by Charles Swan
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the knight is Christ; the wife is the soul, to which God gave free will. It is invited to the feast of carnal pleasures, where a youth—that is, the vanity of the world—becomes enamoured of it. The old woman is the devil; the dog, the hope of a long life, and the presumptuous belief of God’s clemency, which lead us to deceive and soothe the soul.
* The demon-hunter in Boccaccio is brought to mind by this story. There the lady’s apprehensions “grew so powerfully on her, that to prevent the like heavy doom from falling on her, she studied (and therein bestowed all the night season) how to change her hatred into kind love, which at length she fully obtained.”—Decameron, 5th Day, Nov. 8. The same story occurs in the 12th chapter of Alphonsus, De Clericali Disciplina. It appears in an English garb amongst a collection of Æsop’s Fables, published in 1658. Mr. Ellis, or rather Mr. Douce in his Analysis of Alphonsus (see Ancient Metrical Romances), has not noticed this translation.
[Mr. Swan thought fit to alter the termination of this story, by making the husband return suddenly and kill his wife and her lover. This, he thought, “afforded a better moral.” I have omitted his interpolation.—ED.]
TALE XXIX.
OF CORRUPT JUDGMENT.
AN emperor established a law that every judge convicted of a partial administration of justice should undergo the severest penalties. It happened that a certain judge, bribed by a large sum, gave a notoriously corrupt decision. This circumstance reaching the ears of the emperor, he commanded him to be flayed. The sentence was immediately executed, and the skin of the culprit nailed upon the seat of judgment, as an awful warning to others to avoid a similar offence. The emperor afterwards bestowed the same dignity upon the son of the deceased judge, and on presenting the appointment, said, “Thou wilt sit, to administer justice, upon the skin of thy delinquent sire: should any one incite thee to do evil, remember his fate; look down upon thy father’s skin, lest his fate befal thee.”
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the emperor is Christ; the unjust judge is any evil man, who ought to be flayed—that is, stripped of all bad dispositions and humours. The skin nailed to the seat of judgment is Christ’s passion, which is a memorial to us of what our conduct should be.
TALE XXX.
OF OFFENCE AND JUDGMENT.
A CERTAIN king determined on the occasion of some victory to appoint three especial honours, and an equal number of disagreeable accompaniments. The first of the honours was that the people should meet the conqueror with acclamations and every other testimony of pleasure. The second, that all the captives, bound hand and foot, should attend the victor’s chariot. The third honour was that, enwrapped in the tunic of Jupiter, he should sit upon a triumphal car, drawn by four white horses, and be thus brought to the capital. But lest these exalted rewards should swell the heart, and make the favourite of fortune forget his birth and mortal character, three causes of annoyance were attached to them. First, a slave sat on his right hand in the chariot—which served to hint that poverty and unmerited degradation were no bars to the subsequent attainment of the highest dignities. The second annoyance was that the slave should inflict upon him several severe blows, to abate the haughtiness which the applause of his countrymen might tend to excite—at the same time saying to him, “Nosce te ipsum “(that is, know thyself), “and permit not thy exaltation to render thee proud. Look behind thee, and remember that thou art mortal.” The third annoyance was this, that free licence was given, upon that day of triumph, to utter the most galling reproaches, and the most cutting sarcasms, against the victor while enjoying his triumph.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the emperor is our heavenly Father; and the conqueror our Lord Jesus Christ, who has obtained a glorious victory over sin. The first honour typifies His entry into Jerusalem, when the people shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David.” The second, those enslaved by sin. The third, Christ’s divinity. The four white horses are the four Evangelists. The slave is the worst of the two robbers crucified with our Lord. The second grievance is the blows He received; and the third, the indignities with which He was overwhelmed.
* Privileges of this kind were permitted to the Roman slaves, on the celebration of their Saturnalia. Horace gives us an example (Sat.ii.7, 5):—
“Age, libertate Decembri,
(Quando ita majores voluerunt) utere: narra.”
Davus spares not his master; and in all probability, many a long-treasured grudge would, on these occasions, be vented in the bitterest sarcasms.
TALE XXXI.
OF THE RIGOUR OF DEATH.
WE read that at the death of Alexander a golden sepulchre was constructed, and that a number of philosophers assembled round it. One said—“Yesterday, Alexander made a treasure of gold; and now gold makes a treasure of him.” Another observed—“Yesterday, the whole world was not enough to satiate his ambition; to-day, three or four ells of cloth are more than sufficient.” A third said—“Yesterday, Alexander commanded the people; to-day, the people command him.” Another said—“Yesterday, Alexander could enfranchise thousands ; to-day, he cannot avoid the spear of death.” Another remarked—“Yesterday, he pressed the earth; to-day, it oppresses him.” “Yesterday,” continued another, “all men feared Alexander ; to-day, men repute’ him nothing.” Another said, “Yesterday, Alexander had a multitude of friends ; to-day, not one. Another said, “Yesterday, Alexander led on an army; to-day, that army bears him to the grave.”
APPLICATION.
My beloved, any one may be called Alexander who is rich and worldly-minded; and to him may the observations of the philosopher be truly applied.
TALE XXXII.
OF GOOD INSPIRATION.
SENECA mentions that in poisoned bodies, on account of the malignancy and coldness of the poison, no worm will engender; but if the body be struck with lightning, in a few days it will be full of them.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, men are poisoned by sin, and then they produce no worm, that is, no virtue; but struck with lightning, that is, by the grace of God, they are fruitful in good works.
* Seneca’s observations are singular: “Illud æquè inter annotanda ponas licet, quòd et hominum, et cœterorum animalium quæ icta sunt, caput spectat ad exitum fulminis: quòd omnium percussarum arborum contra fulmina hastulæ surgunt. Quid, quòd malorum serpentium, et aliorum animalium, quibus mortifera vis inest, cum fulmine icta sunt, venenum omne consumitur ? Undo, inquit scis ? In venenatis corporibus vermis rum nascitur. Fulmine ictâ, intra paucos dies verminant.”— Nat. Quaast. lib. ii. 31.
TALE XXXIII.
OF HANGING.
VALERIUS tells us that a man named Paletinus one day burst into a flood of tears, and calling his son and his neighbours around him, said, “Alas! alas! I have now growing in my garden a fatal tree, on which my first poor wife hung herself, then my second, and after that my third. Have I not therefore cause for the wretchedness I exhibit?” “Truly,” said one who was called Arrius, “I marvel that you should weep at such an unusual instance of good fortune! Give me, I pray you, two or three sprigs of that gentle tree, which I will divide with my neighbours, and thereby afford every man an opportunity of indulging the laudable wishes of his spouse.” Paletinus complied with his friend’s request, and ever after found this remarkable tree the most productive part of his estate.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the tree is the cross of Christ. The man’s three wives are pride, lusts of the heart, and lusts of the eyes, which ought to be thus suspended and destroyed. He who solicited a part of the tree is any good Christian.
* This curious anecdote is recorded by Cicero, in his second book, “Be Oratore,” from whom, probably, Valerius Maximus copied it, if it be in his work. I cannot find it.
“Salsa sunt etiam, quæ habent suspicionem ridiculi absconditam; quo in genere est illud Siculi, cum familiaris quidam quereretur, quod diceret, uxorem suam suspendisse se de ficu. Amabo te, inquit, da m
ihe ex istâ arbore, quos seram, surculos.”—Lib. ii. 278.
TALE XXXIV.
OF CONSIDERATION OF LIFE.
WE read that Alexander the Great was the disciple of Aristotle, from whose instructions he derived the greatest advantage. Amongst other important matters, he inquired of his master what would profit himself, and at the same time be serviceable to others. Aristotle answered, “My son, hear with attention; and if you retain my counsel, you will arrive at the greatest honours. There are seven distinct points to be regarded. First, that you do not overcharge the balance. Secondly, that you do not feed a fire with the sword. Thirdly, gird not at the crown; nor, Fourthly, eat the heart of a little bird. Fifthly, when you have once commenced a proper undertaking, never turn from it. Sixthly, walk not in the high-road; and, Seventhly, do not allow a prating swallow to possess your eaves.” The king carefully considered the meaning of these enigmatical directions; and, observing them, experienced their utility in his subsequent life.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the balance is human life; do not overcharge it, but weigh everything accurately, and deliberate upon what you do. As in the fable of the vulture. A vulture swooping upon her prey, struck it with her talons. After it was killed, she first endeavoured to carry off the whole ; but finding this beyond her power, she tore off as much as she could fly away with, and left the remainder behind. “Do not feed a fire with the sword,”—that is, provoke not anger with sharp words. “Gird not at the crown,”—that is, respect the established laws. “Eat not the heart of a little bird,” which being weak and timid, becomes not the condition of a Christian man. “When you have commenced a befitting design, do not turn from it,”—and especially, having begun repentance, persevere to the end. A viper, wishing to espouse a kind of eel called the lamprey, was rejected by the latter, because of the poison it conveyed. The viper, determining to carry its object, retired to a secret place and cast up the venom; but after the nuptials were solemnized, went back to the place where the virus was deposited, and resumed the whole. In like manner do all sinners. They are awhile penitent, but soon return to their vomit—that is to their sins. “Walk not by the high-road,”—which is the road of death. “Permit not a prating swallow to possess your eaves,”—that is,. suffer not sin to dwell upon thy heart.
* “This, I think, is from the SECRETA SECRETORUM. Aristotle, for two reasons, was a popular character in the dark ages. He was the father of their philosophy; and had been the preceptor of Alexander the Great, one of the principal heroes of romance. Nor was Aristotle himself without his romantic history; in which he falls in love with a queen of Greece, who quickly confutes his subtlest syllogisms.”—WARTON.
TALE XXXV.
OF PEACE, REFORMATION, ETC.
IN the Roman annals we read that it was customary, when peace was established between noblemen who had been at variance, to ascend a lofty mountain, and take with them a lamb, which they sacrificed in pledge of complete reunion ; thereby intimating, that as they then poured forth the blood of the lamb, so should his blood be poured forth, who infringed the smallest article of that solemn compact.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the noblemen are God and man; and the lamb is Christ.
TALE XXXVI.
OF THE COURSE OF HUMAN LIFE.
WE are told of a certain king who, beyond all other things, wished to make himself acquainted with the nature of man. Now, in a remote part of his kingdom, there dwelt a famous philosopher, by whose great science many surprising mysteries were expounded. When the king heard of his celebrity, he despatched a messenger to him to command his immediate appearance at court. The philosopher willingly complied with the king’s wish. On his reaching the palace, the royal inquirer thus addressed him: “Master, I have heard much of your extraordinary wisdom, and profound research into natural phenomena. I would myself bear testimony to the truth of the general report. In the first place, tell me what is man ?” The philosopher answered, “Man is a wretched thing : this is his beginning, middle, and end. There is no truth so apparent; and therefore Job said, ‘Man that is born of a woman is full of miseries.’ Look upon him at his birth; he is poor and powerless. In the middle period of his life, you will find the world attacking him, narrowing his comforts, and contributing to the eternal reprobation of his soul. If you review the end, you will mark the earth opening to receive him! And then, O king! what becomes of the pomp of your regal establishment—of the pride of your worldly glory?” “Master,” said the king, “I will ask you four questions, which if you resolve well and wisely, I will elevate you to wealth and honour. My first demand is, What is man? My second, What is he like ? The third, Where is he? and the fourth, With whom is he associated?” The philosopher replied,* “At your first question, my lord, I cannot but laugh. You ask, ‘What is man ?’ Why, what is he but the slave of death—the guest of the place he dwells in—a traveller hastily journeying to a distant land! He is a slave, because he is subject to the hand of the tomb; death fetters him, sweeps off from the scene even the memorials of his name, and causes his days to drop away, like the leaves in autumn. But according to his desert will he be rewarded or punished. Again, man is the ‘guest of the place he dwells in,’ for he lingers a few short hours, and then oblivion covers him as with a garment. He is also a ‘a traveller journeying to a distant land.’ He passes on, sleepless and watchful, with scarce a moment given him to snatch the means of subsistence, and discharge the relative duties of his station. Death hurries him away. How much, therefore, are we called upon to provide every requisite for the journey—that is, the virtues which beseem and support the Christian. To your second question, ‘What is man like?’ I answer that he resembles a sheet of ice, which the heat of noon certainly and rapidly dissolves. Thus man, mixed up of gross and elementary particles, by the fervour of his own infirmities, quickly falls into corruption. Moreover, he is like an apple hanging upon its parent stem. The exterior is fair, and promises a rich maturity—but there is a worm preying silently within : ere long it drops to the earth, perforated and rotten at the core.* Whence, then, arises human pride ? The third query is, ‘Where is man ?’ I reply, in a state of multifarious war, for he has to contend against the world, the flesh, and the devil. Your fourth demand was, ‘With whom is he associated ?’ With seven troublesome companions, which continually beset and torment him. These are, hunger, thirst, heat, cold, weariness, infirmity, and death. Arm, therefore, the soul against the devil, the world, and the flesh, whose wars are divers seductive temptations. Various preparations are needful for an effectual resistance. The flesh tempts us with voluptuousness ; the world, by the gratifications of vanity; and the devil, by the suggestions of pride. If, then, the flesh tempt thee, remember that, though the day and the hour be unknown, it must soon return into its primitive dust; and, remember yet more, that eternal punishment awaits thy dereliction from virtue. So, in the second chapter of the Book of Wisdom, ‘Our body shall become dust and ashes.’ It follows that, after these passages of mortal life, oblivion shall be our portion—we and our deeds alike shall be forgotten. The recollection of this will often oppose a barrier to temptation, and prevent its clinging with fatal tenacity to the heart. If the vanity of the world allure thee, reflect upon its ingratitude, and thou wilt be little desirous of becoming bound to it. And though thou shouldst dedicate thy whole life to its service, it will permit thee to carry off nothing but thy sins. This may be exemplified by the fable of the partridge. A partridge, anxious for the safety of her young, on the approach of a sportsman, ran before him, feigning herself wounded, in order to draw him from her nest. The sportsman, crediting this appearance, eagerly followed. But she lured him on, until he had entirely lost sight of the nest, and then rapidly flew away. Thus the sportsman, deceived by the bird’s artifice, obtained only his labour for his pains.* So it is with the world. The sportsman who approaches the nest is the good Christian, who acquires food and clothing by the sweat of his brow. The world calls, and holds out the te
mptation, which his frailty cannot resist. She tells him that if he follow her, he will attain the desire of his heart. Thus he is gradually removed from works of goodness, and follows the vanities of this world. Death comes and bears on his pale steed the deceived and miserable man, since he neither has those worldly goods he sought nor the fruit of good works. See how the world rewards its votaries!† So, in the second chapter of James, “The whole world is placed in evil; is composed of the pride of life,” &c. In the third place, if the devil tempt thee, remember Christ’s sorrows and sufferings—a thought which pride cannot surely resist. “Put on,” says the apostle, “the whole armour of God, that ye may stand fast.” Solinus* tells us (speaking of the wonders of the world) that Alexander had a certain horse which he called Bucephalus. When this animal was armed, and prepared for battle, he would permit no one “but Alexander to mount; and if another attempted it, he presently threw him. But in the trappings of peace, he made no resistance, mount him who would. Thus a man, armed by the passion of our Lord, receives none into his heart but God; and if the temptations of the devil strive to sit there, they are cast violently down. Without this armour, it is open to every temptation. Let us then study to clothe ourselves with virtue, that we may at length come to the glory of God.
