by Charles Swan
“It was—is there no one within hearing?—the mighty word was ‘SAXLEM.’”
The lady, apparently quite satisfied, fell asleep; and her husband feigned it. He snored lustily, and the thief above, who had heard their conversation with much pleasure, attempting to take hold of a moon-ray and repeating the charm seven times, relaxed the hold both of hands and feet, and let himself drop through the skylight. He fell with a loud thud, and in the fall dislocated his leg and arm, and lay half dead upon the floor. The owner of the mansion, hearing the noise, and well knowing the reason, though he pretended ignorance, asked what was the matter. “Oh!” groaned the suffering thief, “the words of your tale have deceived me.” The man captured him, and had him suspended on a cross in the morning.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the thief is the devil; the house is the human heart. The man is a good prelate, and his wife is the Church.
* Something like this story is in the Directorium Humanæ Vitæ, i.e. the Latin version from the Hebrew of Pilpay. See also Le Grand, Fabl iii 288.
TALE CXXXVII.
OF CHRIST’S CLEMENCY.
IN the chronicles of Eusebius we read of an emperor who governed the Roman people with the greatest equity, sparing none, whether rich or poor; but measuring the punishment according to the extent of the crime. The factious senators, however, deposed him, and obliged him to flee in poverty from the kingdom. Immediately he fled to Constantine, and, entering into a close compact with him, on all occasions conducted himself so boldly and prudently, that he succeeded him to the sovereignty of the empire. Then assembling an army, he besieged the city of Rome; and, when the Romans were unable to escape, but were always captured by him, the people sent out to him their senators, and young men and women, with their feet bare, who prostrated themselves before him, and humbly requested the forgiveness which he refused to grant. At length they despatched his parents, who were resident in the city, alone upon this embassy. His mother wept and entreated; conjuring him by the breasts which he had sucked, to spare the place of his nativity. Unable to resist the force of natural affection, he pardoned on her account their offences. He then marched into the city, and was honourably entertained.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the emperor is Christ; the city is the human heart, from which He is expelled; Constantine is God; the senators, etc., are the prophets, and patriarchs, and apostles.
* We have here a new version of the story of Coriolanus.
TALE CXXXVIII.
OF SEVERITY, WHICH AVAILS LESS THAN KINDNESS.
A CERTAIN king, named Medrus, had an only son, whom he constituted his heir. The son was ungrateful to his father, who punished him by immediate disinherison. The son, thus circumstanced, fled to the King of the Persians, the rival and enemy of his parent. He stated that he was ready to serve him to the death; and declared himself ready to make war upon the author of his being. War was accordingly declared, and they fought together for some time with equal fortune. It happened that Medrus the king was grievously wounded, and the blood flowed very copiously. No sooner had his son perceived this, and reflected on it, then he straightway hurried to his father’s side, and attacking the troops of the Persian monarch, put them to flight. After this, of course, the compact was made void; and the son, returning to his father, meekly sought forgiveness, and obtained it. Thus, peace being established, he was again constituted his father’s heir.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the two kings are God and the devil. The son is the human soul, which Christ (who is God), by the effusion of His blood, redeemed.
TALE CXXXIX.
OF THE SOUL’S WOUNDS.
ALEXANDER the Great was lord of the whole world. He once collected a large army, and besieged a certain city, around which many knights and others were killed without any visible wound. Much surprised at this, he called together his philosophers, and said, “My masters, how is this ? My soldiers die, and there is no apparent wound!” “No wonder,” replied they; “on the walls of a city is a basilisk, (18) whose look infects your soldiers, and they die of the pestilence it creates.” “And what remedy is there for this?” said the king.
“Place a mirror in an elevated situation between the army and the wall where the basilisk is; and no sooner shall he behold it, than his own look, reflected in the mirror, will return upon himself, and kill him.” And so it was done.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, look into the glass of reflection, and, by remembrance of human frailty, destroy the vices which time elicits.
* “Œlian, in his Various History, mentions a serpent, which, appearing from the mouth of a cavern, stopped the march of Alexander’s army through a spacious desert. The wild beasts, serpents, and birds, which Alexander encountered in marching through India, were most extravagantly imagined by the oriental fabulists, and form the chief wonders of that monarch’s romance.”—WARTON.
Amongst the fabulous monsters of old romance, the GRIPPE (distinguished from the Griffin, or Gryphon) seems to be pre-eminent. In an old and vory rare French romance there is a curious description of this creature, which the reader may be pleased to see. “To give you an idea of the nature of this kind of monstrous serpent, know that its body is as strong as an enraged bull. He has a human face; but instead of a nose he has the beak of an eagle. He possesses a goose’s eyes, an ass’s ears, and the teeth of a dog. His tongue is long and venomous; with which, when he is chafed, he darts a prodigious number of fire-brands united with a smoke so fetid, that it is enough to infect a whole city. He has the legs, feet, and claws of a lion; a dragon’s tail, which is as long as a lance. His back is armed with a scale so hard, that no steel, however excellently tempered, is able to penetrate. Moreover, the shoulders are ornamented with the strong wings of a Griffin, which enable him to cleave the air even more rapidly than was possible to the cunning Dasdalus, or to the horse of Pacolet” (fol. x). The full title of the very curious and entertaining work from which the quotation is taken is as follows:—“LE PREMIER LIURE DE L’HISTOIRE ET ANCIENNE CRONIQUE DE GERARD D’ EUPHRATE, DVC DE BOURGONGUE: traitant, pour la plus part, son origine, ieunesse, amors et cheualereux faitz d’armes: auec rencontres, et auantures merueilleuses, de plusieurs Cheualiers, et grans seigneurs de son temps: Mis de nou-ueau en nostre vulgaire Francoys” PARIS, 1549. But the Colophon speaks of twelve books, and we have here the first only. It is in Sion College library.
TALE CXL.
OF EQUITY.
THE Emperor Heraclius, amongst many other virtues, was remarkable for his inflexible justice. It happened that a certain man accused a knight of the murder of another knight, in this form :—“They two went out, in company with another, to war; but no battle was fought. He, however, returned without his companion; and, therefore, we believe that he murdered him.” The king appeared satisfied with the inference, and commanded the prisoner to be executed. But as they approached the place of execution, they beheld the lost knight advancing towards them, alive and well. The judge, enraged at this interruption of the sentence, said to the accused, “I order you to be put to death, because you are already condemned.” Then turning to the accuser, “And you also, because you are the cause of his death.” “And you, too,” addressing the restored knight—“because you were sent to kill a knight, and you did not.”*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the king is God: the first two knights, body and soul. The third is any prelate.
* This is justice with a vengeance.
This story is told by Seneca of Cneius Piso, De Ira. lib. i. c. 8, and it is found in Chaucer’s Sompnour’s Tale, who mentions the same authority.
TALE CXLI.
OF GOOD ADVICE.
IN the reign of the Emperor Fulgentius, a certain knight, named Zedechias, married a very beautiful but imprudent wife. In a certain chamber of their mansion a serpent dwelt. Now, the knight’s vehement inclination for tournaments and jousting brought him to extreme poverty: he grieved immoderately,
and, like one who was desperate, walked backward and forward, ignorant of what he should do. The serpent, beholding his misery, like the ass of Balaam, was on that occasion miraculously gifted with a voice, and said to the knight, “Why do you lament? Take my advice, and you shall not repent it. Supply me every day with a certain quantity of sweet milk, and I will enrich you.” This promise exhilarated the knight, and he faithfully followed the instructions of his subtle friend. The consequence was that he had a beautiful son, and became exceedingly wealthy. But it happened that his wife one day said to him, “My lord, I am sure that serpent has great riches hidden in the chamber where he dwells. Let us till him and get possession of the whole.” The advice pleased the knight, and at the request of his wife he took a hammer to destroy the serpent, and a vessel of milk. Allured by the milk, it put its head out of the hole, as it had been accustomed; and the knight lifted the hammer to strike it. The serpent, observing his perfidy, suddenly drew back its head; and the blow fell upon the vessel. No sooner had he done this, than his offspring died, and he lost everything that he formerly possessed. The wife, taught by their common loss, said to him, “Alas! I have ill counselled you; but go now to the hole of the serpent, and humbly acknowledge your offence. Peradventure you may find grace.” The knight complied, and standing before the dwelling-place of the serpent, shed many tears, and entreated that he might once more be made rich. “I see,” answered the serpent, “I see now that you are a fool, and will always be a fool. For how can I forget that blow of the hammer which you designed me, for which reason I slew your son and took away your wealth? There can be no real peace between us.” The knight, full of sorrow, replied thus : “I promise the most unshaken fidelity, and will never meditate the slightest injury, provided I may this once obtain your grace.” “My friend,” said the serpent, “it is the nature of my species to be subtle and venomous. Let what I have said suffice. The blow offered at my head is fresh upon my recollection; get you gone before you receive an injury.” The knight departed in great affliction, saying to his wife, “Fool that I was to take thy counsel!” But ever afterwards they lived in the greatest indigence. (19)
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the king is God; the knight is Adam, who by following his wife’s advice lost Paradise. The serpent in the chamber signifies Christ retained in the human heart, by virtue of baptism.
TALE CXLII.
OF THE SNARES OF THE DEVIL.
A CERTAIN powerful king planted a forest, and surrounded it with a wall. He stocked it with various animals, in which he took infinite pleasure. It happened that one being discovered meditating traitorous designs, his property was confiscated, and himself banished the land. This person, therefore, provided various kinds of dogs and nets, and went privately into the royal forest to take and destroy the animals which it contained. The names of his dogs were Richer, Emuleym, Hanegiff, Baudyn, Crismel, Egofyn, Beamis, and Renelen.* By means of these dogs and the nets he destroyed every animal in the forest. The king was greatly enraged at this circumstance, and said to his son, “My dear son, arm yourself; call out the troops, and slay this traitor, or drive him from the kingdom.” The youth answered, “I am ready to comply with your wishes; but as I have heard that he is a man of exceeding prowess, it would be advisable to conceal myself for a certain time, in company with a beautiful girl, whose wisdom surpasses that of all others. I will converse with her, and then prepare myself for battle.” The father replied, “Go to the castle Varioch; † there you will find a girl of inimitable prudence. By her means, you may send a defiance to our enemy, and I will then promote her to many honours.” This heard, the son entered the castle secretly, and was received by the lady with great joy. He remained there some time, and then departed, armed with the power of his father, against the traitorous despoiler of the royal forest. In the end he overthrew him, cut off his head, and returned in triumph to the king’s palace.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the emperor is God; the forest the world, whose wall is the divine precepts. The traitor is any evil Christian; the dogs and nets are vices; the son is Christ; and the castle, the Virgin Mary.
* This tale seems to be of Saxon origin. Many of the names are derivable from that language, as Richer, Hanegifl, Beamis, Renelen (perhaps from Sax. RENEL, cursor), &c.
[See Oesterley, p. 264.—ED.]
† Query if from Sax. Væ?, septem or bellum, and Ioc, jugam?
[The Cologne edition, printed by Ulric Zell (1490?), omits “vade ad castrum Varioch.”—ED.]
TALE CXLIII.
OF TERROR.
A KING made a law, by which whosoever was suddenly to be put to death in the morning, before sunrise should be saluted with songs and trumpets, and, arrayed in black garments, should receive judgment. This king made a great feast, and convoked all the nobles of his kingdom, who appeared accordingly. The most skilful musicians were assembled, and there was much sweet melody.* But the sovereign was discontented and out of humour; his countenance expressed intense sorrow, and sighs and groans ascended from his heart. The courtiers were all amazed, but none had the hardihood to inquire the cause of his sadness. At last they requested the king’s brother to ask the cause of his sorrow; he made known to him the surprise of his guests, and entreated that he might understand the occasion of his grief. “Go home now,” answered the king; “tomorrow you shall know.” This was done, Early in the morning the king directed the trumpets to sound before his brother’s house, and the guards to bring him to the court. The brother, greatly alarmed at the sounding of the trumpets, arose, and put on sable vesture. When he came before the king, the latter commanded a deep pit to be dug, and a rotten chair with four decayed feet to be slightly suspended over it. In this chair he made his brother sit; above his head he caused a sword to hang, attached to a single silk thread;* and four men, each armed with an extremely sharp sword, to stand near him, one before and one behind, a third on the right hand, and the fourth on the left. When they were thus placed, the king said, “The moment I give the word, strike him to the heart.” Trumpets and all other kind of musical instruments were brought, and a table, covered with various dishes, was set before him. “My dear brother,” said the king, “what is the occasion of your sorrow? Here are the greatest delicacies—the most enrapturing harmony; why do you not rejoice ?” “How can I rejoice?” answered he. “In the morning trumpets sounded for my death; and I am now placed upon a fragile chair: if I move ever so little it will fall to pieces, and I shall fall into the pit and never come out again. If I raise my head, the weapon above will penetrate to my brain. Besides this, the four torturers around stand ready to kill me at your bidding. These things considered, were I lord of the universe, I could not rejoice.” “Now, then,” answered the king, “I will reply to your question of yesterday. I am on my throne, as you on that frail chair. For my body is its emblem, supported by four decayed feet, that is, by the four elements. The pit below me is hell; above my head is the sword of divine justice, ready to take life from my body. Before me is the sword of death, which spares none, and comes when it is not expected; behind, a sword—that is, my sins, ready to accuse me at the tribunal of God. The weapon on the right hand is the devil; and that on the left is the worms which after death shall gnaw my “body. And, considering all these circumstances, how can I rejoice? If you to-day feared me, who am mortal, how much more ought I to dread my Creator? Go, dearest brother, and be careful that you do not again ask such questions.” The brother rose from his unpleasant seat, and rendering thanks to the king for his life, firmly resolved to amend himself. All who were present commended the ingenuity of the royal answer. (20)
* “In the days of chivalry, a concert of a variety of instruments of music constantly made a part of the solemnity of a splendid feast. So in an imprinted metrical romance of Emare, MSS., Cott. Calig. A 2, fol. 72 a.
“ ‘Sir Ladore let make a feast,
That was fair and honest,
“With his lord the king;
There
was much minstrelsy,
Tromp-es, tabors, and psaltery,
Both harp and fiddl-e-ing:’
“And in Chaucer’s January and May, v. 1234:—
“‘At every course came the loud minstrelsy.’”
WARTON.
* This circumstance seems to appertain to the story of the tyrant Dionysius and his flatterers.
[For the well-known story of the “Sword of Damocles,” referred to in the above note, see Horace, Carm. iii. 1, 17 seq.—ED.]
TALE CXLIV.
OF THE ACTUAL STATE OF THE WORLD.
IN the reign of a certain king there happened a sudden and remarkable change, as from good to evil, from truth to falsehood, from strength to weakness, from justice to injustice. This mutableness excited the king’s wonder; and inquiring the cause of four of the wisest philosophers, they went, after much deliberation, to the four gates of the city, and severally inscribed thereon three causes. The first wrote—“Power is justice; therefore the land is without law. Day is night; therefore there is no pathway through the land. The warrior flees from the battle; therefore the kingdom has no honour.” The second wrote—“One is two; therefore the kingdom is without truth. The friend is an enemy; therefore the kingdom is without faith. Evil is good; therefore the kingdom is without devotion.” The third wrote—“Eeason is united with licentiousness; therefore the kingdom is without name. A thief is set on high; therefore the kingdom is without wealth. The dove would become an eagle; therefore there is no prudence in the land.” The fourth wrote—“The will is a counsellor; therefore the kingdom is ill ordered. Money gives sentence; therefore the kingdom is badly governed. God is dead; therefore the whole kingdom is full of sinners.” *
