couch his spear against this crafty knight.\"--\n\n\nXIX.\nBut away, away goes Baldwin, no words can stop him now,\nBehind him lies the greenwood, he hath gained the mountain's brow,\nHe reineth first his charger, within the churchyard green,\nWhere, striding slow the elms below, the haughty Moor is seen.\n\n\nXX.\nThen out and spake Calaynos--\"Fair youth, I greet thee well;\nThou art a comely stripling, and if thou with me wilt dwell,\nAll for the grace of thy sweet face, thou shalt not lack thy fee,\nWithin my lady's chamber a pretty page thou'lt be.\"--\n\n\nXXI.\nAn angry man was Baldwin, when thus he heard him speak,\n\"Proud knight,\" quoth he, \"I come with thee a bloody spear to break.\"--\nO, sternly smiled Calaynos, when thus he heard him say,--\nO loudly as he mounted his mailed barb did neigh.\n\n\nXXII.\nOne shout, one thrust, and in the dust young Baldwin lies full low--\nNo youthful knight could bear the might of that fierce warrior's blow;\nCalaynos draws his falchion, and waves it to and fro,\n\"Thy name now say, and for mercy pray, or to hell thy soul must go.\"--\n\n\nXXIII.\nThe helpless youth revealed the truth. Then said the conqueror--\n\"I spare thee for thy tender years, and for thy great valour;\nBut thou must rest thee captive here, and serve me on thy knee,\nFor fain I'd tempt some doughtier peer to come and rescue thee.\"\n\n\nXXIV.\nSir Roland heard that haughty word, (he stood behind the wall,)\nHis heart, I trow, was heavy enow, when he saw his kinsman fall;\nBut now his heart was burning, and never a word he said,\nBut clasped his buckler on his arm, his helmet on his head.\n\n\nXXV.\nAnother sight saw the Moorish knight, when Roland blew his horn,\nTo call him to the combat in anger and in scorn;\nAll cased in steel from head to heel, in the stirrup high he stood,\nThe long spear quivered in his hand, as if athirst for blood.\n\n\nXXVI.\nThen out and spake Calaynos--\"Thy name I fain would hear;\nA coronet on thy helm is set; I guess thou art a Peer.\"--\nSir Roland lifted up his horn, and blew another blast,\n\"No words, base Moor,\" quoth Roland, \"this hour shall be thy last.\"--\n\n\nXXVII.\nI wot they met full swiftly, I wot the shock was rude;\nDown fell the misbeliever, and o'er him Roland stood;\nClose to his throat the steel he brought, and plucked his beard full sore--\n\"What devil brought thee hither?--speak out or die, false Moor!\"--\n\n\nXXVIII.\n\"O! I serve a noble damsel, a haughty maid of Spain,\nAnd in evil day I took my way, that I her grace might gain;\nFor every gift I offered, my lady did disdain,\nAnd craved the ears of certain Peers that ride with Charlemagne.\"--\n\n\nXXIX.\nThen loudly laughed rough Roland--\"Full few will be her tears,\nIt was not love her soul did move, when she bade thee beard THE PEERS.\"--\nWith that he smote upon his throat, and spurned his crest in twain,\n\"No more,\" he cries, \"this moon will rise above the woods of Seine.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE ESCAPE OF GAYFEROS.\n\n\nThe story of Gayfer de Bourdeaux is to be found at great length in the\nRomantic Chronicle of Charlemagne; and it has supplied the Spanish\nminstrels with subjects for a long series of ballads.\n\nIn that which follows, Gayferos, yet a boy, is represented as hearing\nfrom his mother the circumstances of his father's death; and as narrowly\nescaping with his own life, in consequence of his stepfather's cruelty.\n\n\nI.\nBefore her knee the boy did stand, within the dais so fair,\nThe golden shears were in her hand, to clip his curled hair;\nAnd ever as she clipped the curls, such doleful words she spake,\nThat tears ran from Gayferos' eyes, for his sad mother's sake.\n\n\nII.\n\"God grant a beard were on thy face, and strength thine arm within,\nTo fling a spear, or swing a mace, like Roland Paladin!\nFor then, I think, thou wouldst avenge thy father that is dead,\nWhom envious traitors slaughtered within thy mother's bed.\n\n\nIII.\n\"Their bridal-gifts were rich and rare, that hate might not be seen;\nThey cut me garments broad and fair--none fairer hath the Queen.\"--\nThen out and spake the little boy--\"Each night to God I call,\nAnd to his blessed Mother, to make me strong and tall!\"--\n\n\nIV.\nThe Count he heard Gayferos, in the palace where he lay;--\n\"Now silence, silence, Countess! it is falsehood that you say;\nI neither slew the man, nor hired another's sword to slay;--\nBut, for that the mother hath desired, be sure the son shall pay!\"\n\n\nV.\nThe Count called to his esquires, (old followers were they,\nWhom the dead Lord had nurtured for many a merry day)--\nHe bade them take their old Lord's heir, and stop his tender breath--\nAlas! 'twas piteous but to hear the manner of that death.\n\n\nVI.\n\"List, esquires, list, for my command is offspring of mine oath--\nThe stirrup-foot and the hilt-hand see that ye sunder both;--\nThat ye cut out his eyes 'twere best--the safer he will go--\nAnd bring a finger and the heart, that I his end may know.\"--\n\n\nVII.\nThe esquires took the little boy aside with them to go;\nYet, as they went, they did repent--\"O God! must this be so?\nHow shall we think to look for grace, if this poor child we slay,\nWhen ranged before Christ Jesu's face at the great judgment day?\"--\n\n\nVIII.\nWhile they, not knowing what to do, were standing in such talk,\nThe Countess' little lap-dog bitch by chance did cross their walk;\nThen out and spake one of the 'squires, (you may hear the words he said,)\n\"I think the coming of this bitch may serve us in good stead--\n\n\nIX.\n\"Let us take out the bitch's heart, and give it to Galvan;\nThe boy may with a finger part, and be no worser man.\"--\nWith that they cut the joint away, and whispered in his ear,\nThat he must wander many a day, nor once those parts come near.\n\n\nX.\n\"Your uncle grace and love will show; he is a bounteous man;\"--\nAnd so they let Gayferos go, and turned them to Galvan.\nThe heart and the small finger upon the board they laid,\nAnd of Gayferos' slaughter a cunning story made.\n\n\nXI.\nThe Countess, when she hears them, in great grief loudly cries:\nMeantime the stripling safely unto his uncle hies:--\n\"Now welcome, my fair boy,\" he said, \"what good news may they be\nCome with thee to thine uncle's hall?\"--\"Sad tidings come with me--\n\n\nXII.\n\"The false Galvan had laid his plan to have me in my grave;\nBut I've escaped him, and am here, my boon from thee to crave:\nRise up, rise up, mine uncle, thy brother's blood they've shed;\nRise up--they've slain my father within my mother's bed.\"[2]\n\n\n\n\nMELISENDRA.\n\n\nThe following is a version of another of the ballads concerning\nGayferos. It is the same that is quoted in the chapter of the\nPuppet-show in Don Quixote.\n\n\"'Child, child,' said Don Quixote, 'go on directly with your story, and\ndon't keep us here with your excursions and ramblings out of the road. I\ntell you there must be a formal process, and legal trial, to prove\nmatters of fact.'--'Boy,' said the master from behind the show, 'do as\nthe gentleman bids you. Don't run so much upon flourishes, but follow\nyour plain song, without venturing on counterpoints, for fear of\nspoiling all'--'I will, sir,' quoth the boy, and so proceeding: 'Now,\nsirs, he that you see there a-horseback, wrapt up in the Gascoign-cloak,\nis Don Gayferos himself, whom his wife, now revenged on the Moor for his\nimpudence, seeing from the battlements of the tower, takes him for a\nstranger, and talks with him as such, according to the ballad,\n\n 'Quoth Melisendra, if perchance,\n  Sir Traveller, you go for France,\n  For pity's sake, ask when you're there,\n  For Gayferos, my husband dear.'\n\n\n\"'I omit the rest, not to tire you with a long story. It is sufficient\nthat he makes himself known to her, as you may guess by the joy she\nshows; and, accordingly, now see how she lets herself down from the\nbalcony, to come at her loving husband, and get behind him; but,\nunhappily, alas! one of the skirts of her gown is caught upon one of the\nspikes of the balcony, and there she hangs and hovers in the air\nmiserably, without being able to get down. But see how Heaven is\nmerciful, and sends relief in the greatest distress! Now Don Gayferos\nrides up to her, and, not fearing to tear her rich gown, lays hold on\nit, and at one pull brings her down; and then at one lift sets her\nastride upon his horse's crupper, bidding her to sit fast, and clap her\narms about him, that she might not fall; for the lady Melisendra was not\nused to that kind of riding.\n\n\"'Observe now, gallants, how the horse neighs, and shows how proud he is\nof the burden of his brave master and fair mistress. Look, now, how they\nturn their backs, and leave the city, and gallop it merrily away towards\nParis. Peace be with you, for a peerless couple of true lovers! may ye\nget safe and sound into your own country, without any lett or ill\nchance in your journey, and live as long as Nestor, in peace and\nquietness among your friends and relations.'--'Plainness, boy!' cried\nMaster Peter, 'none of your flights, I beseech you, for affectation is\nthe devil.'--The boy answered nothing, but going on: 'Now, sirs,' quoth\nhe, 'some of those idle people, that love to pry into everything,\nhappened to spy Melisendra as she was making her escape, and ran\npresently and gave Marsilius notice of it; whereupon he straight\ncommanded to sound an alarm; and now mind what a din and hurly-burly\nthere is, and how the city shakes with the ring of the bells backwards\nin all the mosques!'--'There you are out, boy,' said Don Quixote; 'the\nMoors have no bells, they only use kettle-drums, and a kind of shaulms\nlike our waits or hautboys; so that your ringing of bells in Sansuena is\na mere absurdity, good Master Peter.'--'Nay, sir,' said Master Peter,\ngiving over ringing, 'if you stand upon these trifles with us, we shall\nnever please you. Don't be so severe a critic. Are there not a thousand\nplays that pass with great success and applause, though they have many\ngreater absurdities, and nonsense in abundance? On, boy, on, let there\nbe as many impertinences as motes in the sun; no matter, so I get the\nmoney.'--'Well said,' answered Don Quixote.--'And now, sirs,' quoth the\nboy, 'observe what a vast company of glittering horse comes pouring out\nof the city, in pursuit of the Christian lovers; what a dreadful sound\nof trumpets, and clarions, and drums, and kettle-drums there is in the\nair. I fear they will overtake them, and then will the poor wretches be\ndragged along most barbarously at the tails of their horses, which would\nbe sad indeed.'\n\n\"Don Quixote, seeing such a number of Moors, and hearing such an alarm,\nthought it high time to assist the flying lovers; and starting up, 'It\nshall never be said while I live,' cried he aloud, 'that I suffered such\na wrong to be done to so famous a knight and so daring a lover as Don\nGayferos. Forbear, then, your unjust pursuit, ye base-born rascals!\nStop, or prepare to meet my furious resentment!' Then drawing out his\nsword, to make good his threats, at one spring he gets to the show, and\nwith a violent fury lays at the Moorish puppets, cutting and slashing in\na most terrible manner: some he overthrows, and beheads others; maims\nthis, and cleaves that in pieces. Among the rest of his merciless\nstrokes, he thundered one down with such a mighty force, that had not\nMaster Peter luckily ducked and squatted down, it had certainly chopped\noff his head as easily as one might cut an apple.\"\n\nI.\nAt Sansuena,[3] in the tower, fair Melisendra lies,\nHer heart is far away in France, and tears are in her eyes;\nThe twilight shade is thickening laid on Sansuena's plain,\nYet wistfully the lady her weary eyes doth strain.\n\n\nII.\nShe gazes from the dungeon strong, forth on the road to Paris,\nWeeping, and wondering why so long her Lord Gayferos tarries,\nWhen lo! a knight appears in view--a knight of Christian mien,\nUpon a milk-white charger he rides the elms between.\n\n\nIII.\nShe from her window reaches forth her hand a sign to make,\n\"O, if you be a knight of worth, draw near for mercy's sake;\nFor mercy and sweet charity, draw near, Sir Knight to me,\nAnd tell me if ye ride to France, or whither bowne ye be.\n\n\nIV.\n\"O, if ye be a Christian knight, and if to France you go,\nI pr'ythee tell Gayferos that you have seen my woe;\nThat you have seen me weeping, here in the Moorish tower,\nWhile he is gay by night and day, in hall and lady's bower.\n\n\nV.\n\"Seven summers have I waited, seven winters long are spent,\nYet word of comfort none he speaks, nor token hath he sent;\nAnd if he is weary of my love, and would have me wed a stranger,\nStill say his love is true to him--nor time nor wrong can change her.\"--\n\n\nVI.\nThe knight on stirrup rising, bids her wipe her tears away,--\n\"My love, no time for weeping, no peril save delay--\nCome, boldly spring, and lightly leap--no listening Moor is near us,\nAnd by dawn of day we'll be far away,\"--so spake the Knight Gayferos.\n\n\nVII.\nShe has made the sign of the Cross divine, and an Ave she hath said,\nAnd she dares the leap both wide and deep--that damsel without dread;\nAnd he hath kissed her pale pale cheek, and lifted her behind,\nSaint Denis speed the milk-white steed--no Moor their path shall find.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MARCH OF BERNARDO DEL CARPIO.\n\n\nOf Bernardo del Carpio, we find little or nothing in the French romances\nof Charlemagne. He belongs exclusively to Spanish History, or rather\nperhaps to Spanish Romance; in which the honour is claimed for him of\nslaying the famous Orlando, or Roland, the nephew of Charlemagne, in the\nfatal field of Roncesvalles.\n\nThe continence which procured for Alonzo, who succeeded to the\nprecarious throne of the Christians, in the Asturias, about 795, the\nepithet of the Chaste, was not universal in his family. By an intrigue\nwith Sancho Diaz, Count of Saldana, or Saldenha, Donna Ximena, sister of\nthis virtuous prince, bore a son. Some historians attempt to gloss over\nthis incident, by alleging that a private marriage had taken place\nbetween the lovers: but King Alphonso, who was well-nigh sainted for\nliving only in platonic union with his wife Bertha, took the scandal\ngreatly to heart. He shut up the peccant princess in a cloister, and\nimprisoned her gallant in the castle of Luna, where he caused him to be\ndeprived of sight. Fortunately, his wrath did not extend to the\noffspring of their stolen affections, the famous Bernardo del Carpio.\nWhen the youth had grown up to manhood, Alphonso, according to the\nSpanish chroniclers, invited the Emperor Charlemagne into Spain, and\nhaving neglected to raise up heirs for the kingdom of the Goths in the\nordinary manner, he proposed the inheritance of his throne as the price\nof the alliance of Charles. But the nobility, headed by Bernardo del\nCarpio, remonstrated against the king's choice of a successor, and would\non no account consent to receive a Frenchman as heir of their crown.\nAlphonso himself repented of the invitation he had given Charlemagne,\nand when that champion of Christendom came to expel the Moors from\nSpain, he found the conscientious and chaste Alphonso had united with\nthe infidels against him. An engagement took place in the renowned pass\nof Roncesvalles, in which the French were defeated, and the celebrated\nRoland, or Orlando, was slain. The victory was ascribed chiefly to the\nprowess of Bernardo del Carpio.\n\nThe following ballad describes the enthusiasm excited among the Leonese,\nwhen Bernard first raised his standard to oppose the progress of\nCharlemagne's army.\n\n\nI.\nWith three thousand Men of Leon, from the city Bernard goes,\nTo protect the soil Hispanian from the spear of Frankish foes\nFrom the city which is planted in the midst between the seas,\nTo preserve the name and glory of old Pelayo's victories.\n\n\nII.\nThe peasant hears upon his field the trumpet of the knight,\nHe quits his team for spear and shield, and garniture of might,\nThe shepherd hears it 'mid the mist--he flingeth down his crook,\nAnd rushes from the mountain like a tempest-troubled brook.\n\n\nIII.\nThe youth who shows a maiden's chin, whose brows have ne'er been bound\nThe helmet's heavy ring within, gains manhood from the sound;\nThe hoary sire beside the fire forgets his feebleness,\nOnce more to feel the cap of steel a warrior's ringlets press.\n\n\nIV.\nAs through the glen his spears did gleam, these soldiers from the hills,\nThey swelled his host, as mountain-stream receives the roaring rills;\nThey round his banner flocked, in scorn of haughty Charlemagne,\nAnd thus upon their swords are sworn the faithful sons of Spain.\n\n\nV.\n\"Free were we born,\" 'tis thus they cry, \"though to our King we owe\nThe homage and the fealty behind his crest to go;\nBy God's behest our aid he shares, but God did ne'er command,\nThat we should leave our children heirs of an enslaved land.\n\n\nVI.\n\"Our breasts are not so timorous, nor are our arms so weak,\nNor are our veins so bloodless, that we our vow should break,\nTo sell our freedom for the fear of Prince or Paladin,--\nAt least we'll sell our birthright dear, no bloodless prize they'll win.\n\n\nVII.\n\"At least King Charles, if God decrees he must be lord of Spain,\nShall witness that the Leonese were not aroused in vain;\nHe shall bear witness that we died, as lived our sires of old,\nNor only of Numantium's pride shall minstrel tales be told.\n\n\nVIII.\n\"THE LION[4] that hath bathed his paws in seas of Libyan gore,\nShall he not battle for the laws and liberties of yore?\nAnointed cravens may give gold to whom it likes them well,\nBut steadfast heart and spirit bold Alphonso ne'er shall sell.\"\n\n\n\n\nLADY ALDA'S DREAM.\n\n\nThe following is an attempt to render one of the most admired of all the\nSpanish ballads.\n\n\n En Paris esta Dona Alda, la esposa de Don Roldan,\n Trecientas damas con ella, para la accompanar,\n Todas visten un vestido, todas calcan un calcar, &c.\n\n\nIn its whole structure and strain it bears a very remarkable resemblance\nto several of our own old ballads--both English and Scottish.\n\n\nI.\nIn Paris sits the lady that shall be Sir Roland's bride,\nThree hundred damsels with her, her bidding to abide;\nAll clothed in the same fashion, both the mantle and the shoon,\nAll eating at one table, within her hall at noon:\nAll, save the Lady Alda, she is lady of them all,\nShe keeps her place upon the dais, and they serve her in her hall;\nThe thread of gold a hundred spin, the lawn a hundred weave,\nAnd a hundred play sweet melody within Alda's bower at eve.\n\n\nII.\nWith the sound of their sweet playing, the lady falls asleep,\nAnd she dreams a doleful dream, and her damsels hear her weep;\nThere is sorrow in her slumber, and she waketh with a cry,\nAnd she calleth for her damsels, and swiftly they come nigh.\n\"Now, what is it, Lady Alda,\" (you may hear the words they say,)\n\"Bringeth sorrow to thy pillow, and chaseth sleep away?\"--\n\"O, my maidens!\" quoth the lady, \"my heart it is full sore!\nI have dreamt a dream of evil, and can slumber never more.\n\n\nIII.\n\"For I was upon a mountain, in a bare and desert place,\nAnd I saw a mighty eagle, and a falcon he did chase;\nAnd to me the falcon came, and I hid it in my breast,\nBut the mighty bird, pursuing, came and rent away my vest;\nAnd he scattered all the feathers, and blood was on his beak,\nAnd ever, as he tore and tore, I heard the falcon shriek;--\nNow read my vision, damsels, now read my dream to me,\nFor my heart may well be heavy that doleful sight to see.\"--\n\n\nIV.\nOut spake the foremost damsel was in her chamber there--\n(You may hear the words she says), \"O! my lady's dream is fair--\nThe mountain is St. Denis' choir; and thou the falcon art,\nAnd the eagle strong that teareth the garment from thy heart,\nAnd scattereth the feathers, he is the Paladin--\nThat, when again he comes from Spain, must sleep thy bower within;--\nThen be blithe of cheer, my lady, for the dream thou must not grieve,\nIt means but that thy bridegroom shall come to thee at eve.\"--\n\n\nV.\n\"If thou hast read my vision, and read it cunningly,\"--\nThus said the Lady Alda, \"thou shalt not lack thy fee.\" But\nwoe is me for Alda! there was heard, at morning hour,\nA voice of lamentation within that lady's bower,\nFor there had come to Paris a messenger by night,\nAnd his horse it was a-weary, and his visage it was white;\nAnd there's weeping in the chamber and there's silence in the hall,\nFor Sir Roland had been slaughtered in the chase of Roncesval.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ADMIRAL GUARINOS.\n\n\nThis is a translation of the ballad which Don Quixote and Sancho Panza,\nwhen at Toboso, overheard a peasant singing, as he was going to his work\nat daybreak.--\"Iba cantando,\" says Cervantes, \"aquel romance que dice,\nMala la vistes Franceses la caca de Roncesvalles.\"\n\n\nI.\nThe day of Roncesvalles was a dismal day for you,\nYe men of France, for there the lance of King Charles was broke in two.\nYe well may curse that rueful field, for many a noble peer,\nIn fray or fight, the dust did bite, beneath Bernardo's spear.\n\n\nII.\nThere captured was Guarinos, King Charles's admiral;\nSeven Moorish kings surrounded him, and seized him for their thrall;\nSeven times, when all the chase was o'er, for Guarinos lots they cast;\nSeven times Marlotes won the throw, and the knight was his at last.\n\n\nIII.\nMuch joy had then Marlotes, and his captive much did prize,\nAbove all the wealth of Araby, he was precious in his eyes.\nWithin his tent at evening he made the best of cheer,\nAnd thus, the banquet done, he spake unto his prisoner.\n\n\nIV.\n\"Now, for the sake of Alla, Lord Admiral Guarinos\nBe thou a Moslem, and much love shall ever rest between us.\nTwo daughters have I--all the day thy handmaid one shall be,\nThe other (and the fairer far) by night shall cherish thee.\n\n\nV.\n\"The one shall be thy waiting-maid, thy weary feet to lave,\nTo scatter perfumes on thy head, and fetch thee garments brave;\nThe other--she the pretty--shall deck her bridal bower,\nAnd my field and my city they both shall be her dower.\n\n\nVI.\n\"If more thou wishest, more I'll give--speak boldly what thy thought is.\"--\nThus earnestly and kindly to Guarinos said Marlotes;--\nBut not a moment did he take to ponder or to pause,\nThus clear and quick the answer of the Christian Captain was:\n\n\nVII.\n\"Now, God forbid! Marlotes, and Mary, his dear mother,\nThat I should leave the faith of Christ, and bind me to another.\nFor women--I've one wife in France, and I'll wed no more in Spain;\nI change not faith, I break not vow, for courtesy or gain.\"--\n\n\nVIII.\nWroth waxed King Marlotes, when thus he heard him say,\nAnd all for ire commanded, he should be led away;\nAway unto the dungeon keep, beneath its vault to lie,\nWith fetters bound in darkness deep, far off from sun and sky.\n\n\nIX.\nWith iron bands they bound his hands. That sore unworthy plight\nMight well express his helplessness, doomed never more to fight.\nAgain, from cincture down to knee, long bolts of iron he bore,\nWhich signified the knight should ride on charger never more.\n\n\nX.\nThree times alone, in all the year, it is the captive's doom,\nTo see God's daylight bright and clear, instead of dungeon-gloom;\nThree times alone they bring him out, like Samson long ago,\nBefore the Moorish rabble-rout to be a sport and show.\n\n\nXI.\nOn three high feasts they bring him forth, a spectacle to be,\nThe feast of Pasque, and the great day of the Nativity,\nAnd on that morn, more solemn yet, when the maidens strip the bowers,\nAnd gladden mosque and minaret with the first fruits of the flowers.\n\n\nXII.\nDays come and go of gloom and show. Seven years are come and gone,\nAnd now doth fall the festival of the holy Baptist John;\nChristian and Moslem tilts and jousts, to give it homage due;\nAnd rushes on the paths to spread they force the sulky Jew.\n\n\nXIII.\nMarlotes, in his joy and pride, a target high doth rear,\nBelow the Moorish knights must ride and pierce it with the spear;\nBut 'tis so high up in the sky, albeit much they strain,\nNo Moorish lance so far may fly, Marlotes' prize to gain.\n\n\nXIV.\nWroth waxed King Marlotes, when he beheld them fail,\nThe whisker trembled on his lip, and his cheek for ire was pale;\nAnd heralds proclamation made, with trumpets, through the town,--\n\"Nor child shall suck, nor man shall eat, till the mark be tumbled down.\"\n\n\nXV.\nThe cry of proclamation, and the trumpet's haughty sound,\nDid send an echo to the vault where the admiral was bound.\n\"Now, help me God!\" the captive cries, \"what means this din so loud?\nOh, Queen of Heaven! be vengeance given on these thy haters proud!\n\n\nXVI.\n\"O! is it that some Pagan gay doth Marlotes' daughter wed,\nAnd that they bear my scorned fair in triumph to his bed?\nOr is it that the day is come--one of the hateful three,\nWhen they, with trumpet, fife, and drum, make heathen game of me?\"--\n\n\nXVII.\nThese words the jailer chanced to hear, and thus to him he said,\n\"These tabors, Lord, and trumpets clear, conduct no bride to bed;\nNor has the feast come round again, when he that has the right,\nCommands thee forth, thou foe of Spain, to glad the people's sight.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\"This is the joyful morning of John the Baptist's day,\nWhen Moor and Christian feasts at home, each in his nation's way;\nBut now our King commands that none his banquet shall begin,\nUntil some knight, by strength or sleight, the spearman's prize do win.\"--\n\n\nXIX.\nThen out and spake Guarinos, \"O! soon each man should feed,\nWere I but mounted once again on my own gallant steed.\nO! were I mounted as of old, and harnessed cap-a-pee,\nFull soon Marlotes' prize I'd hold, whate'er its price may be.\n\n\nXX.\n\"Give me my horse, mine old grey horse, so be he is not dead,\nAll gallantly caparisoned, with plate on breast and head,\nAnd give the lance I brought from France, and if I win it not,\nMy life shall be the forfeiture--I'll yield it on the spot.\"--\n\n\nXXI.\nThe jailer wondered at his words. Thus to the knight said he,\n\"Seven weary years of chains and gloom have little humbled thee;\nThere's never a man in Spain, I trow, the like so well might bear;\nAn' if thou wilt, I with thy vow will to the King repair.\"--\n\n\nXXII.\nThe jailer put his mantle on, and came unto the King,\nHe found him sitting on the throne, within his listed ring;\nClose to his ear he planted him, and the story did begin,\nHow bold Guarinos vaunted him the spearman's prize to win.\n\n\nXXIII.\nThat, were he mounted but once more on his own gallant grey,\nAnd armed with the lance he bore on the Roncesvalles' day,\nWhat never Moorish knight could pierce, he would pierce it at a blow,\nOr give with joy his life-blood fierce, at Marlotes' feet to flow.\n\n\nXXIV.\nMuch marvelling, then said the King, \"Bring Sir Guarinos forth,\nAnd in the Grange go seek ye for his grey steed of worth;\nHis arms are rusty on the wall--seven years have gone, I judge,\nSince that strong horse has bent his force to be a carrion drudge.\n\n\nXXV.\n\"Now this will be a sight indeed, to see the enfeebled lord\nEssay to mount that ragged steed, and draw that rusty sword;\nAnd for the vaunting of his phrase he well deserves to die,\nSo, jailer, gird his harness on, and bring your champion nigh.\"--\n\n\nXXVI.\nThey have girded on his shirt of mail, his cuisses well they've clasped,\nAnd they've barred the helm on his visage pale, and his hand the lance\n                                                           hath clasped,\nAnd they have caught the old grey horse, the horse he loved of yore,\nAnd he stands pawing at the gate--caparisoned once more.\n\n\nXXVII.\nWhen the knight came out the Moors did shout, and loudly laughed the King,\nFor the horse he pranced and capered, and furiously did fling;\nBut Guarinos whispered in his ear, and looked into his face,\nThen stood the old charger like a lamb, with a calm and gentle grace.\n\n\nXXVIII.\nO! Lightly did Guarinos vault into the saddle-tree,\nAnd slowly riding down made halt before Marlotes' knee;\nAgain the heathen laughed aloud--\"All hail, Sir Knight,\" quoth he,\n\"Now do thy best, thou champion proud. Thy blood I look to see.\"--\n\n\nXXIX.\nWith that Guarinos, lance in rest, against the scoffer rode,\nPierced at one thrust his envious breast, and down his turban trode.\nNow ride, now ride, Guarinos--nor lance nor rowel spare--\nSlay, slay, and gallop for thy life.--The land of France lies _there_!\n\n\n\n\nTHE COMPLAINT OF THE COUNT OF SALDENHA.\n\n\nThis ballad is intended to represent the feelings of Don Sancho, Count\nof Saldenha or Saldana, while imprisoned by King Alphonso, and, as he\nsupposed, neglected and forgotten, both by his wife, or rather mistress,\nDonna Ximena, and by his son, the famous Bernardo del Carpio.\n\n\nI.\nThe Count Don Sancho Diaz, the Signior of Saldane,\nLies weeping in his prison, for he cannot refrain:--\nKing Alphonso and his sister, of both doth he complain,\nBut most of bold Bernardo, the champion of Spain.\n\n\nII.\n\"The weary years I durance brook, how many they have been,\nWhen on these hoary hairs I look, may easily be seen;\nWhen they brought me to this castle, my curls were black, I ween,\nWoe worth the day! they have grown grey these rueful walls between.\n\n\nIII.\n\"They tell me my Bernardo is the doughtiest lance in Spain,\nBut if he were my loyal heir, there's blood in every vein\nWhereof the voice his heart would hear--his hand would not gainsay;--\nThough the blood of kings be mixed with mine, it would not have\n                                                      all the sway.\n\n\nIV.\n\"Now all the three have scorn of me--unhappy man am I!\nThey leave me without pity--they leave me here to die.\nA stranger's feud, albeit rude, were little dole or care,\nBut he's my own, both flesh and bone; his scorn is ill to bear.\n\n\nV.\n\"From Jailer and from Castellain I hear of hardiment\nAnd chivalry in listed plain on joust and tourney spent;--\nI hear of many a battle, in which thy spear is red,\nBut help from thee comes none to me where I am ill bested.\n\n\nVI.\n\"Some villain spot is in thy blood to mar its gentle strain,\nElse would it show forth hardihood for him from whom 'twas ta'en;\nThy hope is young, thy heart is strong, but yet a day may be,\nWhen thou shalt weep in dungeon deep, and none thy weeping see.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE FUNERAL OF THE COUNT OF SALDENHA.\n\n\nThe ballads concerning Bernardo del Carpio are, upon the whole, in\naccordance with his history as given in the _Coronica General_.\nAccording to the Chronicle, Bernardo being at last wearied out of all\npatience by the cruelty of which his father was the victim, determined\nto quit the Court of his King, and seek an alliance among the Moors.\nHaving fortified himself in the Castle of Carpio, he made continual\nincursions into the territory of Leon, pillaging and plundering wherever\nhe came. The King at length besieged him in his stronghold, but the\ndefence was so gallant, that there appeared no prospect of success;\nwhereupon many of the gentlemen in Alphonso's camp entreated the King to\noffer Bernardo immediate possession of his father's person, if he would\nsurrender his castle.\n\nBernardo at once consented; but the King gave orders to have Count\nSancho Diaz taken off instantly in his prison. \"When he was dead they\nclothed him in splendid attire, mounted him on horseback, and so led him\ntowards Salamanca, where his son was expecting his arrival. As they drew\nnigh the city, the King and Bernardo rode out to meet them; and when\nBernardo saw his father approaching, he exclaimed,--'O God! is the Count\nof Saldana indeed coming?'--'Look where he is,' replied the cruel King;\n'and now go and greet him whom you have so long desired to see.'\nBernardo went forward and took his father's hand to kiss it; but when he\nfelt the dead weight of the hand, and saw the livid face of the corpse,\nhe cried aloud, and said,--'Ah, Don Sandiaz, in an evil hour didst thou\nbeget me!--Thou art dead, and I have given my stronghold for thee, and\nnow I have lost all.'\"\n\n\nI.\nAll in the centre of the choir Bernardo's knees are bent,\nBefore him for his murdered sire yawns the old monument.\n\n\nII.\nHis kinsmen of the Carpio blood are kneeling at his back,\nWith knightly friends and vassals good, all garbed in weeds of black.\n\n\nIII.\nHe comes to make the obsequies of a basely slaughtered man,\nAnd tears are running down from eyes whence ne'er before they ran.\n\n\nIV.\nHis head is bowed upon the stone; his heart, albeit full sore,\nIs strong as when in days bygone he rode o'er Frank and Moor;\n\n\nV.\nAnd now between his teeth he mutters, that none his words can hear;\nAnd now the voice of wrath he utters, in curses loud and clear.\n\n\nVI.\nHe stoops him o'er his father's shroud, his lips salute the bier;\nHe communes with the corse aloud, as if none else were near.\n\n\nVII.\nHis right hand doth his sword unsheath, his left doth pluck his beard;--\nAnd while his liegemen held their breath, these were the words\n                                                           they heard:--\n\n\nVIII.\n\"Go up, go up, thou blessed ghost, into the arms of God;\nGo, fear not lest revenge be lost, when Carpio's blood hath flowed;\n\n\nIX.\n\"The steel that drank the blood of France, the arm thy foe that shielded,\nStill, Father, thirsts that burning lance, and still thy son can wield it.\"\n\n\n\n\nBERNARDO AND ALPHONSO.\n\n\nThe incident recorded in this ballad may be supposed to have occurred\nimmediately after the funeral of the Count of Saldenha. As to what was\nthe end of the knight's history, we are left almost entirely in the\ndark, both by the Chronicle and by the Romancero. It appears to be\nintimated, that after his father's death, he once more \"took service\"\namong the Moors, who are represented in several of the ballads as\naccustomed to exchange offices of courtesy with Bernardo.\n\nI.\nWith some good ten of his chosen men, Bernardo hath appeared\nBefore them all in the palace hall, the lying King to beard;\nWith cap in hand and eye on ground, he came in reverend guise,\nBut ever and anon he frowned, and flame broke from his eyes.\n\n\nII.\n\"A curse upon thee,\" cries the King, \"who comest unbid to me;\nBut what from traitor's blood should spring, save traitors like to thee?\nHis sire, Lords, had a traitor's heart; perchance our Champion brave\nMade think it were a pious part to share Don Sancho's grave.\"\n\n\nIII.\n\"Whoever told this tale the King hath rashness to repeat,\"\nCries Bernard, \"here my gage I fling before THE LIAR'S feet!\nNo treason was in Sancho's blood, no stain in mine doth lie--\nBelow the throne what knight will own the coward calumny?\n\n\nIV.\n\"The blood that I like water shed, when Roland did advance,\nBy secret traitors hired and led, to make us slaves of France;--\nThe life of King Alphonso I saved at Roncesval,--\nYour words, Lord King, are recompense abundant for it all.\n\n\nV.\n\"Your horse was down--your hope was flown--I saw the falchion shine,\nThat soon had drunk your royal blood, had not I ventured mine;\nBut memory soon of service done deserteth the ingrate,\nAnd ye've thanked the son for life and crown by the father's bloody fate.\n\n\nVI.\n\"Ye swore upon your kingly faith, to set Don Sancho free,\nBut curse upon your paltering breath, the light he ne'er did see;\nHe died in dungeon cold and dim, by Alphonso's base decree,\nAnd visage blind, and stiffened limb, were all they gave to me.\n\n\nVII.\n\"The King that swerveth from his word hath stained his purple black,\nNo Spanish Lord will draw the sword behind a Liar's back;\nBut noble vengeance shall be mine, an open hate I'll show--\nThe King hath injured Carpio's line, and Bernard is his foe.\"\n\n\nVIII.\n\"Seize--seize him!\"--loud the King doth scream--\"There are\n                                                  a thousand here--\nLet his foul blood this instant stream--What! Caitiffs, do ye fear?\nSeize--seize the traitor!\"--But not one to move a finger dareth,--\nBernardo standeth by the throne, and calm his sword he bareth.\n\n\nIX.\nHe drew the falchion from the sheath, and held it up on high,\nAnd all the hall was still as death:--cries Bernard, \"Here am I,\nAnd here is the sword that owns no lord, excepting heaven and me;\nFain would I know who dares his point--King, Conde, or Grandee.\"\n\n\nX.\nThen to his mouth the horn he drew--(it hung below his cloak)\nHis ten true men the signal knew, and through the ring they broke;\nWith helm on head, and blade in hand, the knights the circle brake,\nAnd back the lordlings 'gan to stand, and the false king to quake.\n\n\nXI.\n\"Ha! Bernard,\" quoth Alphonso, \"what means this warlike guise?\nYe know full well I jested--ye know your worth I prize.\"--\nBut Bernard turned upon his heel, and smiling passed away--\nLong rued Alphonso and his realm the jesting of that day.\n\n\n\n\nPART II.\n\nTHE YOUNG CID.\n\n\nThe Ballads in the Collection of Escobar, entitled \"Romancero e Historia\ndel muy valeroso Cavallero El Cid Ruy Diaz de Bivar,\" are said by Mr.\nSouthey to be in general possessed of but little merit. Notwithstanding\nthe opinion of that great scholar and poet, I have had much pleasure in\nreading them; and have translated a very few, which may serve, perhaps,\nas a sufficient specimen.\n\nThe following is a version of that which stands fifth in Escobar:--\n\n Cavalga Diego Laynez al buen Rey besar la mano, &c.\n\n\nI.\nNow rides Diego Laynez, to kiss the good King's hand,\nThree hundred men of gentry go with him from his land,\nAmong them, young Rodrigo, the proud Knight of Bivar;\nThe rest on mules are mounted, he on his horse of war.\n\n\nII.\nThey ride in glittering gowns of soye,--He harnessed like a lord;\nThere is no gold about the boy, but the crosslet of his sword;\nThe rest have gloves of sweet perfume,--He gauntlets strong of mail;\nThey broidered caps and flaunting plume,--He crest untaught to quail.\n\n\nIII.\nAll talking with each other thus along their way they passed,\nBut now they've come to Burgos, and met the King at last;\nWhen they came near his nobles, a whisper through them ran,--\n\"He rides amidst the gentry that slew the Count Lozan.\"--\n\n\nIV.\nWith very haughty gesture Rodrigo reined his horse,\nRight scornfully he shouted, when he heard them so discourse,--\n\"If any of his kinsmen or vassals dare appear,\nThe man to give them answer, on horse or foot, is here.\"--\n\n\nV.\n\"The devil ask the question!\" thus muttered all the band;--\nWith that they all alighted, to kiss the good King's hand,--\nAll but the proud Rodrigo, he in his saddle stayed,--\nThen turned to him his father (you may hear the words he said).\n\n\nVI.\n\"Now, light, my son, I pray thee, and kiss the good King's hand,\nHe is our lord, Rodrigo; we hold of him our land.\"--\nBut when Rodrigo heard him, he looked in sulky sort,--\nI wot the words he answered they were both cold and short.\n\n\nVII.\n\"Had any other said it, his pains had well been paid,\nBut thou, sir, art my father, thy word must be obeyed.\"--\nWith that he sprung down lightly, before the King to kneel,\nBut as the knee was bending, out leapt his blade of steel.\n\n\nVIII.\nThe King drew back in terror, when he saw the sword was bare;\n\"Stand back, stand back, Rodrigo, in the devil's name beware,\nYour looks bespeak a creature of father Adam's mould,\nBut in your wild behaviour you're like some lion bold.\"\n\n\nIX.\nWhen Rodrigo heard him say so, he leapt into his seat,\nAnd thence he made his answer, with visage nothing sweet,--\n\"I'd think it little honour to kiss a kingly palm,\nAnd if my fathers kissed it, thereof ashamed I am.\"--\n\n\nX.\nWhen he these words had uttered, he turned him from the gate,\nHis true three hundred gentles behind him followed straight;\nIf with good gowns they came that day, with better arms they went;\nAnd if their mules behind did stay, with horses they're content.\n\n\n\n\nXIMENA DEMANDS VENGEANCE.\n\n\nThis ballad, the sixth in Escobar, represents Ximena Gomez as, in\nperson, demanding of the King vengeance for the death of her father,\nwhom the young Rodrigo de Bivar had fought and slain.\n\n\nI.\nWithin the court at Burgos a clamour doth arise,\nOf arms on armour clashing, and screams, and shouts, and cries;\nThe good men of the King, that sit his hall around,\nAll suddenly upspring, astonished at the sound.\n\n\nII.\nThe King leans from his chamber, from the balcony on high--\n\"What means this furious clamour my palace-porch so nigh?\"\nBut when he looked below him, there were horsemen at the gate,\nAnd the fair Ximena Gomez, kneeling in woeful state.\n\n\nIII.\nUpon her neck, disordered, hung down the lady's hair,\nAnd floods of tears were streaming upon her bosom fair.\nSore wept she for her father, the Count that had been slain;\nLoud cursed she Rodrigo, whose sword his blood did stain.\n\n\nIV.\nThey turned to bold Rodrigo, I wot his cheek was red;--\nWith haughty wrath he listened to the words Ximena said--\n\"Good King, I cry for justice. Now, as my voice thou hearest,\nSo God befriend the children, that in thy land thou rearest.\n\n\nV.\n\"The King that doth not justice hath forfeited his claim,\nBoth to his kingly station, and to his kingly name;\nHe should not sit at banquet, clad in the royal pall,\nNor should the nobles serve him on knee within the hall.\n\n\nVI.\n\"Good King, I am descended from barons bright of old,\nThat with Castilian pennons, Pelayo did uphold;\nBut if my strain were lowly, as it is high and clear,\nThou still shouldst prop the feeble, and the afflicted hear.\n\n\nVII.\n\"For thee, fierce homicide, draw, draw thy sword once more,\nAnd pierce the breast which wide I spread thy stroke before;\nBecause I am a woman, my life thou needst not spare,--\nI am Ximena Gomez, my slaughtered father's heir.\n\n\nVIII.\n\"Since thou hast slain the Knight that did our faith defend,\nAnd still to shameful flight all the Almanzors send,\n'Tis but a little matter that I confront thee so,\nCome, champion, slay his daughter, she needs must be thy foe.\"--\n\n\nIX.\nXimena gazed upon him, but no reply could meet;\nHis fingers held the bridle; he vaulted to his seat.\nShe turned her to the nobles, I wot her cry was loud,\nBut not a man durst follow; slow rode he through the crowd.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CID AND THE FIVE MOORISH KINGS.\n\n\nThe reader will find the story of this ballad in Mr. Southey's\n\"Chronicle of the Cid.\" \"And the Moors entered Castile in great power,\nfor there came with them five kings,\" &c. Book I. Sect. 4.\n\n\nI.\nWith fire and desolation the Moors are in Castile,\nFive Moorish kings together, and all their vassals leal;\nThey've passed in front of Burgos, through the Oca-Hills they've run,\nThey've plundered Belforado, San Domingo's harm is done.\n\n\nII.\nIn Najara and Lograno there's waste and disarray:--\nAnd now with Christian captives, a very heavy prey,\nWith many men and women, and boys and girls beside,\nIn joy and exultation to their own realms they ride.\n\n\nIII.\nFor neither king nor noble would dare their path to cross,\nUntil the good Rodrigo heard of this skaith and loss;\nIn old Bivar the castle he heard the tidings told,\n(He was as yet a stripling, not twenty summers old.)\n\n\nIV.\nHe mounted Bavieca, his friends he with him took,\nHe raised the country round him, no more such scorn to brook;\nHe rode to the hills of Oca, where then the Moormen lay,\nHe conquered all the Moormen, and took from them their prey.\n\n\nV.\nTo every man had mounted he gave his part of gain,\nDispersing the much treasure the Saracens had ta'en;\nThe Kings were all the booty himself had from the war,\nThem led he to the castle, his stronghold of Bivar.\n\n\nVI.\nHe brought them to his mother, proud dame that day was she:--\nThey owned him for their Signior, and then he set them free:\nHome went they, much commending Rodrigo of Bivar,\nAnd sent him lordly tribute, from their Moorish realms afar.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CID'S COURTSHIP.\n\n\nSee Mr. Southey's \"Chronicle of the Cid\" (Book I. Sect. V) for this part\nof the Cid's story, as given in the General Chronicle of Spain.\n\n\nI.\nNow, of Rodrigo de Bivar great was the fame that run,\nHow he five Kings had vanquished, proud Moormen every one;\nAnd how, when they consented to hold of him their ground,\nHe freed them from the prison wherein they had been bound.\n\n\nII.\nTo the good King Fernando, in Burgos where he lay,\nCame then Ximena Gomez, and thus to him did say:--\n\"I am Don Gomez' daughter, in Gormaz Count was he;\nHim slew Rodrigo of Bivar in battle valiantly.\n\n\nIII.\n\"Now am I come before you, this day a boon to crave,\nAnd it is that I to husband may this Rodrigo have;\nGrant this, and I shall hold me a happy damosell,\nMuch honoured shall I hold me, I shall be married well.\n\n\nIV.\n\"I know he's born for thriving, none like him in the land;\nI know that none in battle against his spear may stand;\nForgiveness is well pleasing in God our Saviour's view.\nAnd I forgive him freely, for that my sire he slew.\"--\n\n\nV.\nRight pleasing to Fernando was the thing she did propose;\nHe writes his letter swiftly, and forth his foot-page goes;\nI wot, when young Rodrigo saw how the King did write,\nHe leapt on Bavieca--I wot his leap was light.\n\n\nVI.\nWith his own troop of true men forthwith he took the way,\nThree hundred friends and kinsmen, all gently born were they;\nAll in one colour mantled, in armour gleaming gay,\nNew were both scarf and scabbard, when they went forth that day.\n\n\nVII.\nThe King came out to meet him, with words of hearty cheer;\nQuoth he, \"My good Rodrigo, you are right welcome here;\nThis girl Ximena Gomez would have ye for her lord,\nAlready for the slaughter her grace she doth accord.\n\n\nVIII.\n\"I pray you be consenting, my gladness will be great;\nYou shall have lands in plenty, to strengthen your estate.\"--\n\"Lord King,\" Rodrigo answers, \"in this and all beside\nCommand, and I'll obey you. The girl shall be my bride.\"--\n\n\nIX.\nBut when the fair Ximena came forth to plight her hand,\nRodrigo, gazing on her, his face could not command:\nHe stood and blushed before her;--thus at the last said he--\n\"I slew thy sire, Ximena, but not in villany:--\n\n\nX.\n\"In no disguise I slew him, man against man I stood;\nThere was some wrong between us, and I did shed his blood.\nI slew a man, I owe a man; fair lady, by God's grace,\nAn honoured husband thou shalt have in thy dead father's place.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE CID'S WEDDING.\n\n\nThe following ballad, which contains some curious traits of rough and\nantique manners, is not included in Escobar's Collection. There is one\nthere descriptive of the same event, but apparently executed by a much\nmore modern hand.\n\n\nI.\nWithin his hall of Burgos the King prepares the feast:\nHe makes his preparation for many a noble guest.\nIt is a joyful city, it is a gallant day,\n'Tis the Campeador's wedding, and who will bide away?\n\n\nII.\nLayn Calvo, the Lord Bishop, he first comes forth the gate,\nBehind him comes Ruy Diaz, in all his bridal state;\nThe crowd makes way before them as up the street they go;--\nFor the multitude of people their steps must needs be slow.\n\n\nIII.\nThe King had taken order that they should rear an arch,\nFrom house to house all over, in the way where they must march;\nThey have hung it all with lances, and shields, and glittering helms,\nBrought by the Campeador from out the Moorish realms.\n\n\nIV.\nThey have scattered olive branches and rushes on the street,\nAnd the ladies fling down garlands at the Campeador's feet;\nWith tapestry and broidery their balconies between,\nTo do his bridal honour, their walls the burghers screen.\n\n\nV.\nThey lead the bulls before them all covered o'er with trappings;\nThe little boys pursue them with hootings and with clappings;\nThe fool, with cap and bladder, upon his ass goes prancing,\nAmidst troops of captive maidens with bells and cymbals dancing.\n\n\nVI.\nWith antics and with fooleries, with shouting and with laughter,\nThey fill the streets of Burgos--and The Devil he comes after,\nFor the King has hired the horned fiend for sixteen maravedis,\nAnd there he goes, with hoofs for toes, to terrify the ladies.\n\n\nVII.\nThen comes the bride Ximena--the King he holds her hand;\nAnd the Queen, and, all in fur and pall, the nobles of the land;\nAll down the street the ears of wheat are round Ximena flying,\nBut the King lifts off her bosom sweet whatever there is lying.\n\n\nVIII.\nQuoth Suero, when he saw it, (his thought you understand,)\n\"'Tis a fine thing to be a King; but Heaven make me a Hand!\"\nThe King was very merry, when he was told of this,\nAnd swore the bride ere eventide, must give the boy a kiss.\n\n\nIX.\nThe King went always talking, but she held down her head,\nAnd seldom gave an answer to anything he said;\nIt was better to be silent, among such a crowd of folk,\nThan utter words so meaningless as she did when she spoke.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CID AND THE LEPER.\n\n\nLike our own Robert the Bruce, the great Spanish hero is represented as\nexhibiting, on many occasions, great gentleness of disposition and\ncompassion. But while old Barbour is contented with such simple\nanecdotes as that of a poor laundress being suddenly taken ill with the\npains of childbirth, and the king stopping the march of his army rather\nthan leave her unprotected, the minstrels of Spain, never losing an\nopportunity of gratifying the superstitious propensities of their\naudience, are sure to let no similar incident in their champion's\nhistory pass without a miracle.\n\n\nI.\nHe has ta'en some twenty gentlemen, along with him to go,\nFor he will pay that ancient vow he to Saint James doth owe;\nTo Compostella, where the shrine doth by the altar stand,\nThe good Rodrigo de Bivar is riding through the land.\n\n\nII.\nWhere'er he goes, much alms he throws, to feeble folk and poor;\nBeside the way for him they pray, him blessings to procure;\nFor, God and Mary Mother, their heavenly grace to win,\nHis hand was ever bountiful: great was his joy therein.\n\n\nIII.\nAnd there, in middle of the path, a leper did appear;\nIn a deep slough the leper lay, none would to help come near.\nWith a loud voice he thence did cry, \"For God our Saviour's sake,\nFrom out this fearful jeopardy a Christian brother take.\"--\n\n\nIV.\nWhen Roderick heard that piteous word, he from his horse came down;\nFor all they said, no stay he made, that noble champion;\nHe reached his hand to pluck him forth, of fear was no account,\nThen mounted on his steed of worth, and made the leper mount.\n\n\nV.\nBehind him rode the leprous man; when to their hostelrie\nThey came, he made him eat with him at table cheerfully;\nWhile all the rest from that poor guest with loathing shrunk away,\nTo his own bed the wretch he led, beside him there he lay.\n\n\nVI.\nAll at the mid-hour of the night, while good Rodrigo slept,\nA breath came from the leprous man, it through his shoulders crept;\nRight through the body, at the breast, passed forth that breathing cold;\nI wot he leaped up with a start, in terrors manifold.\n\n\nVII.\nHe groped for him in the bed, but him he could not find,\nThrough the dark chamber groped he, with very anxious mind;\nLoudly he lifted up his voice, with speed a lamp was brought,\nYet nowhere was the leper seen, though far and near they sought.\n\n\nVIII.\nHe turned him to his chamber, God wot, perplexed sore\nWith that which had befallen--when lo! his face before,\nThere stood a man, all clothed in vesture shining white:\nThus said the vision, \"Sleepest thou, or wakest thou, Sir Knight?\"--\n\n\nIX.\n\"I sleep not,\" quoth Rodrigo; \"but tell me who art thou,\nFor, in the midst of darkness, much light is on thy brow?\"--\n\"I am the holy Lazarus, I come to speak with thee;\nI am the same poor leper thou savedst for charity.\n\n\nX.\n\"Not vain the trial, nor in vain thy victory hath been;\nGod favours thee, for that my pain thou didst relieve yestreen.\nThere shall be honour with thee, in battle and in peace,\nSuccess in all thy doings, and plentiful increase.\n\n\nXI.\n\"Strong enemies shall not prevail, thy greatness to undo;\nThy name shall make men's cheeks full pale--Christians and Moslem too;\nA death of honour shalt thou die, such grace to thee is given,\nThy soul shall part victoriously, and be received in heaven.\"--\n\n\nXII.\nWhen he these gracious words had said, the spirit vanished quite,\nRodrigo rose and knelt him down--he knelt till morning light;\nUnto the Heavenly Father, and Mary Mother dear,\nHe made his prayer right humbly, till dawned the morning clear.\n\n\n\n\nBAVIECA.\n\n\nMontaigne, in his curious Essay, entitled \"Des Destriers,\" says that all\nthe world knows everything about Bucephalus. The name of the favourite\ncharger of the Cid Ruy Diaz, is scarcely less celebrated. Notice is\ntaken of him in almost every one of the hundred ballads concerning the\nhistory of his master,--and there are two or three of these, of which\nthe horse is more truly the hero than his rider. In one of these ballads,\nthe Cid is giving directions about his funeral; he desires that they\nshall place his body \"in full armour upon Bavieca,\" and so conduct him\nto the church of San Pedro de Cardena. This was done accordingly; and,\nsays another ballad--\n\n Truxeron pues a Babieca;\n Y en mirandole se puso\n Tan triste como si fuera\n Mas rasonable que bruto.\n\nIn the Cid's last will, mention is also made of this noble charger.\n\"When ye bury Bavieca, dig deep,\" says Ruy Diaz; \"for shameful thing\nwere it, that he should be eat by curs, who hath trampled down so much\ncurrish flesh of Moors.\"\n\n\nI.\nThe King looked on him kindly, as on a vassal true;\nThen to the King Ruy Diaz spake after reverence due,--\n\"O King, the thing is shameful, that any man beside\nThe liege lord of Castile himself should Bavieca ride:\n\n\nII.\n\"For neither Spain nor Araby could another charger bring\nSo good as he, and certes, the best befits my King.\nBut that you may behold him, and know him to the core,\nI'll make him go as he was wont when his nostrils smelt the Moor.\"--\n\n\nIII.\nWith that, the Cid, clad as he was in mantle furred and wide,\nOn Bavieca vaulting, put the rowel in his side;\nAnd up and down, and round and round, so fierce was his career,\nStreamed like a pennon on the wind Ruy Diaz' minivere.\n\n\nIV.\nAnd all that saw them praised them--they lauded man and horse,\nAs matched well, and rivalless for gallantry and force;\nNe'er had they looked on horseman might to this knight come near,\nNor on other charger worthy of such a cavalier.\n\n\nV.\nThus, to and fro a-rushing the fierce and furious steed,\nHe snapt in twain his hither rein:--\"God pity now the Cid.\"\n\"God pity Diaz,\" cried the Lords,--but when they looked again,\nThey saw Ruy Diaz ruling him, with the fragment of his rein;\nThey saw him proudly ruling with gesture firm and calm,\nLike a true lord commanding--and obeyed as by a lamb.\n\n\nVI.\nAnd so he led him foaming and panting to the King,\nBut \"No,\" said Don Alphonso, \"it were a shameful thing\nThat peerless Bavieca should ever be bestrid\nBy any mortal but Bivar--Mount, mount again, my Cid.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE EXCOMMUNICATION OF THE CID.\n\n\nThe last specimen I shall give of the Cid-ballad, is one the subject of\nwhich is evidently of the most apocryphal cast. It is, however, so far\nas I recollect, the only one of all that immense collection that is\nquoted or alluded to in Don Quixote. \"Sancho,\" cried Don Quixote, \"I am\nafraid of being excommunicated for having laid violent hands upon a man\nin holy orders, _Juxta illud; si quis suadente diabolo_, &c. But yet, now\nI think on it, I never touched him with my hands, but only with my\nlance; besides, I did not in the least suspect I had to do with priests,\nwhom I honour and revere as every good Catholic and faithful Christian\nought to do, but rather took them to be evil spirits. Well, let the\nworst come to the worst, I remember what befel the Cid Ruy Diaz, when he\nbroke to pieces the chair of a king's ambassador in the Pope's presence,\nfor which he was excommunicated; which did not hinder the worthy Rodrigo\nde Bivar from behaving himself that day like a valorous knight, and a\nman of honour.\"\n\n\nI.\nIt was when from Spain across the main the Cid had come to Rome,\nHe chanced to see chairs four and three beneath Saint Peter's dome.\n\"Now tell, I pray, what chairs be they;\"--\"Seven kings do sit thereon,\nAs well doth suit, all at the foot of the holy Father's throne.\"\n\n\nII.\n\"The Pope he sitteth above them all, that they may kiss his toe,\nBelow the keys the Flower-de-lys doth make a gallant show:\nFor his great puissance, the King of France next to the Pope may sit,\nThe rest more low, all in a row, as doth their station fit.\"--\n\n\nIII.\n\"Ha!\" quoth the Cid, \"now God forbid! it is a shame, I wiss,\nTo see the Castle[5] planted beneath the Flower-de-lys.[6]\nNo harm, I hope, good Father Pope--although I move thy chair.\"\n--In pieces small he kicked it all, ('twas of the ivory fair).\n\n\nIV.\nThe Pope's own seat he from his feet did kick it far away,\nAnd the Spanish chair he planted upon its place that day;\nAbove them all he planted it, and laughed right bitterly;\nLooks sour and bad I trow he had, as grim as grim might be.\n\n\nV.\nNow when the Pope was aware of this, he was an angry man,\nHis lips that night, with solemn rite, pronounced the awful ban;\nThe curse of God, who died on rood, was on that sinner's head--\nTo hell and woe man's soul must go if once that curse be said.\n\n\nVI.\nI wot, when the Cid was aware of this, a woful man was he,\nAt dawn of day he came to pray at the blessed Father's knee:\n\"Absolve me, blessed Father, have pity upon me,\nAbsolve my soul, and penance I for my sin will dree.\"--\n\n\nVII.\n\"Who is this sinner,\" quoth the Pope, \"that at my foot doth kneel?\"\n--\"I am Rodrigo Diaz--a poor Baron of Castile.\"--\nMuch marvelled all were in the hall, when that name they heard him say,\n--\"Rise up, rise up,\" the Pope he said, \"I do thy guilt away;--\n\n\nVIII.\n\"I do thy guilt away,\" he said--\"and my curse I blot it out--\nGod save Rodrigo Diaz, my Christian champion stout;--\nI trow, if I had known thee, my grief it had been sore,\nTo curse Ruy Diaz de Bivar, God's scourge upon the Moor.\"\n\n\n\n\nPART III.\n\nCOUNT ALARCOS AND THE INFANTA SOLISA.\n\n\nMr. Bouterweck has analyzed this ballad, and commented upon it at some\nlength, in his History of Spanish Literature. See Book I, Section 1.\n\nHe bestows particular praise upon a passage, which the reader will find\nattempted in the fourth line of stanza xxxi. of the following version--\n\n\n  Dedes me aca este hijo amamare por despedida.\n\n\n\"What modern poet,\" says he, \"would have dared to imagine that _trait_,\nat once so natural and touching?\"\n\nMr. Bouterweck seems to be of opinion that the story of the ballad had\nbeen taken from some prose romance of chivalry; but I have not been able\nto find any trace of it.\n\n\nI.\nAlone, as was her wont, she sate,--within her bower alone;--\nAlone, and very desolate, Solisa made her moan,\nLamenting for her flower of life, that it should pass away,\nAnd she be never wooed to wife, nor see a bridal day.\n\n\nII.\nThus said the sad Infanta--\"I will not hide my grief,\nI'll tell my father of my wrong, and he will yield relief.\"--\nThe King, when he beheld her near, \"Alas! my child,\" said he,\n\"What means this melancholy cheer?--reveal thy grief to me.\"--\n\n\nIII.\n\"Good King,\" she said, \"my mother was buried long ago,\nShe left me to thy keeping, none else my griefs shall know;\nI fain would have a husband, 'tis time that I should wed,--\nForgive the words I utter, with mickle shame they're said.\"--\n\n\nIV.\n'Twas thus the King made answer,--\"This fault is none of mine,\nYou to the Prince of Hungary your ear would not incline;\nYet round us here where lives your peer?--nay, name him if you can,--\nExcept the Count Alarcos, and he's a married man.\"--\n\n\nV.\n\"Ask Count Alarcos, if of yore his word he did not plight\nTo be my husband evermore, and love me day and night?\nIf he has bound him in new vows, old oaths he cannot break--\nAlas! I've lost a loyal spouse, for a false lover's sake.\"--\n\n\nVI.\nThe good King sat confounded in silence for some space,\nAt length he made this answer, with very troubled face,--\n\"It was not thus your mother gave counsel you should do;\nYou've done much wrong, my daughter; we're shamed, both I and you.\n\n\nVII.\n\"If it be true that you have said, our honour's lost and gone;\nAnd while the Countess is in life, remeed for us is none.\nThough justice were upon our side, ill-talkers would not spare--\nSpeak, daughter, for your mother's dead, whose counsel eased my care.\"\n\n\nVIII.\n\"How can I give you counsel?--but little wit have I;\nBut certes, Count Alarcos may make this Countess die;\nLet it be noised that sickness cut short her tender life,\nAnd then let Count Alarcos come and ask me for his wife.\nWhat passed between us long ago, of that be nothing said;\nThus none shall our dishonour know, in honour I shall wed.\"--\n\n\nIX.\nThe Count was standing with his friends, thus in the midst he spake--\n\"What fools we be! what pains men dree for a fair woman's sake!\nI loved a fair one long ago;--though I'm a married man,\nSad memory I can ne'er forego, how life and love began.\"--\n\n\nX.\nWhile yet the Count was speaking, the good King came full near;\nHe made his salutation with very courteous cheer.\n\"Come hither, Count Alarcos, and dine with me this day,\nFor I have something secret I in your ear must say.\"--\n\n\nXI.\nThe King came from the chapel, when he had heard the mass;\nWith him the Count Alarcos did to his chamber pass;\nFull nobly were they served there, by pages many a one;\nWhen all were gone, and they alone, 'twas thus the King begun.--\n\n\nXII.\n\"What news be these, Alarcos, that you your word did plight,\nTo be a husband to my child, and love her day and night?\nIf more between you there did pass, yourself may know the truth,\nBut shamed is my grey-head--alas!--and scorned Solisa's youth.\n\n\nXIII.\n\"I have a heavy word to speak--a lady fair doth lie\nWithin my daughter's rightful place, and certes! she must die--\nLet it be noised that sickness cut short her tender life,\nThen come and woo my daughter, and she shall be your wife:--\nWhat passed between you long ago, of that be nothing said,\nThus, none shall my dishonour know--in honour you shall wed.\"\n\n\nXIV.\nThus spake the Count Alarcos--\"The truth I'll not deny,\nI to the Infanta gave my troth, and broke it shamefully;\nI feared my King would ne'er consent to give me his fair daughter;\nBut, oh! spare her that's innocent--avoid that sinful slaughter.\"--\n\n\nXV.\n\"She dies, she dies,\" the King replies; \"from thine own sin it springs,\nIf guiltless blood must wash the blot which stains the blood of kings:\nEre morning dawn her life must end, and thine must be the deed,\nElse thou on shameful block must bend: thereof is no remeed.\"\n\n\nXVI.\n\"Good King, my hand thou mayst command, else treason blots my name!\nI'll take the life of my dear wife--(God! mine be not the blame!)\nAlas! that young and sinless heart for others' sin should bleed!\nGood King, in sorrow I depart.\"----\"May God your errand speed!\"--\n\n\nXVII.\nIn sorrow he departed, dejectedly he rode\nThe weary journey from that place, unto his own abode;\nHe grieved for his fair Countess, dear as his life was she;\nSore grieved he for that lady, and for his children three.\n\n\nXVIII.\nThe one was yet an infant upon its mother's breast,\nFor though it had three nurses, it liked her milk the best;\nThe others were young children, that had but little wit,\nHanging about their mother's knee while nursing she did sit.\n\n\nXIX.\n\"Alas!\" he said, when he had come within a little space,\n\"How shall I brook the cheerful look of my kind lady's face?\nTo see her coming forth in glee to meet me in my hall,\nWhen she so soon a corpse must be, and I the cause of all!\"\n\n\nXX.\nJust then he saw her at the door with all her babes appear--\n(The little page had run before to tell his lord was near)\n\"Now welcome home, my lord, my life!--Alas! you droop your head\nTell, Count Alarcos, tell your wife, what makes your eyes so red?\"--\n\n\nXXI.\n\"I'll tell you all--I'll tell you all: It is not yet the hour;\nWe'll sup together in the hall--I'll tell you in your bower.\"\nThe lady brought forth what she had, and down beside him sate;\nHe sat beside her pale and sad, but neither drank nor ate.\n\n\nXXII.\nThe children to his side were led (he loved to have them so),\nThen on the board he laid his head, and out his tears did flow:--\n\"I fain would sleep--I fain would sleep,\"--the Count Alarcos said:--\nAlas! be sure, that sleep was none that night within their bed.\n\n\nXXIII.\nThey came together to the bower where they were used to rest,\nNone with them but the little babe that was upon the breast:\nThe Count had barred the chamber doors, they ne'er were barred till then;\n\"Unhappy lady,\" he began, \"and I most lost of men!\"\n\n\nXXIV.\n\"Now, speak not so, my noble lord, my husband and my life,\nUnhappy never can she be, that is Alarcos' wife.\"--\n\"Alas! unhappy lady, 'tis but little that you know,\nFor in that very word you've said is gathered all your woe.\n\n\nXXV.\n\"Long since I loved a lady,--long since I oaths did plight,\nTo be that lady's husband, to love her day and night;\nHer father is our lord the King, to him the thing is known,\nAnd now, that I the news should bring! she claims me for her own.\n\n\nXXVI.\n\"Alas! my love, alas! my life, the right is on their side;\nEre I had seen your face, sweet wife, she was betrothed my bride;\nBut, oh! that I should speak the word--since in her place you lie,\nIt is the bidding of our Lord, that you this night must die.\"--\n\n\nXXVII.\n\"Are these the wages of my love, so lowly and so leal?--\nO, kill me not, thou noble Count, when at thy foot I kneel!--\nBut send me to my father's house, where once I dwelt in glee,\nThere will I live a lone chaste life, and rear my children three.\"--\n\n\nXXVIII.\n\"It may not be--mine oath is strong--ere dawn of day you die!\"--\n\"O! well 'tis seen how all alone upon the earth am I--\nMy father is an old frail man,--my mother's in her grave,--\nAnd dead is stout Don Garcia--Alas! my brother brave!\n\n\nXXIX.\n\"'Twas at this coward King's command they slew my brother dear,\nAnd now I'm helpless in the land:--It is not death I fear,\nBut loth, loth am I to depart, and leave my children so--\nNow let me lay them to my heart, and kiss them ere I go.\"--\n\n\nXXX.\n\"Kiss him that lies upon thy breast--the rest thou mayst not see.\"--\n\"I fain would say an Ave.\"--\"Then say it speedily.\"--\nShe knelt her down upon her knee: \"O Lord! behold my case--\nJudge not my deeds, but look on me in pity and great grace.\"--\n\n\nXXXI.\nWhen she had made her orison, up from her knees she rose--\n\"Be kind, Alarcos, to our babes, and pray for my repose--\nAnd now give me my boy once more upon my breast to hold,\nThat he may drink one farewell drink, before my breast be cold.\"--\n\n\nXXXII.\n\"Why would you waken the poor child? you see he is asleep--\nPrepare, dear wife, there is no time, the dawn begins to peep.\"--\n\"Now hear me, Count Alarcos! I give thee pardon free--\nI pardon thee for the love's sake wherewith I've loved thee.\n\n\nXXXIII.\n\"But they have not my pardon, the King and his proud daughter--\nThe curse of God be on them, for this unchristian slaughter!--\nI charge them with my dying breath, ere thirty days be gone,\nTo meet me in the realm of death, and at God's awful throne!\"--\n\n\nXXXIV.\nHe drew a kerchief round her neck, he drew it tight and strong,\nUntil she lay quite stiff and cold her chamber floor along;\nHe laid her then within the sheets, and, kneeling by her side,\nTo God and Mary Mother in misery he cried.\n\n\nXXXV.\nThen called he for his esquires:--oh! deep was their dismay,\nWhen they into the chamber came, and saw her how she lay;--\nThus died she in her innocence, a lady void of wrong,\nBut God took heed of their offence--his vengeance stayed not long.\n\n\nXXXVI.\nWithin twelve days, in pain and dole, the Infanta passed away,\nThe cruel King gave up his soul upon the twentieth day;\nAlarcos followed ere the Moon had made her round complete.--\nThree guilty spirits stood right soon before God's judgment-seat.\n\n\n\n\nTALES FROM THE\nGESTA ROMANORUM.\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n      I.--THE EIGHT PENNIES            103\n     II.--THE THREE TRUTHS             105\n    III.--THE HUSBAND OF AGLAES        106\n     IV.--THE THREE CASKETS            111\n      V.--THE THREE CAKES              116\n     VI.--THE HERMIT                   118\n    VII.--THE LOST FOOT                121\n   VIII.--PLACIDUS                     122\n     IX.--DEAD ALEXANDER               131\n      X.--THE TREE OF PALETINUS        132\n     XI.--HUNGRY FLIES                 132\n    XII.--THE HUMBLING OF JOVINIAN     133\n   XIII.--THE TWO PHYSICIANS           139\n    XIV.--THE FALCON                   141\n     XV.--LET THE LAZIEST BE KING      142\n    XVI.--THE THREE MAXIMS             143\n   XVII.--A LOAF FOR A DREAM           146\n  XVIII.--LOWER THAN THE BEASTS        148\n    XIX.--OF REAL FRIENDSHIP           151\n     XX.--ROYAL BOUNTY                 152\n    XXI.--WILY BEGUILED                153\n   XXII.--THE BASILISK                 155\n  XXIII.--THE TRUMP OF DEATH           155\n   XXIV.--ALEXANDER AND THE PIRATE     157\n    XXV.--A TALE OF A PENNY            158\n   XXVI.--OF AVOIDING IMPRECATIONS     159\n  XXVII.--A VERSE EXERCISE             161\n XXVIII.--BRED IN THE BONE             164\n   XXIX.--FULGENTIUS                   167\n    XXX.--VENGEANCE DEFERRED           173\n\n\n\n\nI.--THE EIGHT PENNIES.\n\n\nWhen Titus was Emperor of Rome, he made a decree that the natal day of\nhis first-born son should be held sacred, and that whosoever violated it\nby any kind of labour should be put to death. Then he called Virgil to\nhim, and said, \"Good friend, I have made a certain law; we desire you to\nframe some curious piece of art which may reveal to us every transgressor\nof the law.\" Virgil constructed a magic statue, and caused it to be set\nup in the midst of the city. By virtue of the secret powers with which\nit was invested, it told the emperor whatever was done amiss. And thus\nby the accusation of the statue, an infinite number of persons were\nconvicted and punished.\n\nNow there was a certain carpenter, called Focus, who pursued his\noccupation every day alike. Once, as he lay in bed, his thoughts turned\nupon the accusations of the statue, and the multitudes which it had\ncaused to perish. In the morning he clothed himself, and proceeded to\nthe statue, which he addressed in the following manner: \"O statue!\nstatue! because of thy informations, many of our citizens have been\ntaken and slain. I vow to my God, that if thou accusest _me_, I will\nbreak thy head.\" Having so said, he returned home.\n\nAbout the first hour, the emperor, as he was wont, despatched sundry\nmessengers to the statue, to inquire if the edict had been strictly\ncomplied with. After they had arrived, and delivered the emperors\npleasure, the statue exclaimed: \"Friends, look up; what see ye written\nupon my forehead?\" They looked, and beheld three sentences which ran\nthus: \"TIMES ARE ALTERED. MEN GROW WORSE. HE WHO SPEAKS TRUTH HAS HIS\nHEAD BROKEN.\" \"Go,\" said the statue, \"declare to his majesty what you\nhave seen and read.\" The messengers obeyed, and detailed the\ncircumstances as they had happened.\n\nThe emperor therefore commanded his guard to arm, and march to the place\non which the statue was erected; and he further ordered, that if any one\npresumed to molest it, they should bind him hand and foot, and drag him\ninto his presence.\n\nThe soldiers approached the statue and said, \"Our emperor wills you to\ndeclare the name of the scoundrel who threatens you.\"\n\nThe statue made answer, \"It is Focus the carpenter. Every day he\nviolates the law, and, moreover, menaces me with a broken head, if I\nexpose him.\"\n\nImmediately Focus was apprehended, and conducted to the emperor, who\nsaid, \"Friend, what do I hear of thee? Why hast thou broken my law?\"\n\n\"My lord,\" answered Focus, \"I cannot keep it; for I am obliged to obtain\nevery day eight pennies, which, without incessant work, I have not the\nmeans of getting.\"\n\n\"And why eight pennies?\" said the emperor.\n\n\"Every day through the year,\" returned the carpenter, \"I am bound to\nrepay two pennies which I borrowed in my youth; two I lend; two I lose;\nand two I spend.\"\n\n\"For what reason do you this?\" asked the emperor.\n\n\"My lord,\" he replied, \"listen to me. I am bound each day to repay two\npennies to my father; for, when I was a boy, my father expended upon me\ndaily the like sum. Now he is poor, and needs my assistance, and\ntherefore I return what I borrowed formerly. Two other pennies I lend to\nmy son, who is pursuing his studies; in order, that if by any chance I\nshould fall into poverty, he may restore the loan, just as I have done\nto his grandfather. Again, I lose two pennies every day on my wife; for\nshe is contradictious, wilful, and passionate. Now, because of this\ndisposition, I account whatsoever is given to her entirely lost. Lastly,\ntwo other pennies I expend upon myself in meat and drink. I cannot do\nwith less, nor can I earn them without unremitting labour. You now know\nthe truth; and, I pray you, judge dispassionately and truly.\"\n\n\"Friend,\" said the emperor, \"thou hast answered well. Go, and labour\nearnestly in thy calling.\"\n\nSoon after this the emperor died, and Focus the carpenter, on account of\nhis singular wisdom, was elected in his stead by the unanimous choice of\nthe whole nation. He governed as wisely as he had lived; and at his\ndeath, his picture, bearing on the head eight pennies, was reposited\namong the effigies of the deceased emperors.\n\n\n\n\nII.--THE THREE TRUTHS.\n\n\nA certain king, named Asmodeus, established an ordinance, by which every\nmalefactor taken and brought before the judge, should distinctly declare\nthree truths, against which no exception could be taken, or else be\nhanged. If, however, he did this, his life and property should be safe.\nIt chanced that a certain soldier transgressed the law and fled. He hid\nhimself in a forest, and there committed many atrocities, despoiling\nand slaying whomsoever he could lay his hands upon. When the judge\nof the district ascertained his haunt, he ordered the forest to be\nsurrounded, and the soldier to be seized, and brought bound to the seat\nof judgment.\n\n\"You know the law,\" said the judge.\n\n\"I do,\" returned the other. \"If I declare three unquestionable truths I\nshall be free; but if not, I must die.\"\n\n\"True,\" replied the judge; \"take then advantage of the law's clemency,\nor undergo the punishment it awards without delay.\"\n\n\"Cause silence to be kept,\" said the soldier undauntedly.\n\nHis wish being complied with, he proceeded in the following manner: \"The\nfirst truth is this. I protest before ye all, that from my youth up, I\nhave been a bad man.\"\n\nThe judge, hearing this, said to the bystanders, \"He says true?\" They\nanswered: \"Else he had not now been in this situation.\" \"Go on, then,\"\nsaid the judge. \"What is the second truth?\"\n\n\"I like not,\" exclaimed he, \"the dangerous situation in which I stand.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said the judge, \"we may credit thee. Now then for the third\ntruth, and thou hast saved thy life.\"\n\n\"Why,\" he replied, \"if I once get out of this confounded place, I will\nnever willingly re-enter it.\"\n\n\"Amen,\" said the judge, \"thy wit hath preserved thee; go in peace.\" And\nthus he was saved.\n\n\n\n\nIII.--THE HUSBAND OF AGLAES.\n\n\nIn Rome some time dwelt a mighty emperor named Philominus, who had one\nonly daughter, who was fair and gracious in the sight of every man, who\nhad to name Aglaes. There was also in the emperor's palace a gentle\nknight that loved dearly this lady. It befell after on a day, that this\nknight talked with this lady, and secretly uttered his desire to her.\nThen she said courteously, \"Seeing you have uttered to me the secrets of\nyour heart, I will likewise for your love utter to you the secrets of my\nheart: and truly I say, that above all other I love you best.\" Then said\nthe knight, \"I purpose to visit the Holy Land, and therefore give me\nyour troth, that this seven years you shall take no other man, but only\nfor my love to tarry for me so long, and if I come not again by this day\nseven years, then take what man you like best. And likewise I promise\nyou that within this seven years I will take no wife.\" Then said she,\n\"This covenant pleaseth me well.\" When this was said, each of them was\nbetrothed to other, and then this knight took his leave of the lady, and\nwent to the Holy Land.\n\nShortly after the emperor treated with the king of Hungary for the\nmarriage of his daughter. Then came the king of Hungary to the emperor's\npalace, and when he had seen his daughter, he liked marvellous well her\nbeauty and her behaviour, so that the emperor and the king were accorded\nin all things as touching the marriage, upon the condition that the\ndamsel would consent. Then called the emperor the young lady to him, and\nsaid, \"O, my fair daughter, I have provided for thee, that a king shall\nbe thy husband, if thou list consent; therefore tell me what answer thou\nwilt give to this.\" Then said she to her father, \"It pleaseth me well;\nbut one thing, dear father, I entreat of you, if it might please you to\ngrant me: I have vowed to keep my virginity, and not to marry these\nseven years; therefore, dear father, I beseech you for all the love that\nis between your gracious fatherhood and me, that you name no man to be\nmy husband till these seven years be ended, and then I shall be ready in\nall things to fulfil your will.\" Then said the emperor, \"Sith it is so\nthat thou hast thus vowed, I will not break thy vow; but when these\nseven years be expired, thou shalt have the king of Hungary to thy\nhusband.\"\n\nThen the emperor sent forth his letters to the king of Hungary, praying\nhim if it might please him to stay seven years for the love of his\ndaughter, and then he should speed without fail. Herewith the king was\npleased and content to stay the prefixed day.\n\nAnd when the seven years were ended, save a day, the young lady stood in\nher chamber window, and wept sore, saying, \"Woe and alas, as to-morrow\nmy love promised to be with me again from the Holy Land; and also the\nking of Hungary to-morrow will be here to marry me, according to my\nfather's promise; and if my love comes not at a certain hour, then am I\nutterly deceived of the inward love I bear to him.\"\n\nWhen the day came, the king hasted toward the emperor, to marry his\ndaughter, and was royally arrayed in purple. And while the king was\nriding on his way, there came a knight riding on his way, who said, \"I\nam of the empire of Rome, and now am lately come from the Holy Land, and\nI am ready to do you the best service I can.\" And as they rode talking\nby the way, it began to rain so fast that all the king's apparel was\nsore wet. Then said the knight, \"My lord, ye have done foolishly, for as\nmuch as ye brought not with you your house.\" Then said the king: \"Why\nspeakest thou so? My house is large and broad, and made of stones and\nmortar, how should I bring then with me my house? Thou speakest like a\nfool.\" When this was said, they rode on till they came to a great deep\nwater, and the king smote his horse with his spurs, and leapt into the\nwater, so that he was almost drowned. When the knight saw this, and was\nover on the other side of the water without peril, he said to the king,\n\"Ye were in peril, and therefore ye did foolishly, because ye brought\nnot with you your bridge.\" Then said the king, \"Thou speakest strangely:\nmy bridge is made of lime and stone, and containeth in quality more\nthan half a mile; how should I then bear with me my bridge? therefore\nthou speakest foolishly.\" \"Well,\" said the knight, \"my foolishness may\nturn you to wisdom.\" When the king had ridden a little further, he asked\nthe knight what time of day it was. Then said the knight, \"If any man\nhath list to eat, it is time of the day to eat. Wherefore, my lord, pray\ntake a _modicum_ with me, for that is no dishonour to you, but great\nhonour to me before the states of this empire.\" Then said the king, \"I\nwill gladly eat with thee.\" They sat both down in a fair vine garden,\nand there dined together, both the king and the knight. And when dinner\nwas done, and that the king had washed, the knight said unto the king,\n\"My lord, ye have done foolishly, for that ye brought not with you your\nfather and mother.\" Then said the king, \"What sayest thou? My father is\ndead, and my mother is old, and may not travel; how should I then bring\nthem with me? Therefore, to say the truth, a foolisher man than thou art\ndid I never hear.\" Then said the knight, \"Every work is praised at the\nend.\"\n\nWhen the knight had ridden a little further, and nigh to the emperor's\npalace, he asked leave to go from him; for he knew a nearer way to the\npalace, to the young lady, that he might come first, and carry her away\nwith him. Then said the king, \"I pray thee tell me by what place thou\npurposest to ride?\" Then said the knight, \"I shall tell you the truth.\nThis day seven years I left a net in a place, and now I purpose to visit\nit, and draw it to me, and if it be whole, then will I take it to me,\nand keep it as a precious jewel; if it be broken, then will I leave it.\"\nAnd when he had thus said, he took his leave of the king, and rode\nforth; but the king kept the broad highway.\n\nWhen the emperor heard of the king's coming, he went towards him with a\ngreat company, and royally received him, causing him to shift his wet\nclothes, and to put on fresh apparel. And when the emperor and the king\nwere set at meat, the emperor welcomed him with all the cheer and\nsolace that he could. And when he had eaten, the emperor asked tidings\nof the king. \"My lord,\" said he, \"I shall tell you what I have heard\nthis day by the way: there came a knight to me, and reverently saluted\nme; and anon after there fell a great rain, and greatly spoiled my\napparel. And anon the knight said, 'Sir, ye have done foolishly, for\nthat ye brought not with you your house.'\" Then said the emperor, \"What\nclothing had the knight on?\" \"A cloak,\" quoth the king. Then said the\nemperor, \"Sure that was a wise man, for the house whereof he spake was a\ncloak, and therefore he said to you that you did foolishly, because had\nyou come with your cloak, then your clothes had not been spoiled with\nrain.\" Then said the king, \"When he had ridden a little further, we came\nto a deep water, and I smote my horse with my spurs, and I was almost\ndrowned, but he rid through the water without any peril. Then said he to\nme, 'You did foolishly, for that you brought not with you your bridge.'\"\n\"Verily,\" said the emperor, \"he said truth, for he called the squires\nthe bridge, that should have ridden before you, and assayed the deepness\nof the water.\" Then said the king, \"We rode further, and at the last he\nprayed me to dine with him. And when he had dined, he said, I did\nunwisely, because I brought not with me my father and mother.\" \"Truly,\"\nsaid the emperor, \"he was a wise man, and saith wisely: for he called\nyour father and mother, bread and wine, and other victual.\" Then said\nthe king, \"We rode further, and anon after he asked me leave to go from\nme, and I asked earnestly whither he went; and he answered again, and\nsaid, 'This day seven years I left a net in a private place, and now I\nwill ride to see it; and if it be broken and torn, then will I leave it,\nbut if it be as I left it, then shall it be unto me right precious.'\"\n\nWhen the emperor heard this, he cried with a loud voice, and said, \"O\nye my knights and servants, come ye with me speedily unto my daughter's\nchamber, for surely that is the net of which he spake.\" And forthwith\nhis knights and servants went unto his daughter's chamber, and found her\nnot, for the aforesaid knight had taken her with him. And thus the king\nwas deceived of the damsel, and he went home again to his own country\nashamed.\n\n\n\n\nIV.--THE THREE CASKETS.\n\n\nSome time dwelt in Rome a mighty emperor, named Anselm, who had married\nthe king's daughter of Jerusalem, a fair lady, and gracious in the sight\nof every man, but she was long time with the emperor ere she bare him\nany child; wherefore the nobles of the empire were very sorrowful,\nbecause their lord had no heir of his own body begotten: till at last it\nbefell, that this Anselm walked after supper, in an evening, into his\ngarden, and bethought himself that he had no heir, and how the king of\nAmpluy warred on him continually, for so much as he had no son to make\ndefence in his absence; therefore he was sorrowful, and went to his\nchamber and slept. Then he thought he saw a vision in his sleep, that\nthe morning was more clear than it was wont to be, and that the moon was\nmuch paler on the one side than on the other. And after he saw a bird of\ntwo colours, and by that bird stood two beasts, which fed that little\nbird with their heat. And after that came more beasts, and bowing their\nbreasts toward the bird, went their way. Then came there divers birds\nthat sung sweetly and pleasantly: with that the emperor awaked.\n\nIn the morning early this Anselm remembered his vision, and wondered\nmuch what it might signify; wherefore he called to him his philosophers,\nand all the states of the empire, and told them his dream, charging them\nto tell him the signification thereof on pain of death, and if they\ntold him the true interpretation thereof, he promised them good reward.\nThen said they, \"Dear lord, tell us your dream, and we shall declare to\nyou what it betokens.\" Then the emperor told them from the beginning to\nthe ending, as is aforesaid. When the philosophers heard this, with glad\ncheer they answered, and said, \"Sir, the vision that you saw betokeneth\ngood, for the empire shall be clearer than it is.\n\n\"The moon that is more pale on the one side than on the other, betokeneth\nthe empress, that hath lost part of her colour, through the conception\nof a son that she hath conceived. The little bird betokeneth the son\nthat she shall bare. The two beasts that fed this bird betoken the wise\nand rich men of the empire which shall obey the son. These other beasts\nthat bowed their breasts to the bird betoken many other nations that\nshall do him homage. The bird that sang so sweetly to this little bird\nbetokeneth the Romans, who shall rejoice and sing because of his birth.\nThis is the very interpretation of your dream.\"\n\nWhen the emperor heard this, he was right joyful. Soon after that, the\nempress travailed in childbirth, and was delivered of a fair son, at\nwhose birth there was great and wonderful joy made.\n\nWhen the king of Ampluy heard this, he thought in himself thus: \"Lo, I\nhave warred against the emperor all the days of my life, and now he hath\na son who, when he cometh to full age, will revenge the wrong I have\ndone against his father; therefore it is better that I send to the\nemperor and beseech him of truce and peace, that the son may have\nnothing against me when he cometh to manhood.\" When he had thus said to\nhimself, he wrote to the emperor, beseeching him to have peace. When the\nemperor saw that the king of Ampluy wrote to him more for fear than for\nlove, he wrote again to him, that if he would find good and sufficient\nsureties to keep the peace, and bind himself all the days of his life to\ndo him service and homage, he would receive him to peace.\n\nWhen the king had read the tenor of the emperor's letter, he called his\ncouncil, praying them to give him counsel how he best might do, as\ntouching this matter. Then said they, \"It is good that ye obey the\nemperor's will and commandment in all things. For first, in that he\ndesired of you surety for the peace; to this we answer thus: Ye have but\none daughter, and the emperor one son, wherefore let a marriage be made\nbetween them, and that may be a perpetual covenant of peace. Also he\nasketh homage and tribute, which it is good to fulfil.\" Then the king\nsent his messengers to the emperor, saying, that he would fulfil his\ndesire in all things, if it might please his highness that his son and\nthe king's daughter might be married together. All this well pleased the\nemperor, yet he sent again, saying, \"If his daughter were a pure maid\nfrom her birth unto that day, he would consent to that marriage.\" Then\nwas the king right glad, for his daughter was a pure maid.\n\nTherefore, when the letters of covenant and compact were sealed, the\nking furnished a fair ship, wherein he might send his daughter, with\nmany noble knights, ladies, and great riches, unto the emperor, for to\nhave his son in marriage.\n\nAnd when they were sailing in the sea, towards Rome, a storm arose so\nextremely and so horribly that the ship brake against a rock, and they\nwere all drowned save only the young lady, which fixed her hope and\nheart so greatly on God, that she was saved, and about three of the\nclock the tempest ceased, and the lady drove forth over the waves in\nthat broken ship which was cast up again. But a huge whale followed\nafter, ready to devour both the ship and her. Wherefore this young lady,\nwhen night came, smote fire with a stone, wherewith the ship was greatly\nlightened, and then the whale durst not adventure toward the ship for\nfear of that light. At the cock-crowing, this young lady was so weary of\nthe great tempest and trouble of sea, that she slept, and within a\nlittle while after the fire ceased, and the whale came and devoured the\nvirgin. And when she awaked and found herself swallowed up in the\nwhale's belly, she smote fire, and with a knife wounded the whale in\nmany places, and when the whale felt himself wounded, according to his\nnature he began to swim to land.\n\nThere was dwelling at that time in a country near by a noble earl named\nPirris, who for his recreation walking on the sea-shore, saw the whale\ncoming towards the land; wherefore he turned home again, and gathered a\ngreat many of men and women, and came thither again, and fought with the\nwhale, and wounded him very sore, and as they smote, the maiden that was\nin his belly cried with a high voice, and said: \"O gentle friends, have\nmercy and compassion on me, for I am a king's daughter, and a true maid\nfrom the hour of my birth unto this day.\" When the earl heard this he\nwondered greatly, and opened the side of the whale, and found the young\nlady, and took her out. And when she was thus delivered, she told him\nforthwith whose daughter she was, and how she had lost all her goods in\nthe sea, and how she should have been married unto the emperor's son.\nAnd when the earl heard this, he was very glad, and comforted her the\nmore, and kept her with him till she was well refreshed. And in the\nmeantime he sent messengers to the emperor, letting him to know how the\nking's daughter was saved.\n\nThen was the emperor right glad of her safety, and coming, had great\ncompassion on her, saying, \"Ah, good maiden, for the love of my son thou\nhast suffered much woe; nevertheless, if thou be worthy to be his wife,\nsoon shall I prove.\" And when he had thus said, he caused three vessels\nto be brought forth. The first was made of pure gold, well beset with\nprecious stones without, and within full of dead men's bones, and\nthereupon was engraven this posie: \"WHOSO CHOOSETH ME, SHALL FIND THAT\nHE DESERVETH.\" The second vessel was made of fine silver, filled with\nearth and worms, the superscription was thus: \"WHOSO CHOOSETH ME, SHALL\nFIND THAT HIS NATURE DESIRETH.\" The third vessel was made of lead, full\nwithin of precious stones, and thereupon was insculpt this posie: \"WHOSO\nCHOOSETH ME, SHALL FIND THAT GOD HATH DISPOSED FOR HIM.\" These three\nvessels the emperor showed the maiden, and said: \"Lo, here daughter,\nthese be rich vessels. If thou choose one of these, wherein is profit to\nthee and to others, then shalt thou have my son. And if thou choose that\nwherein is no profit to thee, nor to any other, soothly thou shalt not\nmarry him.\"\n\nWhen the maiden heard this, she lift up her hands to God, and said,\n\"Thou Lord, that knowest all things, grant me grace this hour so to\nchoose, that I may receive the emperor's son.\" And with that she beheld\nthe first vessel of gold, which was engraven royally, and read the\nsuperscription, \"_Whoso chooseth me, shall find that he deserveth_;\"\nsaying thus, \"Though this vessel be full precious, and made of pure\ngold, nevertheless I know not what is within, therefore, my dear lord,\nthis vessel will I not choose.\"\n\nAnd then she beheld the second vessel, that was of pure silver, and read\nthe superscription, \"_Whoso chooseth me, shall find that his nature\ndesireth._\" Thinking thus within herself, \"If I choose this vessel, what\nis within I know not, but well I know, there shall I find that nature\ndesireth, and my nature desireth the lust of the flesh, and therefore\nthis vessel will I not choose.\"\n\nWhen she had seen these two vessels, and had given an answer as touching\nthem, she beheld the third vessel of lead, and read the superscription,\n\"_Whoso chooseth me, shall find that God hath disposed._\" Thinking\nwithin herself, \"This vessel is not very rich, nor outwardly precious,\nyet the superscription saith, \"_Whoso chooseth me, shall find that God\nhath disposed_;\" and without doubt God never disposeth any harm,\ntherefore, by the leave of God, this vessel will I choose.\"\n\nWhen the emperor heard this, he said, \"O fair maiden, open thy vessel,\nfor it is full of precious stones, and see if thou hast well chosen or\nno.\" And when this young lady had opened it, she found it full of fine\ngold and precious stones, as the emperor had told her before. Then said\nthe emperor, \"Daughter, because thou hast well chosen, thou shalt marry\nmy son.\" And then he appointed the wedding-day; and they were married\nwith great solemnity, and with much honour continued to their lives'\nend.\n\n\n\n\nV.--THE THREE CAKES.\n\n\nA certain carpenter, in a city near the sea, very covetous, and very\nwicked, collected a large sum of money, and placed it in the trunk of a\ntree, which he set by his fire-side, and never lost sight of. A place\nlike this, he thought, no one could suspect: but it happened, that while\nall his household slept, the sea overflowed its boundaries, broke down\nthat side of the building where the log was placed, and carried it away.\nIt floated many miles, and reached, at length, a city in which there\nlived a person who kept open house. Arising early in the morning, he\nperceived the trunk of a tree in the water, and thinking it would be of\nuse to him, he brought it home. He was a liberal, kind-hearted man; and\na great benefactor to the poor. It one day chanced that he entertained\nsome pilgrims in his house; and the weather being extremely cold, he cut\nup the log for firewood. When he had struck two or three blows with the\naxe, he heard a rattling sound; and cleaving it in twain, the gold\npieces rolled out and about. Greatly rejoiced at the discovery, he put\nthem by in a safe place, until he should ascertain who was the owner.\n\nNow the carpenter, bitterly lamenting the loss of his money, travelled\nfrom place to place in pursuit of it. He came, by accident, to the house\nof the hospitable man who had found the trunk. He failed not to mention\nthe object of his search; and the host, understanding that the money was\nhis, reflected whether his title to it were good. \"I will prove,\" said\nhe to himself, \"if God will that the money should be returned to him.\"\n\nAccordingly, he made three cakes, the first of which he filled with\nearth; the second with the bones of dead men; and in the third he put a\nquantity of the gold which he had discovered in the trunk.\n\n\"Friend,\" said he, addressing the carpenter, \"we will eat three cakes\nmade of the best meat in my house. Choose which you will have.\"\n\nThe carpenter did as he was directed; he took the cakes and weighed them\nin his hand, one after another, and finding that with the earth weigh\nheaviest, he chose it. \"And if I want more, my worthy host,\" added he,\n\"I will have that\"--laying his hand upon the cake containing the bones.\n\"You may keep the third cake yourself.\"\n\n\"I see clearly,\" murmured the host, \"I see very clearly that God does\nnot will the money to be restored to this wretched man.\" Calling\ntherefore the poor and the infirm, the blind and the lame, he opened the\ncake of gold in the presence of the carpenter, to whom he spoke, \"Thou\nmiserable varlet; this is thine own gold. But thou preferredst the cake\nof earth, and dead men's bones. I am persuaded, therefore, that God\nwills not that I return thee thy money.\" Without delay, he distributed\nit all amongst the poor, and drove the carpenter away.\n\n\n\n\nVI.--THE HERMIT.\n\n\nThere once lived a hermit, who in a remote cave passed day and night\nin God's service. Not far from his cell there was a flock kept by a\nshepherd, who one day fell into a deep sleep, when a robber, seeing him\ncareless, carried off his sheep. When the keeper awoke, he began to\nswear in good set terms that he had lost his sheep; and where they were\ngone to he knew not. But the lord of the flock bade him be put to death.\nThis gave to the hermit great offence. \"O heaven,\" said he to himself,\n\"seest thou this deed? The innocent suffers for the guilty: why permittest\nthou such things? If thus injustice triumph, why do I remain here? I\nwill again enter the world, and do as other men do.\"\n\nAnd so he left his hermitage, and went again into the world; but God\nwilled not that he should be lost: an angel in the form of a man was\nsent to join him. And so, crossing the hermit's path, he said to him,\n\"Whither bound, my friend?\" \"I go,\" said he, \"to yonder city.\" \"I will\ngo with you,\" replied the angel; \"I am a messenger from heaven, come to\nbe your companion on the way.\"\n\nSo they walked on together to the city. When they had entered, they\nbegged for the love of God harbourage during the night, at the house of\na certain soldier, who received them cheerfully and entertained them\nnobly. The soldier had an only and most dear son lying in the cradle.\nAfter supper, their bed-chamber was sumptuously adorned for them; and\nthe angel and the hermit went to rest. But about the middle of the\nnight the angel rose, and strangled the sleeping infant. The hermit,\nhorror-struck at what he witnessed, said within himself, \"Never can\nthis be an angel of God. The good soldier gave us everything that was\nnecessary; he had but this poor innocent, and he is strangled.\" Yet he\nwas afraid to reprove him.\n\nIn the morning both arose and went forward to another city, in which\nthey were honourably entertained at the house of one of the inhabitants.\nThis person had a rich gold cup, which he highly valued; and of which,\nduring the night, the angel robbed him. But still the hermit held his\npeace, for great was his fear.\n\nOn the morrow they went forward; and as they walked they came to a\ncertain river, over which was a bridge. They went on the bridge, and\nabout midway a poor pilgrim met them. \"My friend,\" said the angel to\nhim, \"show us the way to yonder city.\" The pilgrim turned, and pointed\nwith his finger to the road they were to take; but as he turned the\nangel seized him by the shoulders, and hurled him into the stream below.\nAt this the terror of the hermit became greater. \"It is the devil,\" he\nsaid to himself; \"it is the devil, and no good angel! What evil had the\npoor man done that he should be drowned?\"\n\nHe would now have gladly gone alone; but was afraid to speak his mind.\nAbout the hour of vespers they came to a city, in which they again\nsought shelter for the night; but the master of the house where they\napplied sharply refused it. \"For the love of heaven,\" said the angel,\n\"give us shelter, lest we fall prey to the wolves.\" The man pointed to a\nsty. \"That,\" said he, \"has pigs in it; if it please you to lie there you\nmay, but to no other place will I admit you.\" \"If we can do no better,\"\nsaid the angel, \"we must accept your ungracious offer.\" They did so; and\nnext morning the angel calling their host, said, \"My friend, I give you\nthis cup;\" and he gave him the gold cup he had stolen. The hermit, more\nand more amazed at what he saw, said to himself, \"Now I am sure this is\nthe devil. The good man who received us with all kindness he despoiled,\nand now he gives the plunder to this fellow who refused us a lodging.\"\n\nTurning therefore to the angel, he cried, \"I will travel with you no\nmore. I commend you to God.\" \"Dear friend,\" the angel said, \"first hear\nme, and then go thy way.\"\n\n\nTHE EXPLANATION.\n\n\"When thou wert in thy hermitage, the owner of the flock unjustly put to\ndeath his servant. True it is he died innocently, and therefore was\nin a fit state to enter another world. God permitted him to be slain,\nforeseeing, that if he lived he would commit a sin, and die before\nrepentance followed. But the guilty man who stole the sheep will suffer\neternally; while the owner of the flock will repair, by alms and good\nworks, that which he ignorantly committed. As for the son of the\nhospitable soldier whom I strangled in the cradle, know, that before the\nboy was born he performed numerous works of charity and mercy; but\nafterwards grew parsimonious and covetous in order to enrich the child,\nof which he was inordinately fond. This was the cause of its death; and\nnow its distressed parent is again become a devout Christian. Then for\nthe cup which I purloined from him who received us so kindly, know, that\nbefore the cup was made, there was not a more abstemious person in the\nworld; but afterwards he took such pleasure in it, and drank from it so\noften, that he was intoxicated twice or thrice during the day. I took\naway the cup, and he has returned to his former sobriety. Again I cast\nthe pilgrim into the river; and know that he whom I drowned was a good\nChristian, but had he proceeded much further, he would have fallen into\na mortal sin. Now he is saved, and reigns in celestial glory. Then, that\nI bestowed the cup upon the inhospitable citizen, know nothing is done\nwithout reason. He suffered us to occupy the swine-house and I gave him\na valuable consideration. But _he_ will hereafter reign in hell. Put a\nguard, therefore, on thy lips, and detract not from the Almighty. For He\nknoweth all things.\"\n\nThe hermit, hearing this, fell at the feet of the angel and entreated\npardon. He returned to his hermitage, and became a good and pious\nChristian.\n\n\n\n\nVII.--THE LOST FOOT.\n\n\nA certain tyrannical and cruel knight retained in his service a very\nfaithful servant. One day, when he had been to the market, he returned\nwith this servant through a grove; and by the way lost thirty silver\nmarks. As soon as he discovered the loss, he questioned his servant\nabout it. The man solemnly denied all knowledge of the matter, and he\nspoke truth. But when the money was not to be found, he cut off the\nservant's foot, and leaving him in that place, rode home. A hermit,\nhearing the groans and cries of the man, went speedily to his help. He\nconfessed him; and being satisfied of his innocence, conveyed him upon\nhis shoulders to his hermitage.\n\nThen entering the oratory, he dared to reproach the All-just with want\nof justice, inasmuch as he had permitted an innocent man to lose his\nfoot.\n\nFor a length of time he continued in tears, and prayers, and reproaches;\nuntil at last an angel of the Lord appeared to him, and said, \"Hast thou\nnot read in the Psalms, 'God is a just judge, strong and patient?'\"\n\n\"Often,\" answered the hermit meekly, \"have I read and believed it from\nmy heart; but to-day I have erred. That wretched man, whose foot has\nbeen cut off, perhaps under the veil of confession deceived me.\"\n\n\"Tax not the Lord with injustice,\" said the angel; \"His way is truth,\nand His judgments equitable. Recollect how often thou hast read, 'The\ndecrees of God are unfathomable.' Know that he who lost his foot, lost\nit for a former crime. With the same foot he maliciously spurned his\nmother, and cast her from a chariot--for which eternal condemnation\novertook him. The knight, his master, was desirous of purchasing a\nwar-horse, to collect more wealth, to the destruction of his soul; and\ntherefore, by the just sentence of God, the money which he had provided\nfor the purchase was lost. Now hear; there is a very poor man with his\nwife and little ones, who daily supplicate heaven, and perform every\nreligious exercise. He found the money, when otherwise he would have\nstarved, and therewith procured for himself and family the necessaries\nof life, entrusting a portion to his confessor to distribute to the\npoor. But first he diligently endeavoured to find out the right owner.\nNot accomplishing this, the poor man applied it to its proper use. Place\nthen a bridle upon thy thoughts; and no more upbraid the righteous\nDisposer of all things, as thou but lately didst. For he is just, and\nstrong, and patient.\"\n\n\n\n\nVIII.--PLACIDUS.\n\n\nIn the reign of Trajan there lived a knight named Placidus, who was\ncommander-in-chief of the emperor's armies. He was very merciful, but a\nworshipper of idols. His wife too was an idolater. They had two sons,\nbrought up in all magnificence, and from the kindness and goodness of\ntheir hearts, they deserved a revelation of the way of truth.\n\nAs he was one day following the chase, Placidus discovered a herd of\ndeer, amongst which was one remarkable for size and beauty. Separating\nitself from the rest, it plunged into the thickest part of the brake.\nWhile the hunters, therefore, occupied themselves with the remainder of\nthe herd, Placidus swiftly followed this deer's track. The stag scaled\na lofty precipice, and Placidus, approaching as near as he could,\nconsidered how it might be followed yet. But as he regarded it with\nfixed attention, there appeared upon the centre of the brow, the form of\nthe cross, which glittered with more splendour than the noonday sun.\nUpon this cross an image of Jesus Christ was suspended; and the stag\nthus addressed the hunter: \"Why dost thou persecute me, Placidus? For\nthy sake have I assumed the shape of this animal. I am Christ, whom thou\nignorantly worshippest. Thine alms have gone up before me, and therefore\nI come; but as thou hast hunted this stag, so will I hunt thee.\"\n\nSome indeed assert that the image, hanging between the deer's antlers,\nsaid these things. However that may be, Placidus, filled with terror,\nfell from his horse; and in about an hour, returning to himself, arose\nfrom the earth and said, \"Declare what thou wouldst have, that I may\nbelieve in thee.\"\n\n\"I am Christ, O Placidus! I created heaven and earth; I caused the light\nto arise, and divided it from the darkness. I appointed days, and\nseasons, and years. I formed man out of the dust of the earth; and I\nbecame incarnate for the salvation of mankind. I was crucified, and\nburied; and on the third day I rose again.\"\n\nWhen Placidus understood these sublime truths, he fell again upon the\nearth, and exclaimed: \"I believe, O Lord, that thou hast done all this;\nand that thou art He who bringest back the wanderer.\"\n\nThe Lord answered: \"If thou believest this, go into the city and be\nbaptized.\"\n\n\"Wouldst thou, O Lord, that I tell what has befallen me to my wife and\nchildren, that they also may believe?\"\n\n\"Do so; tell them, that they also may be cleansed from their iniquities.\nAnd on the morrow return hither, where I will appear again, and show you\nof the future.\"\n\nPlacidus, therefore, went to his own home, and told all that had passed\nto his wife. But she too had had a revelation; and in like manner had\nbeen enjoined to believe in Christ, together with her children. So they\nhastened to the city of Rome, where they were entertained and baptized\nwith great joy. Placidus was called Eustacius, and his wife, Theosbyta;\nthe two sons, Theosbytus and Agapetus.\n\nIn the morning, Eustacius, according to custom, went out to hunt, and\ncoming with his attendants near the place, he dispersed them, as if for\nthe purpose of discovering the prey. Immediately the vision of yesterday\nreappeared, and prostrating himself, he said, \"I implore thee, O Lord,\nto manifest thyself according to thy word.\"\n\n\"Blessed art thou, Eustacius, because thou hast received the laver of\nmy grace, and thereby overcome the devil. Now hast thou trod him to\ndust, who beguiled thee. Now will thy fidelity appear; for the devil,\nwhom thou hast deserted, will rage against thee in many ways. Much must\nthou undergo ere thou possessest the crown of victory. Much must thou\nsuffer from the dignified vanity of the world; and much from spiritual\nintolerance. Fail not, therefore; nor look back upon thy former\ncondition. Thou must be as another Job; but from the very depth of thy\nhumiliation, I will restore thee to the height of earthly splendour.\nChoose, then, whether thou wouldst prefer thy trials at the end of\nlife.\"\n\nEustacius replied: \"If it become me, O Lord, to be exposed to trials,\nlet them presently approach; but do thou uphold me, and supply me with\npatient strength.\"\n\n\"Be bold, Eustacius: my grace shall support your souls.\" Saying thus,\nthe Lord ascended into heaven. After which Eustacius returned home to\nhis wife, and explained to her what had been decreed.\n\nIn a few days a pestilence carried off the whole of their men-servants\nand maid-servants; and before long the sheep, horses, and cattle also\nperished. Robbers plundered their habitation, and despoiled them of\nevery ornament; while he himself, together with his wife and sons, fled\nnaked and in the deepest distress. But devoutly they worshipped God; and\napprehensive of an Egyptian redness, went secretly away. Thus were they\nreduced to utter poverty. The king and the senate, greatly afflicted\nwith their general's calamities, sought for, but found not the slightest\ntrace of him.\n\nIn the meantime this unhappy family approached the sea; and finding a\nship ready to sail, they embarked in it. The master of the vessel\nobserving that the wife of Eustacius was very beautiful, determined to\nsecure her; and when they had crossed the sea, demanded a large sum of\nmoney for their passage, which, as he anticipated, they did not possess.\nNotwithstanding the vehement and indignant protestations of Eustacius,\nhe seized upon his wife; and beckoning to the mariners, commanded them\nto cast the unfortunate husband headlong into the sea. Perceiving,\ntherefore, that all opposition was useless, he took up his two children,\nand departed with much and heavy sorrow. \"Merciful heaven,\" he exclaimed,\nas he wept over his bereaved offspring, \"your poor mother is lost; and,\nin a strange land, in the arms of a strange lord, must lament her fate.\"\n\nTravelling along, he came to a river, the water of which ran so high,\nthat it appeared hazardous in an eminent degree to cross with both the\nchildren at the same time. One, therefore, he placed carefully upon the\nbank, and then passed over with the other in his arms. This effected, he\nlaid it upon the ground, and returned immediately for the remaining\nchild. But in the midst of the river, accidentally glancing his eye\nback, he beheld a wolf hastily snatch up the child, and run with it into\nan adjoining wood. Half maddened at a sight so truly afflicting, he\nturned to rescue it from the destruction with which it was threatened;\nbut at that instant a huge lion approached the child he had left; and\nseizing it, presently disappeared. To follow was useless, for he was in\nthe middle of the water. Giving himself up, therefore, to his desperate\nsituation, he began to lament and to pluck away his hair, and would have\ncast himself into the stream, had not Divine Providence preserved him.\n\nCertain shepherds, however, observing the lion carrying off the child in\nhis teeth, pursued him with dogs, and by the peculiar dispensation of\nheaven it was dropped unhurt. As for the other, some ploughmen witnessing\nthe adventure, shouted lustily after the wolf, and succeeded in\nliberating the poor victim from its jaws. Now it happened that both the\nshepherds and ploughmen resided in the same village, and brought up the\nchildren amongst them. But Eustacius knew nothing of this, and his\naffliction was so poignant that he was unable to control his complaints.\n\"Alas!\" he would say, \"once I nourished like a luxuriant tree, but now I\nam altogether blighted. Once I was encompassed with military ensigns and\nbands of armed men; now I am a single being in the universe. I have lost\nall my children and everything that I possessed. I remember, O Lord,\nthat thou saidst my trials should resemble Job's; behold they exceed\nthem. For although he was destitute, he had a couch, however vile, to\nrepose upon; I, alas! have nothing. He had compassionating friends;\nwhile I, besides the loss of my children, am left a prey to the savage\nbeasts. His wife remained, but mine is forcibly carried off. Assuage my\nanguish, O Lord, and place a bridle upon my lips, lest I utter\nfoolishness, and stand up against thee.\" With such words he gave free\ncourse to the fulness of his heart; and after much travel, entered a\nvillage, where he abode. In this place he continued for fifteen years,\nas the hired servant of one of the villagers.\n\nTo return to the two boys. They were educated in the same\nneighbourhood, but had no knowledge of their consanguinity. And as for\nthe wife of Eustacius, she preserved her purity, and suffered not the\ninfamous usage which she had to fear. After some time her persecutor\ndied.\n\nIn the meanwhile the Roman emperor was beset by his enemies, and\nrecollecting how valiantly Placidus had behaved himself in similar\nstraits, his grief at the deplorable change of fortune was renewed. He\ndespatched soldiers through various parts of the world in pursuit of\nthem; and promised to the discoverer infinite rewards and honours. It\nhappened that some of the emissaries, being of those who had attended\nupon the person of Placidus, came into the country in which he laboured,\nand one of them he recognized by his gait. The sight of these men\nbrought back to the exile's mind the situation of wealth and honour\nwhich he had once possessed; and being filled with fresh trouble at the\nrecollection--\"O Lord!\" he exclaimed, \"even as beyond expectation I have\nseen these people again, so let me be restored to my beloved wife. Of my\nchildren I speak not; for I know too well that they are devoured by wild\nbeasts.\"\n\nAt that moment a voice whispered, \"Be faithful, Eustacius, and thou wilt\nshortly recover thy lost honours, and again look upon thy wife and\noffspring.\"\n\nNow when the soldiers met Placidus they knew not who he was; and\naccosting him, they asked if he were acquainted with any foreigner named\nPlacidus, with his wife and two sons. He replied that he did not, but\nrequested that they would rest in his house. And so he took them home,\nand waited on them. And here, as before, at the recollection of his\nformer splendour, his tears flowed. Unable to contain himself, he\nwent out of doors, and when he had washed his face he re-entered, and\ncontinued his service. By-and-by one said to the other, \"Surely this man\nbears great resemblance to him we inquire after.\" \"Of a truth,\" answered\nhis companion, \"you say well. Let us examine if he possess a sabre-mark\non his head, which he received in action.\" They did so, and finding a\nscar which indicated a similar wound, they leaped up and embraced him,\nand inquired after his wife and sons.\n\nHe told his adventures; and the neighbours coming in, listened with\nwonder to the account delivered by the soldiers of his military\nachievements and former magnificence. Then, obeying the command of the\nemperor, they clothed him in sumptuous apparel. On the fifteenth day\nthey reached the imperial court, and the emperor, apprised of his\ncoming, went out to meet him, and saluted him with great gladness.\nEustacius told all that had befallen him. He was then invested with the\ncommand of the army, and restored to every office that he had held\nbefore his departure.\n\nHe now therefore prepared with energy to encounter their enemies. He\ndrew together from all parts the young men of the country; and it fell\nto the lot of the village where his own children were educated, to send\ntwo to the army; and these very youths were selected by the inhabitants\nas the best and bravest of their number. They appeared before the\ngeneral, and their elegant manners, so much above their station, united\nto a singular propriety of conduct, won his esteem. He placed them in\nthe van of his troops, and began his march against the enemy. Now the\nspot on which he pitched his tent was near his wife's abode; and,\nstrange to say, the sons themselves, in the general distribution of the\nsoldiers, were quartered with their own mother, but all the while\nignorant with whom they were stationed.\n\nAbout mid-day, the lads sitting together, related the various chances to\nwhich their infancy had been subject; and the mother, who was at no\ngreat distance, became an attentive listener. \"Of what I was while a\nchild,\" said the elder of the brothers, \"I remember nothing, except\nthat my beloved father was a leader of a company of soldiers; and that\nmy mother, who was very beautiful, had two sons, of whom I was the\nelder. We left home with our parents during the night, and embarking on\nboard a vessel that immediately put to sea, sailed I know not whither.\nOur mother remained in the ship, but wherefore I am also ignorant. In\nthe meantime, our father carried my brother and myself in his arms, and\nme he left upon the nearer bank of a river, until he had borne the\nyounger of us across. But when he was returning to me, a wolf darted\nfrom a thicket and bore him off in his mouth. Before he could hasten\nback to him, a prodigious lion seized upon me, and carried me into a\nneighbouring wood. But shepherds delivered me, and brought me up amongst\nthem.\"\n\nThe younger brother here burst into a flood of tears, and exclaimed,\n\"Surely I have found my brother; for they who brought me up frequently\ndeclared that I was saved from the jaws of a wolf.\" They exchanged\nembraces, and the mother, who listened, felt a strong conviction that\nthey were her own children. She was silent, however, and the next day\nwent to the commander of the forces, and begged leave to go into her own\ncountry. \"I am a Roman woman,\" said she, \"and a stranger in these\nparts.\"\n\nAs she uttered these words, her eye fixed with an earnest and anxious\ngaze upon the countenance of him she addressed. It was her husband, whom\nshe now for the first time recollected; and she threw herself at his\nfeet, unable to contain her joy. \"My lord,\" cried the glad woman, \"I\nentreat you to tell something of your past life; for unless I greatly\nmistake, you are Placidus, the master of the soldiery, since known by\nthe name of Eustacius, whom our blessed Saviour converted and tried by\ntemptations. I am _his_ wife, taken from him at sea by a wretch, who yet\nspared me from the worst. I had two sons, Agapetus and Theosbytus.\"\n\nThese words recalled Eustacius to himself. Time and sorrow had made much\nchange in both, but the recognition was full of happiness. They embraced\nand wept, giving glory to God as the God of all consolation. The wife\nthen said, \"My lord, what has become of our children?\" \"Alas!\" replied\nhe, \"they were carried off by wild beasts;\" and he told the manner of\ntheir loss. \"Give thanks,\" said his wife, \"give manifold thanks to the\nLord; for as His Providence hath revealed our existence to each other,\nso will He give us back our beloved offspring.\" \"Did I not tell you,\"\nreturned he, \"that wild beasts had devoured them?\"\n\n\"True; but yesternight as I sat in the garden I overheard two young men\ntell of their childhood, and whom I believe to be our sons. Ask them,\nand they will tell you.\"\n\nMessengers were immediately despatched for this purpose, and a few\nquestions convinced Eustacius of the full completion of his happiness.\nThey fell upon each other's neck and wept aloud. It was a joyful\noccasion; the whole army shared the joy of their general. A splendid\nvictory ensued. Before their return the Emperor Trajan died, and was\nsucceeded by Adrian, more wicked even than his predecessor. However, he\nreceived the conqueror and his family with great magnificence, and\nsumptuously entertained them at his own table. But the day following the\nemperor would have proceeded to the temple of his idols to sacrifice, in\nconsequence of the late victory, and desired his guests to accompany\nhim. \"My lord,\" said Eustacius, \"I worship the God of the Christians;\nand Him only do I serve and propitiate with sacrifice.\"\n\nEnraged at an opposition he had not contemplated, he placed the man who\nhad freed Rome from a foreign yoke, with his whole family, in the arena,\nand let loose a ferocious lion upon them. But the lion, to the\nastonishment of all, held down his head before them, as if in reverence.\nOn which the ungrateful emperor ordered a brazen ox to be fabricated,\nand heated to the highest degree. In this his victims were cast alive;\nbut with prayer and supplication they commended themselves to the mercy\nof God, and three days after, being taken out of the furnace in the\npresence of the emperor, it appeared as if they had died tranquilly\nin bed. Not a hair of their heads was scorched, nor was there the\nsmallest perceptible change, more than the easiest transition from life\noccasions. The Christians buried their corpses in the most honourable\nmanner, and over them constructed an oratory. They perished in the first\nyear of Adrian, A.D. 120, in the kalends of November; or, as some write,\nthe 12th of the kalends of October.\n\n\n\nIX.--DEAD ALEXANDER.\n\n\nWe read, that at the death of Alexander a golden sepulchre was\nconstructed, and that a number of philosophers assembled round it. One\nsaid: \"Yesterday, Alexander made a treasure of gold, and now gold makes\na treasure of him.\" Another observed: \"Yesterday, the whole world was\nnot enough to satiate his ambition; to-day, three or four ells of cloth\nare more than sufficient.\" A third said: \"Yesterday, Alexander commanded\nthe people; to-day, the people command him.\" Another said: \"Yesterday,\nAlexander could enfranchise thousands; to-day, he cannot free himself\nfrom the bonds of death.\" Another remarked: \"Yesterday, he pressed the\nearth; to-day, it oppresses him.\" \"Yesterday,\" continued another, \"all\nmen feared Alexander; to-day, men repute him nothing.\" Another said:\n\"Yesterday, Alexander had a multitude of friends; to-day, not one.\"\nAnother said: \"Yesterday, Alexander led on an army; to-day that army\nbears him to the grave.\"\n\n\n\n\nX.--THE TREE OF PALETINUS.\n\n\nValerius tells us, that a man named Paletinus one day burst into tears;\nand calling his son and his neighbours around him, said, \"Alas! alas! I\nhave now growing in my garden a fatal tree, on which my first poor wife\nhung herself, then my second, and after that my third. Have I not\ntherefore cause for wretchedness?\" \"Truly,\" said one who was called\nArrius, \"I marvel that you should weep at such unusual good fortune!\nGive me, I pray you, two or three sprigs of that gentle tree, which I\nwill divide with my neighbours, and thereby enable every man to indulge\nhis spouse.\" Paletinus complied with his friend's request; and ever\nafter found this tree the most productive part of his estate.\n\n\n\n\nXI.--HUNGRY FLIES.\n\n\nJosephus mentions that Tiberius Caesar, inquiring why the governors of\nprovinces remain so long in office, was answered by an example. \"I have\nseen,\" said the respondent, \"an infirm man covered with ulcers,\ngrievously tormented by a swarm of flies. When asked why he did not use\na flap and drive off his tormentors, he answered, 'The very circumstance\nwhich you think would relieve me would, in effect, cause tenfold\nsuffering. For by driving away the flies now saturated with my blood, I\nshould afford an opportunity to those that were empty and hungry to\nsupply their place. And who doubts that the biting of a hungry insect is\nten thousand times more painful than that of one completely gorged,\nunless the person attacked be stone, and not flesh.'\"\n\n\n\n\nXII.--THE HUMBLING OF JOVINIAN.\n\n\nWhen Jovinian was emperor, he had very great power, and as he lay in bed\nreflecting upon the extent of his dominions, his heart was elated.\n\n\"Is there,\" he impiously asked, \"is there any other god than me?\" Amid\nsuch thoughts he fell asleep.\n\nIn the morning, he reviewed his troops, and said, \"My friends, after\nbreakfast we will hunt.\"\n\nPreparations being made accordingly, he set out with a large retinue.\nDuring the chase, the emperor felt such extreme oppression from the\nheat, that he believed his very existence depended upon a cold bath. As\nhe anxiously looked around, he discovered a sheet of water at no great\ndistance. \"Remain here,\" said he to his guard, \"until I have refreshed\nmyself in yonder stream.\" Then spurring his steed, he rode hastily to\nthe edge of the water. Alighting, he stripped off his clothes, and\nexperienced the greatest pleasure from its invigorating freshness and\ncoolness. But whilst he was thus employed, a person similar to him in\nevery respect--in countenance and gesture--arrayed himself unperceived\nin the emperor's dress, and then mounting his horse, rode off to the\nattendants. The resemblance to the sovereign was such, that no doubt was\nentertained of the reality; and straightway command was issued for their\nreturn to the palace.\n\nJovinian, however, having quitted the water, sought in every possible\ndirection for his horse and clothes, and to his utter astonishment,\ncould find neither. Vexed beyond measure at the circumstance (for he was\ncompletely naked, and saw no one near to assist him) he began to reflect\nupon what course he should pursue. \"Miserable man that I am,\" said he,\n\"to what a strait am I reduced! There is, I remember, a knight who\nlives close by; I will go to him, and command his attendance and\nservice. I will then ride on to the palace and strictly investigate the\ncause of this extraordinary conduct. Some shall smart for it.\"\n\nJovinian proceeded, naked and ashamed, to the castle of the aforesaid\nknight, and beat loudly at the gate. The porter, without unclosing the\nwicket, inquired the cause of the knocking. \"Open the gate,\" said the\nenraged emperor, \"and you will see who I am.\" The gate was opened; and\nthe porter, struck with the strange appearance he exhibited, replied,\n\"In the name of all that is marvellous, what are you?\" \"I am,\" said he,\n\"Jovinian, your emperor; go to your lord, and command him from me to\nsupply the wants of his sovereign. I have lost both horse and clothes.\"\n\"Infamous ribald!\" shouted the porter, \"just before thy approach, the\nEmperor Jovinian, accompanied by the officers of his household, entered\nthe palace. My lord both went and returned with him; and but even now\nsat with him at meat. But because thou hast called thyself the emperor,\nhowever madly, my lord shall know of thy presumption.\" The porter\nentered, and related what had passed. Jovinian was introduced, but the\nknight retained not the slightest recollection of his master, although\nthe emperor remembered him. \"Who are you?\" said the knight, \"and what is\nyour name?\" \"I am the Emperor Jovinian,\" rejoined he; \"canst thou have\nforgotten me? At such a time I promoted thee to a military command.\"\n\"Why, thou most audacious scoundrel,\" said the knight, \"darest thou call\nthyself the emperor? I rode with him myself to the palace, from whence I\nam this moment returned. But thy impudence shall not go without its\nreward. Flog him,\" said he, turning to his servants. \"Flog him soundly,\nand drive him away.\"\n\nThis sentence was immediately executed, and the poor emperor, bursting\ninto a convulsion of tears, exclaimed, \"Oh, my God, is it possible that\none whom I have so much honoured and exalted should do this? Not content\nwith pretending ignorance of my person, he orders these merciless\nvillains to abuse me! However, it will not be long unavenged. There is a\ncertain duke, one of my privy councillors, to whom I will make known my\ncalamity. At least, he will enable me to return decently to the palace.\"\nTo him, therefore, Jovinian proceeded, and the gate was opened at his\nknock. But the porter, beholding a naked man, exclaimed in the greatest\namaze, \"Friend, who are you, and why come you here in such a guise?\" He\nreplied, \"I am your emperor; I have accidentally lost my clothes and my\nhorse, and I have come for succour to your lord. Inform the duke,\ntherefore, that I have business with him.\" The porter, more and more\nastonished, entered the hall, and told of the man outside. \"Bring him\nin,\" said the duke. He was brought in, but neither did he recognize the\nperson of the emperor. \"What art thou?\" was again asked, and answered as\nbefore. \"Poor mad wretch,\" said the duke, \"a short time since, I\nreturned from the palace, where I left the very emperor thou assumest to\nbe. But ignorant whether thou art more fool or knave, we will administer\nsuch remedy as may suit both. Carry him to prison, and feed him with\nbread and water.\" The command was no sooner delivered, than obeyed; and\nthe following day his naked body was submitted to the lash, and again\ncast into the dungeon.\n\nThus afflicted, he gave himself up to the wretchedness of his untoward\ncondition. In the agony of his heart, he said: \"What shall I do? Oh!\nwhat will be my destiny? I am loaded with the coarsest contumely, and\nexposed to the malicious observation of my people. It were better to\nhasten immediately to my palace, and there discover myself--my wife will\nknow me; surely, my wife will know me!\" Escaping, therefore, from his\nconfinement, he approached the palace and beat upon the gate. The same\nquestions were repeated, and the same answers returned. \"Who art thou?\"\nsaid the porter. \"It is strange,\" replied the aggrieved emperor, \"it is\nstrange that thou shouldst not know me; thou, who hast served me so\nlong!\" \"Served _thee_!\" returned the porter indignantly; \"thou liest\nabominably. I have served none but the emperor.\" \"Why,\" said the other,\n\"thou knowest that I am he. Yet, though you disregard my words, go, I\nimplore you, to the empress; communicate what I will tell thee, and by\nthese signs, bid her send the imperial robes, of which some rogue\nhas deprived me. The signs I tell thee of are known to none but to\nourselves.\" \"In verity,\" said the porter, \"thou art specially mad; at\nthis very moment my lord sits at table with the empress herself.\nNevertheless, out of regard for thy singular merits, I will intimate thy\ndeclaration within; and rest assured thou wilt presently find thyself\nmost royally beaten.\" The porter went accordingly, and related what he\nhad heard. But the empress became very sorrowful, and said: \"Oh, my\nlord, what am I to think? The most hidden passages of our lives are\nrevealed by an obscene fellow at the gate, and repeated to me by the\nporter, on the strength of which he declares himself the emperor, and my\nespoused lord!\" When the fictitious monarch was apprised of this, he\ncommanded him to be brought in. He had no sooner entered, than a large\ndog, which couched upon the hearth, and had been much cherished by him,\nflew at his throat, and, but for timely prevention, would have killed\nhim. A falcon also, seated upon her perch, no sooner beheld him than she\nbroke her jesses and flew out of the hall. Then the pretended emperor,\naddressing those who stood about him, said: \"My friends, hear what I\nwill ask of yon ribald. Who are you? and what do you want?\" \"These\nquestions,\" said the suffering man, \"are very strange. You know I am the\nemperor and master of this place.\" The other, turning to the nobles who\nsat or stood at the table, continued: \"Tell me, on your allegiance,\nwhich of us two is your lord and master?\" \"Your majesty asks us an easy\nthing,\" replied they, \"and need not to remind us of our allegiance. That\nobscene wretch cannot be our sovereign. You alone are he, whom we have\nknown from childhood; and we intreat that this fellow may be severely\npunished as a warning to others how they give scope to their mad\npresumption.\" Then turning to the empress, the usurper said: \"Tell me,\nmy lady, on the faith you have sworn, do you know this man who calls\nhimself thy lord and emperor?\" She answered: \"My lord, how can you ask\nsuch a question? Have I not known thee more than thirty years, and borne\nthee many children? Yet, at one thing I do admire. How can this fellow\nhave acquired so intimate a knowledge of what has passed between us?\"\n\nThe pretended emperor made no reply, but addressing the real one, said:\n\"Friend, how darest thou to call thyself emperor? We sentence thee, for\nthis unexampled impudence, to be drawn, without loss of time, at the\ntail of a horse. And if thou utterest the same words again, thou shalt\nbe doomed to an ignominious death.\" He then commanded his guards to see\nthe sentence put in force, but to preserve his life. The unfortunate\nemperor was now almost distracted; and urged by his despair, wished\nvehemently for death. \"Why was I born?\" he exclaimed. \"My friends shun\nme, and my wife and children will not acknowledge me. But there is my\nconfessor, still. To him will I go; perhaps he will recollect me,\nbecause he has often received my confessions.\" He went accordingly, and\nknocked at the window of his cell. \"Who is there?\" said the confessor.\n\"The Emperor Jovinian,\" was the reply; \"open the window and I will speak\nto thee.\" The window was opened; but no sooner had he looked out than he\nclosed it again in great haste. \"Depart from me,\" said he, \"accursed\nthing: thou art not the emperor, but the devil incarnate.\" This completed\nthe miseries of the persecuted man; and he tore his hair, and plucked up\nhis beard by the roots. \"Woe is me,\" he cried, \"for what strange doom am\nI reserved?\" At this crisis, the impious words which, in the arrogance\nof his heart, he had uttered, crossed his recollection. Immediately he\nbeat again at the window of the confessor's cell, and exclaimed: \"For\nthe love of Him who was suspended from the cross, hear my confession.\"\nThe recluse opened the window, and said, \"I will do this with pleasure;\"\nand then Jovinian acquainted him with every particular of his past life;\nand principally how he had lifted himself up against his Maker.\n\nThe confession made, and absolution given, the recluse looked out of his\nwindow, and directly knew him. \"Blessed be the most high God,\" said he,\n\"now I do know thee. I have here a few garments: clothe thyself, and go\nto the palace. I trust that they also will recognize thee.\" The emperor\ndid as the confessor directed. The porter opened the gate, and made a\nlow obeisance to him. \"Dost thou know me?\" said he. \"Very well, my\nlord!\" replied the menial; \"but I marvel that I did not observe you go\nout.\" Entering the hall of his mansion, Jovinian was received by all\nwith a profound reverence. The strange emperor was at that time in\nanother apartment with the queen; and a certain knight going to him,\nsaid, \"My lord, there is one in the hall to whom everybody bends; he so\nmuch resembles you, that we know not which is the emperor.\" Hearing\nthis, the usurper said to the empress, \"Go and see if you know him.\" She\nwent, and returned greatly surprised at what she saw. \"Oh, my lord,\"\nsaid she, \"I declare to you that I know not whom to trust.\" \"Then,\"\nreturned he, \"I will go and determine you.\" And taking her hand he led\nher into the hall and placed her on the throne beside him. Addressing\nthe assembly, he said, \"By the oaths you have taken, declare which of\nus is your emperor.\" The empress answered: \"It is incumbent on me to\nspeak first; but heaven is my witness, that I am unable to determine\nwhich is he.\" And so said all. Then the feigned emperor spoke thus: \"My\nfriends, hearken! That man is your king and your lord. He exalted\nhimself to the disparagement of his Maker; and God, therefore, scourged\nand hid him from your knowledge. But his repentance removes the rod; he\nhas now made ample satisfaction, and again let your obedience wait upon\nhim. Commend yourselves to the protection of heaven.\" So saying, he\ndisappeared. The emperor gave thanks to God, and surrendering to Him all\nhis soul, lived happily and finished his days in peace.\n\n\n\n\nXIII.--THE TWO PHYSICIANS.\n\n\nTwo physicians once lived in a city, who were admirably skilled in\nmedicine, insomuch that all the sick who took their prescriptions were\nhealed; and it thence became a question with the inhabitants, which of\nthem was the best. After a while, a dispute arose between them upon this\npoint.\n\nSaid one, \"My friend, why should discord or envy or anger separate us;\nlet us make the trial, and whosoever is inferior in skill shall serve\nthe other.\"\n\n\"But how,\" replied his friend, \"is this to be brought about?\"\n\nThe first physician answered: \"Hear me. I will pluck out your eyes\nwithout doing you the smallest injury, and lay them before you on the\ntable; and when you desire it I will replace them as perfect and\nserviceable as they were before. If, in like manner, you can perform\nthis, we will then be esteemed equal, and walk as brethren through the\nworld. But, remember, he who fails in the attempt shall become the\nservant of the other.\"\n\n\"I am well pleased,\" returned his fellow, \"to do as you say.\" Whereupon\nhe who made the proposition took out his instruments and extracted the\neyes, besmearing the sockets and the outer part of the lids with a\ncertain rich ointment.\n\n\"My dear friend,\" said he, \"what do you perceive?\"\n\n\"Of a surety,\" cried the other, \"I see nothing. I want the use of my\neyes, but I feel no pain from their loss. I pray you, however, restore\nthem to their places as you promised.\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" said his friend. He again touched the inner and outer part\nof the lids with the ointment, and then, with much precision, inserted\nthe balls into their sockets. \"How do you see now?\" asked he.\n\n\"Excellently,\" returned the other, \"nor do I feel the least pain.\"\n\"Well, then,\" continued the first, \"it now remains for you to treat me\nin a similar manner.\" \"I am ready,\" he said. And accordingly taking the\ninstruments, as the first had done, he smeared the upper and under parts\nof the eye with a peculiar ointment, drew out the eyes and placed them\nupon the table. The patient felt no pain, but added, \"I wish you would\nhasten to restore them.\" The operator cheerfully complied; but as he\nprepared his implements, a crow entered by an open window, and seeing\nthe eyes upon the table, snatched one of them up, and flew away with it.\nThe physician, vexed at what had happened, said to himself, \"If I do not\nrestore the eye to my companion, I must become his slave.\" At that\nmoment a goat, browsing at no great distance, attracted his observation.\nInstantly he ran to it, drew out one of his eyes, and put it into the\nplace of the lost one.\n\n\"My dear friend,\" exclaimed the operator, \"how do things appear to\nyou?\"\n\n\"Neither in extracting nor in replacing,\" he answered, \"did I suffer the\nleast pain; but--bless me!--one eye looks up to the trees!\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied the first, \"this is the very perfection of medicine.\nNeither of us is superior; henceforward we will be friends, as we are\nequals; and banish far off that spirit of contention which has destroyed\nour peace.\" The goat-eyed man of physic acquiesced; they lived from this\ntime in the greatest amity.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.--THE FALCON.\n\n\nIn the reign of Pompey there lived a fair and amiable lady, and near to\nher dwelt a handsome, noble soldier. He often visited her, and professed\nmuch honourable love. The soldier coming once to see her, observed a\nfalcon upon her wrist, which he greatly admired. \"Dear lady,\" said he,\n\"if you love me, give me that beautiful bird.\" \"I consent,\" returned\nshe, \"but on one condition, that you do not attach yourself so much to\nit as to rob me of your society.\" \"Far be such ingratitude from your\nservant,\" cried the soldier, \"I would not forsake you on any account;\nand believe me, this generosity binds me more than ever to love you.\"\n\nThe lady presented the falcon to him; and bidding her farewell, he\nreturned to his own castle. But he liked the bird so much, that he\nforgot his promise to the lady, and never thought of her except when he\nsported with the falcon. She sent messengers to him, but it was of no\nuse; he came not: and at last she wrote a very urgent letter, entreating\nhim, without the least delay, to hasten to her and bring the falcon\nalong with him.\n\nHe acquiesced; and the lady, after salutation, asked him to let her\ntouch the bird. But when she had it in her hands, she wrenched its head\nfrom the body. \"Madam,\" said the vexed soldier, \"what have you done?\" To\nwhich the lady answered, \"Be not offended, but rather rejoice at what I\nhave done. That falcon was the cause of your absence, and I killed him\nthat I might enjoy your company as I was wont.\" The soldier, satisfied\nwith the reason, became once more faithful in his love.\n\n\nAPPLICATION.\n\nMy beloved, the king is our heavenly Father; the lady, our human nature\njoined to the divinity in Christ. The soldier is any Christian, and the\nfalcon, temporal prosperity.\n\n\n\n\nXV.--LET THE LAZIEST BE KING.\n\n\nThe Emperor Pliny had three sons, to whom he was very indulgent. He\nwished to dispose of his kingdom, and calling the three into his\npresence, spoke thus: \"The laziest of you shall reign after my death.\"\n\n\"Then,\" answered the elder, \"the kingdom must be mine; for I am so lazy,\nthat sitting once by the fire, I burnt my legs, because I was too\nslothful to withdraw them.\"\n\nThe second son said, \"The kingdom should properly be mine, for if I had\na rope round my neck, and held a sword in my hand, my idleness is such,\nthat I should not put forth my hand to cut the rope.\"\n\n\"But I,\" said the third son, \"ought to be preferred to you both; for I\noutdo both in sloth. While I lay upon my bed, water dropped from above\nupon my eyes; and though, from the nature of the water, I was in danger\nof becoming blind, I neither could nor would turn my head ever so little\nto the right hand or to the left.\" The emperor, hearing this, bequeathed\nthe kingdom to him, thinking him the laziest of the three.\n\n\n\n\nXVI.--THE THREE MAXIMS.\n\n\nDomitian was a very wise and just prince, and suffered no offender to\nescape. It happened that as he once sat at table, a certain merchant\nknocked at the gate. The porter opened it, and asked what he pleased to\nwant.\n\n\"I have brought some useful things for sale,\" answered the merchant. The\nporter introduced him, and he very humbly made obeisance to the emperor.\n\n\"My friend,\" said the emperor, \"what merchandise have you to dispose\nof?\"\n\n\"Three maxims of especial wisdom and excellence, my lord.\"\n\n\"And how much will you take for your maxims?\"\n\n\"A thousand florins.\"\n\n\"And so,\" said the king, \"if they are of no use to me I lose my money?\"\n\n\"My lord,\" answered the merchant, \"if the maxims do not stand you in\nstead, I will return the money.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the emperor. \"Let us hear your maxims.\"\n\n\"The first, my lord, is this: 'Whatever you do, do wisely; and think of\nthe consequences.' The second is: 'Never leave the _highway_ for a\n_byway_.' And, thirdly: 'Never stay all night as a guest in that house\nwhere you find the master an old man and his wife a young woman.' These\nthree maxims, if you attend to them, will be extremely serviceable.\"\n\nThe emperor, being of the same opinion, ordered him to be paid a\nthousand florins; and so pleased was he with the first, that he\ncommanded it to be inscribed in his court, in his bed-chamber, and in\nevery place where he was accustomed to walk, and even upon the\ntable-cloths from which he ate.\n\nNow the rigid justice of the emperor occasioned a conspiracy among the\nvicious and refractory of his subjects; and finding the means of\naccomplishing their purposes somewhat difficult, they engaged a barber,\nby large promises, to cut his throat as he shaved him.\n\nWhen the emperor, therefore, was to be shaved, the barber lathered his\nbeard, and began to operate upon it; but casting his eyes over the towel\nwhich he had fastened round the royal neck, he perceived woven thereon,\n\"Whatever you do, do wisely, and think of the consequences.\" The\ninscription startled the tonsor, and he said to himself, \"I am to-day\nhired to destroy this man. If I do it, my end will be ignominious; I\nshall be condemned to the most shameful death. Therefore, whatsoever I\ndo, it is good to consider the end, as the writing testifies.\" These\ncogitations disturbed the barber so much that his hand trembled, and the\nrazor fell to the ground. The emperor, seeing this, inquired the cause.\n\n\"Oh, my lord,\" said the barber, \"have mercy upon me: I was hired this\nday to destroy you; but accidentally, or rather by the will of God, I\nread the inscription on the towel, 'Whatever you do, do wisely, and\nthink of the consequences.' Whereby, considering that, of a surety, the\nconsequence would be my own destruction, my hand trembled so much, that\nI lost all command over it.\"\n\n\"Well,\" thought the emperor, \"this first maxim hath assuredly saved my\nlife: in a good hour was it purchased. My friend,\" said he to the\nbarber, \"on condition that you be faithful hereafter, I pardon you.\"\n\nThe noblemen who had conspired against the emperor, finding that their\nproject had failed, consulted with one another what they were to do\nnext.\n\n\"On such a day,\" said one, \"he journeys to a particular city; we will\nhide ourselves in a bypath, through which, in all probability, he will\npass, and so kill him.\"\n\nThe counsel was approved.\n\nThe king, as had been expected, prepared to set out; and riding on till\nhe came to a cross-way, much less circuitous than the high road, his\nknights said, \"My lord, it will be better for you to go this way, than\nto pass along the broad road; it is considerably nearer.\"\n\nThe king pondered the matter within himself. \"The second maxim,\" thought\nhe, \"admonishes me never to forsake the highway for a byway. I will\nadhere to that maxim.\"\n\nThen turning to his soldiers, \"I shall not quit the public road; but\nyou, if it please you, may proceed by that path, and prepare for my\napproach.\" Accordingly a number of them went; and the ambush, imagining\nthat the king rode in their company, fell upon them and put the greater\npart to the sword. When the news reached the king, he secretly\nexclaimed, \"My second maxim hath also saved my life.\"\n\nSeeing, therefore, that by cunning they were unable to slay their lord,\nthe conspirators again took counsel, and it was observed, that on a\ncertain day he would lodge in a particular house, \"because,\" said they,\n\"there is no other fit for his reception. Let us then agree with the\nmaster of that house, and his wife, for a sum of money to kill the\nemperor as he lies in bed.\"\n\nThis was agreed to.\n\nBut when the emperor had come into the city, and had been lodged in the\nhouse to which the conspirators referred, he commanded his host to be\ncalled into his presence. Observing that he was an old man, the emperor\nsaid, \"Have you not a wife?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord.\"\n\n\"I wish to see her.\"\n\nThe lady came; and when it appeared that she was very young--not\neighteen years of age--the king said hastily to his chamberlain, \"Away,\nprepare me a bed in another house. I will remain here no longer.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" replied he, \"be it as you please. But they have made\neverything ready for you: were it not better to lie where you are, for\nin the whole city there is not so commodious a place.\"\n\n\"I tell you,\" answered the emperor, \"I will sleep elsewhere.\"\n\nThe chamberlain, therefore, removed; and the king went privately to\nanother residence, saying to the soldiers about him, \"Remain here, if\nyou like; but join me early in the morning.\"\n\nNow while they slept, the old man and his wife arose, and not finding\nthe king, put to death all the soldiers who had remained. In the\nmorning, when the murder was discovered, the emperor gave thanks to God\nfor his escape. \"Oh,\" cried he, \"if I had continued here, I should have\nbeen destroyed. So the third maxim hath also preserved me.\"\n\nBut the old man and his wife, with the whole of their family, were\ncrucified. The emperor retained the three maxims in memory during life,\nand ended his days in peace.\n\n\n\n\nXVII.--A LOAF FOR A DREAM.\n\n\nThere were once three friends who agreed to make a pilgrimage together.\nIt happened that their provisions fell short, and having but one loaf\nbetween them, they were nearly famished.\n\n\"Should this loaf,\" they said to each other, \"be divided amongst us,\nthere will not be enough for any one. Let us then take counsel\ntogether, and consider how the bread is to be disposed of.\"\n\n\"Suppose we sleep upon the way,\" replied one of them; \"and whosoever\nhath the most wonderful dream shall possess the loaf.\"\n\nThe other two acquiesced, and settled themselves to sleep.\n\nBut he who gave the advice, arose while they were sleeping, and ate up\nthe bread, not leaving a single crumb for his companions. When he had\nfinished he awoke them.\n\n\"Get up quickly,\" said he, \"and tell us your dreams.\"\n\n\"My friends,\" answered the first, \"I have had a very marvellous vision.\nA golden ladder reached up to heaven, by which angels ascended and\ndescended. They took my soul from my body, and conveyed it to that\nblessed place where I beheld the Holy Trinity; and where I felt such an\noverflow of joy, as eye hath not seen, nor ear heard. This is my dream.\"\n\n\"And I,\" said the second, \"beheld the devils with iron instruments, by\nwhich they dragged my soul from the body, and plunging it into hell\nflames, most grievously tormented me, saying, 'As long as God reigns in\nheaven this will be your portion.'\"\n\n\"Now then,\" said the third, who had eaten the bread, \"hear my dream. It\nappeared as if an angel came and addressed me in the following manner:\n'My friend, would you see what is become of your companions?' I answered,\n'Yes, Lord. We have but one loaf among us, and I fear that they have run\noff with it.' 'You are mistaken,' he rejoined, 'it lies beside us;\nfollow me.' He immediately led me to the gate of heaven, and by his\ncommand I put in my head and saw you; and I thought that you were\nsnatched up into heaven and sat upon a throne of gold, while rich\nwines and delicate meats stood around you. Then said the angel, 'Your\ncompanion, you see, has an abundance of good things, and dwells in all\npleasures. There he will remain for ever; for he has entered a celestial\nkingdom, and cannot return. Come now where your other associate is\nplaced.' I followed, and he led me to hell-gates, where I beheld you in\ntorment, as you just now said. Yet they furnished you, even there, with\nbread and wine in abundance. I expressed my sorrow at seeing you in\nmisery, and you replied, 'As long as God reigns in heaven here I must\nremain, for I have merited it. Do you then rise up quickly, and eat all\nthe bread, since you will see neither me nor my companion again.' I\ncomplied with your wishes; arose, and ate the bread.\"\n\n\n\n\nXVIII.--LOWER THAN THE BEASTS.\n\n\nIn the reign of a certain king there lived a proud and oppressive\nseneschal. Now near the royal palace was a forest well stocked with\ngame; and by the direction of this person various pits were dug there,\nand covered with leaves, for the purpose of entrapping the beasts. It\nhappened that the seneschal himself went into this forest, and with much\nexaltation of heart exclaimed internally, \"Lives there a being in the\nempire more powerful than I am?\" This braggart thought was scarcely\nformed, ere he rode upon one of his own pitfalls, and immediately\ndisappeared.\n\nThe same day had been taken a lion, a monkey, and a serpent. Terrified\nat the situation into which fate had thrown him, he cried out lustily;\nand his noise awoke a poor man called Guido, who had come with his ass\ninto that forest for firewood, by the sale of which he got his bread.\nHastening to the mouth of the pit, and finding the cause of the noise,\nhe was promised great wealth if he would lift the seneschal out.\n\n\"My friend,\" answered Guido, \"I have no means of obtaining a livelihood\nexcept by the faggots which I collect; if I neglect this for one day, I\nshall starve.\"\n\nThe seneschal renewed his promises of enriching him. Guido went back to\nthe city, and returned with a long cord, which he let down into the pit,\nand bade the seneschal bind it round his waist. But before he could do\nso, the lion leaped forward, and seizing upon the cord, was drawn up in\nhis stead. Immediately, in high glee, the beast ran off into the wood.\nThe rope again descended, and the monkey having noticed the success of\nthe lion, vaulted above the man's head, and shaking the cord, was in\nlike manner set at liberty. Without staying to return thanks, he hurried\noff to his haunts. A third time the cord was let down, and the serpent\ntwining around it, was drawn up, and escaped.\n\n\"O my good friend,\" said the seneschal, \"the beasts are gone, now draw\nme up quickly, I pray you.\"\n\nGuido complied, and afterwards succeeded in drawing up his horse, which\nthe seneschal instantly mounted and rode back to the palace.\n\nGuido returned home; and his wife observing that he had come without\nwood, was very dejected, and inquired the cause. He related what had\noccurred, and the riches he was to receive for his service. The wife's\ncountenance brightened, and early in the morning she posted off her\nhusband to the palace. But the seneschal denied all knowledge of him,\nand ordered him to be whipped for his presumption. The porter executed\nthe directions, and beat him so severely that he left him half dead. As\nsoon as Guido's wife understood this, she saddled their ass, and brought\nhim home. The sickness which ensued, consumed the whole of their little\nproperty; but as soon as he had recovered, he went back to his usual\noccupation in the wood.\n\nWhilst he was thus employed, he saw afar off ten asses laden with packs,\nand a lion by the last of them, coming along the path. On looking\nnarrowly at this beast, he remembered that it was the same which he had\nfreed from its imprisonment in the pit. The lion signified with his foot\nthat he should take the loaded asses, and go home. This Guido did, and\nthe lion followed. When he had come to his own door, the noble beast\nfawned upon him, and wagging his tail as if in triumph, ran back to the\nwoods. Guido caused proclamation to be made in different churches,[7]\nthat if any asses had been lost, the owners should come to him; but no\none appearing to demand them, he opened the packages, and to his great\njoy discovered them full of money.\n\nOn the second day Guido returned to the forest, but forgot an iron\ninstrument to cleave the wood. He looked up, and saw the monkey whom he\nhad set free; and the animal, by help of teeth and nails, worked for\nhim. Guido then loaded his asses and went home.\n\nThe next day he renewed his visit to the forest; and sitting down to\nprepare his axe, discerned the serpent, whose escape he had aided,\ncarrying a stone in its mouth of three colours; the one white, another\nblack, and the third red. It opened its mouth and let the stone fall\ninto Guido's lap. Having done this, it departed. Guido took the stone to\na skilful lapidary, who had no sooner inspected it than he knew its\nvirtues, and would willingly have paid him a hundred florins for it. But\nGuido refused; and by means of that singular stone, obtained great\nwealth, and was promoted to a military command.\n\nThe emperor having heard of the extraordinary qualities which it\npossessed, desired to see it. Guido went accordingly; and the emperor\nwas so struck with its uncommon beauty, that he wished to purchase it at\nany rate; and threatened, if Guido refused compliance, to banish him\nthe kingdom.\n\n\"My lord,\" answered he, \"I will sell the stone; but let me say one\nthing--if the price be not given, it shall be presently restored to me.\"\n\nHe demanded three hundred florins, and then taking it from a small\ncoffer, put it into the emperor's hands. Full of admiration, he\nexclaimed, \"Tell me where you procured this beautiful stone?\"\n\nThis he did; and related from the beginning the seneschal's accident and\nsubsequent ingratitude. He told how severely he had been whipped by his\ncommand; and the benefits he had received from the lion, the monkey, and\nserpent.\n\nMuch moved at the recital, the emperor sent for the seneschal, and said,\n\"What is this I hear of thee?\" He was unable to reply. \"O wretch!\"\ncontinued the emperor--\"monster of ingratitude! Guido liberated thee from\nthe most imminent danger, and for this thou hast nearly destroyed him.\nDost thou see how even irrational things have rendered him good for the\nservice he performed? but thou hast returned evil for good. Therefore I\ndeprive thee of thy dignity, which I will bestow upon Guido; and I\nfurther adjudge you to be hung on a cross.\" This decree infinitely\nrejoiced the noblemen of the empire; and Guido, full of honours and\nyears, ended his days in peace.\n\n\n\n\nXIX.--OF REAL FRIENDSHIP.\n\n\nA certain king had an only son whom he much loved. The young man was\ndesirous of travelling, and obtained his father's leave to travel. After\nan absence of seven years he returned, and his father, overjoyed at his\narrival, asked what friends he had made. \"Three,\" said the son, \"the\nfirst of whom I love more than myself; the second, as much as myself;\nand the third, little or nothing.\"\n\n\"You say well,\" returned the father; \"but it is a good thing to prove\nthem before you need their help. Therefore kill a pig, put it into a\nsack, and go at night to the house of him whom you love best, and say\nthat you have accidentally killed a man, and if the body should be found\nI shall condemn you to an ignominious death. Intreat him if he ever\nloved you, to give his help in this extremity.\" The son did so; and the\nfriend answered, \"Since you have rashly destroyed a man, you must needs\nbe crucified. Now because you were my friend, I will bestow upon you\nthree or four ells of cloth to wrap your body in.\"\n\nThe youth hearing this, went in much indignation to the second of his\nfriends, and told the same story. He received him like the first, and\nsaid, \"Do you believe me mad, that I should expose myself to such peril?\nBut since I have called you my friend, I will accompany you to the\ncross, and console you as much as possible upon the way.\"\n\nThis liberal proposal not meeting the prince's approbation, he went to\nthe third, and said, \"I am ashamed to speak what I have done; but alas!\nI have accidentally slain a man.\" \"My friend,\" answered the other, \"I\nwill readily lay down my life in your defence; and should you be\ncondemned to expiate your misfortune on the cross, I will be crucified\neither for you or with you.\" _This_ man, therefore, proved that he was\nhis friend.\n\n\n\n\nXX.--ROYAL BOUNTY.\n\n\nA king issued a proclamation, that whosoever would come to him should\nobtain all they asked. The noble and the rich desired dukedoms, or\ncounties, or knighthood; and some treasures of silver and gold. But\nwhatsoever they desired they had. Then came the poor and the simple,\nand solicited a like boon.\n\n\"Ye come late,\" said the king, \"the noble and the rich have already\nbeen, and have carried away all I possess.\" This reply troubled them\nexceedingly; and the king, moved by their concern, said, \"My friends,\nthough I have given away all my wealth, I have still the sovereign\npower; no one asked for that. I appoint you, therefore, to be their\njudges and masters.\"\n\nWhen this came to the ears of the rich, they were extremely disturbed,\nand said to the king, \"My lord, we are greatly troubled at your\nappointing these poor wretches our rulers; it were better for us to die\nthan admit such servitude.\"\n\n\"Sirs,\" answered the king, \"I do you no wrong: whatever you asked I\ngave; insomuch that nothing remains to me but the supreme power.\nNevertheless, I will give you counsel. Whosoever of you has enough to\nsupport life, let him bestow the superfluity upon these poor people.\nThey will then live honestly and comfortably, and upon these conditions\nI will resume the sovereignty and keep it, while you avoid the servitude\nyou fear.\" And thus it was done.\n\n\n\n\nXXI.--WILY BEGUILED.\n\n\nA thief went one night to the house of a rich man, and scaling the roof,\npeeped through a hole to see whether any part of the family were yet\nstirring. The master of the house, suspecting something, said secretly\nto his wife, \"Ask me in a loud voice how I got my property, and do not\nstop until I bid you.\"\n\nThe woman complied, and began to shout, \"My dear husband, pray tell me,\nsince you never were a merchant, how you came by all the wealth you\nhave.\"\n\n\"My love,\" answered her husband, \"do not ask such foolish questions.\"\n\nBut she persisted in her inquiries; and at length, as if overcome by her\nurgency, he said, \"Keep what I am going to tell you a secret, and you\nshall know.\"\n\n\"Oh! trust me.\"\n\n\"Well, then, you must know that I was a thief, and got what I now enjoy\nby nightly depredations.\"\n\n\"It is strange,\" said the wife, \"that you were never taken.\"\n\n\"Why,\" he replied, \"my master, who was a skilful clerk, taught me a\nparticular word, which, when I went on the tops of people's houses, I\npronounced, and thus escaped detection.\"\n\n\"Tell me, I conjure you,\" returned the lady, \"what that powerful word\nwas.\"\n\n\"Hear, then; but never mention it again, or we shall lose all our\nproperty.\"\n\n\"Be sure of that,\" said the lady; \"it shall never be repeated.\"\n\n\"It was--is there no one within hearing?--the mighty word was 'FALSE.'\"\n\nThe lady, apparently quite satisfied, fell asleep; and her husband\nfeigned it. He snored lustily, and the thief above, who had heard their\nconversation with much pleasure, aided by the light of the moon,\ndescended, repeating seven times the cabalistic sound. But being too\nmuch occupied with the charm to mind his footing, he stepped through the\nwindow into the house; and in the fall dislocated his leg and arm, and\nlay half dead upon the floor. The owner of the mansion, hearing the\nnoise, and well knowing the reason, though he pretended ignorance, asked\n\"What was the matter?\" \"Oh!\" groaned the suffering thief, \"_False_\nfalls.\" In the morning he was taken before the judge, and afterwards\nsuspended on a cross.\n\n\n\n\nXXII.--THE BASILISK.\n\n\nAlexander the Great was lord of the whole world. He once collected a\nlarge army, and besieged a certain city, around which many knights and\nothers were killed without any visible wound. Much surprised at this, he\ncalled together his philosophers, and said, \"My masters, how is this? My\nsoldiers die, and there is no apparent wound!\" \"No wonder,\" replied\nthey; \"under the walls of the city is a basilisk, whose look infects\nyour soldiers, and they die of the pestilence it creates.\" \"And what\nremedy is there for this?\" said the king.\n\n\"Place a glass in a high place between the army and the wall under which\nthe basilisk cowers; and no sooner shall he behold it, than his own\nfigure, reflected in the mirror, shall return the poison upon himself,\nand kill him.\" Alexander took their advice, and thus saved his\nfollowers.\n\n\nAPPLICATION.\n\nMy beloved, look into the glass of _reflection_, and by remembrance of\nhuman frailty destroy the vices which time breeds.\n\n\n\n\nXXIII.--THE TRUMP OF DEATH.\n\n\nA king made a law, by which whosoever was suddenly to be put to death,\nin the morning, before sunrise should be saluted with songs and\ntrumpets; and, arrayed in black garments, should receive judgment. This\nking made a great feast; and convoked all the nobles of his kingdom, who\nappeared accordingly. The most skilful musicians were assembled, and\nthere was much sweet melody.\n\nBut the king was discontented and out of humour; his countenance\nexpressed intense sorrow, and sighs and groans rose from his heart. The\ncourtiers were all amazed; but none dared ask the cause of his sadness.\nAt last, the king's brother whispered to him the surprise of his guests,\nand intreated that he might understand the cause of his grief. \"Go home\nnow,\" answered the king; \"to-morrow you shall know.\" This was done.\n\nEarly in the morning the king caused the trumpets to sound before his\nbrother's house, and the guards to bring him to the court. The brother,\ngreatly alarmed at the sounding of the trumpets, arose, and put on\nblack. When he came before the king, the king commanded a deep pit to\nbe dug, and a rotten chair, with four decayed feet, to be slightly\nsuspended over it. In this chair he made his brother sit; above his head\nhe caused a sword to hang, attached to one silk thread; and four men,\neach armed with a very sharp sword, to stand near him, one before and\none behind; a third on the right hand, and the fourth on the left. When\nthey were thus placed, the king said, \"The moment I give the word,\nstrike him to the heart.\"\n\nTrumpets, and all other kind of musical instruments, were brought; and a\ntable, covered with various dishes, was set before him. \"My dear\nbrother,\" said the king, \"what is the cause of your sorrow? Here are the\ngreatest delicacies, the most enrapturing harmony; why do you not\nrejoice?\"\n\n\"How can I rejoice?\" answered he. \"In the morning, trumpets sounded for\nmy death; and I am now placed upon a frail chair, in which, if I move\never so little, I shall probably be thrown upon the pointed sword\nbeneath. If I raise my head, the weapon above will pierce to my brain.\nBesides this, the four torturers around stand ready to kill me at your\nbidding. These things considered, were I lord of the universe I could\nnot rejoice.\"\n\n\"Now, then,\" answered the king, \"I will reply to your question of\nyesterday. I am, on my throne, as you on that frail chair. For my body\nis its emblem, supported by four decayed feet, that is, by the four\nelements. The pit below me is hell. Above my head is the sword of divine\njustice, ready to take life from my body. Before me is the sword of\ndeath; behind, the sword of sin, ready to accuse me at the tribunal of\nGod. The weapon on the right hand is the devil; and that on the left, is\nthe worms which after death shall gnaw my body. And, considering all\nthese circumstances, how can _I_ rejoice? If you to-day feared me, who\nam mortal, how much more ought I to dread my Creator and my Redeemer,\nour Lord Jesus Christ? Go, dearest brother, and be careful that you do\nnot again ask such questions.\"\n\nThe brother rose from his unpleasant seat, and rendering thanks to the\nking for the lesson he had given him, firmly resolved to amend his life.\nAll who were present commended the ingenuity of the royal reproof.\n\n\n\n\nXXIV.--ALEXANDER AND THE PIRATE.\n\n\nAugustine tells us in his book, \"De Civitate Dei,\" that Diomedes, in a\npiratical galley, for a long time infested the sea, plundering and\nsinking many ships. Being captured by command of Alexander, before whom\nhe was brought, the king inquired how he dared to molest the seas. \"How\ndarest _thou_,\" replied he, \"molest the earth? Because I am master only\nof a single galley, I am termed a robber; but you, who oppress the world\nwith huge squadrons, are called a king and a conqueror. Would my fortune\nchange I might become better; but as you are the more fortunate, so\nmuch are you the worse.\" \"I will change thy fortune,\" said Alexander,\n\"lest fortune should be blamed by thy malignity.\" Thus he became rich;\nand from a robber was made a prince and a dispenser of justice.\n\n\n\n\nXXV.--A TALE OF A PENNY.\n\n\nThere was an emperor whose porter was very shrewd. He earnestly besought\nhis master that he might have the custody of a city for a single month,\nand receive, by way of tax, one penny from every crook-backed, one-eyed,\nscabby, leprous, or ruptured person. The emperor admitted his request,\nand confirmed the gift under his own seal.\n\nAccordingly, the porter was installed in his office; and as the people\nentered the city he took note of their defects, and charged them in\naccordance with the grant. It happened that a hunch-backed fellow one\nday entered, and the porter made his demand. Hunch-back protested that\nhe would pay nothing.\n\nThe porter immediately laid hands upon him, and accidentally raising his\ncap, discovered that he was _one-eyed_ also. He demanded two pennies\nforthwith.\n\nThe other still more vehemently opposed, and would have fled; but the\nporter catching hold of his head, the cap came off, and disclosed a bald\n_scab_; whereupon he required three pennies.\n\nHunch-back, very much enraged, persisted in his refusal, and began to\nstruggle with the porter. This caused an exposure of his arms, by which\nit became manifest that he was _leprous_. The fourth penny was therefore\nlaid claim to; and the scuffle continuing, revealed a _rupture_, which\nmade a fifth.\n\nThus, a fellow unjustly refusing to pay a rightful demand of _one_\npenny, was necessitated, much against his inclination, to pay _five_.\n\n\n\n\nXXVI.--OF AVOIDING IMPRECATIONS.\n\n\nGervase of Tilbury relates a very remarkable occurrence, but at the same\ntime full of excellent caution and prudent exhortation.\n\nDuring the reign of the Roman emperor Otto, there was, in the bishopric\nof Girona, in Catalonia, a very high mountain, whose ascent was\nextremely arduous, and, except in one place, inaccessible. On the summit\nwas an unfathomable lake of black water. Here also stood, as it is\nreported, a palace of demons, with a large gate, continually closed; but\nthe palace itself, as well as its inhabitants, existed in invisibility.\nIf any one cast a stone or other hard substance into this lake, the\ndemons exhibited their anger by furious storms. In one part of the\nmountain was perpetual snow and ice, with abundance of crystal. At its\nfoot flowed a river, whose sands were of gold; and the precious metal\nthus obtained, was denominated, by the vulgar, its _cloak_. The mountain\nitself and the parts adjacent, furnished silver; and its inexhaustible\nfertility was not the least surprising.\n\nNot far from hence lived a certain farmer, who was much occupied with\ndomestic matters, and troubled exceedingly by the incessant squalling of\nhis little girl; insomuch, that at length wearied out by the torment,\nin a moment of fretfulness he wished his infant at the devil. This\nincautious desire was scarcely uttered, ere the girl was seized by an\ninvisible hand, and carried off. Seven years afterwards, a person\njourneying at the foot of the mountain near the farmer's dwelling,\ndistinguished a man hurrying along at a prodigious rate, and uttering\nthe most doleful complaints. He stopped to inquire the occasion; and\nwas told, that for the space of seven years last passed, he had been\ncommitted to the custody of the demons upon that mountain, who daily\nmade use of him as of a chariot, in consequence of an unwary exclamation\nto that effect. The traveller startled at an assertion so extraordinary,\nand a little incredulous, was informed that his neighbour had suffered\nin a similar degree; for that having hastily committed his daughter to\ntheir power, they had instantly borne her off. He added, that the\ndemons, weary of instructing the girl, would willingly restore her,\nprovided the father presented himself on the mountain and there received\nher.\n\nThe auditor, thunder-struck at this communication, doubted whether he\nshould conceal things so incredible, or relate them as he had heard. He\ndetermined, at last, to declare the girl's situation to her father; and\nhastening, accordingly, found him still bewailing the lengthened absence\nof his daughter. Ascertaining the cause, he went on to state what he had\nheard from the man whom the devils used as a chariot. \"Therefore,\" said\nhe, \"I recommend you, attesting the divine name, to demand of these\ndevils the restitution of your daughter.\" Amazed at what was imparted to\nhim, the father deliberated upon the best method of proceeding; and\nfinally, pursued the counsel of the traveller. Ascending the mountain,\nhe passed forward to the lake, and adjured the demons to restore the\ngirl whom his folly had committed to them. Suddenly a violent blast\nswept by him, and a girl of lofty stature stood in his presence. Her\neyes were wild and wandering, and her bones and sinews were scarcely\ncovered with skin. Her horrible countenance discovered no sign of\nsensibility; and, ignorant of all language, she scarcely could be\nacknowledged for a human being. The father, wondering at her strange\nappearance, and doubtful whether she should be taken to his own home or\nnot, posted to the bishop of Girona, and with a sorrowful aspect\ndetailed what had befallen him; at the same time requesting his advice.\nThe bishop, as a religious man, and one entrusted with a charge of so\nmuch importance, narrated every circumstance respecting the girl to his\ndiocese. He warned them against rashly committing their fortunes to the\npower of concealed demons; and showed that our adversary the devil, as a\nraging lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour; that he will slay\nthose who are given to him, and hold them in eternal bonds.\n\nThe man who was used by the devils as a chariot, a long time remained in\nthis miserable situation. But his subsequent faith and discretion\nemancipated him. He stated that near the above-mentioned place there was\nan extensive subterranean palace, whose entrance was by a single gate,\nenveloped in the thickest darkness. Through this portal the devils, who\nhad been on embassies to various parts of the world, returned, and\ncommunicated to their fellows what they had done. No one could tell of\nwhat the palace was constructed, save themselves, and those who passed\nunder their yoke to eternal damnation. From all which, my beloved, we\nmay gather the dangers we are exposed to, and how cautious we should be\nof invoking the devil to our assistance, as well as of committing our\nfamily to his power. Let us guard our hearts, and beware that he catch\nnot up the sinful soul, and plunge it into the lake of everlasting\nmisery; where there is snow and ice unthawed; crystal, that reflects the\nawakened and agonized conscience perpetually burning with immortal fire.\n\n\n\n\nXXVII.--A VERSE EXERCISE.\n\n\nAlexander had an only son called Celestinus, whom he loved with the\nutmost tenderness. He desired to have him well instructed; and sending\nfor a certain philosopher, said, \"Sir, instruct my son, and I will pay\nyou bountifully.\" The philosopher agreed, and took the boy home with\nhim. He diligently performed his duty; and it happened, that one day\nentering a meadow with his pupil, they saw a horse lying on the ground,\ngrievously affected with the mange. Near the animal two sheep were tied\ntogether, which busily cropped the grass that grew around them. It so\nchanced that the sheep were on each side of the horse, and the cord with\nwhich they were bound passed over his back, and chafing the sores,\ngalled him exceedingly. Disturbed by this, he got up; but the cord, then\nloaded with the weight of the sheep, afflicted him more and more; and\nfilled with fury, he began to run off at a great speed, dragging along\nthe unfortunate sheep. And in equal proportion to their resistance was\nthe increase of the horse's suffering, for the cord, having worn itself\ninto a hollow, sunk, at every struggle, deeper into the wound.\n\nAdjoining the meadow was the house of a miller, toward which the horse,\nimpelled by the anguish of his wound, galloped, and entered, with the\nsheep hanging as we have said. The house was then unoccupied; but there\nwas a fire burning upon the hearth; and the horse plunging and striking\nhis hoofs, so scattered the fire, that the flame caught hold of the\nbuilding, and burnt all to ashes, together with the horse and the sheep.\n\"Young man,\" said the preceptor to his pupil, \"you have witnessed the\nbeginning, the middle, and the end of this incident: make me some\ncorrect verses upon it; and show me why the house was burnt. Unless you\ndo this, I promise I will punish you severely.\"\n\nCelestinus, during the absence of his master, applied himself diligently\nto study, but he was unable to do his task. This much troubled him; and\nthe devil, ever on the alert, met him in the likeness of a man, and\nsaid, \"My son, what has made you so sorrowful?\"\n\n_Celest._ \"Never mind; it is no use telling you.\"\n\n_Devil._ \"You know not that; tell me, and I will help you.\"\n\n\n_Celest._ \"I am charged, under a heavy punishment, to make some verses\nabout a scabby horse and two sheep, and I don't know how.\"\n\n_Devil._ \"Young man, I am the devil in a human form, and the best poet\ngoing; care nothing about your master, but promise to serve me\nfaithfully, and I will compose such delectable verses for you that they\nshall excel those of your pedagogue himself.\"\n\nCelestinus, tempted by this insidious proposal, gave his word to serve\nhim faithfully if he fulfilled his engagement.\n\nThe devil then produced the following verses:--\n\n  Bound by a thong, that passed along\n    A horse's mangy hide;\n  Two sheep there lay, as I you say,\n    One upon either side.\n\n  The steed uprose, and upward goes\n    Each sheep with dangling breech;\n  Borne by the horse's rapid course,\n    The miller's hut they reach.\n\n  Scattering the fire, with reckless ire,\n    The rafters caught the flame;\n  And bleating breed and scabby steed\n    Were roasted in the same.\n\n  Now had that wight, that miller hight,\n    Vouchsafed his house to keep;\n  Ere he returned, it had not burned,\n    Nor burned his horse and sheep.[8]\n\nThe boy, made happy by the present, returned home.\n\n_Master._ \"My child, have you stolen your verses, or made them?\"\n\n_Celest._ \"I made them, sir.\"\n\nHe then read what we have given above; and the master, struck with the\ngreatest astonishment at their uncommon beauty, exclaimed, \"My dear boy,\ntell me if any one made these verses for you?\"\n\n_Celest._ \"No, sir; no one did.\"\n\n_Master._ \"Unless you tell me the truth, I will flog you till the blood\nrun.\"\n\nThe lad, fearful of what might follow, declared all that occurred, and\nhow he had bound himself to the devil. The preceptor, grieved at the\ncommunication, induced the youth to confess himself, and renounce this\nfearful confederacy. When this was done he became a holy man; and after\na well-spent life, gave up his soul to God.\n\n\n\n\nXXVIII.--BRED IN THE BONE.\n\n\nThere reigned some time in Rome a wise and mighty emperor, named Anselm,\nwho did bear in his arms a shield of silver with five red roses. This\nemperor had three sons, whom he loved much. He had also continual war\nwith the king of Egypt, in which war he lost all his temporal goods\nexcept a precious tree. It fortuned after on a day that he gave\nbattle to the same king of Egypt, wherein he was grievously wounded;\nnevertheless, he obtained the victory, notwithstanding he had his deadly\nwound. Wherefore, while he lay at point of death, he called unto his\neldest son, and said: \"My dear and well-beloved son, all my temporal\nriches are spent, and almost nothing is left me but a precious tree, the\nwhich stands in the midst of my empire. I give to thee all that is under\nthe earth and above the earth of the same tree.\" \"O my reverend\nfather,\" quoth he, \"I thank you much.\"\n\nThen said the emperor, \"Call to me my second son.\" Anon the eldest son,\ngreatly joying of his father's gift, called in his brother. And when he\ncame, the emperor said, \"My dear son, I may not make my testament,\nforasmuch as I have spent all my goods, except a tree which stands in\nthe midst of mine empire, of the which tree, I bequeath to thee all that\nis great and small.\" Then answered he and said, \"My reverend father, I\nthank you much.\"\n\nThen said the emperor, \"Call to me my third son.\" And so it was done.\nAnd when he was come the emperor said, \"My dear son, I must die of these\nwounds, and I have only a precious tree, of which I have given thy\nbrethren their portion, and to thee I bequeath thy portion; for I will\nthat thou have of the said tree all that is wet and dry.\" Then said his\nson, \"Father, I thank you.\"\n\nSoon after the emperor had made his bequest, he died. And the eldest son\ntook possession of the tree. Now when the second son heard this, he came\nto him, saying, \"My brother, by what law or title occupy you this tree?\"\n\"Dear brother,\" quoth he, \"I occupy it by this title: my father gave me\nall that is under the earth, and above of the said tree, by reason\nthereof the tree is mine.\" \"Unknowing to thee,\" quoth the second brother,\n\"he gave unto me all that is great and small of the said tree, and\ntherefore I have as great right in the tree as you.\" This hearing, the\nthird son he came to them and said, \"My well-beloved brethren, it\nbehoveth you not to strive for this tree, for I have as much right in\nthe tree as ye, for by the law ye wot that the last will and testament\nought to stand, for of truth he gave me of the said tree all that is wet\nand dry, and therefore the tree by right is mine; but forasmuch as your\nwords are of great force and mine also, my counsel is that we be judged\nby reason, for it is not good nor commendable that strife or dissension\nshould be among us. Here beside dwelleth a king full of reason; therefore,\nto avoid strife, let us go to him, and each of us lay his right before\nhim, and as he shall judge, let us stand to his judgment.\" Then said his\nbrethren, \"Thy counsel is good.\" Wherefore they went all three unto the\nking of reason, and each of them severally showeth forth his right unto\nhim, as it is said before.\n\nWhen the king had heard the titles, he rehearsed them all again\nseverally, first saying to the eldest son thus: \"You say,\" quoth the\nking, \"that your father gave you all that is under the earth and above\nthe earth of the said tree. And to the second brother he bequeathed all\nthat is great and small of that tree. And to the third brother he gave\nall that is wet and dry.\"\n\nAnd with that he laid the law to them, and said that this will ought to\nstand.\n\n\"Now, my dear friends, briefly I shall satisfy all your requests;\" and\nwhen he had thus said, he turned him unto the eldest brother, saying,\n\"My dear friend, if you list to abide the judgment of right, it behoveth\nyou to be letten blood of the right arm.\" \"My lord,\" quoth he, \"your\nwill shall be done.\" Then the king called for a discreet physician,\ncommanding him to let him blood.\n\nWhen the eldest son was letten blood, the king said unto them all three,\n\"My dear friends, where is your father buried?\" Then answered they, and\nsaid, \"Forsooth, my lord, in such a place.\" Anon the king commanded to\ndig in the ground for the body, and to take a bone out of his breast,\nand to bury the body again: and so it was done. And when the bone was\ntaken out, the king commanded that it should be laid in the blood of the\nelder brother, and it should lie till it had received kindly the blood,\nand then to be laid in the sun and dried, and after that it should\nbe washed with clear water. His servants fulfilled all that he had\ncommanded: and when they began to wash, the blood vanished clean away;\nwhen the king saw this, he said to the second son, \"It behoveth that\nthou be letten blood, as thy brother was.\" Then said he, \"My lord's will\nshall be fulfilled,\" and anon he was done unto like as his brother was\nin all things, and when they began to wash the bone, the blood vanished\naway. Then said the king to the third son, \"It behoveth thee to be\nletten blood likewise.\" He answered and said, \"My lord, it pleaseth me\nwell so to be.\" When the youngest brother was letten blood, and done\nunto in all things as the two brethren were before, then the king's\nservants began to wash the bone, but neither for washing nor rubbing\nmight they do away the blood of the bone, but it ever appeared bloody:\nwhen the king saw this, he said, \"It appeareth openly now that this\nblood is of the nature of the bone, thou art his true son, and the other\ntwo are bastards. I judge thee the tree for evermore.\"\n\n\n\n\nXXIX.--FULGENTIUS.\n\n\nIn Rome some time dwelt a mighty emperor named Martin, which for entire\naffection kept with him his brother's son, whom men called Fulgentius.\nWith this Martin dwelt also a knight that was steward of the empire, and\nuncle unto the emperor, which envied this Fulgentius, studying day and\nnight how he might bring the emperor and this youth at debate. Wherefore\nthe steward on a day went to the emperor, and said, \"My lord,\" quoth he,\n\"I that am your true servant, am bound in duty to warn your highness, if\nI hear anything that toucheth your honour, wherefore I have such things\nthat I must needs utter it in secret to your majesty between us two.\"\nThen said the emperor, \"Good friend, say on what thee list.\"\n\n\"My most dear lord,\" quoth the steward, \"Fulgentius, your cousin and\nyour nigh kinsman, hath defamed you wonderfully and shamefully throughout\nall your whole empire, saying that your breath stinketh, and that it is\ndeath to him to serve your cup.\" Then the emperor was grievously\ndispleased, and almost beside himself for anger, and said unto him thus:\n\"I pray thee, good friend, tell me the very truth, if that my breath\nstinketh as he saith?\" \"My lord,\" quoth the steward, \"ye may believe\nme, I never perceived a sweeter breath in my days than yours is.\"\n\"Then,\" said the emperor, \"I pray thee, good friend, tell me how I may\nbring this thing to good proof.\"\n\nThe steward answered and said: \"My lord,\" quoth he, \"ye shall right well\nunderstand the truth; for to-morrow next when he serveth you of your cup,\nye shall see that he will turn away his face from you, because of your\nbreath, and this is the most certain proof that may be had of this\nthing.\" \"Verily,\" quoth the emperor, \"a truer proof cannot be had of\nthis thing.\" Therefore anon, when the steward heard this, he went\nstraight to Fulgentius, and took him aside, saying thus: \"Dear friend,\nthou art near kinsman and also nephew unto my lord the emperor, therefore\nif thou wilt be thankful unto me, I will tell thee of a fault whereof my\nlord the emperor complaineth oft, and thinks to put thee from him,\nexcept it be the sooner amended, and that will be a great reproof to\nthee.\" Then said this Fulgentius: \"Ah, good sir, for his love that died\nupon the cross, tell me why my lord is so sore moved with me, for I am\nready to amend my fault in all that I can or may, and for to be ruled by\nyour discreet counsel.\"\n\n\"Thy breath,\" quoth the steward, \"stinketh so sore, that his drink doth\nhim no good, so grievous unto him is the stinking breath of thy mouth.\"\nThen said Fulgentius unto the steward: \"Truly; that perceived I never\ntill now. But what think ye of my breath? I pray you tell me the very\ntruth.\" \"Truly,\" quoth the steward, \"it stinketh greatly and foul.\" And\nthis Fulgentius believed all that he had said, and was right sorrowful\nin his mind, and prayed the steward of his counsel and help in this\nwoeful case. Then said the steward unto him, \"If that thou wilt do my\ncounsel, I shall bring this matter to a good conclusion; wherefore do as\nI shall tell thee.\n\n\"I counsel thee for the best, and also warn thee that when thou servest\nmy lord the emperor of his cup, that thou turn thy face away from him,\nso that he may not smell thy stinking breath, until the time that thou\nhast provided thee of some remedy therefore.\"\n\nThen was Fulgentius right glad, and sware to him that he would do by his\ncounsel.\n\nNot long after it befell that this young man Fulgentius served his lord\nas he was wont to do, and therewith suddenly he turned his face from the\nlord the emperor, as the steward had taught him.\n\nAnd when the emperor perceived the avoiding of his head, he smote this\nyoung Fulgentius on the breast with his foot, and said to him thus: \"O\nthou lewd varlet; now I see well it is true that I have heard of thee,\nand therefore go thou anon out of my sight, that I may see thee no more\nin this place.\" And with that this young Fulgentius wept full sore, and\navoided the place, and went out of his sight.\n\nAnd when this was done, the emperor called unto him his steward, and\nsaid, \"How may I rid this varlet from the world, that thus hath defamed\nme?\" \"My most dear lord,\" quoth the steward, \"right well you shall have\nyour intent.\n\n\"For here beside, within these three miles, ye have brickmakers, which\ndaily make great fire, for to burn brick, and also they make lime;\ntherefore, my lord, send to them this night, charge them upon pain of\ndeath, that whosoever cometh to them first in the morning, saying to\nthem thus, 'My lord commandeth them to fulfil his will,' that they take\nhim and cast him into the furnace and burn him: and this night command\nyou this Fulgentius, that he go early in the morning to your workmen,\nand that he ask them whether they have fulfilled your will which they\nwere commanded or not; and then shall they, according to your\ncommandment, cast him into the fire, and thus shall he die an evil\ndeath.\"\n\n\"Surely,\" quoth the emperor, \"thy counsel is good; therefore call to me\nthat varlet Fulgentius.\" And when the young man was come to the\nemperor's presence, he said to him thus: \"I charge thee upon pain of\ndeath, that thou rise early in the morning, and go to the burners of\nlime and brick, and that thou be with them early before the sun rise,\nthree miles from this house, and charge them in my behalf, that they\nfulfil my commandment, or else they shall die a most shameful death.\"\n\nThen spake this Fulgentius: \"My lord, if God send me my life, I shall\nfulfil your will, were it that I go to the world's end.\"\n\nWhen Fulgentius had this charge, he could not sleep for thought, that he\nmust rise early to fulfil his lord's commandment. The emperor about\nmidnight sent a messenger on horseback unto his brickmakers, commanding,\nthat upon pain of death, that whosoever came to them first in the\nmorning, saying unto them (as is before rehearsed) they should take him\nand bind him, and cast him into the fire, and burn him to the bare\nbones.\n\nThe brickmakers answered and said, it should be done. Then the messenger\nreturns home again, and told the emperor that his commandment should be\ndiligently fulfilled.\n\nEarly in the morning following, Fulgentius arose and prepared him\ntowards his way, and as he went, he heard a bell ring to service,\nwherefore he went to hear service, and after the end of service he fell\nasleep, and there slept a long while so soundly, that the priest, nor\nnone other, might awake him.\n\nThe steward desiring inwardly to hear of his death, about two of the\nclock he went to the workmen, and said unto them thus: \"Sirs,\" quoth he,\n\"have ye done the emperor's commandment or not?\"\n\nThe brickmakers answered him and said: \"No, truly, we have not yet done\nhis commandment, but it shall be done,\" and with that they laid hands on\nhim. Then cried the steward, and said, \"Good sirs, save my life, for the\nemperor commanded that Fulgentius should be put to death.\" Then said\nthey, \"The messenger told us not so, but he bade us, that whosoever came\nfirst in the morning, saying, as you have said, that we should take him,\nand cast him into the furnace, and burn him to ashes.\" And with that\nthey threw him into the fire.\n\nAnd when he was burnt, Fulgentius came to them and said, \"Good sirs,\nhave you done my lord's commandment?\" \"Yea, soothly,\" said they, \"and\ntherefore go ye again to the emperor, and tell him so.\" Then said\nFulgentius, \"For Christ's love, tell me that commandment?\"\n\n\"We had in commandment,\" said they, \"upon pain of death, that whosoever\ncame to us first in the morning, and said like as thou hast said, that\nwe should take him and cast him into the furnace. But before thee came\nthe steward and therefore on him have we fulfilled the emperor's\ncommandment; now he is burnt to the bare bones.\"\n\nWhen Fulgentius heard this, he thanked God that he had so preserved him\nfrom death; therefore he took his leave of the workmen, and went again\nto the palace.\n\nWhen the emperor saw him, he was almost distract of his wits for anger,\nand thus he said, \"Hast thou been with the brickmakers, and fulfilled my\ncommandment?\" \"Soothly, my gracious lord, I have been there, but ere I\nam there, your commandment was fulfilled.\" \"How may that be true,\" quoth\nthe emperor.\n\n\"Forsooth,\" said Fulgentius, \"the steward came to them afore me, and\nsaid that I should have said, so they took him and threw him into the\nfurnace; and if I had come any earlier, so would they have done to me,\nand therefore I thank God that he hath preserved me from death.\"\n\nThen said the emperor, \"Tell me the truth of such questions as I shall\ndemand of thee.\" Then said Fulgentius to the emperor, \"You never found\nme in any falsehood, and therefore I greatly wonder why ye have ordained\nsuch a death for me; for well ye know that I am your own brother's son.\"\nThen said the emperor to Fulgentius: \"It is no wonder, for that death I\nordained for thee, through counsel of the steward, because thou didst\ndefame me throughout all my empire, saying, that my breath did stink so\ngrievously, that it was death to thee, and in token thereof thou\nturnedst away thy face when thou servedst me of my cup, and that I saw\nwith mine eyes; and for this cause I ordained for thee such a death; and\nyet thou shalt die, except I hear a better excuse.\"\n\nThen answered Fulgentius, and said, \"Ah, dear lord, if it might please\nyour highness for to hear me, I shall show you a subtle and deceitful\nimagination.\" \"Say on,\" quoth the emperor.\n\n\"The steward,\" quoth Fulgentius, \"that is now dead, came to me and said,\nthat ye told unto him that my breath did stink, and thereupon he\ncounselled me, that when I served you of your cup, I should turn my face\naway; I take God to witness, I lie not.\"\n\nWhen the emperor heard this, he believed him, and said, \"O my nephew,\nnow I see, through the right wise judgment of God, the steward is burnt,\nand his own wickedness and envy is fallen on himself, for he ordained\nthis malice against thee, and therefore thou art much bound to Almighty\nGod that hath preserved thee from death.\"\n\n\n\n\nXXX.--VENGEANCE DEFERRED.\n\n\nA law was made at Rome, that no man should marry for beauty, but for\nriches only; and that no woman should be united to a poor man, unless he\nshould by some means acquire wealth equal to her own. A certain poor\nknight solicited the hand of a rich lady, but she reminded him of the\nlaw, and desired him to use the best means of complying with it, in\norder to effect their union. He departed in great sorrow; and after much\ninquiry, was informed of a rich duke, who had been blind from the day of\nhis birth. Him he resolved to murder, and obtain his wealth; but found\nthat he was protected in the daytime by several armed domestics, and at\nnight by the vigilance of a faithful dog. He contrived, however, to kill\nthe dog with an arrow, and immediately afterwards the master; with whose\nmoney he returned to the lady. He informed her that he had accomplished\nhis purpose; and being asked how this had been done in so short a space\nof time, he told all that had happened.\n\nThe lady desired, before the marriage should take place, that he would\ngo to the spot where the duke was buried, lay himself on his tomb,\nlisten to what he might hear, and then report it to her. The knight\narmed himself, and went accordingly. In the middle of the night he heard\na voice saying, \"O duke, that liest here, what askest thou that I can do\nfor thee?\" The answer was, \"O Jesus, thou upright judge, all that I\nrequire is vengeance for my blood unjustly spilt.\" The voice rejoined,\n\"Thirty years from this time thy wish shall be fulfilled.\" The knight,\nextremely terrified, returned with the news to the lady. She reflected\nthat thirty years were a long time, and resolved on the marriage. During\nthe whole thirty years the parties remained in perfect happiness.\n\nWhen the thirty years were nearly passed, the knight built a strong\ncastle, and over one of the gates, in a conspicuous place, caused the\nfollowing verses to be written--\n\n  \"In my distress, religious aid I sought:\n  But my distress relieved, I held it nought.\n  The wolf was sick, a lamb he seemed to be;\n  But health restored, a wolf again was he.\"\n\nInterrogated as to the meaning of these enigmatical lines, the knight at\nonce explained them, by relating his own story, and added, that in eight\ndays time the thirty years would expire.\n\nHe invited all his friends to a feast at that date, and when the day was\narrived, the guests placed at table, and the minstrels attuning their\ninstruments of music, a beautiful bird flew in at the window, and began\nto sing with uncommon sweetness. The knight listened attentively and\nsaid, \"I fear this bird prognosticates misfortune.\" He then took his\nbow, and shot an arrow into it, in presence of all the company.\nInstantly the castle divided into two parts, and, with the knight, his\nwife, and all who were in it, was precipitated to the lowest depth of\nthe infernal regions. The story adds, that on the spot where the castle\nstood, there is now a spacious lake, on which no substance whatever\nfloats, but is immediately plunged to the bottom.\n\n\n\n\nA DISCOURSE\nOF THE\nMOST FAMOUS DR. JOHN FAUSTUS,\nOF WITTENBURG, IN GERMANY.\nCONJURER AND NECROMANCER;\n\n\n_WHEREIN IS DECLARED MANY STRANGE THINGS\nTHAT HIMSELF HAD SEEN AND DONE IN\nTHE EARTH AND AIR, WITH HIS\nBRINGING UP, HIS TRAVELS, STUDIES, AND LAST END._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAMOUS HISTORY\nOF\nDOCTOR FAUSTUS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n_Of his Parentage and Birth._\n\n\nJohn Faustus, born in the town of Rhodes, being in the province of\nWeimar, in Germany, his father a poor husbandman, and not able well to\nbring him up, yet having an uncle at Wittenburg, a rich man, and without\nissue, took this Faustus from his father, and made him his heir,\ninsomuch that his father was no more troubled with him, for he remained\nwith his uncle at Wittenburg, where he was kept at the university in the\nsame city, to study Divinity; but Faustus being of a naughty mind, and\notherwise addicted, plyed not his studies, but betook himself to other\nexercises, which his uncle oftentimes hearing, rebuked him for it; as\nEli oftentimes rebuked his children for sinning against the Lord, even\nso this good old man laboured to have Faustus apply his study to\nDivinity, that he might come to the knowledge of God and his law. But it\nis manifest that many virtuous parents have wicked children, as Cain,\nReuben, Absolom, and such like, have been to their parents. So Faustus\nhaving godly parents, who seeing him to be of a toward wit, were\ndesirous to bring him up in those virtuous studies, namely, of Divinity;\nbut he gave himself secretly to necromancy, and conjuration, insomuch\nthat few or none could perceive his profession.\n\nBut to the purpose, Faustus continued at study in the university, and\nwas by the rectors, and sixteen masters afterwards, examined how he had\nprofited in his studies, and being found by them, that none of his time\nwere able to argue with him in divinity, or for the excellency of his\nwisdom to compare with him, with one consent they made him Doctor of\nDivinity. But Doctor Faustus, within short time after he had obtained\nhis degree, fell into such fantasies, and deep cogitations, that he was\nmocked of many, and of the most part of the students was called the\nSpeculator, and sometimes he would throw the Scriptures from him, as\nthough he had no care of his former profession, so that he began a most\nungodly life, as hereafter more at large may appear, for the old proverb\nsaith, \"Who can hold what will away?\" So, who can hold Faustus from the\ndevil, that seeks after him with all his endeavours; for he accompanied\nhimself with divers that were seen in those devilish arts, and that had\nthe Chaldean, Persian, Hebrew, Arabian, and Greek tongues, using\nfigures, characters, conjurations, incantations, with many other\nceremonies belonging to those infernal arts, as necromancy, charms,\nsoothsaying, witchcraft, enchantment, being delighted with their books,\nwords, and names so well, that he studied day and night therein,\ninsomuch that he could not abide to be called Doctor of Divinity,\nbut waxed a worldly man, and named himself an astrologian, and a\nmathematician, and for a shadow sometimes a physician, and did great\ncures, namely with herbs, roots, waters, drinks, receipts and glysters;\nand without doubt he was passing wise and excellent perfect in Holy\nScripture. But he that knoweth his master's will, and doth it not, is\nworthy to be beaten with many stripes. It is written, \"No man can serve\ntwo masters, and thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.\" But Faustus\nthrew all this in the wind, and made his soul of no estimation,\nregarding more his worldly pleasures than the joys to come; therefore at\nthe day of judgment, there is no hope of his redemption.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n_How Doctor Faustus began to practise his devilish Art, and how he\nconjured the Devil, making him to appear, and meet him on the\nmorrow-morning at his own House._\n\n\nYou have heard before that all Faustus's mind was to study the arts of\nnecromancy and conjuration, the which exercise he followed day and\nnight, and taking to him the wings of an eagle thought to fly over the\nwhole world, and to know the secrets of heaven and earth, for his\nspeculation was so wonderful, being expert in using his vocabula,\nfigures, characters, conjuration, and other ceremonial actions, that in\nall haste he put in practice to bring the devil before him, and taking\nhis way to a thick wood near to Wittenburg, called in the German tongue,\nSpisser Holt, that is in English, the Spisser's Wood, as Faustus would\noftentimes boast of it among the crew, being in jollity, he came into\nthe wood one evening into the cross-way, where he made with a wand a\ncircle in the dust, and within that many more circles and characters;\nand thus he past away the time until it was nine or ten of the clock in\nthe night, then began Dr. Faustus to call on Mephistophiles the Spirit,\nand to charge him in the name of Belzebub, to appear there presently,\nwithout any long stay.\n\nThen presently the devil began so great a rumour in the wood, as if\nheaven and earth would have come together, with wind, and the trees\nbowed their tops to the ground, then fell the devil to roar, as if the\nwhole wood had been full of lions, and suddenly about the circle run\nthe devil, as if a thousand waggons had been running together on\npaved-stones. After this, at the four corners of the wood it thundered\nhorribly, with such lightning, as the whole world to his seeming had\nbeen on fire. Faustus all this while, half amazed at the devil's so long\ntarrying, and doubting whether he were best to abide any more such\nhorrible conjurings, thought to leave his circle, and depart, whereupon\nthe devil made him such music of all sorts, as if the nymphs themselves\nhad been in place: whereat Faustus revived, and stood stoutly in his\ncircle, expecting his purpose, and began again to conjure the spirit\nMephistophiles in the name of the Prince of Devils, to appear in his\nlikeness: whereat suddenly, over his head hung hovering in the air a\nmighty dragon; then calls Faustus again after his devilish manner, at\nwhich there was a monstrous cry in the wood, as if hell had been open,\nand all the tormented souls cursing their condition.\n\nPresently, not three fathoms above his head, fell a flame in manner of\nlightning, and changed itself into a globe; yet Faustus feared it not,\nbut did persuade himself that the devil should give him his request\nbefore he would leave. Oftentimes after to his companions he would boast\nthat he had the stoutest head under the cope of heaven at command.\nWhereat they answered, They knew no stouter than the Pope or Emperor.\nBut Dr. Faustus said, \"The head that is my servant, is above all upon\nearth;\" and repeated certain words out of St. Paul to the Ephesians, to\nmake his argument good, \"The Prince of the World is upon earth and under\nheaven.\" Well, let us come again to his conjuration, where we left him\nat the fiery globe; Faustus, vexed at his spirit's so long tarrying,\nused his charms, with full purpose not to depart before he had his\nintent; and crying on Mephistophiles the spirit, suddenly the globe\nopened, and sprung up in the height of a man, so burning a time, in the\nend it converted to the shape of a fiery man. This pleasant beast ran\nabout the circle a great while, and lastly appeared in the manner of a\nGray Friar, asking Faustus what was his request.\n\nFaustus commanded, that the next morning at twelve of the clock, he\nshould appear to him at his house; but the devil would in no wise grant\nit. Faustus began to conjure him again, in the name of Belzebub, that he\nshould fulfil his request; whereupon the spirit agreed, and so they\ndeparted each on his way.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n_The Conference of Doctor Faustus, with his Spirit Mephistophiles, the\nMorning following at his own House._\n\n\nDr. Faustus, having commanded the spirit to be with him, at his hour\nappointed, he came and appeared in his chamber, demanding of Faustus\nwhat his desire was. Then began Dr. Faustus anew with him, to conjure\nhim, That he would be obedient unto him, and to answer him certain\narticles, to fulfil them in all points:\n\n  1. That the spirit would serve him, and be obedient unto him in\n  all things that he asked of him, from that hour until the hour of\n  his death.\n\n  2. Further, anything that he desired of him, he should bring him.\n\n  3. Also that in all Faustus's demands and interrogations, the\n  spirit should tell him nothing but that which was true.\n\nHereupon the spirit answered, and laid his case forth, that he had no\nsuch power of himself until he had first given his prince (that was\nruler over him) to understand thereof, and to know if he could obtain so\nmuch of his lord: \"Therefore speak farther, that I may do thy whole\ndesire to my prince; for it is not in my power to fulfil without his\nleave.\"\n\n\"Show me the cause why?\" said Faustus.\n\nThe spirit answered Faustus: \"Thou shalt understand, that with us it is\neven as well a kingdom as with you on earth; yea, we have our rulers and\nservants, as I myself am one; and we have our whole number the legion,\nfor although that Lucifer is thrust and fallen out of heaven, through\nhis pride and high mind, yet he hath notwithstanding a legion of devils\nat his command, that we call the Oriental Princes, for his power is\ninfinite; also there is a power in meridie, in septentrio, in occidente,\nand for that Lucifer hath his kingdom under heaven; we must change and\ngive ourselves to men, to serve them at their pleasure. It is also\ncertain, we have not as yet opened to any man the truth of our dwelling,\nneither of our ruling, neither what our power is; neither have we given\nany man any gift, or learned him anything, except he promise to be\nours.\"\n\nDr. Faustus upon this arose where he sat, and said, \"I will have my\nrequest, and yet I will not be damned.\"\n\nThe spirit answered: \"Then shalt thou want thy desire, and yet art thou\nmine notwithstanding; if any men would detain thee, it is but in vain,\nfor thy infidelity hath confounded thee.\"\n\nHereupon spake Faustus: \"Get thee hence from me, and take St. Valentine's\nfarewell, and Crisman with thee; yet I conjure thee, that thou be here\nat evening, and bethink thyself of what I have asked thee; ask thy\nprince's counsel therein.\"\n\nMephistophiles the spirit, thus answered, vanished away, leaving Faustus\nin his study, where he sat pondering with himself how he might obtain\nhis request of the devil, without the loss of his soul; yet he was fully\nresolved in himself, rather than to want his pleasure, to do what the\nspirit and his lord should condition upon.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n_The second Time of the Spirit's appearing to Faustus at his House, and\ntheir Parley._\n\n\nFaustus continued in his devilish cogitations, never moving out of the\nplace where the spirit left him, such was his fervent love to the devil;\nthe night approaching, this swift-flying spirit appeared to Faustus,\noffering himself with all submission to his service, with full authority\nfrom his prince, to do whatsoever he would request; if so be Faustus\nwould promise to be his. \"This answer I bring thee, an answer must thou\nmake by me again: yet I will hear what is thy desire, because thou hast\nsworn to me to be here at this time.\"\n\nDr. Faustus gave him this answer, though faintly for his soul's sake,\nthat his request was none other, but to become a devil, or at least a\nlimb of him, and that the spirit should agree to these articles\nfollowing:\n\n  1. That he might be a spirit in shape and quality.\n\n  2. That Mephistophiles should be his servant at his command.\n\n  3. That Mephistophiles should bring him anything, and do for him\n     whatsoever he desired.\n\n  4. That all times he would be in the house invisible to all men,\n     except only to himself, and at his command to show himself.\n\n  5. That Mephistophiles should at all times appear at his command,\n     in what form or shape soever he would.\n\nUpon these points the spirit answered Dr. Faustus. That all this should\nbe granted him, and fulfilled, and more if he would agree unto him upon\ncertain articles as followeth:\n\n  1. That Dr. Faustus should give himself to the lord Lucifer, body\n     and soul.\n\n  2. For confirmation of the same, he should make him a writing\n     written in his own blood.\n\n  3. That he would be an enemy to all Christian people.\n\n  4. That he would deny the Christian belief.\n\n  5. That he let not any man change his opinion, if so be any man\n     should go about to dissuade or withdraw him from it.\n\nFarther the spirit promised Faustus to give him certain years to live\nin health and pleasure, and when such years were expired, that then\nFaustus would be fetched away; and if he would hold these articles and\nconditions, that then he should have whatsoever his heart would wish or\ndesire; and that Faustus should quickly perceive himself to be a spirit\nin all manner of actions whatsoever. Hereupon Dr. Faustus's mind was\ninflamed, that he forgot his soul, and promises Mephistophiles to hold\nall things as he mentioned them: he thought the devil was not so black\nas they used to paint him, nor hell so hot as the people say.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n_The third Parley between Dr. Faustus and Mephistophiles about a\nConclusion._\n\n\nAfter Dr. Faustus had made his promise to the devil, in the morning\nbetimes he called the spirit before him, and commanded him, that he\nshould always come to him like a friar, after the order of St. Francis,\nwith a bell in his hand like St. Anthony, and to ring it once or twice\nbefore he appeared, that he might know of his certain coming: then\nFaustus demanded of his spirit what was his name?\n\nThe spirit answered, \"My name is as thou sayest, Mephistophiles, and I\nam a prince, but a servant to Lucifer, and all the circuit from\nseptentrio to the meridian, I rule under him.\"\n\nEven at these words was this wicked wretch Faustus inflamed, to hear\nhimself to have gotten so great a potentate to serve him, forgetting the\nLord his Maker, and Christ his Redeemer, he became an enemy to all\nmankind; yea, worse than the giants, whom the poets said to climb the\nhills to make war with the gods, not unlike the enemy of God and Christ,\nthat for his pride was cast into hell; so likewise Faustus forgot, that\nhigh climbers catch the greatest falls, and sweet meats have oft sourest\nsauce.\n\nAfter a while Faustus promised Mephistophiles to write and make his\nobligation with all assurance of the articles in the chapter before\nrehearsed: a pitiful case, Christian reader, for certainly this letter\nor obligation was found in his house, after his most lamentable end,\nwith all the rest of his damnable practices used in his whole life.\n\nWherefore I wish all Christians to take example by this wicked doctor,\nand to be comforted in Christ, concerning themselves with that vocation\nwhereunto it has pleased God to call them, and not so esteem the vain\ndelights of this life as did this unhappy Faustus in giving his soul to\nthe devil: and to confirm it the more assuredly, he took a small\npenknife, and pricked a vein in his left hand, and for certainty\nthereupon were seen on his hand these words written, as if they had been\nwritten in his own blood, O HOMO FUGE; whereat the spirit vanished, but\nFaustus continued in his damnable mind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus set his Blood in a Saucer on warm Ashes, and writ as\nfolloweth:_\n\n\n    I, John Faustus, _doctor, do openly acknowledge with mine own\n    hand, to the great force and strengthening of this letter, that\n    since I began to study, and speculate the course and nature of the\n    elements, I have not found, through the gift that is given me from\n    above, any such learning and wisdom that can bring me to my desire\n    and for that I find that men are unable to instruct me any farther\n    in the matter; now have I, Dr. Faustus, to the hellish prince of\n    Orient, and his messenger Mephistophiles, given both body and\n    soul, upon such conditions, that they shall learn me, and fulfil\n    my desires in all things, as they have promised and vowed unto me,\n    with due obedience unto me, according to the articles mentioned\n    between us._\n\n    Farther, I do covenant and grant _with them by these presents,\n    that at the end of twenty-four years next ensuing, the date of\n    this present letter, they being expired, and I in the mean time,\n    during the said years, be served of them at my will, they\n    accomplishing my desires to the full in all points as we are\n    agreed: that then I give to them all power to do with me at their\n    pleasure, to rule, to send, fetch or carry me or mine, be it\n    either body, soul, flesh, blood or goods, into their habitation,\n    be it wheresoever: and hereupon I defy God and his Christ, all the\n    Host of Heaven, and all living creatures that bear the shape of\n    God; yea, all that live: And again I say it, and it shall be so,\n    and to the more strengthening of this writing, I have written it\n    with my own hand and blood, being in perfect memory: and hereupon\n    I subscribe to it with my name and title, calling all the\n    infernal, middle, and supreme powers to witness of this my letter\n    and subscription._\n\n    John Faustus.\n\n    _Approved in the elements, and the spiritual doctor._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n_How Mephistophiles came for his Writing, and in what manner he\nappeared, and his Sights he showed him; and how he caused him to\nkeep a Copy of his own Writing._\n\n\nDr. Faustus sitting pensive, having but one only boy with him, suddenly\nthere appeared his spirit Mephistophiles in likeness of a very man, from\nwhom issued most horrible fiery flames, insomuch that the boy was\nafraid, but being hardened by his master, he bid him stand still, and he\nshould have no harm: this spirit began to bleat as in a singing manner.\nThis pretty sport pleased Dr. Faustus well; but he would not call his\nspirit into his counting-house until he had seen more. Anon was heard a\nrushing of armed men, and trampling of horses; this ceasing, came a\nkennel of hounds, and they chased a great hart in the hall, and there\nthe hart was slain. Faustus took heart, came forth and looked upon the\nhart, but presently before him there was a lion and a dragon together,\nfighting so fiercely, that Faustus thought they would have thrown down\nthe house; but the dragon overcame the lion, and so they vanished. After\nthis came in a peacock and peahen; the cock, bruising of his tail,\nturning to the female, beat her, and so vanished. Afterward followed a\nfurious bull, that with a full fierceness ran upon Faustus, but coming\nnear him vanished away. Afterward followed a great old ape; this ape\noffered Faustus the hand, but he refused; so the ape ran out of the hall\nagain. Hereupon fell a mist in the hall, that Faustus saw no light, but\nit lasted not; and so soon as it was gone, there lay before Faustus two\ngreat sacks, one full of gold, another of silver.\n\nLastly, was heard by Faustus all manner of instruments of music, as\norgans, clarigolds, lutes, viols, citterns, waits, hornpipes, flutes,\nanomes, harps, and all manner of other instruments, which so ravished\nhis mind, that he thought he had been in another world, forgot both body\nand soul, insomuch that he was minded never to change his opinion\nconcerning that which he had done.\n\nHereat came Mephistophiles into the hall to Faustus, in apparel like\nunto a friar, to whom Faustus spake: \"Thou hast done me a wonderful\npleasure in showing me this pastime; if thou continue as thou hast\nbegun, thou shalt win my heart and soul, yea, and have it.\"\n\nMephistophiles answered: \"This is nothing; I will please thee better;\nyea, that thou mayst know my power on all, ask what request thou wilt of\nme, that shalt thou have, conditionally hold thy promise, and give me\nthy handwriting.\" At which words the wretch thrust forth his hand,\nsaying, \"Hold thee, there hast thou my promise.\"\n\nMephistophiles took the writing and willed Faustus to take a copy of it.\nWith that the perverse Faustus being resolute in his damnation, wrote a\ncopy thereof, and gave the devil the one, and kept in store the other.\nThus the spirit and Faustus were agreed, and dwelt together; no doubt\nthere was a virtuous house-keeping.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n_The manner how Faustus proceeded in this damnable Life, and of\nthe diligent Service that Mephistophiles used towards him._\n\n\nDr. Faustus having given his soul to the devil, renouncing all the\npowers of heaven, confirming all his lamentable action with his own\nblood, and having already delivered his writing now into the devil's\nhand, the which so puffed up his heart, that he forgot the mind of a\nman, and thought himself to be a spirit.\n\nThus Faustus dwelt at his uncle's house at Wittenburg, who died, and\nbequeathed it in his testament to his cousin Faustus.\n\nFaustus kept a boy with him, that was his scholar, an unhappy wag,\ncalled Christopher Wagner, to whom this sport and life that he saw his\nmaster followed, seemed pleasant. Faustus loved the boy well, hoping to\nmake him as good or better seen in his hellish exercises than himself,\nand he was fellow with Mephistophiles. Otherwise Faustus had no company\nin his house but himself and boy, and spirit that ever was diligent at\nFaustus's command, going about the house, clothed like a friar, with a\nlittle bell in his hand, seen of none but Faustus.\n\nFor victuals and other necessaries, Mephistophiles brought him at his\npleasure from the Duke of Saxony, the Duke of Bavaria, and the Bishop of\nSalisburg; and they had many times their best wine stolen out of their\ncellars by Mephistophiles, likewise their provisions for their own\ntable. Such meat as Faustus wished for, his spirit brought him in.\nBesides that, Faustus himself was become so cunning, that when he opened\nhis window, what fowl soever he wished for, it came presently flying\ninto the house, were it never so dainty. Moreover, Faustus and his boy\nwent in sumptuous apparel, the which Mephistophiles stole from the\nmercers at Norenburg, Aspurg, Franckford, and Tipzig; for it was hard\nfor them to find a lock to keep out such a thief. All their maintenance\nwas but stolen and borrowed ware; and thus they lived an odious life in\nthe sight of God, though as yet the world were unacquainted with their\nwickedness. It must be so, for their fruits be none other, as Christ\nsaith in John, where he calls the devil a thief and murderer; and that\nfound Faustus, for he stole him away both body and soul.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus would have married, and how the Devil had almost killed\nhim for it._\n\n\nDr. Faustus continued thus in this epicurish life day and night,\nbelieved not that there was a God, hell, or devil: he thought that\nsoul and body died together, and had quite forgot divinity, or the\nimmortality of the soul, but stood in that damnable heresy day and\nnight, and bethinking himself of a wife, called Mephistophiles to\ncouncil: which would in no case agree, demanding of him if he would\nbreak the covenant made with him, or if he had forgot it. \"Hast thou,\"\nquoth Mephistophiles, \"sworn thyself an enemy to God and to all\ncreatures? To this I answer thee, Thou canst not marry, thou canst not\nserve two masters, God and my prince; for wedlock is a chief institution\nordained of God, and that thou hast promised to defy as we do all, and\nthat hast thou not only done, but moreover thou hast confirmed it with\nthy blood, persuade thyself that what thou dost in contempt of wedlock,\nit is all to thy own delight. Therefore, Faustus, look well about thee,\nand bethink thyself better, and I wish thee to change thy mind, for if\nthou keep not what thou hast promised in thy writing, we will tear thee\nin pieces like the dust under thy feet. Therefore, sweet Faustus, think\nwith what unquiet life, anger, strife, and debate thou shalt live in\nwhen thou takest a wife. Therefore change thy mind.\"\n\nDr. Faustus was with these speeches in despair; and as all that have\nforsaken the Lord can build upon no good foundation, so this wretched\ndoctor having forsook the rock, fell into despair with himself, fearing,\nif he should motion matrimony any more, that the devil should tear him\nin pieces. \"For this time,\" quoth he to Mephistophiles, \"I am not\nminded to marry.\" \"Then dost thou well,\" answered his spirit.\n\nBut within two hours after Faustus called again to his spirit, who came\nin his old manner like a friar. Then Faustus said unto him, \"I am not\nable to resist or bridle my fancy; I must and will have a wife, and I\npray thee give thy consent to it.\" Suddenly upon these words came such a\nwhirlwind about the place that Faustus thought the whole house would\nhave come down; all the doors of the house flew off the hooks. After all\nthis his house was full of smoke, and the floor covered with ashes;\nwhich, when Dr. Faustus perceived, he would have gone upstairs, and\nflying up he was taken and thrown down into the hall, that he was not\nable to stir hand nor foot; then round about him ran a monstrous circle\nof fire, never standing still, that Faustus cried as he lay, and\nthought there to have been burned. Then cried he out to his spirit\nMephistophiles for help, promising him he would live, for all this, as\nhe had vowed by his handwriting. Hereupon appeared unto him an ugly\ndevil, so dreadful and monstrous to behold, that Faustus durst not look\non him. The devil said, \"What wouldst thou have, Faustus? How likest\nthou thy wedding? What mind art thou in now?\" Faustus answered, he had\nforgot his promise, desiring of him pardon, and he would talk no more of\nsuch things. \"Thou art best so to do;\" and so vanished from him.\n\nAfter appeared unto him his friar Mephistophiles, with a bell in his\nhand, and spake to Faustus: \"It is no jesting with us; hold thou that\nwhich thou hast vowed, and we will perform that which we have promised;\nand more than that, thou shalt have thy heart's desire of what woman\nsoever thou wilt, be she alive or dead, and so long as thou wilt thou\nshalt keep her by thee.\" These words pleased Faustus wonderful well, and\nrepented himself that he was so foolish to wish himself married, that\nmight have any woman in the whole city brought him at his command, the\nwhich he practised and persevered in a long time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n_Questions put forth by Dr. Faustus unto his Spirit Mephistophiles._\n\n\nDr. Faustus living in all manner of pleasure that his heart could\ndesire, continuing of his amorous drifts, his delicate fare, and costly\napparel, called on a time his Mephistophiles to him, who being come,\nbrought him a book in his hand of all manner of devilish and enchanting\narts, the which he gave Faustus, saying, \"Hold, my Faustus; work now thy\nheart's desire.\" The copy of this enchanting book was afterwards found\nby his servant Christopher Wagner. \"Well,\" quoth Faustus to his spirit,\n\"I have called thee to know what thou canst do if I have need of thy\nhelp.\"\n\nThen answered Mephistophiles, and said, \"My lord Faustus, I am a flying\nspirit, yea, so swift as thought can think, to do whatsoever.\"\n\nHere Faustus said, \"But how came lord and master Lucifer to have so\ngreat a fall from heaven?\"\n\nMephistophiles answered: \"My lord Lucifer was a fair angel, created of\nGod as immortal, and being placed in the Seraphims, which are above the\nCherubims, he would have presumed upon the Throne of God, with intent to\nthrust God out of his seat; upon this presumption the Lord cast him down\nheadlong, and where before he was an angel of light, now dwells in\ndarkness, not able to come near his first place, without God send for\nhim to appear before him; as Raphael, unto the lower degree of angels,\nthat have their conversation with men, he may come, but not unto the\nsecond degree of the heavens, that is kept by the archangels, namely,\nMichael and Gabriel, for these are called Angels of God's wonders;\nthese are far inferior places to that from whence my lord and master\nLucifer fell; and thus far, Faustus, because thou art one of the beloved\nchildren of the lord Lucifer, following thy mind in manner as he did\nhis, I have shortly resolved thy request, and more I will do for thee at\nthy pleasure.\"\n\n\"I thank thee, Mephistophiles,\" quoth Faustus, \"come, let us now go to\nrest, for it is night;\" upon this they left their communication.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus dreamed that he had seen Hell in his Sleep, and how he\nquestioned with the Spirit of matters concerning Hell, with the Spirit's\nanswer._\n\n\nThe night following after Faustus's communication with Mephistophiles,\nas concerning the fall of Lucifer, Dr. Faustus dreamed that he had\nseen a part of hell, but in what manner it was, or in what place, he\nknew not, whereby he was much troubled in mind, and called unto him\nMephistophiles his spirit, saying unto him, \"I pray thee resolve me in\nthis doubt: What is hell? What substance is it of? In what place stands\nit? And when was it made?\"\n\nMephistophiles answered: \"Faustus, thou shalt know, that before the fall\nof my lord Lucifer there was no hell, but even then was hell ordained.\nIt is no substance, but a confused thing; for I tell thee, that before\nall elements were made, or the earth seen, the spirit of God moved upon\nthe waters, and darkness was over all; but when God said, 'Let there be\nlight,' it was at his word, and the light was on God's right hand, and\nhe praised the light. Judge thou farther, God stood in the middle, the\ndarkness was on his left hand, in the which my Lord was bound in chains\nuntil the day of judgment. In this confused hell is nought to find but a\nsulphurish fire, and stinking mist or fog. Farther, we devils know not\nwhat substance it is of, but a confused thing; for as the bubble of\nwater flieth before the wind, so doth hell before the breath of God.\nMoreover, the devils know not how God hath laid the foundation of our\nhell, nor where it is; but to be short, Faustus, we know that hell hath\nneither bottom nor end.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n_The second Question put forth by Dr. Faustus to his Spirit, what\nKingdoms were in Hell, how many, and what were the Rulers' names._\n\n\nFaustus spake again to his spirit, saying, \"Thou speakest of wonderful\nthings: I pray thee now tell me what kingdoms are there in your hell?\nHow many are there? What they are called? And who rules them?\"\n\nThe spirit answered him: \"My Faustus, know that hell is, as thou wouldst\nthink with thyself, another world, in the which we have our being under\nthe earth, even to the heavens; within the circumference whereof are\ncontained ten kingdoms, namely, 1. Lacus Mortis. 2. Stagnum Ignis.\n3. Terra Tenebrosa. 4. Tartarus. 5. Terra Oblivionis. 6. Gehenna.\n7. Erebus. 8. Barathrum. 9. Styx. 10. Acheron. The which kingdoms are\ngoverned by five kings, that is, Lucifer in the Orient, Belzebub in\nSeptentrio, Belial in Meredie, Ascheroth in the Occident, and Phlegeton\nin the midst of them all; whose rules and dominions have no end until\nthe day of doom; and thus far, Faustus, hast thou heard of our rule and\nkingdom.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n_Another Question put forth by Dr. Faustus to his Spirit, concerning his\nLord Lucifer, with the sorrow that Faustus fell afterwards into._\n\n\nDr. Faustus began again to reason with Mephistophiles, requiring him to\ntell in what form and shape, and in what estimation his lord Lucifer\nwas, when he was in favour with God.\n\nWhereupon his spirit required of him three days' respite, which Faustus\ngranted.\n\nThe three days being expired, Mephistophiles gave him this answer:\n\"Faustus, my lord Lucifer (so called now for that he was banished out of\nthe clear light of heaven) was at the first an angel of God, yea, he was\nso of God ordained for shape, pomp, authority, worthiness, and dwelling,\nthat he far exceeded all the other creatures of God, yea, or gold and\nprecious stones; and so illuminated that he far surpassed the brightness\nof the sun, and all other stars where God placed him on the cherubims;\nhe had a kingly office, and was always before God's seat, to the end he\nmight be the more perfect in all his being; but when he began to be\nhigh-minded, proud, and so presumptuous, that he would usurp the seat of\nGod's Majesty, then was he banished out from amongst the heavenly\npowers, separated from their abiding, into the manner of a fiery stone,\nthat no water is able to quench, but continually burneth until the end\nof the world.\"\n\nDr. Faustus, when he had heard the words of his spirit, began to ponder\nwith himself, having divers and sundry opinions in his head, and very\npensively, saying nothing to his spirit, he went into his chamber and\nlaid him on his bed, recording the words of Mephistophiles, which so\npierced his heart that he fell into sighing and great lamentation,\ncrying out, \"Alas! Ah, woe is me! What have I done? Even so shall it\ncome to pass with me: am I not also a creature of God's making, bearing\nhis own image and similitude, into whom he hath breathed the spirit of\nlife and immortality, unto whom he hath made all things living subject;\nbut woe is me! My haughty mind, proud aspiring stomach, and filthy\nflesh, hath brought my soul into perpetual damnation, yea, pride hath\nabused my understanding, insomuch that I have forgot my Maker, the\nSpirit of God is departed from me; I have promised the devil my soul,\nand therefore it is but a folly for me to hope for grace, but it must be\neven with me as with Lucifer, thrown into perpetual burning fire: ah!\nwoe is me that ever I was born.\"\n\nIn this perplexity lay this miserable Dr. Faustus, having quite forgot\nhis faith in Christ, never falling to repentance truly, thereby to\nattain the grace and holy Spirit of God again, the which would have been\nable to have resisted the strong assaults of Satan; for although he had\nmade him a promise, yet he might have remembered, through true\nrepentance sinners may once come again into the favour of God, which\nfaith the faithful firmly hold, knowing they that kill the body are not\nable to hurt the soul; but he was in all his opinions doubtful, without\nfaith or hope, and so he continued.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n_Another disputation betwixt Dr. Faustus and his Spirit, of the Power\nof the Devil, and his Envy to Mankind._\n\n\nAfter Faustus had a while pondered and sorrowed with himself on his\nwretched estate, he called again Mephistophiles unto him, commanding him\nto tell him the judgment, rule, power, attempts, tyranny, and temptation\nof the devil; and why he was moved to such kind of living?\n\nWhereupon the spirit answered to this question: \"That thou demandest of\nme will turn thee to no small discontentment; therefore thou shouldst\nnot have desired of me such matters, for it toucheth the secrets of our\nkingdom, although I cannot deny to resolve thy request: therefore know,\nFaustus, that so soon as my lord Lucifer fell from Heaven, he became\nmortal enemy both to God and man, and hath used, as now he doth, all\nmanner of tyranny to the destruction of man, as is manifested by divers\nexamples: one falling suddenly dead, another hangs himself, another\ndrowns himself, others stab themselves, others unlawfully despair, and\nso come to utter confusion. The first Adam, that was made perfect to the\nsimilitude of God, was by my lord's policy the whole decay of man; yea,\nFaustus, in him was the beginning and first tyranny of my lord Lucifer\nto man. The like did he with Cain; the same with the children of Israel\nwhen they worshipped strange gods, and fell to whoredom with strange\nwomen; the like with Saul; so did he by the seven husbands of her that\nafter was the wife of Tobias; likewise Dagon, our fellow, brought to\ndestruction fifty thousand men, whereupon the ark of God was stolen, and\nBelial made David to number his men, whereupon were slain sixty\nthousand. Also he deceived King Solomon, that worshipped the gods of the\nheathen: and there are such spirits innumerable, that can come by men,\nand tempt them, and drive them to sin, and weaken their belief; for we\nrule the hearts of kings and princes, stirring them up to war and\nbloodshed, and to this intent do we spread ourselves through all the\nworld, as the utter enemies of God and his Son Christ--yea, and all that\nworship them, and that thou knowest by thyself, Faustus. How have we\ndealt by thee?\"\n\nTo this said Faustus: \"Then thou didst also beguile me?\"\n\n\"I did what I could to help thee forward, for as soon as I saw how thy\nheart did despise thy degree taken in divinity, and didst study to\nsearch and know the secrets of our kingdom, then did I enter into thee,\ngiving thee divers foul and filthy cogitations, pricking thee forward in\nthy intent, persuading thee thou couldst never attain to thy desire till\nthou hadst the help of some devil; and when thou wast delighted in this,\nthen took I root in thee, and so firmly, that thou gavest thyself to us\nboth body and soul, which thou canst not deny.\"\n\nHereat answered Faustus: \"Thou sayest true; I cannot deny it. Ah, woe is\nme, most miserable Faustus! How have I been deceived! Had I not had a\ndesire to know too much, I had not been in this case; for having studied\nthe lives of the holy saints and prophets, and thereby thought to\nunderstand sufficient heavenly matters, I thought myself not worthy to\nbe called Dr. Faustus if I should not also know the secrets of hell, and\nbe associated with the furious fiends thereof; now, therefore, must I be\nrewarded accordingly.\"\n\nWhich speeches being uttered, Faustus went very sorrowful away from his\nspirit.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus desired again of his Spirit, to know the Secrets and\nPains of Hell; and whether those damned Devils, and their Company,\nmight ever come to the Favour and Love of God again._\n\n\nDr. Faustus was pondering with himself how he might get loose from so\ndamnable an end as he had given himself unto, both soul and body; but\nhis repenting was like that of Cain and Judas--he thought his sin\ngreater than God could forgive; hereupon resting his mind, he looked up\nto heaven, but saw nothing therein, for his heart was so possessed of\nthe devil that he could think of nought else but of hell and the pains\nthereof.\n\nWherefore in all haste he called unto him his spirit Mephistophiles,\ndesiring him to tell him some more of the secrets of hell; what pain the\ndamned are in, and how they were tormented; and whether the damned souls\nmight get again the favour of God, and so be released out of their\ntorments or not.\n\nWhereupon the spirit answered: \"My Faustus, thou mayst well leave to\nquestion any more of such matters, for they will but disquiet thy mind;\nI pray thee, what meanest thou, thinkest thou through these thy\nfantasies to escape us? No, for if thou shouldst climb up to heaven,\nthere to hide thyself, yet would I thrust thee down again; for thou art\nmine, and thou belongest to our society. Therefore, sweet Faustus, thou\nwilt repent this thy foolish demand, except thou be content that I shall\ntell thee nothing.\"\n\nQuoth Faustus, ragingly: \"I will know, or I will not live, wherefore\ndispatch and tell me.\"\n\nTo whom Mephistophiles answered: \"Faustus, it is no trouble unto me at\nall to tell thee; and therefore since thou forcest me thereto, I will\ntell thee things to the terror of thy soul, if thou wilt abide the\nhearing: thou wilt have me to tell thee of the secrets of hell, and of\nthe pains thereof. Know, Faustus, that hell hath many figures,\nsemblances, and names; but it cannot be named or figured in such sort to\nthe living that are damned, as it is to those that are dead, and do both\nsee and feel the torments thereof: for hell is said to be deadly, out of\nwhich came never any to life again but one, but he is nothing for thee\nto reckon upon; hell is bloodthirsty, and is never satisfied: hell is a\nvalley into which the damned souls fall; for so soon as the soul is out\nof man's body, it would gladly go to the place from whence it came, and\nclimbeth up above the highest hills, even to the heavens, where being by\nthe angels of the first model denied entertainment (in consideration of\ntheir evil life spent on earth), they fall into the deepest pit or\nvalley, that hath no bottom, into a perpetual fire which shall never be\nquenched; for like as the flint thrown in the water loseth not virtue,\nneither is the fire extinguished, even so the hellish fire is\nunquenchable: and even as the flint-stone in the fire burns red hot, and\nconsumeth not, so likewise the damned souls in our hellish fire are ever\nburning, but their pain never diminishing. Therefore is hell called the\neverlasting pain, in which is never hope for mercy; so it is called\nutter darkness, in which we see neither the light, the sun, moon, nor\nstars; and were our darkness like the darkness of night, yet were there\nhope of mercy: but ours is perpetual darkness, clean exempt from the\nface of God. Hell hath also a place within it, called Chasma, out\nof which issueth all manner of thunders and lightnings, with such\nshriekings and wailings, that oftentimes the very devils themselves\nstand in fear thereof; for one while it sendeth forth wind, with\nexceeding snow, hail, and rain, congealing the water into ice, with\nthe which the damned are frozen, gnash their teeth, howl, and cry,\nyet cannot die. Other whiles, it sendeth forth most horrible hot\nmists, or fogs, with flashing of flames of fire and brimstone, wherein\nthe sorrowful souls of the damned lie broiling in their reiterated\ntorments. Yea, Faustus, hell is called a prison, wherein the damned\nlie continually bound; it is called Pernicies and Exitium, death,\ndestruction, hurtfulness, mischief, a mischance, a pitiful and evil\nthing, world without end. We have also with us in hell a ladder,\nreaching of exceeding height, as though the top of the same would touch\nthe heaven, to which the damned ascend to seek the blessing of God, but\nthrough their infidelity, when they are at very highest degree, they\nfall down again into their former miseries, complaining of the heat of\nthat unquenchable fire; yea, sweet Faustus, so much understand thou of\nhell, the while thou art desirous to know the secrets of our kingdom.\nAnd mark, Faustus, hell is the nurse of death, the heat of fire, the\nshadow of heaven and earth, the oblivion of all goodness; the pains\nunspeakable, the griefs unremovable, the dwelling of the devils.\nDragons, serpents, adders, toads, crocodiles, and all manner of venomous\nand noisome creatures; the puddle of sin, the stinking far ascending\nfrom the Stygian lake, brimstone, pitch, and all manner of unclean\nmetals, the perpetual and unquenchable fire, the end of whose miseries\nwas never purposed by God. Yea, yea, Faustus, thou sayest I shall, I\nmust, nay, I will tell thee the secrets of our kingdom, for thou buyest\nit dearly, and thou must and shalt be partaker of our torments, that, as\nthe Lord said, shall never cease, for hell, the woman's belly, and the\nearth, are never satisfied; there shalt thou abide horrible torments,\nhowling, crying, burning, freezing, melting, swimming in a labyrinth of\nmiseries, scolding, smoking in thine eyes, stinking in thy nose,\nhoarseness in thy speech, deafness in thy ears, trembling in thy hands,\nbiting thine own tongue with pain, thy heart crushed as with a press,\nthy bones broken, the devils tossing firebrands unto thee: yea, thy\nwhole carcass tossed upon muck-forks from one devil to another; yea,\nFaustus, then wilt thou wish for death, and he will fly from thee, thine\nunspeakable torments shall be every day augmented more and more, for the\ngreater the sin the greater is the punishment. How likest thou this, my\nFaustus? A resolution answerable to thy request.\n\n\"Lastly, Thou wilt have me tell thee that which only belongeth to God,\nwhich is, if it be possible for the damned to come again into the favour\nof God, or not. Why, Faustus, thou knowest that this is against thy\npromise; for why shouldst thou desire to know that having already given\nthy soul to the devil, to have the pleasure of the world, and to know\nthe secrets of hell; therefore thou art damned, and how canst thou then\ncome again to the favour of God? Wherefore I discreetly answer, no; for\nwhomsoever God hath forsaken and thrown into hell must there abide his\nwrath and indignation in that unquenchable fire, where is no hope of\nmercy to be looked for, but abiding his perpetual pains, world without\nend: for even as much it availeth thee, Faustus, to hope for the favour\nof God again as Lucifer himself; who indeed, although he and we have a\nhope, yet it is to small avail and taketh none effect, for out of that\nplace God will neither hear crying nor singing; if he do, thou shalt\nhave a little remorse, as Dives, Cain, and Judas had. What helpeth the\nemperor, king, prince, duke, earl, baron, lord, knight, esquire, or\ngentleman, to cry for mercy being there? Nothing; for if on earth they\nwould not be tyrants and self-willed, rich with covetousness, proud with\npomp, gluttons, drunkards, whoremongers, backbiters, robbers, murderers,\nblasphemers, and such like, then were there some hope to be looked for;\ntherefore, my Faustus, as thou comest to hell with these qualities thou\nmayst say with Cain, 'My sins are greater than can be forgiven;' go hang\nthyself with Judas; and lastly, be contented to suffer torments with\nDives. Therefore know, Faustus, that the damned have neither end nor\ntime appointed in the which they may hope to be released; for if there\nwere any such hope that they, by throwing one drop of water out of the\nsea in a day until it were dry, or there were one heap of sand as high\nas from the earth to the heavens, that a bird carrying away but one corn\nin a day, at the end of this so long labour, that yet they might hope at\nthe last God would have mercy on them, they would be comforted; but now\nthere is no hope that God once thinks upon them, or that their howling\nshall ever be heard; yea, so impossible it is for thee to hide thyself\nfrom God, as it is impossible for thee to remove the mountains, or to\nempty the sea, or to tell the drops of rain that have fallen from heaven\nuntil this day, or to tell what there is most of in the world; yea, and\nas for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, even so impossible it\nis for thee, Faustus, and the rest of the damned, to come again into the\nfavour of God. And thus, Faustus, hast thou heard my last sentence, and\nI pray thee, how dost thou like it? But know this, that I counsel thee\nto let me be unmolested hereafter with such disputations, or else will I\nvex thee every limb to thy small contentment.\"\n\nDr. Faustus parted from his spirit very pensive and sorrowful, laying\nhim on his bed, altogether doubtful of the grace and favour of God,\nwherefore he fell into fantastical cogitations. Fain he would have had\nhis soul at liberty again, but the devil had so blinded him, and had\ntaken such deep root in his heart, that he could never think to crave\nGod's mercy; or, if by chance he had any good motion, straightways the\ndevil would thrust in a fair lady into his chamber, which fell to\nkissing and dalliance with him, through which means he threw the godly\nmotions in the wind, going forward still in his wicked practice, to the\nutter ruin both of body and soul.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n_Another Question put forth by Dr. Faustus to his Spirit Mephistophiles\nof his own Estate._\n\n\nDr. Faustus being yet desirous to hear more strange things, called his\nspirit unto him, saying, \"My Mephistophiles, I have yet another suit\nunto thee, which I pray thee deny me not to resolve me of.\"\n\n\"Faustus,\" quoth the spirit, \"I am loth to reason with thee any further,\nfor thou art never satisfied in thy mind, but always bringest me a new.\"\n\n\"Yet, I pray thee, this once,\" quoth Faustus, \"do me so much favour as\nto tell me the truth in this matter, and hereafter I will be no more so\nearnest with thee.\"\n\nThe spirit was altogether against it; but yet once more he would abide\nhim. \"Well,\" said the spirit to Faustus, \"what demandest thou of me.\"\n\nFaustus said, \"I would gladly know of thee if thou wert a man in manner\nand form as I am, what wouldst thou do to please both God and man?\"\n\nWhereat the spirit smiled, saying, \"My Faustus, if I was a man as thou\nart, and that God had adorned me with those gifts of nature which thou\nonce hadst, even so long as the breath of God were by and within me,\nwould I humble myself unto his majesty, endeavouring all that I could to\nkeep his commandments, praise him and glorify him, that I might continue\nin his favour, so were I sure to enjoy the eternal joy and felicity of\nhis kingdom.\"\n\nFaustus said, \"But that I have not done.\"\n\n\"No, thou sayest truth,\" quoth Mephistophiles, \"thou hast not done it;\nbut thou hast denied the Lord thy Maker which gave thee the breath of\nlife, speech, hearing, sight, and all other thy reasonable senses, that\nthou mightest understand his will and pleasure, to live to the glory and\nhonour of his name, and to the advancement of thy body and soul. Him, I\nsay, being thy Maker, hast thou denied and defied; yea, wickedly hast\nthou applied that excellent gift of understanding, and given thy soul to\nthe devil; therefore give none the blame but thine own self-will, thy\nproud and aspiring mind, which hath brought thee unto the wrath of God\nand utter damnation.\"\n\n\"This is most true,\" quoth Faustus; \"but tell me, Mephistophiles, would\nthou be in my case as I am now?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" saith the spirit (and with that fetched a great sigh), \"for yet I\nwould so humble myself that I would win the favour of God.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Dr. Faustus, \"it were time enough for me if I amended.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Mephistophiles, \"if it were not for thy great sins, which\nare so odious and detestable in the sight of God, that it is too late\nfor thee, for the wrath of God resteth upon thee.\"\n\n\"Leave off,\" quoth Faustus, \"and tell me my question to my greater\ncomfort.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nHERE FOLLOWETH THE SECOND PART OF DR. FAUSTUS HIS LIFE AND PRACTICES,\nUNTIL HIS END.\n\n\nDr. Faustus having received denial of his spirit to be resolved any more\nin such questions propounded, forgot all good works, and fell to be a\ncalendar-maker by the help of his spirit, and also in short time to be a\ngood astronomer or astrologian. He had learned so perfectly of his\nspirit the course of the sun, moon, and stars, that he had the most\nfamous name of all the mathematicians that lived in his time, as may\nwell appear by his works dedicated unto sundry dukes and lords, for he\ndid nothing without the advice of his spirit, which learned him to\npresage of matters to come, which have come to pass since his death. The\nlike praise won he with his calendars and almanack-making; for when he\npresaged of anything, operations, and alterations of the weather or\nelements, as wind, rain, fogs, snow, hail, moist, dry, warm, cold,\nthunder, lightning, it fell so duly out, as if an angel of heaven had\nforewarned it. He did not, like the unskilful astronomers in our time,\nthat set in winter, cold moist air, frosty, and in the dog days, hot,\ndry, thunder, fire, and such like; but he set in all his works the day\nand hour, when, where, and how it should happen. If any wonderful things\nwere at hand, as mortality, famine, plague, wars, he would set the time\nand place, in true and just order, when it would come to pass.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\n_A Question put forth by Dr. Faustus to his Spirit, concerning\nAstronomy._\n\n\nNow Faustus falling to practice, and making his prognostications, he was\ndoubtful in many points, wherefore he called unto him Mephistophiles his\nspirit, saying, \"I find the ground of the science very difficult to\nattain unto; for when that I confer Astronomia and Astrologia, as the\nmathematicians and ancient writers have left in memory, I find them\nvary, and very much to disagree; wherefore I pray thee to teach me the\ntruth of this matter.\"\n\nTo whom his spirit answered: \"Faustus, thou shalt know that the\npractitioners or speculators, or at least the first inventors of these\narts, have done nothing of themselves certain, whereupon thou mayst\nattain to the true prognosticating or presaging of things concerning the\nheavens, or of the influence of the planets; for if by chance some one\nmathematician or astronomer have left behind him anything worthy of\nmemory, they have so blinded it with enigmatical words, blind\ncharacters, and such obscure figures, that it is impossible for any\nearthly man to attain the knowledge thereof without the aid of some\nspirits, or else the special gift of God, for such as are the hidden\nworks of God from men, yet do we spirits, that fly and fleet all\nelements, know such; and there is nothing to be done, or by the heavens\nportended, but we know it, except only the day of doom. Wherefore,\nFaustus, learn of me: I will teach thee the course and re-course of the\nplanets, the cause of winter and summer, the exaltation and declination\nof the sun, and eclipse of the moon, the distance and height of the\npoles and every fixed star, the nature and opposition of the\nelements--fire, air, water, and earth--and all that is contained in\nthem; yea, herein there is nothing hidden from me, but only the filthy\nessence which once thou hadst, Faustus, at liberty, but now thou hast\nlost it past recovery; therefore, leaving that which will not be again\nhad, learn now of me to make thunder, lightning, hail, snow, and rain;\nthe clouds to rend the earth; and craggy rocks to shake and split in\nsunder; the seas to swell and roar, and overrun their marks. Knowest\nthou not that the deeper the sun shines the hotter it pierces; so the\nmore thy art is famous whilst thou art here, the greater shall be thy\nname when thou art gone. Knowest thou not that the earth is frozen,\ncold, and dry; the water running, cold and moist; the air flying, hot\nand moist; the fire consuming, hot and dry: yea, Faustus, so must thy\nheart be inflamed like the fire to mount on high. Learn, Faustus, to fly\nlike myself, as swift as thought from one kingdom to another: to sit at\nprinces' tables, to eat their dainty fare, to have thy pleasure of their\nladies, wives, and concubines; to use all their jewels and costly robes\nas things belonging unto thee, and not unto them. Learn of me, Faustus,\nto run through walls, doors, and gates of stone and iron; to creep into\nthe earth like a worm, or swim in the water like a fish; to fly in the\nair like a bird, and to live and nourish thyself in the fire like a\nsalamander: so shalt thou be famous, renowned, far spoken of, and\nextolled for thy skill; going on knives not hurting thy feet, carrying\nfire in thy bosom and not burning thy shirt; seeing through the heavens\nas through a crystal, wherein is placed the planets, with all the rest\nof the presaging comets--the whole circuit of the world from east to\nwest, north and south. There shalt thou know, Faustus, whereof the fiery\nsphere above, and the signs of the Zodiac doth not burn and consume the\nwhole face of the earth, being hindered by placing the two moist\nelements between them--the airy clouds and wavering waves of water. Yea,\nFaustus, I will learn thee the secrets of Nature; what the cause is,\nthat the sun in summer, being at the highest, giveth all his heat\ndownwards on the earth; and being winter at the lowest, giveth all his\nheat upwards into the heavens; that the snow should be of so great\nvirtue as the honey, and the Lady Saturnia in occulto more hot than the\nsun in manifesto. Come on, my Faustus; I will make thee as perfect in\nthese ways as myself; I will learn thee to go invisible, to find out the\nmines both of gold and silver, the fodines of precious stones--as the\ncarbuncle, the diamond, sapphire, emerald, ruby, topaz, jacinth, granat,\njaspies, amethyst: use all these at thy pleasure--take thy heart's\ndesire. Thy time, Faustus, weareth away; then why wilt thou not take thy\npleasure of the world? Come up, we will go unto kings at their own\ncourts, and at their most sumptuous banquets be their guests. If\nwillingly they invite us not, then by force we will serve our own turn\nwith their best meat and daintest wine.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" quoth Faustus; \"but let me pause a while upon this thou hast\neven now declared unto me.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus fell into Despair with himself, for having put a\nquestion unto his Spirit; they fell at Variance, whereupon the Rout of\nDevils appeared unto him, threatening him sharply._\n\n\nDr. Faustus resolved with himself the speeches of his spirit, and became\nso woeful and sorrowful in his cogitations that he thought himself\nalready frying in the hottest flame of hell; and lying in this muse,\nsuddenly there appeared unto him his spirit, demanding what thing so\ngrieved and troubled his conscience?\n\nWhereat Dr. Faustus gave no answer. Yet the spirit lay very earnestly\nupon him to know the cause, and if it were possible he would find a\nremedy for his grief and ease him of his sorrows.\n\nTo whom Faustus answered, \"I have taken thee unto me as a servant to do\nmy service, and thy service will be very dear unto me; yet I cannot have\nany diligence of thee farther than thou list thyself, neither dost thou\nin anything as it becometh thee.\"\n\nThe spirit replied: \"My Faustus, thou knowest that I was never against\nthy commandment as yet, but ready to serve and resolve thy questions,\nalthough I am not bound unto thee in such respects as concern the hurt\nof our kingdom; yet was I always willing to answer thee, and so am I\nstill: therefore, my Faustus, say on boldly, what is thy will and\npleasure?\"\n\nAt which words the spirit stole away the heart of Faustus, who spake in\nthis sort: \"Mephistophiles, tell me how and after what sort God made the\nworld and all the creatures in it? And why man was made after the image\nof God?\"\n\nThe spirit hearing this, answered Faustus: \"Thou knowest that all this\nis in vain for thee to ask. I know that thou art sorry for what thou\nhast done, but it availeth thee not; for I will tear thee in a thousand\npieces if thou change not thy opinions.\" And hereat he vanished away.\n\nWhereat Faustus, all sorrowful that he had put forth such a question,\nfell to weeping and to howling bitterly, not for his sins towards God,\nbut that the devil was departed from him so suddenly in such a rage. And\nbeing in this perplexity, he was suddenly taken with such extreme cold,\nas if he would have frozen in the place where he sat, in which the\ngreatest devil in hell appeared unto him, with certain of his hideous\nand infernal company, in most ugly shapes, that it was impossible to\nthink upon; and traversing the chamber round about where Faustus sat,\nFaustus thought to himself, \"Now are they come for me, though my time\nbe not come, and that because I have asked such questions of my servant\nMephistophiles.\" At whose cogitations the chiefest devil, which was the\nlord unto whom he gave his soul, that was Lucifer, spake in this sort:\n\"Faustus, I have seen thy thoughts, which are not as thou hast vowed\nunto me, by the virtue of this letter [and showed him the obligation\nwhich he had written with his own blood]; wherefore I am come to visit\nthee, and to show thee some of our hellish pastimes, in hope that will\ndraw and confirm thy mind a little more steadfast unto us.\"\n\n\"Content,\" quoth Faustus: \"go to, let me see what pastime you can make.\"\n\nAt which words the great devil in his likeness sate him down by Faustus,\ncommanding the rest of his devils to appear in the form as if they were\nin hell. First entered Belial, in form of a bear, with curled black hair\nto the ground, his ears standing upright; within his ears were as red as\nblood, out of which issued flames of fire; his teeth were at least a\nfoot long, and as white as snow, with a tail three ells long at the\nleast, having two wings, one behind each arm; and thus one after another\nthey appeared to Faustus in form as they were in hell. Lucifer himself\nsate in a manner of a man all hairy, but of brown colour like a\nsquirrel, curled, and his tail curling upwards on his back as the\nsquirrels use. I think he could crack nuts too like a squirrel. After\nhim came Belzebub in curled hair of a horse-flesh colour, his head like\nthe head of a bull, with a mighty pair of horns, and two long ears down\nto the ground, and two wings on his back, with two pricking things like\nhorns; out of his wings issued flames of fire; his tail was like a\ncow's. Then came Astaroth in the form of a worm, going upright on his\ntail, and had no feet, but a tail like a glow-worm; under his chops grew\ntwo short hands, and his back was coal black; his belly thick in the\nmiddle, yellow, like gold, having many bristles on his back like a\nhedgehog. After him came Cannagosta, being white and grey mixed,\nexceeding curled and hairy; he had a head like the head of an ass, and a\ntail like a cat, and claws like an ox, lacking nothing of an ell broad.\nThen came Anobis: this devil had a head like a dog, white and black\nhair; in shape like a hog, saving that he had but two feet--one under\nhis throat, the other at his tail; he was four ells long, with hanging\nears like a blood-hound. After him came Dithican: he was a short thief,\nin form of a large bird, with shining feathers, and four feet; his neck\nwas green, and body red, and his feet black. The last was called\nBrachus, with very short feet, like a hedgehog, yellow and green; the\nupper side of his body was brown, and the belly like blue flames of\nfire, the tail red like the tail of a monkey. The rest of the devils\nwere in form of unreasonable beasts, as swine, harts, bears, wolves,\napes, buffes, goats, antelopes, elephants, dragons, horses, asses,\nlions, cats, snakes, toads, and all manner of ugly odious serpents and\nworms; yet came in such sort that every one at his entry into the hall\nmade their reverence unto Lucifer, and so took their places, standing in\norder as they came until they had filled the whole hall, wherewith\nsuddenly fell a most horrible thunder-clap, that the house shook as if\nit would have fallen unto the ground; upon which every monster had a\nmuck-fork in his hand, holding them towards Faustus as though they would\nhave run a tilt at him; which, when Faustus perceived, he thought upon\nthe words of Mephistophiles, when he told him how the souls in hell were\ntormented, being cast from devil to devil upon muck-forks, he thought\nverily to have been tormented there by them in like sort.\n\nBut Lucifer perceiving his thought, spake to him, \"My Faustus, how\nlikest thou this crew of mine?\"\n\nQuoth Faustus, \"Why came you not in another manner of shape?\"\n\nLucifer replied: \"We cannot change our hellish form, we have showed\nourselves here as we are there; yet can we blind men's eyes in such\nsort, that when we will, we appear unto them as if we were men or angels\nof light, although our dwelling be in darkness.\"\n\nThen said Faustus, \"I like not so many of you together.\"\n\nWhereupon Lucifer commanded them to depart, except seven of the\nprincipal; forthwith they presently vanished, which Faustus perceiving,\nhe was somewhat better comforted, and spake to Lucifer, \"Where is my\nservant Mephistophiles? let me see if he can do the like.\"\n\nWhereupon came a fierce dragon flying, and spitting fire round about the\nhouse, and coming towards Lucifer, made reverence, and then changed\nhimself to the form of a friar, saying, \"Faustus, what wilt thou?\"\n\nFaustus said, \"I will that thou teach me to transform myself in like\nsort, as thou and the rest have done.\"\n\nThen Lucifer put forth his paw and gave Faustus a book, saying, \"Hold,\ndo what thou wilt.\"\n\nWhich he looking upon, straightways changed himself into a hog, then\ninto a worm, then into a dragon, and finding thus for his purpose it\nliked him well.\n\nQuoth he to Lucifer, \"And how cometh it that so many filthy forms are in\nthe world?\"\n\nLucifer answered, \"They are ordained of God, as plagues unto men, and so\nshalt thou be plagued,\" quoth he; whereupon came scorpions, wasps,\nemets, bees, and gnats, which fell to stinging and biting him, and all\nthe whole house was filled with a most horrible stinking fog, insomuch\nthat Faustus saw nothing, but still was tormented; wherefore he cried\nfor help, saying, \"Mephistophiles, my faithful servant, where art thou?\nHelp, help, I pray thee.\"\n\nHereat the spirit answered nothing, but Lucifer himself said, \"Ho, ho,\nho, Faustus, how likest thou the creation of the world?\"\n\nAnd incontinent it was clear again, and the devils and all the filthy\ncattle were vanished, only Faustus was left alone, seeing nothing, but\nhearing the sweetest music that ever he heard before; at which he was so\nravished with delight, that he forgot his fears he was in before, and it\nrepented him that he had seen no more of their pastime.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus desired to see Hell, and of the manner how he was used\ntherein._\n\n\nDr. Faustus bethinking how his time went away, and how he had spent\neight years thereof, he meant to spend the rest to his better contentment,\nintending quite to forget any such motions as might offend the devil any\nmore: wherefore on a time he called his spirit Mephistophiles, and said\nunto him, \"Bring thou hither unto me thy lord Lucifer or Belial.\" He\nbrought him (notwithstanding) one that was called Belzebub, the which\nasked Faustus his pleasure.\n\nQuoth Faustus, \"I will know of thee if I might see hell, and take a view\nthereof?\"\n\n\"That thou shalt,\" said the devil, \"and at midnight I will fetch thee.\"\n\nWell, night being come, Dr. Faustus waited very diligently for the\ncoming of the devil to fetch him, and thinking that he tarried too long,\nhe went to the window, where he pulled open a casement, and looking into\nthe element, he saw a cloud in the north more black, and darker, and\nobscurer than all the rest of the sky, from whence the wind blew most\nhorribly right into Faustus's chamber, and filled the whole house with\nsmoke, that Faustus was almost smothered; hereat fell an exceeding\nthunder-clap, and withal came a great rugged black bear all curled, and\nupon his back a chair of beaten gold, and spake to Faustus, saying,\n\"Sir, up and away with me:\" and Dr. Faustus that had so long abode the\nsmoke, wished rather to be in hell than there, got on the devil, and so\nthey went on together.\n\nMark how the devil blinded him, and made him believe he carried him into\nhell, for he carried him into the lake, where Faustus fell into a sound\nsleep, as if he had sate into a warm water or bath: at last they came to\na place which burneth continually with flashing flames of fire and\nbrimstone, whereout issued an exceeding mighty clap of thunder, with so\nhorrible a noise that Faustus awaked. But the devil went forth on his\nway, and carried Faustus therein, yea, notwithstanding however it burnt,\nDr. Faustus felt no more heat than as it were the glimpse of the sun in\nMay; there heard he all manner of music to overcome him, but saw none\nplaying on them; it pleased him well, but he durst not ask, for he was\nforbidden it before. To meet the devil and the guest that came with him\ncame three other ugly devils, the which ran back again before the bear,\nto make the way; against whom there came running an exceeding great\nhart, which would have thrust Faustus out of the chair; but being\ndefended by the other three devils, the hart was put to the repulse:\nthence going on the way, Faustus looked, and behold there was nothing\nbut snakes, and all manner of venomous beasts about him, which were\nexceeding great: unto the which snakes came many storks, and swallowed\nup the whole multitude of snakes, that they left not one: which when\nFaustus saw, he marvelled greatly. But proceeding farther on their\nhellish voyage, there came forth out of a hollow clift an exceeding\ngreat flying bull, the which with such a force hit Faustus's chair with\nhis head and horns, that he turned Faustus and his bear over and over,\nso that the bear vanished away: whereat Faustus began to cry, \"Oh!\nwoe to me that ever I came here!\" For he thought there to have been\nbeguiled of the devil; and to make an end before his time appointed or\nconditioned of the devil: but shortly after came to him a monstrous ape,\nbidding Faustus to be of good cheer, and said, \"Get upon me.\"\n\nAll the fire in hell seemed to Faustus to have been put out, whereupon\nfollowed a monstrous thick fog, that he saw nothing, but shortly after\nit seemed to him to wax clear, where he saw two great dragons fastened\nunto a waggon, in the which the ape ascended and set Faustus therein;\nforth flew the dragons into an exceeding dark cloud, where Faustus saw\nneither dragons nor chariot wherein he sate, and such were the cries of\ntormented souls, with mighty thunder-claps and flashing lightnings about\nhis ears, that poor Faustus shook for fear; upon this they came to a\nwater, stinking and filthy, thick like mud, into the which ran the\ndragons, sinking under with waggon and all; but Faustus felt no water,\nbut as it were a small mist, saving that the waves beat so sore upon\nhim, that he saw nothing under or over him but only water, in the which\nhe lost his dragons, ape, and waggon; and sinking deeper and deeper, he\ncame at last as it were upon a high rock, where the waters parted and\nleft him thereon: but when the water was gone, it seemed to him he\nshould there have ended his life, for he saw no way but death. The rock\nwas so high from the bottom as heaven is from the earth. There sate he,\nseeing nor hearing any man, and looked ever upon the rock. At length he\nsaw a little hole out of which issued fire. Thought he, \"How shall I now\ndo? I must either fall to the bottom or burn in the fire, or sit in\ndespair.\" With that, in his madness he gave a skip into the fire-hole,\nsaying, \"Hold, you infernal hags! take here this sacrifice as my last\nend, that which I have justly deserved.\"\n\nUpon this he was entered, and finding himself as yet unburned or touched\nof that fire, he was the better appayed. But there was so great a noise\nthat he never heard the like before; it passed all the thunder that\never he had heard. And coming down farther to the bottom of the rock, he\nsaw a fire, wherein were many worthy and noble personages, as emperors,\nkings, dukes, and lords, and many thousand more tormented souls, at the\nedge of which fire ran a most pleasant, clear, and cold water to behold;\ninto the which many tormented souls sprang out of the fire to cool\nthemselves, but being so freezing cold, they were constrained to return\nagain into the fire, and thus wearied themselves and spent their endless\ntorments out of one labyrinth into another, one while in heat, another\nwhile in cold. But Faustus, standing here all this while gazing on them\nthat were thus tormented, he saw one leaping out of the fire, shrieking\nhorribly, whom he thought to have known, wherefore he would fain\nhave spoken unto him, but remembering he was forbidden, he refrained\nspeaking. Then this devil that brought him in, came to him again in\nlikeness of a bear, with the chair on his back, and bid him sit up, for\nit was time to depart. So Faustus got up, and the devil carried him out\ninto the air, where he had so sweet music that he fell asleep by the\nway.\n\nHis boy Christopher, being all this while at home, and missing his\nmaster so long, thought his master would have tarried and dwelt with the\ndevil for ever; but whilst the boy was in these cogitations, his master\ncame home; for the devil brought him home fast asleep as he sate in his\nchair, and threw him on his bed, where (being thus left of the devil) he\nlay until day. When he awaked, he was amazed, like a man who had been in\na dark dungeon; musing with himself, if it were true or false that he\nhad seen hell, or whether he was blinded or not; but he rather persuaded\nhimself he had been there than otherwise, because he had seen such\nwonderful things; wherefore he most carefully took pen and ink, and\nwrote those things in order as he had seen; which writing was afterwards\nfound by his boy in his study, which afterwards was published to the\nwhole city of Wittenburg in print, for example to all Christians.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus was carried through the Air, up to the Heavens to see\nthe whole World, and how the Sky and Planets ruled; after the which he\nwrote a Letter to his Friend of the same to Liptzig, and how he went\nabout the World in eight days._\n\nThis letter was found by a freeman and citizen of Wittenburg, written\nwith his own hand, and sent to his friend at Liptzig, a physician, named\nLove Victori, the contents of which were as followeth:\n\n\"Amongst other things, my beloved friend and brother, I remember yet the\nformer friendship we had together when we were schoolfellows and\nstudents in the university at Wittenburg; whereas you first studied\nphysic, astronomy, astrology, geometry, and cosmography, I, to the\ncontrary, you know, studied divinity, notwithstanding now in any of your\nown studies I am sure I have proceeded farther than yourself; for since\nI began I have never erred, for, might I speak it without affecting\nmine own praise, my calendars and other practices have not only the\ncommendations of the common sort, but also the chiefest lords and nobles\nof this our Dutch nation, because (which is chiefly to be noted) I write\nand presage of matters to come, which all accord and fall out so right,\nas if they had already been before. And for thee, my beloved Victori,\nyou write to know my voyage which I made unto the heavens, the which (as\nyou certify me) you have had some suspicion of, although you partly\npersuade yourself that it is a thing impossible; no matter for that, it\nis as it is, and let it be as it will, once it is done in such a manner\nas now according, unto your request, I will give you here to understand.\nI being once laid in my bed, and I could not sleep for thinking on my\ncalendar and practice, I marvelled with myself how it were possible that\nthe firmament should be known, and so largely written of by men, or\nwhether they write true or false, by their own opinions and suppositions,\nor by due observation and true course of the heavens; behold, I thought\nmy house would have been blown down, so that all my doors and chests\nflew open, whereat I was not a little astonished, for withal I heard a\ngroaning voice, which said, 'Get up; the desire of thy heart, mind,\nand thought thou shalt see.' At the which I answered, 'What my heart\ndesireth that would I fain see; and to make proof if I shall see, I will\naway with thee.' 'Why, then,' quoth he, 'look out the window, there\ncometh a messenger for thee.' That did I; and behold, there stood a\nwaggon with two dragons before it to draw the same, and all the waggon\nwas of a light burning fire, and for that the moon shone I was the\nwillinger at that time to depart. But the voice spoke again: 'Sit up,\nand let us away.' 'I will,' said I, 'go with thee, but upon condition\nthat I may ask after all things that I see, hear, or think on.' The\nvoice answered: 'I am content for this time.' Hereupon I got me into the\nwaggon, so that the dragons carried me up right into the air.\n\n\"The waggon had four wheels, the which rattled so, and made such a\nnoise, as if it had been all this while running on the stones, and round\nabout us flew flames of fire; and the higher that I came, the more the\nearth seemed to be darkened, so that methought I came out of a dungeon;\nand looking down from heaven, behold Mephistophiles my spirit and\nservant was behind me; and when he perceived that I saw him, he came and\nsate by me; to whom I said, 'I pray thee, Mephistophiles, whither shall\nI go now?' 'Let not that trouble thy mind,' said he; and yet they carried\nus higher up. And now I will tell thee, good friend and schoolfellow,\nwhat things I have seen and proved; for on the Tuesday I went out, and\non Tuesday seven nights following I came home again, that's eight days,\nin which time I slept not, no not one wink came within my eyes; and we\nwent invisible of any man; and as the day began to appear, after the\nfirst night's journey, I said to my spirit Mephistophiles, 'I pray thee\nhow far have we now ridden? I am sure thou knowest, for methinks we\nhave ridden exceeding far, the world seemeth so little.' Mephistophiles\nanswered me, 'My Faustus, believe me, that from the place from whence\nthou camest unto this place where we now are is already forty-seven\nleagues right in height.' And as the day increased, I looked down into\nthe world. Asia, Europe, and Africa, I had a sight of; and being so\nhigh, quoth I to my spirit, 'Tell me how these kingdoms lie, and what\nthey are called?' The which he denied not, saying, 'See this on our left\nhand is Hungaria, this is also Prussia on our left hand, and Poland,\nMuscovia, Tartary, Silesia, Bohemia, Saxony; and here on our right hand,\nSpain, Portugal, France, England, and Scotland; then right on before us\nlie the kingdoms of Persia, India, Arabia, the king of Althar, and the\ngreat Cham. Now we are come to Wittenburg, and are right over the town\nof Weim, in Austria, and ere long we will be at Constantinople, Tripoli,\nand Jerusalem, and after will we pierce the frozen zone, and shortly\ntouch the horizon and the zenith of Wittenburg.' There looked I on the\nocean sea, and beheld a great many ships and galleys ready to battle one\nagainst another; and thus I spent my journey, and I cast my eyes here,\nnow there, towards south, north, east, and west. I have been in one\nplace where it rained and hailed, and in another where the sun shone\nexcellent fair; and so I think that I saw most things in and about the\nworld, with great admiration; that in one place it rained, and in\nanother hail and snow; on this side the sun shone bright, some hills\ncovered with snow never consuming, others were so hot that grass and\ntrees were burned and consumed therewith. Then looked I up to the\nheavens, and behold they went so swift, that I thought they would have\nsprung into thousands; likewise it was so clear and so hot, that I could\nnot gaze upon it, it so dimmed my sight; and had not my spirit\nMephistophiles covered me, as it were with a shadowing cloud, I had been\nburnt with the extreme heat thereof; for the sky which we behold here,\nwhen we look up from the earth, is so fast and thick as a wall, clear\nand shining bright as crystal, in which is placed the sun, which casteth\nforth his rays and beams over the whole world, to the uttermost confines\nof the earth. But we think that the sun is very little; no, it is\naltogether as big as the world; indeed the body substantial is but\nlittle in compass, but the rays or streams that it casteth forth by\nreason of the thing wherein it is placed, maketh him to extend and show\nhimself all over the whole world; and we think that the sun runneth his\ncourse, and that the heavens stand still; no, it is the heavens that\nmoves his course, and the sun abideth perpetually in his place, he is\npermanent and fixed in his place; and although we see him beginning to\nascend in the orient or east, at the highest in the meridian or south,\nsetting in occident or west, yet is he in the lowest in septentrio or\nnorth, and yet he moveth not, it is the axle of the heavens that moveth,\nthe whole firmament being a chaos or confused thing, and for that proof\nI will show this example: like as thou seest a bubble made of water and\nsoap blown out of a quill, it is in form of a confused mass or chaos,\nand being in this form is moved at pleasure of the wind, which runneth\nround about that chaos, and moveth him also round; even so the whole\nfirmament or chaos, wherein are placed the sun and the rest of the\nplanets, is turned and carried at the pleasure of the spirit of God,\nwhich is wind. Yea, Christian reader, to the glory of God, and to the\nprofit of my soul, I will open unto thee a divine opinion touching the\nrule of this confounded chaos, far more than my rude German author,\nbeing possessed with the devil, was able to utter, and prove some of my\nsentences before to be true; look into Genesis, into the works of God,\nat the creation of the world, there shalt thou find that the spirit of\nGod moved upon the water, before heaven and earth were made. Mark how he\nmade it, and how by his word every element took his place; these were\nnot his works, but his words, for all the words he used before,\nconcluded afterwards in one work, which was in making man. Mark, reader,\nwith patience, for thy soul's health, see into all that was done by the\nword and work of God. Light and darkness was, the firmament stood, and\nthe great and little light in it; the moist waters were in one place,\nthe earth was dry, and every element brought forth according to the word\nof God. Now follow his works: he made man after his own image. How? Out\nof the earth. The earth will shape no image without water; there was one\nof the elements; but all this while there was wind. All elements were at\nthe word of God. Man was made, and in a form by the work of God, yet\nmoved not that work before God had breathed the spirit of life into his\nnostrils, and made him a living soul. Here was the first wind and spirit\nof God, out of his own mouth; which we have likewise from the same seed\nwhich was only planted by God in Adam; which wind, breath, or spirit,\nwhen he had received, he was living and moved on earth; for it was\nordained of God for his habitation, but the heavens are the habitation\nof the Lord. And like as I showed before of the bubble or confused chaos\nmade of water and soap, through the wind and breath of man is turned\nround and carried with the wind, even so the firmaments wherein the sun\nand the rest of the planets are fixed, be moved, turned, and carried\nwith the wind, breath, and spirit of God; for the heavens and firmaments\nare moveable as the chaos, but the sun is fixed in the firmament. And\nfarther, my good schoolfellow, I was thus nigh the heavens, where\nmethought every planet was but as half the earth, and under the firmament\nruled the spirits in the air. As I came down, I looked upon the world\nand heavens, and methought that the earth was inclosed (in comparison)\nwithin the firmament as the yolk of an egg within the white; methought\nthat the whole length of the earth was not a span long, and the water\nwas as it had been twice as broad and as long as the earth. Even thus,\nat eight days' end, I came home again, and fell asleep, and so I\ncontinued sleeping three days and three nights together, and the first\nhour I waked, fell fresh again to my calendars, and have made them in\nright ample manner as you know. And to satisfy your request for that you\nwrite unto me, I have (in consideration of our old friendship had at the\nuniversity of Wittenburg) declared unto you my heavenly voyage, wishing\nno worse unto you than unto myself, that is, that your mind were as mine\nin all respects. Dixi, Dr. Faustus the astrologian.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus made his Journey through the principal and most famous\nLands in the World._\n\n\nDr. Faustus having overrun fifteen years of his appointed time, he took\nupon him a journey, with full intent to see the whole world, and calling\nhis spirit Mephistophiles unto him, he said, \"Thou knowest that thou art\nbound unto me upon conditions, to form and fulfil my desire in all\nthings, wherefore my intent is to visit the whole face of the earth,\nvisible and invisible, when it pleaseth me; therefore I command and\nenjoin thee to the same.\" Whereupon Mephistophiles answered, \"I am\nready, my lord, at thy command;\" and forthwith the spirit changed\nhimself into the likeness of a flying horse, saying, \"Faustus, sit up, I\nam ready.\"\n\nDr. Faustus softly sate upon him, and forwards they went. Faustus came\nthrough many a land and province, as Pannonia, Austria, Germany,\nBohemia, Silesia, Saxony, Messene, During, Frankland, Swaalband,\nByerland, Sayrir, Corinthia, Poland, Litaw, Lesland, Prussia, Denmark,\nMuscovia, Tartaria, Turkey, Persia, Cathai, Alexandria, Barbaria, Ginny,\nPorut, the Straights Maghellane, India, all about the frozen zone, and\nTerra-incognita, Nova Hispaniola, the Isles of Tereza, Madera, St.\nMichaels, the Canaries, and the Trenorirolcio into Spain, and Mainland,\nPortugal, Italy, Campania, the Kingdom of Naples, the Isles of Sicilia,\nMalta, Majorca, Minorca, to the Knights of the Rhodes, Candy or Crete,\nCypress, Corinth, Switzerland, France, Freezeland, Westphalia, Zealand,\nHolland, Brabant, and all the seventeen provinces in Netherland,\nEngland, Scotland, Ireland, and America, and Island, the Gut-Isles of\nScotland, the Orcades, Norway, the Bishopric of Bream; and so home\nagain.\n\nAll these kingdoms, and provinces, and countries he passed in twenty-five\ndays, in which time he saw nothing that delighted his mind; wherefore he\ntook little rest at home, and burning in desire to see more at large,\nand to behold the secrets of each kingdom, he set forward again on his\njourney on his swift horse Mephistophiles, and came to Trent, for that\nhe chiefly desired to see this town, and the monuments thereof, but\nthere he saw not any wonders, except two fair palaces that belonged unto\nthe bishop, and also a mighty large castle that was built with brick,\nwith three walls, and three great trenches, so strong that it was\nimpossible for any prince's power to win it; then he saw a church\nwherein was buried Simon and the bishop of Popo. Their tombs are of most\nsumptuous stone-marble, closed and joined together with great bars of\niron. From thence he departed to Paris, where he liked well the academy;\nand what place or kingdom soever fell in his mind, the same he visited.\n\nHe came from Paris to Mentz, where the river of Maine falls into the\nRhine, notwithstanding he tarried not long there, but went into\nCampania, in the kingdom of Neapoly, in which he saw an innumerable sort\nof cloisters, nunneries, and churches, and great houses of stone, the\nstreets fair and large, and straight forth from one end of the town to\nthe other all alike, and all the pavement of the city was of brick, and\nthe more it rained in the town the fairer the streets were. There saw he\nthe tomb of Virgil, and the highway that he cut through the mighty hill\nof stone in one night, the whole length of an English mile, where he saw\nthe number of galleys and argosies that lay there at the city head, the\nwindmill that stood in the water, the castle in the water, and the\nhouses above the water, where many galleys might ride most safely from\nrain or wind; then he saw the castle on the hill over the town, and many\nmonuments therein, also the hill called Vesuvius, whereon groweth all\nthe Greekish wine and most pleasant sweet olives.\n\nFrom thence he came to Venice, whereat he wondered not a little to see a\ncity so famously built standing in the sea, where through every street\nthe water came in such largeness that great ships and barques might pass\nfrom one street to another, having yet a way on both sides the water\nwhereon men and horses might pass. He marvelled also how it was possible\nso much victuals to be found in the town, and so good and cheap,\nconsidering that for a whole league nothing grew near the same. He\nwondered not a little at the fairness of St. Mark's Place, and the\nsumptuous church standing thereon, called St. Mark; how all the pavement\nwas set with coloured stones, and all the rood or loft of the church\ndouble gilded over.\n\nLeaving this, he came to Padua, beholding the manner of their academy,\nwhich is called the mother or nurse of Christendom; there heard he the\ndoctors, and saw most of the monuments of the town, entered his name in\nthe university of the German nation, and wrote himself Dr. Faustus, the\ninsatiable speculator. Then saw he the worthiest monument in the world\nfor a church, named St. Anthony's Cloister, which for the pinnacles\nthereof and the contrivement of the church, hath not the like in\nChristendom. The town is fenced about with three mighty walls of stone\nand earth, betwixt the which runneth goodly ditches of water. Betwixt\nevery four-and-twenty hours passeth boats betwixt Padua and Venice with\npassengers, as they do here betwixt London and Gravesend, and even so\nfar they differ in distance. Faustus beheld likewise the council-house\nand castle, with no small wonder.\n\nWell, forward he went to Rome, which lay, and doth yet lie, on the river\nTibris, the which divideth the city into two parts. Over the river are\nfour great stone bridges, and upon the one bridge, called Ponte St.\nAngelo, is the Castle of St. Angelo, wherein are so many great cast\npieces as there are days in the year, and such pieces as will shoot\nseven bullets off with one fire. To this castle cometh a privy vault\nfrom the church and the palace of St. Peter, through the which the pope\n(if any danger be) passeth from his palace to the castle for safeguard.\nThe city hath eleven gates, and a hill called Vaticinium, whereupon St.\nPeter's church is built. In that church the holy fathers will hear no\nconfessions without the penitent bring money in his hand. Adjoining to\nthe church is the Campo Santo, the which Carolus Magnus built, where\nevery day thirteen pilgrims have their dinners served of the best; that\nis to say, Christ and his twelve apostles. Hard by this he visited the\nchurchyard of St. Peter, where he saw that pyramid that Julius Caesar\nbrought forth of Africa; it stood in Faustus's time leaning against the\nchurch-wall of St. Peter's; but Pope Sixtus hath erected it in the\nmiddle of St. Peter's churchyard. It is fourteen fathom long, and at the\nlower end five fathom four square, and so forth smaller upwards. On the\ntop is a crucifix of beaten gold, the stone standing on four lions of\nbrass. Then he visited the seven churches of Rome, that were St. Peter,\nSt. Paul, St. Sebastian, St. John Lateran, St. Laurence, St. Mary\nMagdalen, and St. Mary Majora. Then went he without the town, where he\nsaw the conduits of water that run level through hill and dale, bringing\nwater into the town fifteen Italian miles off. Other mountains he saw,\ntoo many to recite.\n\nBut amongst the rest he was desirous to see the pope's court, and his\nmanner of service at his table, wherefore he and his spirit made\nthemselves invisible, and came to the pope's court and privy-chamber,\nwhere he was; there saw he many servants attending on his holiness, with\nmany a flattering sycophant carrying his meat; and there he marked\nthe pope, and the manner of his service, which he seeing to be so\nunmeasurable and sumptuous: \"Fie,\" quoth Faustus, \"why had not the devil\nmade a pope of me?\" Faustus saw there notwithstanding such as were like\nto himself, proud, stout, wilful gluttons, drunkards, whoremongers,\nbreakers of wedlock, and followers of all manner of ungodly excess;\nwherefore he said to his spirit, \"I thought that I had been alone a hog\nor pork of the devil's, but he must bear with me a little longer; for\nthese hogs of Rome are ready fatted, and fitted to make him roast meat;\nthe devil might do well to spit them all, and have them to the fire, and\nlet him summon the nuns to turn the spits; for as none must confess the\nnun but the friar, so none should turn the roasting friar but the nun.\"\nThus continued Faustus three days in the pope's palace, and yet had no\nlust to his meat, but stood still in the pope's chamber, and saw\neverything whatsoever it was.\n\nOn a time the pope would have a feast prepared for the Cardinal of\nPavia, and for his first welcome the cardinal was bidden to dinner, and\nas he sate at meat the pope would ever be blessing and crossing over his\nmouth. Faustus would suffer it no longer, but up with his fist and smote\nthe pope on his face, and withal he laughed that the whole house might\nhear him, yet none of them saw him, or knew where he was. The pope\npersuaded his company that it was a damned soul, commanding mass\npresently to be said for his delivery out of purgatory, which was done;\nthe pope sat still at meat, but when the latter mess came to the pope's\nboard, Dr. Faustus laid hands thereon, saying, \"This is mine,\" and so he\ntook both dish and meat, and flew into the Capitol or Campadolia,\ncalling his spirit unto him, and said, \"Come, let us be merry, for thou\nmust fetch me some wine, and the cup that the pope drinks out of; and\nhereupon morte caval, we will make good cheer in spite of the pope and\nall his fat abbey lubbers.\"\n\nHis spirit hearing this, departed towards the pope's chamber, where he\nfound them yet sitting, quaking; wherefore he took from before the pope\nthe fairest piece of plate, or drinking goblet, and a flagon of wine,\nand brought it to Faustus.\n\nBut when the pope and the rest of his crew perceived they were robbed,\nand knew not after what sort, they persuaded themselves that it was a\ndamned soul that before had vexed the pope so, and that smote him on the\nface; wherefore he sent commandment through the whole city of Rome, that\nthey should say a mass in every church, and ring all the bells, for to\nlay the walking spirit, and to curse him with bell, book, and candle,\nthat so invisibly had misused the pope's holiness, with the Cardinal of\nPavia, and the rest of their company.\n\nBut Faustus notwithstanding made good cheer with that which he had\nbeguiled the pope of, and in the midst of the order of St. Bernard's,\nbare-footed friars, as they were going on procession through the\nmarket-place, called Campo de Fiore, he let fall his plate, dish, and\ncup, and withal for a farewell he made such a thunder-clap and storm of\nrain, as though heaven and earth would have met together, and left Rome,\nand came to Millain in Italy, near the Alps or borders of Switzerland,\nwhere he praised much to his spirit the pleasures of the place, the city\nbeing founded in so brave a plain, by the which ran most pleasant rivers\non every side of the same, having besides within the compass of a\ncircuit of seven miles, seven small seas: he saw also therein many fair\nplaces, and goodly buildings, the duke's palace, and the mighty strong\ncastle, which is in a manner half the bigness of the town. Moreover, it\nliked him well to see the hospital of St. Mary, with divers other\nthings: he did there nothing worthy of memory, but he departed back\nagain towards Bologna, and from thence to Florence, where he was well\npleased to see the pleasant walk of merchants, the goodly vaults of\nthe city, for that almost the whole city is vaulted, and the houses\nthemselves are built outwardly in such sort, that the people go under\nthem as under a vault: then he perused the sumptuous church in the\nduke's castle, called Nostra Dama, our Lady's church, in which he saw\nmany monuments, as a marble door most huge to look upon; the gates of\nthe castle are bell-metal, wherein are graven the holy patriarchs, with\nChrist and his twelve apostles, and divers other histories out of the\nOld and New Testament.\n\nThen went he to Siena, where he highly praised the church and hospital\nof Sancta Maria Formosa, with the goodly buildings, and especially the\nfairness and greatness of the city, and beautiful women: then came he to\nLyons in France, where he marked the situation of the city, which lay\nbetween two hills, environed with two waters; one worthy monument\npleased him well, that was the great church, with the image therein; he\ncommended the city highly for the great resort that it had unto it of\nstrangers.\n\nFrom thence he went to Cullen, which lieth upon the river of Rhine,\nwherein he saw one of the ancientest monuments in the world, the which\nwas the tomb of the three kings that came by the angel of God, and their\nknowledge they had in the stars, to worship Christ, which when Faustus\nsaw, he spake in this manner: \"Ah! alas, good men! How have you erred,\nand lost your way! You should have gone to Palestina, and Bethlehem in\nJudea; how came you hither? Or belike after your death you were thrown\ninto Mare Mediterraneum, about Tripolis in Syria, and so you steered out\nof the Straights of Gibralterra, in the ocean seas, and so into the Bay\nof Portugal. And not finding any rest, you are driven along the coast of\nGallicia, Biscay and France, and into the narrow seas: then from thence\ninto Mare Germanicum, and taken up I think about the town of Dort in\nHolland: you were brought to Cullen to be buried, or else (I think) you\ncame most easily with a whirlwind over the Alps, and being thrown into\nthe river of Rhine, it conveyed you to this place where you are kept a\nmonument.\" Then saw he the church of St. Ursula, where remains a\nmonument of the thousand virgins; it pleased him also to see the beauty\nof the women.\n\nNot far from Cullen lieth the town of Ach, where he saw the gorgeous\ntemple that the Emperor Carolus Quartus built of marble-stone for a\nremembrance of him, to the end that all his successors should there be\ncrowned.\n\nFrom Cullen and Ach he went to Geneva, a city in Savoy, lying near\nSwitzerland; it is a town of great traffic, the lord thereof is a\nbishop, whose wine-cellar Faustus and his spirit visited for the love of\nhis good wine.\n\nFrom thence he went to Strasburg, where he beheld the fairest temple that\never he had seen in his life before, for on every side thereof he might\nsee through, even from the covering of the minster to the top of the\npinnacle, and it is named one of the wonders of the world; wherefore, he\ndemanded why it is called Strasburg? His spirit answered, \"Because it\nhath so many highways common to it on every side, for Stros in Dutch is\na Highway, and hereof came the name: yea,\" said Mephistophiles, \"the\nchurch that thou so wonderest at, hath more revenues belonging to it\nthan the twelve dukes of Silesia are worth, for there pertain unto this\nchurch fifty-five towns, and four hundred and sixty-three villages,\nbesides many houses in the town.\"\n\nFrom thence went Faustus to Basil, in Switzerland, where the river of\nRhine runneth through the town, parting the same as the river of Thames\ndoth London: in the town of Basil he saw many rich monuments, the town\nwalled with brick round about, without it goeth a great trench: no\nchurch pleased him but the Jesuits' church, which was sumptuously\nbuilded, and set full of alabaster pillars, where the spirit told\nFaustus that before the city was founded, there used a Basiliscus, a\nkind of serpent: this serpent killed as many men, women and children as\nhe took a sight of, but there was a knight that made himself a cover of\ncrystal, to come over his head and down to the ground, and being first\ncovered with a black cloth, over that he put the crystal, and so boldly\nwent to see the Basiliscus, and finding the place where she haunted, he\nexpected her coming even before the mouth of the cave, where standing a\nwhile, the Basiliscus came forth, where when she saw her own venomous\nshadow in the crystal, she split in a thousand pieces, wherefore the\nknight was richly rewarded of the emperor, after the which the knight\nfounded this town upon the place where he had slain the serpent, and\ngave it the name Basil, in remembrance of his deed.\n\nFrom Basil, Faustus went to Costnitz in Sweitz, at the head of the\nRhine, where is a most sumptuous bridge that goeth over the Rhine, even\nfrom the gates of the town to the other side of the stream; at the head\nof the river of Rhine, is a small sea, called of the Switzers the Black\nSea, twenty thousand paces long, and fifty hundred paces broad. The town\nCostnitz took the name of this; the emperor gave it a clown for\nexpounding of his riddle: wherefore the clown named the town Costnitz,\nthat is in English, \"Cost me nothing.\"\n\nFrom Costnitz he came to Ulm, where he saw the sumptuous town house\nbuilt by two-and-fifty of the ancient senators of the city; it took the\nname Ulm, because the whole land thereabouts is full of Elms: but\nFaustus minding to depart from thence, his spirit said unto him,\n\"Faustus, think of the town as you will; it hath three dukedoms\nbelonging to it, the which they have bought with ready money.\"\n\nFrom Ulm he came unto Watzberg, the chiefest town in Frankland, wherein\nthe bishop altogether keepeth his court, through the which town passeth\nthe river Mayne, that runs into the Rhine; thereabouts groweth strong\nand pleasant wine, the which Faustus well proved: the castle standeth on\na hill on the north side of the town, at the foot thereof runneth the\nriver. This town is full of beggarly friars, nuns, priests, and Jesuits;\nfor there are five sorts of begging friars, besides three cloisters of\nnuns; at the foot of the castle stands a church, in the which there is\nan altar, where are engraven all the four elements, and all the orders\nand degrees in heaven, that any man of understanding whosoever, that\nhath a light thereof, may say that it is the artificialist thing that\never he beheld.\n\nFrom thence he went to Norenberg, whither as he went by the way his\nspirit informed him that the town was named of Claudius Tiberius, the\nson of Nero the Tyrant. In the town are two famous cathedral churches,\none called St. Sabelt, the other St. Laurence; in which church stands\nall the relics of Carolus Magnus, that is to say, his cloak, his hose,\nhis doublet, his sword and crown, the sceptre and apple. It hath a very\nglorious gilded conduit in the market-place of St. Laurence; in which\nconduit is the spear that thrust our Saviour into the side, and a piece\nof the holy cross; the wall is called the fair wall of Norenberg, and\nfive hundred and twenty-eight streets, a hundred and sixty wells, four\ngreat and two small clocks, six great gates, two small doors, eight\nstone bridges, twelve small hills, ten fair market-places, thirteen\ncommon hot-houses, ten churches; within the town are twenty wheels of\nwater-mills, it hath a hundred and thirty-eight tall ships, two mighty\ntown walls of hewed stone and earth, with very deep trenches: the walls\nhave a hundred and eighty towers about them, and four fair platforms,\nten apothecaries, ten doctors of the common law, fourteen doctors of\nphysic.\n\nFrom Norenberg he went to Auspurg, where at the break of the day he\ndemanded of his spirit whereupon the town took his name. \"This town,\"\nquoth he, \"hath had many names; when it was first built, it was called\nVindelica; secondly, it was called Zizaria, the iron-bridge; lastly, by\nthe Emperor Octavus Augustus, it was called Augusta, and by the\ncorruption of language, the Germans had named it Auspurg.\"\n\nNow, for because that Faustus had been there before, he departed\n(without seeing their monuments) to Ravensberg, where his spirit\ncertified him that the city had seven names: the first Diperia, the\nsecond Quadratis, the third Heaspolis, the fourth Reginipolis, the fifth\nImbripolis, the sixth Ratisbona, the last is Ravensberg. The situation\nof this city pleased Faustus well, also the strong and sumptuous\nbuilding; by the walls thereof runneth the river Danubius, in Dutch\ncalled Danow, into which not far from the compass of the city falleth\nnear hand threescore other small rivers and fresh waters. Faustus also\nliked the sumptuous stone bridge over the same water, with the church\nstanding thereon, the which was founded Anno 1115, the name whereof is\ncalled St. Remedian; in the town Faustus went into the cellar of an\ninn-holder, and let out all the beer and wine that was in the cellar.\n\nAfter which feat, he returned into Mentz in Bavaria, a right princely\ntown: the town appeared as if it were new, with great streets therein,\nboth of breadth and length from Mentz to Salisburg, where the bishop is\nalways resident: here saw he all the commodities that were possible to\nbe seen, for at the hill he saw the form of a bell made in crystal, a\nhuge thing to look upon, that every year groweth bigger and bigger, by\nreason of the freezing cold.\n\nFrom thence he went to Vienna in Austria; the town is of great\nantiquity, that it is not possible to find the like. \"In this town,\"\nsaid the spirit, \"is more wine than water, for all under the town are\nwells, which are filled every year with wine, and all the water that\nthey have runneth by this town; this is the river Danubius.\"\n\nFrom thence he went into Prage, the chief city of Bohemia; this is\ndivided into three parts, that is old Prage, little Prage, and new\nPrage. Little Prage is the place where the emperor's court is placed;\nupon an exceeding high mountain there is a castle, where are two fair\nchurches; in the one he found a monument which might well have been a\nmirror for himself, and that was the sepulchre of a notable conjurer,\nwhich by his magic had so enchanted his sepulchre that whosoever set foot\nthereon, should be sure never to die in their beds. From this castle he\ncame and went down over the bridge; this bridge has twenty-four arches,\nand in the middle of the bridge stands a very fair monument, being a\ncross builded of stone, and most artificially carved. From thence he\nwent into the old Prage, the which is separated from the new Prage, with\nan exceeding deep ditch, and round about enclosed with a wall of brick;\nunto this is adjoining the Jews' town, wherein are thirteen thousand\nmen, women, and children, all Jews; there he viewed the college and the\ngardens, where all manner of savage beasts are kept; and from thence he\nfetched a compass round about the three towns, whereat he wondered\ngreatly to see so mighty a city stand all within the walls.\n\nFrom Prage he flew into the air, and bethought himself what he\nmight do, or which way to take; so looked round about, and behold he\nespied a passing fair city, which lay not far from Prage, about some\nfour-and-twenty miles, and that was Bressaw in Silesia, in which when he\nwas entered, it seemed to him that he had been in Paradise, so neat and\nclean were the streets, and so sumptuous were their buildings. In the\ncity he saw not many wonders, except the brazen Virgin that standeth\non a bridge over the water, and under which standeth a mill like a\npaper-mill, which Virgin is made to do execution upon those disobedient\ntown-born children that be so wild that their parents cannot bridle\nthem; which, when any such are found with some heinous offence, turning\nto the shame of their parents and kindred, they are brought to kiss the\nVirgin, which openeth her arms. The person then to be executed kisseth\nher, then doth she close her arms together with such violence, that she\ncrusheth out the breath of the party, breaketh his bulk, and so he\ndieth; but being dead she openeth her arms again, and letteth the party\nfall into the mill, where he is stamped into small morsels, which the\nwater carrieth away, so that no part is found again.\n\nFrom Bressaw he went toward Cracovia, in the kingdom of Polionia, where\nhe beheld the academy, the which pleased him wonderful well. In the city\nthe king most commonly holdeth his court at a castle, in which castle\nare many famous monuments; there is a most sumptuous church in the same,\nin which standeth a silver altar gilded and set with rich stones, and\nover it is a covenance full of all manner of silver ornaments belonging\nto mass. In the church hangeth the jaw-bones of a huge dragon, that kept\nthe rock before the castle was edified thereon: it is full of all manner\nof munition, and hath always victuals for three years to serve three\nthousand men; through the town runneth a river, called the Vessnal or\nWessel, where over is a fair wooden bridge; this water divideth the\ntown and Gasmere; in this Gasmere dwell the Jews, being a small walled\ntown by themselves, to the number of twenty-five thousand men, women and\nchildren; within one mile of the town there is a salt mine, where they\nfound stones of pure salt, one thousand pound, two thousand pound, or\nmore in weight, and that in great quantity: this salt is as black as the\nNewcastle coal when it comes out of the mines, but being beaten to\npowder, it is as white as snow. The like they have four miles from\nthence at a town called Buckma.\n\nFrom thence Faustus went to Sandentz, the Captain thereof was called Don\nSpicket Jordan. In this town are many monuments, as the tomb and\nsepulchre of Christ, in as ample a manner as that is at Jerusalem, at\nthe proper costs of a gentleman that went thrice a year to Jerusalem\nfrom that place and returned again. Not far from that town is a new town\nwherein is a nunnery of the order of St. Dioclesian, into which order\nmay none come except they be gentlewomen, and well formed, and fair to\nlook upon, which pleased Faustus well; but having a will to travel\nfurther, and to see more wonders, mounting up towards the east, over\nmany lands and provinces, as in Hungaria, Transilvania, Shede, Ingatz,\nSardinia, and so into Constantinople, where the Turkish emperor kept his\ncourt.\n\nThis city was surnamed by Constantine, the founder thereof, being\nbuilded of very fair stone. In the same the Great Turk hath three fair\npalaces: the walls are strong, the pinnacles are very huge, and the\nstreets very large. But this liked not Faustus that one man should have\nas many wives as he would. The sea runneth hard by the city; the wall\nhath eleven gates. Faustus abode there a certain time to see the manner\nof the Turkish emperor's service at his table, where he saw his royal\nservice to be such that he thought if all the Christian princes should\nbanquet together, and every one adorn the feast to the utmost, that\nthey were not able to compare with the Turk and his table, and the rest\nof his country service. Wherefore it so affrighted Faustus that he vowed\nto be revenged on him, for his pomp, he thought, was more fit for\nhimself; wherefore as the Turk sate at meat Faustus showed them a little\napish play, for round about the privy-chamber he sent forth flashing\nflames of fire, insomuch that the whole company forsook their meat and\nfled, except only the Great Turk himself; him Faustus charmed in such\nsort that he could neither rise nor fall, neither could any man pull him\nup. With this was the hall so light as if the sun had shined in the\nhouse. Then came Faustus in form of a pope to the Great Turk, saying,\n\"All hail, emperor, now art thou honoured, that I so worthily appear\nunto thee as thy Mahomet was wont to do.\" Hereupon he vanished, and\nforthwith it thundered that the whole palace shook. The Turk greatly\nmarvelled what this should be that so vexed him, and was persuaded by\nthe chiefest counsellors that it was Mahomet, his prophet, which had so\nappeared unto them; whereupon the Turk commanded them to fall down on\ntheir knees and to give him thanks for doing them so great honour as to\nshow himself unto them. But the next day Faustus went into the castle\nwhere he kept his wives and concubines, in which castle might no man,\nupon the pain of death, come, except those that were appointed by the\nGreat Turk to do him service, and they were all eunuchs, which when\nFaustus perceived, he said to his spirit Mephistophiles, \"How likest\nthou this sport? Are not these fair ladies greatly to be pitied that\nthus consume their youth at the pleasure of one only man?\"\n\n\"Why,\" quoth the spirit, \"mayst not thou instead of the emperor embrace\nthese fair ladies? Do what thy heart desireth herein, and I will aid\nthee, and what thou wishest thou shalt have it performed.\"\n\nWherefore Faustus (being before this counsel apt enough to put such\nmatters in practice) caused a great fog to be round about the castle,\nboth within and without, and he himself appeared amongst the ladies in\nall points as they used to paint Mahomet; at which sight the ladies fell\non their knees and worshipped him. Then Faustus took the fairest by the\nhand, and when he had delighted himself sufficiently with her, he put\nher away, and made his spirit bring him another; and so he passed away\nsix days, all which time the fog was so thick and so stinking that they\nwithin the house thought that they had been in hell for the time, and\nthey without wondered thereat, in such sort that they went to their\nprayers, calling on their God Mahomet, and worshipping of the image;\nwhere the sixth day Faustus exalted himself into the air like a pope, in\nthe sight of the Great Turk and all his people, and he had no sooner\ndeparted the castle but the fog vanished away. Whence presently the Turk\nwent to his wives and concubines, demanding of them if they knew the\ncause why the castle was beset with a mist so long. They said it was the\nGod Mahomet himself that had caused it, and how he was in the castle\npersonally six days. The Turk, hearing this, fell down upon his knees\nand gave Mahomet thanks, desiring him to forgive him for being offended\nwith his visiting his castle and wives these six days.\n\nFrom thence Faustus went to Alker, the which before times was called\nChairam, or Memphis. In this city the Egyptian Soldan holdeth his court;\nfrom thence the river Nilus hath his head and spring. It is the greatest\nfresh water river that is in the whole world, and always when the sun is\nin Cancer it overfloweth the whole land of Egypt.\n\nThen he returned again towards the north-east, and to the town of Osen\nand Sebasa in Hungaria. This Osen is the closest city in Hungaria, and\nstanding in a fertile soil, wherein groweth most excellent wine; and not\nfar from the tower there is a well called Zipzan, the water whereof\nchangeth iron into copper. There are mines of gold and silver and all\nmanner of metal. We Germans call this town Osen, but in the Hungarian\nspeech it is Start. In the town standeth a very fair castle, and very\nwell fortified.\n\nFrom thence he went to Austria, and so through Silesia into Saxony,\nunto the towns of Magdeburg, and Lipzig, and Lubeck. Magdeburg is a\nbishopric. In this city is one of the pitchers wherein Christ changed\nthe water into wine in Cana in Galilee. At Lipzig nothing pleased\nFaustus so well as the great vessel in the castle made of wood, the\nwhich is bound about with twenty-four iron hoops, and every hoop weighed\ntwo hundred pound weight. You must go upon a ladder thirty steps high\nbefore you can look into it. He saw also the new churchyard where it was\nwalled, and standeth upon a fair plain. The yard is two hundred paces\nlong, and round about the side of the wall are good places, separated\none from each other to see sepulchres in, which in the middle of the\nyard standeth very sumptuous; therein standeth a pulpit of white work\nand gold.\n\nFrom thence he went to Lubeck and Jamberg, where he made no abode, but\naway again to Erford in Duriten, where he visited the Frescold; and from\nErford he went home to Wittenburg, when he had seen and visited many a\nstrange place, being from home one year and a half, in which time he\nwrought more wonders than are here declared.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus had sight of Paradise._\n\n\nAfter this Dr. Faustus set forth again to visit the countries of Spain,\nPortugal, France, England, Scotland, Denmark, Sweden, Poland, Muscovy,\nIndia, Cataia, Africa, Persia, and lastly, into Barbaria, amongst the\nBlack Moors; and in all his wandering he was desirous to visit the\nancient monuments and mighty hills, amongst the rest, beholding the high\nhill called Theno Reise, was desirous to rest upon it. From thence he\nwent into the Isle of Britain, wherein he was greatly delighted to see\nthe fair water and warm baths, the divers sorts of metal, with many\nprecious stones and divers other commodities, the which Faustus brought\nthence with him. He was also at the Orcades behind Scotland, where he\nsaw the tree that bringeth forth fruit, that when it is ripe, openeth\nand falleth in the water, wherein engendereth a certain kind of fowl and\nbirds. These islands are in number twenty-three, but ten of them are not\nhabitable, the other thirteen were inhabited.\n\nFrom thence he went to the hill Caucasus, which is the highest in all\nthat tropic: it lieth near the borders of Scythia. Hereon Faustus stood\nand beheld many lands and kingdoms. Faustus, being on such a high hill,\nthought to look over all the world, and beyond, for he went to Paradise,\nbut he durst not commune with his spirit thereof; and being on the hill\nCaucasus, he saw the whole land of India and Scythia, and as he looked\ntowards the east, he saw a mighty clear streak of fire coming from\nheaven upon earth, even as if it had been one of the beams of the sun.\nHe saw in the water four mighty waters springing, one had his course\ntowards India, the second towards Egypt, the third and fourth towards\nArmenia. When he saw these he would needs know of his spirit what waters\nthey were, and from whence they came?\n\nHis spirit gave him gently an answer, saying, \"It is Paradise that lieth\nso far in the east, the garden that God himself hath planted with all\nmanner of pleasure; and the fiery streams which thou seest is the wall\nor fence of the garden; but the clear light which thou seest afar of,\nthat is the angel that hath the custody thereof with a fiery sword; and\nalthough thou thinkest thyself to be hard by, thou are yet further\nthither from hence than thou hast ever been. The water that thou seest\ndivided in four parts, is the water that issueth out of the well in the\nmiddle of Paradise. The first is called Ganges or Pison, the second\nGihon, the third Tygris, and the fourth Euphrates; also thou seest that\nhe standeth under Libra and Aries, right towards the Zenith; and upon\nthis fiery wall standeth the angel Michael with his flaming sword, to\nkeep the tree of life, which he hath in charge. But,\" the spirit said\nto Faustus, \"neither thou, nor I, nor any after us, yea, all men\nwhatsoever, are denied to visit, or come any nearer than we be.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\n_Of a certain Comet that appeared in Germany, and how Dr. Faustus was\ndesired by certain Friends of his to know the meaning thereof._\n\n\nIn Germany, over the town of St. Elzeben, was seen a mighty great comet,\nwhereat the people wondered, but Dr. Faustus being there, was asked of\ncertain of his friends his judgment or opinion in the matter; whereupon\nhe answered: \"It falleth out often by the course and change of the sun\nand moon, that the sun is under the earth, and the moon above; but when\nthe moon draweth near the change, then is the sun so strong that it\ntaketh away the light of the moon in such sort as she is red as blood;\nand, on the contrary side, after they have been together, she soon\ntaketh her light from him, and so increasing in light to the full, she\nwill be as red as the sun was before, and change herself into divers and\nsundry colours, of which springeth the prodigal monster, or, as you\ncall it, a comet, which is a figure or token appointed of God as a\nforewarning of his displeasure: as at one time he sendeth hunger,\nplague, sword, or such like, being all tokens of his judgments, which\ncomet cometh through the conjunction of the sun and moon, and begetteth\na monster, whose father is the sun, and whose mother is the moon: moon\nand sun.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\n\n_Another Question put forth to Dr. Faustus concerning the Stars._\n\n\nThere was a learned man of the town of Halberstat, named N. W., who\ninvited Dr. Faustus to his table, but falling into communication before\nsupper was ready, they looked out of the window, and seeing many stars\nin the firmament, this man being a doctor of physic, and a good\nastrologian, said: \"Dr. Faustus, I have invited you as my guest, hoping\nyou will take in good part with me, and withal, I request you to impart\nsome of your experience in the stars and planets;\" and seeing a star\nfall, he said: \"I pray you, Faustus, what is the condition, quality, or\ngreatness of the stars in the firmament?\"\n\nFaustus answered him: \"My friend and brother, you see that the stars\nthat fall from heaven, when they come to the earth, they be very small\nto our thinking as candles, but being fixed in the firmament, they are\nmany as great as a city, some as great as a province or dukedom, others\nas great as the whole earth, other some far greater than the earth\ntwelve times, and from the height of the heavens there is scarce any\nearth to be seen--yea, the planets in the heavens are some so great as\nthis land, some so great as the whole empire of Rome, some as Turkey,\nyea, some as great as the whole world.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI.\n\n_How Faustus was asked a Question concerning the Spirits that vexed\nMen._\n\n\n\"That is most true,\" said he to Faustus, \"concerning the stars and\nplanets; but, I pray you, in what kind or manner do the spirits use to\nvex men so little by day and so greatly by night?\"\n\nDr. Faustus answered: \"Because the spirits are of God forbidden the\nlight; their dwelling is in darkness, and the clearer the sun shineth,\nthe farther the spirits have their abiding from it, but in the night\nwhen it is dark, they have their familiarity and abiding near unto us\nmen. For although in the night we see not the sun, yet the brightness\nthereof so lighted the first moving of the firmament, as it doth here\non earth in the day, by which reason we are able to see the stars and\nplanets in the night, even so the rays of the sun piercing upwards into\nthe firmament, the spirits abandon the place, and so come near us on\nearth, the darkness filling our heads with heavy dreams and fond fancies,\nwith shrieking and crying in many deformed shapes: and sometimes when\nmen go forth without light, there falleth to them a fear, that their\nhairs standeth up on end, so many start in their sleep, thinking there\nis a spirit by them, groping or feeling for him, going round about the\nhouse in their sleep, and many such like fancies, and all this is,\nbecause in the night the spirits are more familiarly by us than we are\ndesirous of their company, and so they carry us, blinding us, and\nplaguing us more than we are able to perceive.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus was asked a Question concerning the Stars that fell\nfrom Heaven._\n\n\nDr. Faustus being demanded the cause why the stars fall from heaven, he\nanswered: \"That it is but our opinion; for if one star fall, it is the\ngreat judgment of God upon us, as a forewarning of some great thing to\ncome: for when we think that a star falleth, it is but as a spark that\nissueth from a candle or flame of fire; for if it were a substantial\nthing, we should not so soon lose the sight of them as we do. But\nlikewise if so be that we see as it were a stream of fire fall from the\nfirmament, as it oft happeneth, yet are they not stars, but as it were a\nflame of fire vanishing, but the stars are substantial; therefore are\nthey firm and not falling; if there fall any, it is a sign of some great\nmatter to come, as a scourge to a people or country; and then such stars\nfalling, and the gates of heaven are opened, and the clouds send forth\nfloods and other plagues, to the damage of the whole land and people.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\n\n_How Faustus was asked a Question concerning Thunder._\n\n\nIn the month of August there was over Wittenburg a mighty great\nlightning and thunder; and as Dr. Faustus was jesting merrily in the\nmarket-place with certain of his friends and companions, being\nphysicians, they desired him to tell them the cause of that weather.\nFaustus answered: \"It hath been commonly seen heretofore that, before a\nthunder-clap, fell a shower of rain or a gale of wind; for commonly\nafter a wind falleth rain, and after rain a thunder-clap, such thickness\ncome to pass when the four winds meet together in the heavens, the airy\nclouds are by force beaten against the fixed crystal firmament, but when\nthe airy clouds meet with the firmament, they are congealed, and so\nstrike, and rush against the firmament, as great pieces of ice when they\nmeet on the water; then each other sounded in our ears, and that we call\nthunder, which indeed was none other than you have heard.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE THIRD AND LAST OF DR. FAUSTUS HIS MERRY CONCEITS, SHOWING AFTER WHAT\nSORT HE PRACTISED NECROMANCY IN THE COURTS OF GREAT PRINCES: AND,\nLASTLY, OF HIS FEARFUL AND PITIFUL END.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX.\n\n_How the Emperor Carolus Quintus requested of Faustus to see some of his\nCunning, whereunto he agreed._\n\n\nThe Emperor Charles the Fifth of that name, was personally, with the\nrest of the nobles and gentlemen, at the town of Intzbrack, where he\nkept his court, unto the which also Dr. Faustus resorted, and being\nthere well known of divers nobles and gentlemen, he was invited in the\ncourt to meat, even in the presence of the emperor, whom when the\nemperor saw, he looked earnestly upon him, thinking by his looks he was\nsome wonderful fellow; wherefore he asked one of his nobles whom he\nshould be? He answered, that he was called Dr. Faustus. Whereupon the\nemperor held his peace until he had taken his repast; after which he\ncalled unto him Faustus into his privy-chamber; where being come, he\nsaid unto him: \"Faustus, I have heard much of thee, that thou art\nexcellent in the black art, and none like thee in my empire; for men say\nthat thou hast a familiar spirit with thee, and that thou canst do what\nthou list. It is, therefore,\" said the emperor, \"my request of thee that\nthou let me see proof of thy experience, and I vow unto thee, by the\nhonour of my imperial crown, none evil shall happen unto thee for so\ndoing.\"\n\nHereupon Dr. Faustus answered his Majesty, that upon those conditions he\nwas ready in anything that he could to do his highness's command in what\nservice he could appoint him.\n\n\"Well, hear then what I say,\" quoth the emperor. \"Being once solitary\nin my house, I called to mind my elders and ancestors, how it was\npossible for them to attain to so great a degree and authority, yea, so\nhigh, that we, the successors of that line, are not able to come near.\nAs for example, the great and mighty monarch of the world, Alexander\nMagnus, was such a pattern and spectacle to all his successors, as the\nchronicles make mention of, having so great riches, conquering and\nsubduing so many kingdoms, the which I and those that follow me (I fear)\nshall never be able to attain unto; wherefore, Faustus, my hearty desire\nis that thou wouldst vouchsafe to let me see that Alexander and his\nparamour, the which was praised to be so fair; and I pray thee show me\nthem in such sort that I may see their personages, shapes, gesture and\napparel, as they used in their lifetime, and that here before my face,\nto that end that I may say, I have my long desire fulfilled, and to\npraise thee to be a famous man in thy art and experience.\"\n\nDr. Faustus answered: \"My most excellent lord, I am ready to accomplish\nyour request in all things, so far forth as I and my spirit are able to\nperform; yet your Majesty shall know that their dead bodies are not able\nsubstantially to be brought before you; but such spirits as have seen\nAlexander and his paramour alive shall appear unto you in manner and\nform as they both lived in their most flourishing time, and herewith I\nhope to please your imperial Majesty.\" Then Faustus went a little aside\nand spoke to his spirit, but he returned again presently, saying, \"Now,\nif it please your Majesty, you shall see them, yet upon this condition,\nthat you demand no question of them, nor speak unto them;\" which the\nemperor agreed unto.\n\nWhereupon Dr. Faustus opened the privy-chamber door, where presently\nentered the great and mighty emperor, Alexander Magnus, in all things to\nlook upon as if he had been alive; in proportion, a strong set thick\nman, of a middle stature, black hair, and that both thick and curled,\nhead and beard, red cheeks, and a broad face, with eyes like a basilisk;\nhe had a complete harness furnished and engraven, exceeding rich to look\nupon; and so passing towards the Emperor Carolus he made a low and\nreverend courtesy; whereat the Emperor Carolus would have stood up to\nreceive and greet him with the like reverence. Faustus took hold on him,\nand would not permit him to do it. Shortly after Alexander made humble\nreverence, and went out again, and coming to the door, his paramour met\nhim. She coming in, made the emperor likewise reverence. She was clothed\nin blue velvet, wrought and embroidered with pearls and gold; she was\nalso excellent fair, like blood and milk mixed, tall and slender, with a\nface as round as an apple, and thus passed they certain times up and\ndown the house, which the emperor marking, said to himself, \"Now I have\nseen two persons which my heart hath long wished to behold; and sure it\ncannot otherwise be,\" said he to himself, \"but that the spirits have\nchanged themselves into these forms, and have but deceived me,\" calling\nto mind the woman that raised the prophet Samuel. And for that the\nemperor should be more satisfied in the matter, he said, \"I have often\nheard that behind in her neck she had a great wart or wen;\" wherefore he\ntook Faustus by the hand without any words, and went to see if it were\nable to be seen on her or not; but she perceiving that he came to her,\nbowed down her neck, where he saw a great wart, and hereupon she\nvanished, leaving the emperor and the rest well contented.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus, in the sight of the Emperor, conjured a Pair of Hart's\nHorns upon a Knight's Head, that slept out at a casement._\n\n\nWhen Dr. Faustus had accomplished the emperor's desire in all things as\nhe was requested, he went forth into the gallery, and leaning over a\nrail to look into the privy garden, he saw many of the emperor's\ncourtiers walking and talking together, and casting his eyes now this\nway, now that way, he espied a knight leaning out of the window of the\ngreat hall, who was fast asleep (for in those days it was hot); but the\nperson shall be nameless that slept, for that he was a knight, though it\nwas all done to no little disgrace of the gentleman. It pleased Dr.\nFaustus, through the help of his spirit Mephistophiles, to fix on his\nhead as he slept a huge pair of hart's horns; and as the knight awaked,\nthinking to pull in his head, he hit his horns against the glass,\nthat the panes thereof flew about his ears. Think here how this good\ngentleman was vexed, for he could neither get backward nor forward;\nwhich, when the emperor heard, all the courtiers laughed, and came for\nto see what had happened. The emperor also, when he beheld the knight\nwith so fair a head, laughed heartily thereat, and was therewith well\npleased. At last Faustus made him quit of his horns again, but the\nknight perceived not how they came.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI.\n\n_How the above-mentioned Knight went about to be revenged of Dr.\nFaustus._\n\n\nDr. Faustus took his leave of the emperor and the rest of the courtiers,\nat whose departure they were sorry, giving him many rewards and gifts;\nbut being a league and a half out of the city, he came into a wood,\nwhere he beheld the knight that he had jested with at the court with\nothers in harness, mounted upon fair palfreys, and running with full\ncharge towards Faustus; but he seeing their intent ran towards the\nbushes, and before he came among the bushes he returned again, running\nas it were to meet them that chased him: whereupon suddenly all the\nbushes were turned into horsemen, which also ran to encounter with the\nknight and his company, and coming to them, they enclosed the knight and\nthe rest, and told them they must pay their ransom before they departed;\nwhereupon the knight seeing himself in such distress, besought Faustus\nto be good to them, which he denied not but let them loose; yet he so\ncharmed them, that every one, knight and other, for the space of a whole\nmonth did wear a pair of goat's horns on their brows, and every palfrey\na pair of ox's horns on his head; and this was their penance appointed\nby Faustus.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII.\n\n_How three young Dukes being together at Wittenburg, to behold the\nUniversity, requested Faustus to help them at a Wish to the Town of\nMuncheon, in Bavaria, there to see the Duke of Bavaria's Son's Wedding._\n\n\nThree worthy young dukes, the which are not here to be named, but being\nstudents all together, at the university of Wittenburg, met on a time\nall together, where they fell in reasoning concerning the pomp and bravery\nthat should be in the city of Muncheon in Bavaria, at the wedding of\nthe duke's son, wishing themselves there but one half hour to see the\nmanner of their jollity; to whom one replied, saying to the two other\ngentlemen, \"If it please you to give me the hearing, I will give you\ngood counsel, that you may see the wedding, and be here again to-night,\nand this is my meaning: let us send to Dr. Faustus, make him a present\nof some rare thing, and open our minds unto him, desiring him to assist\nus in our enterprise, and assure ye he will not deny to fulfil our\nrequest.\" Hereupon they all concluded: sent for Faustus, told him their\nminds, and gave him a gift, and invited him to a sumptuous banquet,\nwherewith Faustus was well contented, and promised to further their\njourney to the uttermost: and when the time was come that the three\nyoung gentlemen came into his house, commanding them that they would put\non their best apparel, and adorn themselves as rich as they could. He\ntook off his great large cloak, went into the garden that was adjoining\nunto his house, and set the three young dukes upon his cloak, and he\nhimself in the midst: but he gave them in charge, that in anywise they\nshould not at once open their mouths to speak, or make answer to any man\nso soon as they went out, not so much as if the Duke of Bavaria or his\nson should speak to them, or offer them courtesy, they should give no\nword or answer again; to which they all agreed.\n\nThese conditions being made, Dr. Faustus began to conjure, and on a\nsudden arose a mighty wind, heaving up the cloak, and so carried them\naway in the air, and in due time they came unto Muncheon to the duke's\ncourt; where being entered into the utmost court, the marshal had espied\nthem, who presently went to the duke, showing his grace that all the\nlords and gentlemen were ready set at the table, notwithstanding there\nwere newly come three goodly gentlemen with one servant, the which stood\nwithout in the court, wherefore the good old duke came out unto them,\nwelcoming them, requiring what they were, and whence? But they made no\nanswer at all; whereat the duke wondered, thinking they had been all\ndumb: notwithstanding for his honour's sake he took them into the court,\nand feasted them. Faustus notwithstanding spake to them, \"If anything\nhappen otherwise than well, when I say, Sit up, then fall you all on the\ncloak, and good enough.\"\n\nWell, the water being brought, and that they must wash, one of the three\nhad some manners as to desire his friend to wash first, which when\nFaustus heard, he said, \"Sit up;\" and all at once they got on the cloak,\nbut he that spoke fell off again, the other two with Dr. Faustus were\nagain presently at Wittenburg: but he that remained was taken and laid\nin prison: wherefore the other two gentlemen were very sorrowful for\ntheir friend, but Faustus comforted them, promising that on the morrow\nhe should also be at Wittenburg.\n\nNow all this while was the duke taken in great fear, and strucken into\nan exceeding dumps, wondering with himself that his hap was so hard to\nbe left behind, and not the rest: and now being locked and watched with\nso many keepers: there was also certain of the guests that fell to\nreasoning with him to know what he was, and also what the other were\nthat were vanished away? But the poor prisoner thought with himself, \"If\nI open what they are, then it will be evil also with me.\" Wherefore all\nthis while he gave no man any answer, so that he was there a whole day\nand gave no man a word: wherefore the old duke gave charge that the next\nmorning they should rack him until he had confessed; which when the\nyoung duke heard, he began to sorrow, and to say with himself, \"It may\nbe, that to-morrow (if Dr. Faustus come not to aid me) I shall be racked\nand grievously tormented, insomuch that I shall be constrained by force\nto say more than willingly I would do.\"\n\nBut he comforted himself with hope that his friends would entreat Dr.\nFaustus about his deliverance, as also it came to pass: for that before\nit was day, Dr. Faustus was by him, and he conjured them that watched\nhim into such a heavy sleep, that he with his charms made open all the\nlocks in the prison, and therewithal brought the young duke again in\nsafety to the rest of his fellows and friends, where they presented\nFaustus with a sumptuous gift, and so departed one from another.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus borrowed Money of a Jew, and laid his own Leg in Pawn\nfor it._\n\n\nIt is a common proverb in Germany that, although a conjurer have all\nthings at command, the day will come that he shall not be worth a penny:\nso it is like to fall out with Dr. Faustus in promising the devil so\nlargely; but as the devil is the author of all lies, even so he led\nFaustus his mind in practising things to deceive the people, and\nblinding them, wherein he took his whole delight, thereby to bring\nhimself to riches. Notwithstanding, in the end he was never the richer;\nand although during twenty-four years of his time that the devil set him\nhe wanted nothing, yet was he best pleased when he might deceive\nanybody; for out of the mightiest potentates' courts in all these\ncountries he would send his spirit to fetch away their best cheer.\n\nAnd on a time, being in his merriment, where he was banqueting with\nother students in an inn, thereunto resorted many Jews; which when Dr.\nFaustus perceived, he was minded to play a merry jest to deceive a Jew,\ndesiring one of them to lend him some money for a time. The Jew was\ncontent, and lent Faustus threescore dollars for a month, which time\nbeing expired, the Jew came for his money and interest; but Dr. Faustus\nwas never minded to pay the Jew again. At length the Jew coming home to\nhis house, and calling importunately for his money, Dr. Faustus made him\nthis answer: \"Jew, I have no money, nor know I how to pay thee; but\nnotwithstanding to the end thou mayst be contented, I will cut off a\nlimb of my body, be it arm or leg, and the same thou shalt have in pawn\nfor thy money; yet with this condition, that when I shall pay thee thy\nmoney again, then thou shalt give me my limb.\"\n\nThe Jew, that was never a friend to a Christian, thought with himself,\n'This fellow is right for my purpose, that will lay his limbs in\npawn for money,' and was therewith very well content. Wherefore Dr.\nFaustus took a saw and therewith seemed to cut off his leg, being\nnotwithstanding nothing so. Well, he gave it to the Jew, yet upon this\ncondition, when he got money to pay the Jew should deliver him his leg,\nto the end he might set it on again.\n\nThe Jew was with this matter very well pleased, took his leg and\ndeparted; and having to go far home he was somewhat weary, and by the\nway he thus bethought him: \"What helpeth me a knave's leg? If I should\ncarry it home it would stink and infect my house; besides, it is too\nhard a piece of work to set it on again: wherefore, what an ass was\nFaustus to lay so great a pawn for so small a sum of money! And for my\npart,\" quoth the Jew to himself, \"this will never profit me anything;\"\nand with these words he cast the leg away from him into a ditch.\n\nAll this Dr. Faustus knew right well, therefore within three days after\nsent for the Jew to make him payment of his sixty dollars. The Jew\ncame, and Dr. Faustus demanded his pawn--there was his money ready for\nhim. The Jew answered, \"The pawn was not profitable nor necessary for\nanything, so I cast it away.\" But Faustus, threatening, replied, \"I will\nhave my leg again, or else one of thine for it.\" The Jew fell to\nintreat, promising him to give him what money he would ask if he would\nnot deal strictly with him. Wherefore the Jew was constrained to give\nhim sixty dollars more to be rid of him; and yet Faustus had his leg on,\nfor he had but blinded the Jew.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus deceived the Horse-courser._\n\n\nAfter this manner he deceived a horse-courser at a fair, called\nPheifering: for Faustus, through his conjuring, had gotten an excellent\nfair horse, whereupon he rid to the fair, where he had many chapmen that\noffered him money; lastly, he sold him for forty dollars, and willing\nhim that bought him, that in anywise he should not ride him over the\nwater. But the horse-courser marvelled with himself that Faustus bade\nhim ride over no water. \"But,\" quoth he, \"I will prove;\" and forthwith\nhe rid him into the river. Presently the horse vanished from under him,\nand he was left on a bottle of straw, insomuch that the man was almost\ndrowned.\n\nThe horse-courser knew well where he lay that had sold him his horse;\nwhereupon he went angerly to his inn, where he found Dr. Faustus fast\nasleep and snorting on a bed. But the horse-courser could no longer\nforbear him, but took him by the leg and began to pull him off the bed;\nbut he pulled him so that he pulled his leg from his body, insomuch that\nthe horse-courser fell backwards in the place. Then began Dr. Faustus to\ncry with open throat, \"He hath murdered me.\" Hereat the horse-courser\nwas afraid, and gave the flight, thinking no other with himself but that\nhe had pulled his leg from his body. By this means Dr. Faustus kept his\nmoney.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus ate a Load of Hay._\n\n\nDr. Faustus being at a town in Germany called Zwickow, where he was\naccompanied with many doctors and masters, and going forth to walk\nafter supper, they met with a clown that drew a load of hay.\n\n\"Good even, good fellow,\" said Faustus to the clown, \"what shall I give\nthee to let me eat my bellyful of hay?\" The clown thought with himself,\n\"What a madman is this to eat hay.\" Thought he with himself, \"Thou wilt\nnot eat much.\" They agreed for three farthings he should eat as much as\nhe could.\n\nWherefore Dr. Faustus began to eat, and so ravenously, that all the rest\nof the company fell a-laughing; blinding so the poor clown that he was\nsorry at his heart, for he seemed to have eaten more than half of the\nhay; wherefore the clown began to speak him fair, for fear he should\nhave eaten the other half also. Faustus made as though he had pity on\nthe clown, and went away. When the clown came in the place where he\nwould be, he had his hay again as he had before, a full load.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus served the Twelve Students._\n\n\nAt Wittenburg, before Faustus's house, there was a quarrel between seven\nstudents, and five that came to part the rest, one part stronger than\nthe other. Wherefore Dr. Faustus, seeing them to be over-matched, conjured\nthem all blind, insomuch that the one could not see the other, and he\ndealt so with them, that they fought and smote at one another still;\nwhereat all the beholders fell a-laughing; and thus they continued\nblind, beating one another until the people parted them and led each one\nto his own house, where being entered into their houses, they received\ntheir sight presently again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus served the Drunken Clowns._\n\n\nDr. Faustus went into an inn wherein were many tables full of clowns,\nthe which were tippling can after can of excellent wine; and to be\nshort, they were all drunken; and as they sate, they so sang and\nholloaed, that one could not hear a man speak for them. This angered Dr.\nFaustus; wherefore he said to them that called him in, \"Mark, my\nmasters, I will show a merry jest.\"\n\nThe clowns continued still holloaing and singing; he conjured them\nthat their mouths stood as wide open as it was possible for them to\nhold them, and never a one of them was able to close his mouth again;\nby-and-by the noise was gone; the clowns notwithstanding looked earnest\none upon another, and knew not what was happened. One by one they went\nout, and so soon as they came without, they were all as well as ever\nthey were, but none of them desired to go in any more.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus sold five Swine for six Dollars apiece._\n\n\nDr. Faustus began another jest. He made ready five fat swine the which\nhe sold to one for six dollars apiece, upon this condition, that the\nswine-driver should not drive them into the water. Dr. Faustus went\nhome again, and as the swine had fouled themselves in the mud, the\nswine-driver drove them into the water, where presently they were\nchanged into so many bundles of straw, swimming upright in the water.\nThe buyer looked wistfully upon them, and was sorry in his heart; but\nhe knew not where to find Faustus; so he was content to let all go, and\nlose both money and hogs.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIX.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus played a merry Jest with the Duke of Anhalt in his\nCourt._\n\nDr. Faustus on a time went to the Duke of Anhalt, who welcomed him\nvery courteously. This was in the month of January; where sitting at\ntable, he perceived the duchess to be with child; and forbearing himself\nuntil the meat was taken from the table, and that they brought in the\nbanqueting dishes, Dr. Faustus said to the duchess, \"Gracious lady, I\nhave always heard that women with child do always long for some\ndainties; I beseech therefore your grace, hide not your mind from me,\nbut tell me what you desire to eat.\"\n\nShe answered him: \"Dr. Faustus, now truly I will not hide from you what\nmy heart doth much desire; namely, that if it were now harvest, I would\neat my fill of grapes and other dainty fruit.\"\n\nDr. Faustus answered hereupon: \"Gracious lady, this is a small thing for\nme to do, for I can do more than this.\" Wherefore he took a plate and\nset it upon one of the casements of the window, holding it forth, where\nincontinent he had his dish full of all manner of fruit, as red and\nwhite grapes, pears, and apples, the which came from out of strange\ncountries. All these he presented to the duchess, saying: \"Madam, I pray\nyou vouchsafe to taste of this dainty fruit, the which came from a far\ncountry, for there the summer is not yet ended.\" The duchess thanked\nFaustus highly, and she fell to her fruit with full appetite.\n\nThe Duke of Anhalt notwithstanding could not withhold to ask Faustus\nwith what reason there were such young fruits to be had at that time of\nthe year?\n\nDr. Faustus told him: \"May it please your grace to understand, that the\nyear is divided into two circles of the whole world, that when with us\nit is winter, in the contrary circle it is notwithstanding summer; for\nin India and Saba there falleth or setteth a sun, so that it is so warm,\nthat they have twice a year fruit; and, gracious lord, I have a swift\nspirit, the which can in a twinkling of an eye fulfil my desire in\nanything; wherefore I sent him into those countries, who hath brought\nthis fruit as you see;\" whereat the duke greatly admired.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XL.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus, through his Charms, made a great Castle in the\npresence of the Duke of Anhalt._\n\n\nDr. Faustus desired the Duke of Anhalt to walk a little forth of the\ncourt with him; wherefore they went together in the field, where Dr.\nFaustus (through his skill) had placed a mighty castle, which when the\nduke saw he wondered thereat, so did the duchess and all the beholders,\nthat on that hill which is called Rohumbuel, should on the sudden be so\nfair a castle. At length Dr. Faustus desired the duke and duchess to\nwalk with him into the castle, which they denied not. This castle was so\nwonderful strong, having about it a great deep trench of water, the\nwhich was full of fish, and all manner of water-fowl, as swans, ducks,\ngeese, bitterns, and such like; about the wall was five stone doors, and\ntwo other doors also; within was a great open court, wherein was\nenchanted all manner of wild beasts, especially such as was not to be\nfound in Germany, as apes, bears, buffes, antelopes, and many more\nstrange beasts; also there were harts, hinds, roebucks, and does, and\nwild swine; all manner of land-fowl that any man could think on, which\nflew from one tree to another.\n\nAfter all this he set his guests to the table, being the duke and\nduchess, with all their train, for he had provided them a most sumptuous\nfeast both of meat, and also of drink; for he set nine messes of meat\nupon the board at once. And all this must his Wagner do, to place all\nthings on the board, the which was brought unto him by the spirit\ninvisibly, of all things their hearts could desire, as wild-fowl,\nvenison, and all manner of dainty fish that could be thought on. Of wine\nalso great plenty, and of divers sorts, French wine, Cullen wine,\nCrabashir wine, Renish wine, Spanish wine, Hungarian wine, Waszburg\nwine, Malmsey, and Sack; in the whole there was one hundred cans\nstanding round about the house.\n\nThis sumptuous banquet the duke took thankfully, and afterwards he\ndeparted homeward; but to their thinking they had neither eat nor drank,\nso were they blinded while they were in the castle. But as they were in\ntheir palace, they looked towards the castle, and beheld it all on a\nflame of fire, and all those that saw it wondered to hear so strange a\nnoise, as if a great ordnance had been shot off. And thus the castle\nburned and consumed clean away; which done, Dr. Faustus returned to the\nduke, who gave him great thanks for showing of him so great a courtesy,\nand gave him a hundred dollars, and liberty to depart or stay there at\nhis own discretion.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLI.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus, with his Company, visited the Bishop of Salisburg's\nWine-cellar._\n\n\nDr. Faustus having taken leave of the duke, he went to Wittenburg,\nnear about Shrovetide, and being in company with certain students, Dr.\nFaustus was himself the God of Bacchus, who having well feasted the\nstudents before with dainty fare, after the manner of Germany, where it\nis counted no feast unless all the bidden guests be drunk, which Dr.\nFaustus intending, said, \"Gentlemen, and my guests, will it please you\nto take a cup of wine with me in a place or cellar whereunto I will\nbring you?\" They all said willingly, \"We will;\" which, when Dr. Faustus\nheard, he took them forth, set each of them upon a holly-wand, and so\nwas conjured into the Bishop of Salisburg's cellar, for thereabouts grew\nexcellent pleasant wine. There fell Faustus and his company a-drinking\nand swilling, not of the worst, but of the best.\n\nAnd as they were merry in the cellar, came to draw drink the bishop's\nbutler; which when he perceived so many persons there, he cried with a\nloud voice, \"Thieves, thieves!\" This spited Dr. Faustus wonderfully,\nwherefore he made every one of his company to sit on their holly-wand,\nand so vanished away. And in parting, Dr. Faustus took the butler by the\nhair of the head, and carried him away with them, until they came to a\nmighty high-lopped tree; and on the top of that huge tree he set the\nbutler, where he remained in a most fearful perplexity.\n\nDr. Faustus departed to his house, where they took their valete one\nafter another, drinking the wine that they had stolen in their bottles\nout of the bishop's cellar. The butler, that had held himself by the\nhands upon the lopped tree all the night, was almost frozen with the\ncold, espying the day, and seeing the tree of huge great highness,\nthought with himself, \"It is impossible to come off this tree without\nperil of death.\" At length, espying certain clowns passing by, he cried,\n\"For the love of God help me down!\" The clowns, seeing him so high,\nwondered what madman would climb up so huge a tree; wherefore, as a\nthing most miraculous, they carried tidings to the Bishop of Salisburg.\nThen was there great running on every side to see him on the tree, and\nmany devices they practised to get him down with ropes, and being\ndemanded of the bishop how he came there, he said that he was brought\nthither, by the hair of the head, by certain thieves that were robbing\nof the wine-cellar, but what they were he knew not; \"for,\" said he,\n\"they had faces like men, but they wrought like devils.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus kept his Shrovetide._\n\n\nThere were seven students and masters that studied divinity,\njurisprudentiae, and medicinae. All these having consented, were agreed to\nvisit Dr. Faustus, and to celebrate Shrovetide with him; who being come\nto his house, he gave them their welcome, for they were his dear\nfriends, desiring them to sit down, where he served them with a very\ngood supper of hens, fish, and other roast, yet were they but slightly\ncheered; wherefore Dr. Faustus comforted his guests, excusing himself\nthat they had stolen upon him so suddenly, that he had not leisure to\nprovide for them so well as they were worthy. \"But, my good friends,\"\nquoth he, \"according to the use of our country, we must drink all this\nnight; and so a draught of the best wine bedwards is commendable. For\nyou know that in great potentates' courts they use at this night great\nfeasting, the like will I do for you; for I have three great flagons of\nwine: the first is full of Hungarian wine, containing eight gallons; the\nsecond of Italian wine, containing seven gallons; the third containing\nsix gallons of Spanish wine; all the which we will tipple up before it\nbe day. Besides, we have fifteen dishes of meat, the which my spirit\nMephistophiles hath fetched so far, that it was cold before he brought\nit, and they are all full of the daintiest things that one's heart can\ndevise. But,\" saith Faustus, \"I must make them hot again; and you may\nbelieve me, gentlemen, that this is no blinding of you; whereas you\nthink that this is no natural food, verily it is as good and as pleasant\nas ever you eat.\"\n\nAnd having ended his tale, he commanded his boy to lay his cloth, which\ndone, he served them with fifteen messes of meat, having three dishes in\na mess; in the which were all manner of venison, and dainty wild-fowl;\nand for wine there was no lack, as Italian wine, Hungarian wine, and\nSpanish wine; and when they were all made drunk, and that they had eaten\ntheir good cheer, they began to sing and dance until it was day. And so\nthey departed every one to his own habitation; at whose departing, Dr.\nFaustus desired them to be his guests again the next day following.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus feasted his Guests on Ash Wednesday._\n\n\nUpon Ash Wednesday came unto Dr. Faustus his bidden guests, the students,\nwhom he feasted very royally, insomuch that they were all full and\nlusty, dancing and singing as the night before; and when the high\nglasses and goblets were caroused one to another, Dr. Faustus began to\nplay them some pretty feats, insomuch that round about the hall was\nheard most pleasant music, and that in sundry places: in this corner a\nlute, in another a cornet, in another a cittern, clarigols, harp,\nhornpipe, in fine, all manner of music was heard there in that instant;\nwhereat all the glasses and goblets, cups, and pots, dishes, and all\nthat stood upon the board began to dance. Then Dr. Faustus took ten\nstone pots and set them down on the floor, where presently they began to\ndance, and to smite one against another, that the shivers flew round\nabout the whole house, whereat the whole company fell a-laughing. Then\nbegan he another jest: he set an instrument upon the table, and caused a\nmighty great ape to come among them, which ape began to dance and skip,\nshowing them merry conceits.\n\nIn this and such pastime they passed away the whole day. When night\nbeing come Dr. Faustus bid them all to supper, which they lightly agreed\nunto, for students in these cases are easily intreated; wherefore he\npromised to feast them with a banquet of fowl, and afterwards they would\ngo all about with a mask. Then Dr. Faustus put forth a long pole out of\nthe window, whereupon presently there came innumerable numbers of birds\nand wild-fowl, and so many as came had not the power to fly away again;\nbut he took them and flung them to the students, who lightly pulled off\nthe necks of them, and being roasted, they made their supper, which\nbeing ended, they made themselves ready for the mask.\n\nDr. Faustus commanded every one to put on a clean shirt over the other\nclothes, which being done, they looked one upon another. It seemed to\neach one of them that they had no heads; and so they went forth unto\ncertain of their neighbours, at which sight the people were most\nwonderfully afraid; and as the use of Germany is, that wheresoever a\nmask entereth the good man of the house must feast him, so as these\nmaskers were set to their banquet, they seemed again in their former\nshape with heads, insomuch that they were all known whom they were; and\nhaving sat and well eat and drank, Dr. Faustus made that every one had\nan ass's head on, with great long ears, so they fell to dancing and to\ndrive away the time until it was midnight, and then every one departed\nhome; and as soon as they were out of the house, each one was in his\nnatural shape, and so they ended and went to sleep.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIV.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus the Day following was feasted by the Students, and of\nhis merry Jests with them while he was in their Company._\n\n\nThe last bacchanalia was held on Thursday, where ensued a great snow,\nand Dr. Faustus was invited unto the students that were with him the day\nbefore, where they prepared an excellent banquet for him, which banquet\nbeing ended, Dr. Faustus began to play his old projects. And forthwith\nwas in the place thirteen apes, that took hands and danced round in\na ring together; then they fell to tumbling and vaulting one after\nanother, that it was most pleasant to behold; then they leaped out of\nthe window and vanished away. Then they set before Dr. Faustus a roasted\ncalf's head, which one of the students cut a piece off, and laid it on\nDr. Faustus his trencher, which piece was no sooner laid down but the\ncalf's head began to cry mainly out like a man, \"Murder, murder! Out,\nalas! what dost thou to me?\" Whereat they were all amazed, but after a\nwhile, considering of Faustus's jesting tricks, they began to laugh, and\nthey pulled asunder the calf's head and eat it up.\n\nWhereupon Dr. Faustus asked leave to depart, but they would in nowise\nagree to let him go, except that he would promise to come again\npresently. Then Faustus, through his cunning, made a sledge, the which\nwas drawn about the house with four fiery dragons. This was fearful for\nthe students to behold, for they saw Faustus ride up and down, as though\nhe would have fired and slain all them that were in the house. This\nsport continued until midnight, with such a noise that they could not\nhear one another; the heads of the students were so light that they\nthought themselves to be in the air all that time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLV.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus showed the fair Helena unto the Students upon the\nSunday following._\n\n\nThe Sunday following came the students home to Dr. Faustus his own\nhouse, and brought their meat and drink with them. Those men were right\nwelcome guests unto Faustus, wherefore they all fell to drinking of wine\nsmoothly; and being merry, they began some of them to talk of beauty of\nwomen, and every one gave forth his verdict what he had seen, and what\nhe had heard. So one amongst the rest said, \"I was never so desirous of\nanything in this world as to have a sight (if it were possible) of fair\nHelena of Greece, for whom the worthy town of Troy was destroyed and\nrazed down to the ground; therefore,\" saith he, \"that in all men's\njudgments she was more than commonly fair, because that when she was\nstolen away from her husband there was for her recovery so great\nbloodshed.\"\n\nDr. Faustus answered: \"For that you are all my friends, and are so\ndesirous to see that stately pearl of Greece, fair Helena, the wife to\nKing Menelaus, and daughter of Tyndarus and Leda, sister to Castor and\nPollux, who was the fairest lady of all Greece, I will therefore bring\nher into your presence personally, and in the same form and attire as\nshe used to go when she was in her chiefest flower and choicest prime\nof youth. The like have I done for the Emperor Carolus Magnus; at his\ndesire I showed him Alexander the Great, and his paramour. But,\" said\nDr. Faustus, \"I charge you all that upon your perils you speak not a\nword, nor rise up from the table so long as she is in your presence.\"\n\nAnd so he went out of the hall, returning presently again, after whom\nimmediately followed the fair and beautiful Helena, whose beauty was\nsuch that the students were all amazed to see her, esteeming her rather\nto be an heavenly than an earthly creature. This lady appeared before\nthem in a most rich gown of purple velvet, costly embroidered; her hair\nhanging down loose, as fair as the beaten gold, and of such length that\nit reached down to her hams; having most amorous coal-black eyes; a\nsweet and pleasant round face, with lips as red as any cherry; her\ncheeks of a rose colour, her mouth small; her neck white like a swan,\ntall and slender of personage; in sum, there was no imperfect place in\nher. She looked round about her with a rolling hawk's eye, a smiling and\nwanton countenance, which near hand inflamed the hearts of all the\nstudents, but that they persuaded themselves she was a spirit, which\nmade them lightly pass away such fancies; and thus fair Helena and\nFaustus went out again one with another.\n\nBut the students, at Faustus entering in the hall again, requested him\nto let them see her again the next day, for that they will bring with\nthem a painter to take a counterfeit, which he denied, affirming that he\ncould not always raise up his spirit, but only at certain times. \"Yet,\"\nsaid he, \"I will give unto you her counterfeit, which shall be as good\nto you as if yourself should see the drawing thereof;\" which they\nreceived according to his promise, but soon after lost it again. The\nstudents departed from Faustus to their several lodgings, but none of\nthem could sleep that night for thinking of the beauty of fair Helena;\ntherefore a man may see how the devil blindeth and inflameth the heart\noftentimes, that men fall in love with harlots, from which their minds\ncan afterwards be hardly removed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVI.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus conjured the four Wheels from the Clown's Waggon._\n\n\nDr. Faustus was sent for to come to the Marshal of Brunswick, who was\nmarvellously troubled with the falling sickness. Now Faustus had this\nquality, he seldom rid, but commonly walked afoot to ease himself when\nhe list; and as he came near unto the town of Brunswick there overtook\nhim a clown with four horses and an empty waggon, to whom Dr. Faustus\n(jestingly, to try him) said: \"I pray thee, good fellow, let me ride a\nlittle to ease my weary legs;\" which the buzzardly ass denied, saying\nthat his horse was weary; and he would not let him get up.\n\nDr. Faustus did this but to prove this clown if there were any courtesy\nto be found in him if need were; but such churlishness is usually found\namong clowns. But he was well requited by Faustus, even with the like\npayment: for he said to him, \"Thou dotish clown, void of all humanity,\nseeing thou art of so churlish a disposition, I will pay thee as thou\nhast deserved, for the four wheels of thy waggon thou shalt have taken\nfrom thee; let me see then how thou canst shift.\" Whereupon his wheels\nwere gone, his horses fell also down to the ground as though they had\nbeen dead; whereat the clown was sore affrighted, measuring it as a\njust scourge of God for his sins and churlishness. Wherefore with a\ntrembling and wailing he humbly besought Dr. Faustus to be good unto\nhim, confessing he was worthy of it; notwithstanding if it pleased him\nto forgive him he would hereafter do better. Which submission made\nFaustus his heart to relent, answering him on this manner: \"Well, do so\nno more; but when a poor man desireth thee, see that thou let him ride.\nBut yet thou shalt not go altogether clear, for although thou have again\nthy four wheels, yet thou shalt fetch them at the four gates of the\ncity.\" So he threw dust on the horses and revived them again. And the\nclown for his churlishness was fain to fetch his wheels, spending his\ntime with weariness; whereas if before he had showed a little kindness\nhe might quietly have gone about his business.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVII.\n\n_How four Jugglers cut one another's Heads off, and set them on again,\nand Faustus deceived them._\n\n\nDr. Faustus came in Lent unto Frankland fair, where his spirit\nMephistophiles gave him to understand that in an inn were four jugglers\nthat cut one another's heads off: and after their cutting off sent them\nto the barber to be trimmed, which many people saw.\n\nThis angered Faustus, for he meant to have himself the only cook in the\ndevil's banquet, and went to the place where they were, to beguile them,\nand as the jugglers were together, ready one to cut off another's head,\nthere stood also the barber ready to trim them, and by them upon the\ntable stood likewise a glass full of stilled waters, and he that was the\nchiefest among them stood by it. Thus they began; they smote off the\nhead of the first, and presently there was a lily in the glass of\ndistilled water, where Faustus perceived this lily as it was springing,\nand the chief juggler named it the tree of life. Thus dealt he with the\nfirst, making the barber wash and comb his head, and then he set it on\nagain. Presently the lily vanished away out of the water; hereat the man\nhad his head whole and sound again. The like did he with the other\ntwo; and as the turn and lot came to the chief juggler, that he also\nshould be beheaded, and that this lily was most pleasant, fair, and\nflourishing green, they smote his head off, and when it came to be\nbarbed, it troubled Faustus his conscience, insomuch that he could not\nabide to see another do anything, for he thought himself to be the\nprincipal conjurer in the world; wherefore Dr. Faustus went to the table\nwhereat the other jugglers kept that lily, and so he took a small knife\nand cut off the stalk of the lily, saying to himself, \"None of them\nshall blind Faustus.\" Yet no man saw Faustus to cut the lily; but when\nthe rest of the jugglers thought to have set on their master's head,\nthey could not; wherefore they looked on the lily, and found it\nbleeding. By this means the juggler was beguiled, and so died in his\nwickedness; yet no one thought that Dr. Faustus had done it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVIII.\n\n_How an old Man, the Neighbour of Faustus, sought to persuade him to\nmend his Life, and to fall unto Repentance._\n\n\nA good Christian, an honest and virtuous old man, a lover of the Holy\nScriptures, who was neighbour to Dr. Faustus, when he perceived that\nmany students had their recourse in and out unto Dr. Faustus, he\nsuspected his evil life, wherefore like a friend he invited Dr. Faustus\nto supper unto his house, to which he agreed, and having entered their\nbanquet, the old man began with these words:\n\n\"My loving friend and neighbour, Dr. Faustus, I am to desire of you a\nfriendly and Christian request, beseeching you would vouchsafe not to be\nangry with me, but friendly resolve me in my doubt, and take my poor\ninviting in good part.\"\n\nTo whom Dr. Faustus answered, \"My good neighbour, I pray you say your\nmind.\"\n\nThen began the old patron to say, \"My good neighbour, you know in the\nbeginning how that you have defied God and all the host of heaven, and\ngiven your soul to the devil, wherewith you have incurred God's high\ndispleasure, and are become from a Christian far worse than a heathen\nperson. Oh! consider what you have done, it is not only the pleasure of\nthe body, but the safety of the soul that you must have respect unto; of\nwhich, if you be careless, then are you cast away, and shall remain in\nthe anger of the Almighty God. But yet it is time enough, O Faustus! if\nyou repent, and call upon the Lord for mercy, as we have example in the\nActs of the Apostles, the eighth chapter, of Simon in Samaria, who was\nled out of the way, affirming that he was Simon homo sanctus. This man\nnotwithstanding in the end, was converted, after he had heard the sermon\nof Philip, for he was baptized and saw his sin and repented. Likewise I\nbeseech you, good brother, Dr. Faustus, let my rude sermon be unto you a\nconversion, and forget thy filthy life that thou hast led, repent, ask\nmercy, and live: for Christ saith, 'Come unto me all ye that are weary\nand heavy laden, and I will refresh you.' And in Ezekiel, 'I desire not\nthe death of a sinner, but rather that he will convert and live.' Let my\nwords, good brother Faustus, pierce into your adamant heart, and desire\nGod for his Son Christ his sake to forgive you. Wherefore have you lived\nso long in your devilish practices, knowing that in the Old and New\nTestament you are forbidden, and men should not suffer any such to live,\nneither have any conversation with them, for it is an abomination unto\nthe Lord, and that such persons have no part in the kingdom of God.\"\n\nAll this while Dr. Faustus heard him very attentively, and replied:\n\"Father, your persuasions like me wondrous well, and I thank you with\nall my heart for your good will and counsel, promising you, as far as I\nmay, to allow your discipline.\" Whereupon he took his leave, and being\ncome home, he laid him very pensive on his bed, bethinking himself of\nthe words of this old man, and in a manner began to repent that he had\ngiven his soul to the devil, intending to deny all that he had promised\nto Lucifer.\n\nContinuing in these cogitations, suddenly his spirit appeared unto him,\nclapping him upon the head, and wrung it as though he would have pulled\nhis head from his shoulders, saying unto him, \"Thou knowest, Faustus,\nthat thou hast given thyself, body and soul, to my lord Lucifer, and\nthou hast vowed thyself an enemy to God and to all men; and now thou\nbeginnest to hearken to an old doting fool, which persuadeth thee as it\nwere to good, when indeed it is too late, for thou art the devil's, and\nhe hath great power presently to fetch thee. Wherefore he hath sent me\nunto thee to tell thee, that seeing thou hast sorrowed for that which\nthou hast done, begin again, and write another writing with thine own\nblood; if not, then will I tear thee in pieces.\"\n\nHereat Dr. Faustus was sore afraid, and said, \"My Mephistophiles, I will\nwrite again what thou wilt.\" Then presently he sat him down, and with\nhis own blood wrote as followeth: which writing was afterwards sent to a\ndear friend of Faustus, being his kinsman.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIX.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus wrote the second time with his own Blood, and gave it\nto the Devil._\n\n\nI, Dr. John Faustus, _do acknowledge by this my deed and handwriting,\nthat since my first writing, which is seventeen years past, I have right\nwillingly held, and have been an utter enemy to God and all men; the\nwhich I once again confirm, and give fully and wholly myself unto the\ndevil, both body and soul, even unto great Lucifer, and that at the end\nof seven years ensuing after the date hereof, he shall have to do with\nme according as it pleaseth him, either to lengthen or shorten my life\nas it pleaseth him; and hereupon I renounce all persuaders, that seek to\nwithdraw me from my purpose by the word of God, either ghostly or bodily;\nand farther I will never give ear to any man, be he spiritual or\ntemporal, that moveth any matter for the salvation of my soul. Of all\nthis writing, and that therein contained, be witness my blood, which\nwith my own hands I have begun and ended. Dated at Wittenburg, the 25th\nof July._\n\nAnd presently upon the making of this writing, he became so great an\nenemy to the poor old man, that he sought his life by all means\npossible; but this good old man was strong in the Holy Ghost, that he\ncould not be vanquished by any means; for about two days after that he\nhad exhorted Faustus, as the poor old man lay in his bed, suddenly there\nwas a mighty rumbling in the chamber, which he was never wont to hear,\nand he heard as it had been the groaning of a sow, which lasted long:\nwhereupon the good old man began to jest and mock, and said, \"Oh! what\nbarbarian cry is this? Oh, fair bird! what foul music is this? A fair\nangel, that could not tarry two days in this place? Beginnest thou now\nto turn into a poor man's house, where thou hast no power, and wert not\nable to keep thine own two days?\" With these and such like words the\nspirit departed; and when he came home, Faustus asked him how he had\nsped with the old man, to whom the spirit answered: \"The old man was\nharnessed so, that he could not once lay hold upon him;\" but he would\nnot tell how the old man had mocked him, for the devils can never abide\nto hear of their fall. Thus doth God defend the hearts of all honest\nChristians that betake themselves to his tuition.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER L.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus made a Marriage between two Lovers._\n\n\nIn the city of Wittenburg was a student, a gallant gentleman, named N.\nN. This gentleman was far in love with a gentlewoman, fair and proper of\npersonage: this gentlewoman had a knight that was a suitor unto her, and\nmany other gentlemen, which desired her in marriage, but none could\nobtain her. So it was that in despair with himself, that he pined away\nto skin and bones.\n\nBut when he opened the matter to Dr. Faustus, he asked counsel of his\nspirit Mephistophiles, the which told him what to do. Hereupon Dr.\nFaustus went home to the gentleman, who bade him be of good cheer, for\nhe should have his desire, for he would help him to that he wished\nfor, and that this gentlewoman should love none other but him only:\nwherefore Dr. Faustus so changed the mind of the damsel by the practice\nhe wrought, that she could do no other thing but think on him whom\nbefore she had hated, neither cared she for any man but him alone. The\ndevice was thus: Faustus commanded the gentleman that he should clothe\nhimself in all the best apparel that he had, and that he should go unto\nthe gentlewoman and show himself, giving him a ring, commanding him in\nanywise that he should dance with her before he departed; who following\nhis counsel, went to her, and when they began to dance, they that were\nsuitors began to take every one his lady by the hand; this gentleman\ntook her who before had so disdained him, and in the dance he put the\nring into her hand that Faustus had given him, which she no sooner\ntouched, but she fell presently in love with him, smiling at him in the\ndance, and many times winking at him, rolling her eyes, and in the end\nshe asked him if he could love her, and make her his wife. He gladly\nanswered that he was content; whereupon they concluded, and were married\nby the means and help of Faustus, for which the gentleman well rewarded\nhim.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LI.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus led his Friends into his Garden at Christmas, and\nshowed them many strange Sights, in the nineteenth Year._\n\n\nIn December, about Christmas, in the city of Wittenburg, were many young\ngentlemen, which were come out of the country to be merry with their\nfriends, amongst whom there were certain well acquainted with Dr. Faustus,\nwho often invited them home unto his house. They being there on a certain\ntime, after dinner he had them into his garden, where they beheld all\nmanner of flowers and fresh herbs, and trees bearing fruit, and blossoms\nof all sorts; who wondered to see that his garden should so flourish at\nthat time, as in the midst of the summer, when abroad in the streets and\nall the country lay full of snow and ice; wherefore this was noted of\nthem as a thing miraculous, every one gathering and carrying away all\nsuch things as they best liked, and so departed, delighted with their\nsweet-smelling flowers.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus gathered together a great Army of Men in his extremity,\nagainst a Knight that would have Conjured him on his own Journey._\n\n\nDr. Faustus travelled towards Evzeleben, and when he was nigh half the\nway, he espied seven horsemen, and the chief of them he knew to be the\nknight with whom he had jested in the emperor's court, for he had left\na great pair of hart's horns upon his head; and when the knight now saw\nthat he had a fit opportunity to be revenged of Faustus, he ran upon\nhim, and those that were with him, to mischief himself, intending\nprivily to slay him; which when Faustus espied, he vanished away into a\nwood that was hard by them, but when the knight perceived that he\nwas vanished away, he caused his men to stand still; but where they\nremained, they heard all manner of warlike instruments of music, as\ndrums, flutes, trumpets, and such like, and a certain troop of horsemen\nrunning towards them; then they turned another way, and were also met on\nthat side; then another way, and yet were freshly assaulted, so that\nwhich way soever they turned themselves, they were encountered, insomuch\nthat when the knight perceived that he could escape no way, but that his\nenemies lay on him which way soever he offered to fly, he took good\nheart, and ran amongst the thickest, and thought with himself better to\ndie than to live with so great infamy; therefore being at handy blows\nwith them, he demanded the cause why they should so use them? But none\nof them would give him answer, until Dr. Faustus showed himself unto the\nknight; whereupon they enclosed him round, and Dr. Faustus said unto\nhim, \"Sir, yield your weapon and yourself, otherwise it will go hard\nwith you.\"\n\nThe knight knew no other but that he was conjured with a host of men,\nwhereas indeed they were none other but devils, yielded; then Faustus\ntook away his sword, his piece, and horse, with all the rest of his\ncompanions. And farther he said unto him: \"Sir, the chiefest general of\nour army hath commanded me to deal with you, according to the law of\narms; you shall depart in peace, whither you please.\" And then he gave\nthe knight a horse, after the manner, and set him thereon, so he rode,\nthe rest went on foot, until they came to their inn where he being\nalighted, his page rode on his horse to the water, and presently the\nhorse vanished away, the page being almost sunk and drowned, but he\nescaped; and coming home, the knight perceiving the page to be bemired,\nand on foot, asked where his horse was; who answered, that he was\nvanished away. Which when the knight heard, he said, \"Of a truth this is\nFaustus his doing, for he serveth me now, as he did before at the court,\nonly to make me a scorn and laughing-stock.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LIII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus used Mephistophiles, to bring him seven of the fairest\nWomen he could find in all the Countries he had travelled the twenty\nYears._\n\n\nWhen Dr. Faustus called to mind that his time from day to day drew nigh,\nhe began to live a swinish and epicurish life. Wherefore he commanded\nhis spirit Mephistophiles to bring him seven of the fairest women that\nhe had seen in all the times of his travel; which being brought, he\nliked them so well that he continued with them in all manner of love,\nand made them to travel with him all his journeys. These women were two\nNetherland, one Hungarian, one Scottish, two Walloon, one Franklander.\nAnd with these sweet personages he continued long, yea, even to his last\nend.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LIV.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus found a Mass of Money, when he had consumed twenty-two\nof his Years._\n\n\nTo the end that the devil would make Faustus his only heir, he showed\nunto him where he should go and find a mighty huge mass of money, and\nthat he should find it in an old chapel that was fallen down, half a\nmile distance from Wittenburg. There he bade him to dig, and he should\nfind it, which he did; and having digged reasonable deep, he saw a\nmighty huge serpent, which lay on the treasure itself; the treasure\nitself lay like a huge light burning; but Dr. Faustus charmed the\nserpent, that he crept into a hole, and when he digged deeper to get up\nthe treasure, he found nothing but coals of fire. There he also saw and\nheard many that were tormented; yet notwithstanding he brought away the\ncoals, and when he was come home, it was turned into silver and gold;\nand after his death it was found by his servant, which was almost, by\nestimation, one thousand guilders.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LV.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus made the Spirit of fair Helena of Greece his own\nParamour in his twenty-third Year._\n\n\nTo the end that this miserable Faustus might fill the lust of his flesh\nand live in all manner of voluptuous pleasure, it came in his mind,\nafter he had slept his first sleep, and in the twenty-third year past\nof his time, that he had a great desire to lie with fair Helena of\nGreece, especially her whom he had seen and shown unto the students at\nWittenburg; wherefore he called his spirit Mephistophiles, commanding\nhim to bring to him the fair Helena, which he also did.\n\nWhereupon he fell in love with her, and made her his common companion,\nfor she was so beautiful and delightful that he could not be an hour\nfrom her; if he should therefore have suffered death, she had stolen\naway his heart, and to his seeming in time she had child, whom Faustus\nnamed Justus Faustus. The child told Dr. Faustus many things which were\ndone in foreign countries, but in the end, when Faustus lost his life,\nthe mother and the child vanished away both together.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LVI.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus made his Will, in which he named his Servant Wagner to\nbe his Heir._\n\n\nDr. Faustus was now in his twenty-fourth and last year, and he had\na pretty stripling to his servant, which had studied also at the\nuniversity of Wittenburg. This youth was very well acquainted with\nhis knaveries and sorceries, so that he was hated as well for his\nown knavery as also for his master's, for no man would give him\nentertainment into his service because of his unhappiness but Faustus.\nThis Wagner was so well beloved of Faustus that he used him as his son,\nfor do what he would, his master was always therewith contented.\n\nAnd then when the time drew nigh that Faustus should end, he called unto\nhim a notary and certain masters, the which were his friends and often\nconversant with him, in whose presence he gave this Wagner his house and\ngarden. Item, he gave him in ready money sixteen thousand guilders.\nItem, one farm. Item, a gold chain, much plate, and other household\nstuff, that gave he to his servant, and the rest of his time he meant to\nspend in inns and students' company, drinking and eating, with other\njollity. And thus he finished his will at that time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LVII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus fell in talk with his Servant, touching his Testament,\nand the Covenants thereof._\n\n\nNow when this will was made, Dr. Faustus called unto his servant,\nsaying, \"I have thought upon thee in my testament, for that thou hast\nbeen a trusty servant unto me, and faithful, and hast not opened my\nsecrets. And yet farther,\" said he, \"ask of me before I die what thou\nwilt, and I will give it unto thee.\"\n\nHis servant rashly answered, \"I pray you, let me have your cunning.\"\n\nTo which Dr. Faustus answered, \"I have given thee all my books, upon\nthis condition, that thou wouldst not let them be common, but use them\nfor thy own pleasure, and study carefully in them; and dost thou also\ndesire my cunning? That thou mayst peradventure have, if thou love and\nperuse my books well.\"\n\n\"Farther,\" said Dr. Faustus, \"seeing that thou desirest of me this\nrequest, I will resolve thee. My spirit Mephistophiles his time is out\nwith me, and I have nought to command him, as touching thee. Yet I will\nhelp thee to another if thou like well thereof.\"\n\nAnd within three days after he called his servant unto him, saying, \"Art\nthou resolved? wouldst thou verily have a spirit? Then tell me in what\nmanner or form thou wouldst have him.\" To whom his servant answered that\nhe would have him in the form of an ape. Whereupon appeared presently a\nspirit unto him in manner and form of an ape, the which leaped about the\nhouse.\n\nThen said Faustus, \"See, there thou hast thy request; but yet he will\nnot obey thee until I be dead, for when my spirit Mephistophiles shall\nfetch me away, then shall thy spirit be bound unto thee, if thou agree,\nand thy spirit shalt thou name Aberecock, for so he is called. But\nall this upon a condition, that you publish my cunning and my merry\nconceits, with all that I have done (when I am dead) in an history, and\nif thou canst not remember all, the spirit Aberecock will help thee; so\nshall the acts that I have done be made manifest unto the world.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LVIII.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus having but one Month of his appointed Time to come,\nfell to Mourning and Sorrowing with himself for his devilish exercise._\n\n\nTime ran away with Faustus, as the hour-glass; for he had but one month\nto come of his twenty-four years, at the end whereof he had given\nhimself to the devil, body and soul, as is before specified. Here was\nthe first token, for he was like a taken murderer, or a thief, the\nwhich finding himself guilty in conscience before the judge has given\nsentence, fears every hour to die; for he was grieved, and in wailing\nspent the time, went talking to himself, wringing of his hands, sobbing\nand sighing. His flesh fell away, and he was very lean, and kept himself\nclose; neither could he abide, see, or hear of his Mephistophiles any\nmore.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LIX.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus complained that he should in his lusty Time, and\nyouthful Years, die so miserably._\n\n\nThe sorrowful time drawing near, so troubled Dr. Faustus, that he began\nto write his mind, to the end he might peruse it often and not forget\nit, which was in manner as followeth:--\"Ah! Faustus, thou sorrowful and\nwoeful man, now must thou go to the damnable company in unquenchable\nfire, whereas thou mightest have had the joyful immortality of thy soul,\nthe which now thou hast lost! Ah! gross understanding and wilful will!\nWhat seizeth upon thy limbs, other than robbing of my life? Bewail with\nme, my sound and healthful body, will, and soul; bewail with me, my\nsenses, for you have had your part and pleasure as well as I. Oh! envy\nand disdain! How have you crept both at once upon me, and now for your\nsakes I must suffer all these torments! Ah! whither is pity and mercy\nfled? Upon what occasion hath heaven repaid me with this reward, by\nsufferance, to suffer me to perish? Wherefore was I created a man? The\npunishment I see prepared for me of myself, now must I suffer. Ah!\nmiserable wretch! There is nothing in this world to show me comfort!\nThen woe is me! What helpeth my wailing?\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LX.\n\n_How Dr. Faustus bewailed to think on Hell, and the miserable Pains\ntherein provided for him._\n\n\nNow thou Faustus, damned wretch! how happy wert thou if, as an unreasonable\nbeast, thou mightest die with a soul? so shouldest thou not feel any\nmore doubts; but now the devil will take thee away, both body and soul,\nand set thee in an unspeakable place of darkness; for although other\nsouls have rest and peace, yet I, poor damned wretch, must suffer all\nmanner of filthy stench, pains, cold, hunger, thirst, heat, freezing,\nburning, hissing, gnashing, and all the wrath and curse of God; yea,\nall the creatures God hath created are enemies to me. And too late I\nremember that my spirit Mephistophiles did once tell me there was great\ndifference amongst the damned, for the greater the sin the greater the\ntorment; as the twigs of a tree make greater flames than the trunk\nthereof, and yet the trunk continueth longer in burning, even so the\nmore that a man is rooted in sin, the greater is his punishment. Ah!\nthou perpetual damned wretch! how art thou thrown into the everlasting\nfiery lake that shall never be quenched! there must I dwell in all\nmanner of wailing, sorrow, misery, pain, torment, grief, howling,\nsighing, sobbing, running at the eyes, stinking at the nose, gnashing of\nteeth, snare to the ears, horror to the conscience, and shaking both of\nhand and foot? Ah! that I could carry the heavens upon my shoulders, so\nthat there were time at last to quit me of this everlasting damnation.\nOh! what can deliver me out of the fearful tormenting flame, the which I\nsee prepared for me? Oh! there is no help, nor can any man deliver me;\nnor my wailing of sins can help me; neither is there rest for me to be\nfound day or night! Ah! woe is me! for there is no help for me, no\nshield, no defence, no comfort; where is my help? Knowledge dare I not\ntrust; and for a soul to Godwards, that have I not, for I ashame to\nspeak unto him; if I do, no answer shall be made me; but he will hide\nhis face from me, to the end that I should not behold the joys of the\nchosen. What mean I then to complain, where no help is? No, I know no\nhope resteth in my groanings; I had desired it would be so, and God hath\nsaid, Amen, to my misdoings; for now I must have shame to comfort me in\nmy calamities.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXI.\n\n_Here followeth the Miserable and Lamentable End of Doctor Faustus, by\nwhich all Christians may take an Example and Warning._\n\n\nThe full time of Dr. Faustus, his four-and-twenty years being come, his\nspirit appeared unto him, giving him his writing again, and commanding\nhim to make preparation, for that the devil would fetch him against a\ncertain time appointed.\n\nDr. Faustus mourned and sighed wonderfully, and never went to bed, nor\nslept a wink for sorrow.\n\nWherefore his spirit appeared again, comforting him, and saying: \"My\nFaustus, be not thou so cowardly minded; for although thou lovest thy\nbody, it is long unto the day of judgment, and thou must die at the\nlast, although thou live many thousand years. The Turks, the Jews, and\nmany an unchristian emperor are in the same condemnation; therefore, my\nFaustus, be of good courage, and be not discomforted, for the devil hath\npromised that thou shalt not be in pains, as the rest of the damned\nare.\" This and such like comfort he gave him, for he told him false, and\nagainst the saying of the Holy Scriptures.\n\nYet Dr. Faustus, that had no other expectation but to pay his debt, with\nhis own skin, went (on the same day that his spirit said the devil would\nfetch him) unto his trusty and dearly beloved brethren and companions,\nas masters and bachelors of art, and other students more, the which did\noften visit him at his house in merriment; these he intreated that they\nwould walk into the village called Rimlich, half a mile from Wittenburg,\nand that they would there take with him for their repast a small\nbanquet; the which they agreed unto; so they went together, and there\nheld their dinner in a most sumptuous manner.\n\nDr. Faustus with them, dissemblingly was merry, but not from the heart;\nwherefore he requested them that they would also take part of his rude\nsupper, the which they agreed unto; \"for,\" quoth he, \"I must tell you\nwhat is the victualler's due;\" and when they slept (for drink was in\ntheir heads) then Dr. Faustus paid the shot, and bound the students and\nmasters to go with him into another room, for he had many wonderful\nmatters to tell them; and when they were entered the room, as he\nrequested, Dr. Faustus said unto them as followeth:\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXII.\n\n_An Oration of Dr. Faustus to the Students._\n\n\n\"My trusty and well-beloved friends, the cause why I have invited you in\nthis place is this: forasmuch as you have known me these many years,\nwhat manner of life I have lived; practising all manner of conjurations\nand wicked exercises, the which I obtained through the help of the\ndevil, into whose devilish fellowship they have brought me; the which\nuse, the art, and practice, urged by the detestable provocation of my\nflesh and my stiff-necked and rebellious will, with my filthy infernal\nthoughts, the which were ever before me, pricking me forward so\nearnestly that I must perforce have the consent of the devil to aid me\nin my devices. And to the end I might the better bring my purpose to\npass, to have the devil's aid and furtherance, which I never have wanted\nin my actions, I have promised unto him at the end, and accomplishment\nof twenty-four years, both body and soul, to do therewith at his\npleasure.\n\n\"This dismal day, these twenty-four years are fully expired; for night\nbeginning, my hour-glass is at an end, the direful finishing whereof I\ncarefully expect; for out of all doubt, this night he will fetch me to\nwhom I have given myself in recompense of his service, body and soul,\nand twice confirmed writings with my proper blood.\n\n\"Now have I called you, my well-beloved lords, friends and brethren,\nbefore that fatal hour, to take my friendly farewell, to the end that my\ndeparture may not hereafter be hidden from you, beseeching you herewith\n(courteous loving lords and brethren) not to take in evil part anything\ndone by me, but with friendly commendations to salute all my friends and\ncompanions wheresoever, desiring both you and them, if ever I have\ntrespassed against your minds in anything, that you would heartily\nforgive me; and as for those lewd practices, the which these full\ntwenty-four years I have followed, you shall hereafter find them in\nwriting: and I beseech you let this my lamentable end, to the residue\nof your lives, be a sufficient warning, that you have God always\nbefore your eyes, praying unto him, that he will defend you from the\ntemptation of the devil, and all his false deceits, not falling\naltogether from God, as I wretched and ungodly damned creature have\ndone; having denied and defied baptism, the sacrament of Christ's body,\nGod himself, and heavenly powers, and earthly men: yea, I have denied\nsuch a God, that desireth not to have one lost. Neither let the evil\nfellowship of wicked companions mislead you, as it hath done me: visit\nearnestly and often the church; war and strive continually against the\ndevil, with a good and steadfast belief in God and Jesus Christ, and use\nyour vocation and holiness.\n\n\"Lastly, to knit my troubled oration, this is my friendly request, that\nyou would go to rest, and let nothing trouble you: also if you chance to\nhear any noise or rumbling about the house, be not therewith afraid, for\nthere shall no evil happen unto you; also I pray you rise not out of\nyour beds; but above all things, I intreat you, if hereafter you find my\ndead carcass, convey it unto the earth, for I die both a good and bad\nChristian, though I know the devil will have my body, and that would I\nwillingly give him, so that he would leave my soul to quiet; wherefore I\npray you, that you would depart to bed, and so I wish you a quiet night,\nwhich unto me, notwithstanding, shall be horrible and fearful.\"\n\nThis oration was made by Dr. Faustus, and that with a hearty and resolute\nmind, to the end he might not discomfort them; but the students wondered\ngreatly thereat, that he was so blinded, for knavery, conjuration, and\nsuch foolish things, to give his body and soul unto the devil, for they\nloved him entirely, and never suspected any such thing, before he had\nopened his mind unto them.\n\nWherefore one of them said unto him, \"Ah! friend Faustus, what have you\ndone to conceal this matter so long from us? We would by the help of\ngood divines, and the grace of God, have brought you out of this net,\nand have torn you out of the bondage and chains of Satan, whereas we\nfear now it is too late, to the utter ruin both of body and soul.\"\n\nDr. Faustus answered, \"I durst never do it, although often minded to\nsettle myself to godly people, to desire counsel and help; and once my\nold neighbour counselled me, that I should follow his learning, and\nleave all my conjurations: yet when I was minded to amend, and to follow\nthat good counsel, then came the devil, and would have had me away, as\nthis night he is like to do: and said, so soon as I turned again to God,\nhe would dispatch me altogether. Thus, even thus (good gentlemen and\ndear friends) was I inthralled in that fanatical bond, all good desires\ndrowned, all piety vanished, all purposes of amendment truly exiled, by\nthe tyrannous oppression of my deadly enemy.\"\n\nBut when the students heard his words, they gave him counsel to do\nnothing else but call upon God, desiring him, for the love of his sweet\nSon Jesus Christ his sake, to have mercy upon him: teaching him this\nform of prayer: \"O God! be merciful unto me, poor and miserable sinner;\nand enter not into judgment with me, for no flesh is able to stand\nbefore thee; although, O Lord! I must leave my sinful body unto the\ndevil, being by him deluded, yet thou in mercy may preserve my soul.\"\n\nThis they repeated to him, yet he could take no hold; but even as Cain,\nhe also said, that his sins were greater than God was able to forgive,\nfor all his thought was on the writing: he meant he had made it too\nfilthy in writing with his own blood.\n\nThe students and the others that were there, when they had prayed for\nhim, they wept, and so went forth. But Faustus tarried in the hall; and\nwhen the gentlemen were laid in bed, none of them could sleep, for that\nthey attended to hear if they might be privy of his end.\n\nIt happened that between twelve and one o'clock of midnight, there blew\na mighty storm of wind against the house, as though it would have blown\nthe foundation thereof out of its place.\n\nHereupon the students began to fear, and go out of their beds, but they\nwould not stir out of the chamber, and the host of the house ran out of\ndoors, thinking the house would fall.\n\nThe students lay near unto the hall wherein Dr. Faustus lay, and they\nheard a mighty noise and hissing, as if the hall had been full of snakes\nand adders. With that the hall door flew open wherein Dr. Faustus was.\nThen he began to cry for help, saying, \"Murder, murder!\" but it was with\na half voice, and very hollow. Shortly after they heard him no more.\n\nBut when it was day, the students, that had taken no rest that night,\narose and went into the hall in which they left Dr. Faustus, where\nnotwithstanding they found not Faustus, but all the hall sprinkled with\nblood, the brains cleaving to the wall, for the devil had beaten him\nfrom one wall against another. In one corner lay his eyes, in another\nhis teeth, a fearful and pitiful sight to behold.\n\nThen began the students to wail and weep for him, and sought for his\nbody in many places. Lastly, they came into the yard, where they found\nhis body lying on the horse dung, most monstrously torn, and fearful to\nbehold, for his head and all his joints were dashed to pieces. The\nforenamed students and masters that were at his death, obtained so much,\nthat they buried him in the village where he was so grievously\ntormented.\n\nAfter the which they turned to Wittenburg, and coming into the house of\nFaustus they found the servant of Faustus very sad, unto whom they\nopened all the matter, who took it exceedingly heavy. There they found\nthis history of Dr. Faustus noted, and of him written, as is before\ndeclared, all save only his end, the which was after by the students\nthereunto annexed. Farther, what his servant noted thereof was made in\nanother book. And you have heard he held by him, in his life, the spirit\nof fair Helena, who had by him one son, the which he named Justus\nFaustus: even the same day of his death they vanished away, both mother\nand son. The house before was so dark that scarce anybody could abide\ntherein. The same night Dr. Faustus appeared unto his servant lively,\nand showed unto him many secret things which he had done and hidden in\nhis lifetime. Likewise there were certain which saw Dr. Faustus look out\nof the window by night as they passed by the house.\n\nAnd thus ended the whole history of Dr. Faustus, his conjuration, and\nother acts that he did in his life, out of which example every Christian\nmay learn, but chiefly the stiff-necked and high-minded, may thereby\nlearn to fear God, and to be careful of their vocation, and to be at\ndefiance with all devilish works, as God hath most precisely forbidden.\nTo the end we should not invite the devil as a guest, nor give him\nplace, as that wicked Faustus hath done, for here we have a wicked\nexample of his writing, promise, and end, that we may remember him, that\nwe may not go astray, but take God always before our eyes, to call alone\nupon him, and to honour him all the days of our life, with heart and\nhearty prayer, and with all our strength and soul to glorify his holy\nname, defying the devil and all his works; to the end we may remain with\nChrist in all endless joy. Amen, amen. That wish I to every Christian\nheart, and God's name be glorified. Amen.\n\n\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n 1: The names of four of these cities were--Ubeda, Abela, Baeza, and\n Granada.\n\n 2: There is another ballad which represents Gayferos, now grown to be a\n man, as coming in the disguise of a pilgrim to his mother's house, and\n slaying his stepfather with his own hand. The Countess is only satisfied\n as to his identity by the circumstance of _the finger_--\n\n   El dedo bien es aqueste, aqui lo vereys faltar\n   La condesa que esto oyera empezole de abracar.\n\n 3: Sansuena is the ancient name of Zaragoza.\n\n 4: The arms of Leon.\n\n 5: The arms of Castile.\n\n 6: The arms of France.\n\n 7: \"Per ecclesias proclamare fecit.\" This may either mean that a notice\n was fastened to the church door, or given out from the pulpit. The last\n is most probable.\n\n 8: As these are probably the only verses on record of the devil's\n composition (at least, so well authenticated), I transcribe them for the\n information of the curious.\n\n \"Nexus ovem binam, per spinam traxit equinam;\n  Laesus surgit equus, pendet utrumque pecus.\n  Ad molendinum, pondus portabat equinum,\n  Dispergendo focum, se cremat atque locum.\n  Custodes aberant; singula damna ferant.\"\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S NOTE\n\nContemporary spellings have been retained even where inconsistent;\nmissing punctuation has been silently added. The following additional\nchanges have been made to the text:\n\n let it brought before these Sees    let it be brought before these Sees\n\n Durenda                             Durendal\n\n Thou till shouldst prop             Thou still shouldst prop","title":"Mediaeval Tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":87095}