Gesta Romanorum

by Charles Swan

  * “This story is told by Caxton in the GOLDEN LEGENDE, under the life of Pelagian the Pope, entitled ‘Here foloweth the lyf of Saynt Pelagyen the pope, with many other hystoryes and gestys of the Lombardes, and of Machomete, with other cronycles.’ The Gesta Longobadorum are fertile in legendary matter, and furnished Jacobus de Voragine. Caxton’s original, with many marvellous histories. Caxton, from the estis of the Lombardis, gives a wonderful account of a pestilence in Italy, under the reign of king Gilbert.”—WARTON. The GOLDEN LEGENDE enters somewhat into the life of the Emperor Henry after he came to the throne. Amongst other matters, he “put out of his countree all the juglers and gave to poor people all yt was wont to be given to mynstrelles.”—Fol. ccclxii.

  TALE XXI.

  OF OVERREACHING AND CONSPIRACY, AND OF CAUTION OPPOSED TO THEM.

  JUSTIN records that the Lacedæmonians conspired against their king; and prevailing, banished him. It happened that a king of the Persians plotted the destruction of the same state, and prepared to besiege Lacedaemon with a large army. The exile, though smarting beneath the wrongs accumulated on him by his own subjects, could not but have regard for the land of his nativity. Having ascertained, therefore, the hostile designs of the Persian monarch against the Lacedæmonians, he reflected by what means he might securely forewarn them of the impending danger. Accordingly, taking up his tablets, he communicated his discovery, and explained how they might best resist and defeat their enemies.

  When he had written, he enveloped the whole in wax, and finding a trustworthy messenger, despatched him to the chiefs of the state. On inspection of the tablets, no writing could be distinguished; for the entire surface of the wax discovered not the slightest impression. This naturally gave rise to much discussion, and each delivered his opinion as to the intent and further disposal of the tablets. But the mystery none of them could unravel. Now, it chanced that a sister of the Lacedæmonian king, understanding their perplexity, requested permission to inspect them. Her desire was admitted; she commenced a minute investigation, and assisted by that peculiar shrewdness which women frequently display in emergencies, raised the wax, and a portion of the writing became manifest. She had now a clue, and proceeding in her work, gradually removed the waxen covering and exhibited the legend at full. The nobles of the council, thus pre-monished, rejoiced exceedingly; took the necessary steps, and secured themselves against the menaced siege.*

  APPLICATION.

  My beloved, the king is Christ, who is banished by human depravity from His right. Nevertheless, He so loved us, as to contrive a means of freeing us from the attacks of our enemy the devil.

  * [This story is told by Herodotus (vii. 239), and has suffered fewer mutilations than some of the other stories which are founded on history. The king who employed the device was Demaratus; so far from being “wronged” by his subjects, he was exiled for persistent misconduct, and was strongly suspected of actual treachery. Herodotus remarks that it is doubtful whether it was good-will or a feeling of malicious joy which induced him to send the information to his countrymen. Gorgo, who detected the meaning of the tablets, was not the “sister of the king,” but his wife, the king being the famous Leonidas.—ED.]

  TALE XXII.

  OF WORLDLY FEAR.

  AUGUSTINE tells us that, when the Egyptians formerly deified Isis and Serapis, they proceeded in this manner. First, they made a law that whosoever declared them to be mortal, or so much as spoke of their birth, should be put to an ignominious death. Then they erected two images; and that the aforesaid law should be strictly observed, they placed near them, in every temple dedicated to their honour, another of diminutive form, having a forefinger laid upon its lips,—to indicate that silence was indispensably required of those who entered their temples. In this way they endeavoured to repress the promulgation of truth.

  APPLICATION.

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

  TALE XXIII.

  OF SPIRITUAL MEDICINE.

  SAINT AUGUSTINE relates that an ancient custom formerly prevailed, in compliance with which emperors, after death, were laid upon a funeral pile and burnt; and their ashes deposited in a certain lofty place. But it happened that one of them died whose heart resisted the impression of fire. This circumstance created the utmost astonishment, and all the rhetoricians, and other wise men of every province, were summoned to one place. The question was then proposed to them, and they thus answered: “The emperor died by poison, and through the influence of the latent venom his heart cannot be consumed.” When this was understood, they drew the heart from the fire, and covered it with theriaque* and immediately the poison was expelled. The heart, being returned to the flames, was soon reduced to ashes.

  APPLICATION.

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

  * Theriaque is an antidote: “Tyriacum, antidotum pro thericmn, quod vulgo theriaque dicimus.”—Du Cange. See Note (4) at the end of the volume.

  TALE XXIV.

  OF THE SUGGESTIONS OF THE DEVIL.

  THERE was a celebrated magician, who had a very beautiful garden, in which grew flowers of the most fragrant smell, and fruits of the most delicious flavour. In short, nothing on earth could exceed it. But he invariably refused admittance to all except to fools, or such as were his enemies. When suffered to pass in, however, their wonder was extreme; and they straightway implored to be allowed to remain. But the magician would grant this boon to no one who did not give up his inheritance to him. The fools, of course, believing it to be Paradise, while they themselves were the chosen and happy possessors of the land, gave not another thought to the future. The consequence was that, one night, finding them asleep, the magician cut them off; and thus, through the instrumentality of a factitious Eden, perpetrated the foulest enormities. (5)

  APPLICATION.

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

  * Gay appears to have taken the idea of his 42nd Fable from the moral of this tale. “Talis ponit scutellam,” says the Latin, “et nihil ponit intus: interim fabulatur et trufat et ludificat circumstantes: postea quoerit quid est ibi; et apparent denarii. Distribuit et dat circnmstantibus. Accipiunt gratanter; et cum clauserint manus, credentes se habere denarium: postea aperientes manus nihil inveniunt.” [Such a one lays down a dish, but he puts nothing in it. In the mean time he prates, cheats, and mocks the spectators. Presently he inquires what is there? and a number of pennies appear, which he distributes to the standers-by. They receive them gratefully, close their hands, and believe that they hold them fast. By and by they open their hands and find nothing.]

  “Trick after trick deludes the train.

  He shakes his bag, and shows all fair,

  His fingers spread, and nothing there,

  Then bids it rain with showers of gold;

  And now his ivory eggs are told.

  * * * * * *

  A purse she to a thief exposed;

  At once his ready fingers closed.

  He opes his fist, the treasure’s fled,

  He sees a halter in its stead.”

  Gay’s Fables, ed. 1727.

  TALE XXV.

  OF INGRATITUDE.

  A CERTAIN noble lady suffered many injuries from a tyrannical king, who laid waste her domains. When the particulars of it were communicated to her, her tears flowed fast, and her heart was oppressed with bitterness. It happened that a pilgrim visited her, and remained there for some time. Observing the poverty to which she had been reduced, and feeling compassion for her distresses,
he offered to make war in her defence, on condition that, if he fell in battle, his staff and scrip should be retained in her private chamber, as a memorial of his valour, and of her gratitude. She faithfully promised compliance with his wishes; and the pilgrim, hastening to attack the tyrant, obtained a splendid victory. But, in the heat of the contest, he was himself mortally wounded. The lady, aware of this, did as she promised: the staff and scrip were suspended in her chamber. Now, when it was known that she had recovered all her lost possessions, three kings made large preparations to address, and, as they hoped, incline her to become the wife of one of them. The lady, forewarned of the intended honour, adorned herself with great care, and walked forth to meet them. They were received according to their dignity; and whilst they remained with her, she fell into some perplexity, and said to herself, “If these three kings enter my chamber, it will disgrace me to suffer the pilgrim’s staff and scrip to remain there.” She commanded them to be taken away; and thus forget her vows, and plainly evinced her ingratitude.

  APPLICATION.

  My beloved, the lady is the human soul, and the tyrant is the devil, who spoils us of our heavenly inheritance. The pilgrim is Christ, who fights for and redeems us; but, forgetful of His services, we receive the devil, the world, and the flesh, into the chamber of our souls, and put away the memorials of our Saviour’s love.

  TALE XXVI.

  OF HUMILITY.

  THERE was a queen who dishonoured herself with a servant, and bore him a son. This son, on arriving at years of maturity, practised every description of wickedness, and conducted himself with the greatest insolence toward the prince, his reputed father. The prince, unable to account for such perversion of mind, interrogated the mother as to the legitimacy of her child; and finding, by her reluctant confession, that he was not his son, though loth to deprive him of the kingdom, he ordained that his dress, for the time to come, should be of a different texture and colour; one side to be composed of the most ordinary materials, and the other of the most valuable: so that when he looked upon the baser portion, his pride might be abated, and the vicious propensities, in which he had indulged, relinquished; on the other hand, when he surveyed the more gorgeous part, his hopes might be raised, and his spirit animated to goodness. By this judicious device, he became remarkable for humility, and ever after abandoned his dishonest life.

  APPLICATION.

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

  TALE XXVII.

  OF JUST RECOMPENSE.

  A VERY rich and powerful emperor had an only daughter of uncommon beauty. She was consigned to the care of five soldiers, who were commanded to be constantly in arms; and every day a stated sum was paid them out of the king’s treasury. This emperor had a seneschal whom he greatly favoured; and a valuable but ferocious dog, which it was necessary to confine with triple chains, since it killed all it could seize. It happened that, as the emperor lay in bed, he formed a resolution ‘to proceed to the Holy Land; and in the morning, when he arose, sent for the seneschal, and said, “I am about to undertake an expedition to Palestine; to your vigilance I commit my only daughter, with the soldiers of her guard. The dog, likewise, which I specially value, I entrust to your care; and, on pain of instant death, let there be no deficiency in attendance upon my daughter. You shall supply the soldiers with all that they require; but observe that the dog is securely chained, and fed sparingly, so that his ferocity may abate.” The seneschal approved of all the emperor’s injunctions, and promised faithfully to comply with them; instead of which he acted in direct opposition. The dog was fed with the most unsuitable food, and not guarded as he ought to have been. He denied the necessaries of life to the lady, and robbed the soldiers of their pay, who, being needy and unemployed, roamed over the country in great distress. As for the poor girl, forsaken and destitute, she passed from her chamber into the courtyard of the hall which she occupied, and there wandered up and down in sorrow and tears. Now, the dog, whose savage nature improper aliment had augmented, burst by a sudden and violent movement from the bonds that enchained him, and tore her limb from limb. When this afflicting circumstance was known in the kingdom, it excited universal regret. When the emperor heard of his daughter’s death, he was deeply moved. The seneschal was summoned before him, and asked why the lady had been left unprovided for, the soldiers unpaid, and the dog improperly fed, contrary to his express command. But the man was unable to answer, and offered not the least excuse. The torturers, therefore, were called in; he was bound hand and and foot, and thrown into a fiery furnace. The emperor’s decree gave satisfaction to the whole empire.*

  APPLICATION.

  My beloved, the emperor is our Lord Jesus Christ; the fair daughter is the human soul; the five soldiers are the five senses; and the dog is carnal affections, which disturb and slay the spirit. The triple chain is love to God—the fear of offending Him, and shame when we have done so. The seneschal is any man to whom the care of the senses and the guardianship of the soul is committed.

  * This is the twenty-sixth chapter in Warton’s Analysis.

  TALE XXVIII.

  OF THE EXECRABLE DEVICES OF OLD WOMEN.

  IN the kingdom of a certain empress there lived a knight, who was happily espoused to a noble, chaste, and beautiful wife. It happened that he was called upon to take a long journey, and previous to his departure he said to the lady, “I leave you no guard but your own discretion; I believe it to be wholly sufficient.” He then embarked with his attendants. She meanwhile continued at her own mansion, in the daily practice of every virtue. A short period had elapsed, when the urgent entreaties of a neighbour prevailed with her to appear at a festival; where, amongst other guests, was a youth, upon whom the excellence and beauty of the lady made a deep impression. He became violently enamoured of her, and despatched various emissaries to declare his passion, and win her to approve his suit. But the virtuous lady received his advances with the utmost scorn. This untoward repulse greatly disconcerted the youth, and his health daily declined. Nevertheless he visited the lady oft, which availed him nothing; he was still despised. It chanced that on one occasion he went sorrowfully towards the church; and, upon the way, an old woman accosted him, who by pretended sanctity had long obtained an undue share of reverence and regard. She demanded the cause of the youth’s apparent uneasiness. “It will nothing profit me to tell thee,” said he. “But,” replied the old woman, “as long as the sick man hides his malady from the physician he cannot be cured: discover the wound, and it is not impossible but a remedy may be found. With the aid of Heaven I will restore you to health.” Thus urged, the youth made known to her his love for the lady. “Is that all ?” said the beldam—“return to your home, I will find a medicine that shall presently relieve you.” Confiding in her assurances, he went his way and the other hers.

  It seems she possessed a little dog, which she obliged to fast for two successive days; on the third, she made bread of the flour of mustard, and placed it before the pining animal. As soon as it had tasted the bread, the pungent bitterness caused the water to spring into its eyes, and the whole of that day tears flowed copiously from them. The old woman, accompanied by her dog, posted to the house of the lady whom the young man loved; and the opinion entertained of her sanctity secured her an honourable and gracious reception. As they sat together, the lady noticed the weeping dog, and was curious to ascertain the cause. The crone told her not to inquire, for that it involved a calamity too dreadful to communicate. Such a remark, naturally enough, excited still more the curiosity of the fair questioner, and she earnestly pressed her to detail the story. This was what the old hag wanted; she said, “That little dog was my daughter—too good and excellent for this world. She was beloved by a young man, who, thrown into despair by her cruelty, perished for her love. My daughter, as a punishment for her hard-h
earted conduct, was suddenly changed into the little dog respecting which you inquire.” Saying these words, a few crocodile tears started into her eyes; and she continued, “Alas! how often does this mute memorial recall my lost daughter, once so beautiful and virtuous: now—oh, what is she now? degraded from the state of humanity, she exists only to pine away in wretchedness, and waste her life in tears. She can receive no comfort; and they who would administer it can but weep for her distresses, which surely are without a parallel.” The lady, astonished and terrified at what she heard, secretly exclaimed—“Alas! I too am beloved; and he who loves me is in like manner at the point of death”—and then, instigated by her fears, discovered the whole circumstance to the old woman, who immediately answered ‘Beautiful lady, do not disregard the anguish of this young man: look upon my unhappy daughter, and be warned in time. As she is, you may be.” “Oh!” returned the credulous lady, “my good mother, counsel me; what would you have me do ? Not for worlds would I become as she is.” “Why, then,” answered the treacherous old woman, “send directly for the youth, and give him the love he covets.” The lady said, “May I entreat your holiness to fetch him: there might be some scandal circulated if another went.” “My dear daughter,” said she, “I suffer with you, and will presently bring him hither.” She arose and returned with him; and thus the youth obtained his mistress. And so, through the old woman’s means, the lady was led to adultery.*