by Charles Swan
“At these words all the beys, and other persons that attended the king, burst out into laughter. ‘It must be confessed (said one of them), that this abdal knows some maxims that are very new.’ ‘He was not in the wrong (said another) to get paid beforehand.’ The king, seeing that they all laughed at the dervise, said,’ You have no reason to laugh at the good advice this abdal has given me: though no man is ignorant, that, when we form any enterprise, we ought to meditate well upon it, and consider maturely what event it may produce. Nevertheless, for want of observing this rule, we engage every day in affairs of ill consequence. For my part, I value very much the dervise’s advice. I will always bear it in my mind, and command it to be written in letters of gold on every door of my palace, on the walls, and on the goods; and that it be engraved on all my plate;’ which was done accordingly.
“In a short time after this, a great lord of the court, urged on by ambition rather than any cause he had to complain of that prince, resolved to deprive him both of his crown and life. To this end, he found means to get a poisoned lancet, and applying himself to the king’s surgeon, said to him, ‘If thou wilt bleed the king with this lancet, here are ten thousand crowns in gold, which I give thee as a present. As soon as thou hast done the business, the throne is mine. I have already projected the means to mount it; and I promise thee, that, when I am king, I will make thee my grand vizier, and that thou shalt partake with me in the sovereign power.’ The surgeon, blinded with the advantage of the proposal the great man had made him, accepted of it without the least hesitation. He received the ten thousand crowns in hand, and put the lancet in his turban, to use it when there should be an opportunity.
“An opportunity soon offered itself. The king wanted to be bled, and the surgeon was sent for. He came, and began to bind up the king’s arm, while they placed a bason to receive the blood. The surgeon took the fatal lancet out of his turban, and was just going to open the vein, when accidentally casting his eye on the bason, he read these words that were engraved upon it: Never begin any tlmnj till you Jiave first reflected tohat will be the end of it He instantly fell into a deep study, and said within himself,’ If I bleed the king with this lancet, he is a dead man. If he die, I shall certainly be seized, and put to death amidst dreadful torments. When I am dead, what will the crowns of gold that I have received avail me ?’ Struck with these reflections, he put the poisoned lancet into his turban, and took another out of his pocket. The king, perceiving it, asked him why he changed his lancet. ‘Sir (answered the surgeon), because the point of the first was not good.’ ‘Show it me (said the prince); I will see it.’ Then the surgeon was almost struck dumb with fear, and seemed in great confusion. The king cried out, ‘What means this concern thou art in ? It conceals some mystery; tell me the reason of it, or thou diest this moment.’ The surgeon, intimidated by these threats, threw himself at the king’s feet, and said, ‘Sír if your majesty will grant me your pardon, I will confess the truth.’ ‘I do pardon thee (replied the king), provided thou hidest nothing from me.’ Then the surgeon told him all that had passed between the great lord and himself, and confessed that the king owed his life to the words that were engraved on the bason.
“The king gave orders instantly to his guards to go and seize the great lord; and then, turning towards his beys, said to them,’ Are you still of opinion that you had reason to laugh at the dervise ? Let him be found, and brought to me. An advice that saves the life of kings, whatever it costs, cannot be bought too dear.’”
NOTE 10, Page 186.
“Spencer, in the ‘FAERIE QUEENE,’ seems to have distantly remembered this fable, where a fiend, expecting Sir Guyon will be tempted to snatch some of the treasures of the subterraneous HOUSE of KICHESSEJ which are displayed in his viewj is prepared to fasten upon him.
“Thereat the fiend his gnashing teeth did grate,
And grieved so long to lack his greedy prey;
For well he weened that so glorious bait
Would tempt his guest to take thereof assay:
Had he so done, he had him snatched away
More light than culver in the falcon’s fist.
B. ii. C. viii. 34.
“This story was originally invented of Pope Gerbert, or Sylvester the Second, who died in the year 1003. He was eminently learned in the mathematical sciences, and on that account was styled a magician. William of Malmesbury is, I believe, the first writer now extant by whom it is recorded; and he produces it partly to show that Gerbert was not always successful in those attempts which he so frequently practised to discover treasures hid in the earth, by the application of romantic arts. I will translate Malraesbury’s narration of this fable, as it varies in some of the circumstances, and has some heightenings of the fiction.
“‘At Rome there was a brazen statue, extending the forefingers of the right hand; and on its forehead was written, Strike here. Being suspected to conceal a treasure, it had received many bruises from the credulous and ignorant in their endeavours to open it. At length Gerbert unriddled the mystery. At noonday, observing the reflection of the forefinger on the ground, he marked the spot. At night he came to the place, with a page carrying a lamp. There, by a magical operation, he opened a wide passage in the earth; through which they both descended, and came to a vast palace. The walls, the beams, and the whole structure, were of gold: they saw golden images of knights playing at chess, with a king and queen of gold at a banquet, with numerous attendants in gold, and cups of immense size and value. In a recess was a carbuncle, whose lustre illuminated the whole palace; opposite to which stood a figure with a bended bow. As they attempted to touch some of the rich furniture, all the golden images seemed to rush upon them. Gerbert was too wise to attempt this a second time : but the page was bold enough to snatch from the table a golden knife of exquisite workmanship. At that moment all the golden images rose up with a dreadful noise; the figure with the bow shot at the carbuncle; and a total darkness ensued. The page then replaced the knife, otherwise they both would have suffered a cruel death.’
“Malmesbury afterwards mentions a brazen bridge, framed by the enchantments of Gerbert, beyond which were. golden horses of gigantic size, with riders of gold, richly illuminated by the most serene meridian sun. A large company attempt to pass the bridge, with a design of stealing some pieces of the gold. Immediately the bridge rose from its foundations, and stood perpendicular on one end: a brazen man appeared from beneath it, who struck the water with a mace of brass, and the sky was overspread with the most horrible gloom. Gerbert, like some other necromancers of the Gothic ages, was supposed to have fabricated a brazen head under the influence of certain planets, which answered questions. But I forbear to suggest any more hints for a future collection of Arabian tales. I shall only add Malmesbury’s account of the education of Gerbert, which is a curious illustration of what has often been inculcated in these volumes, concerning the introduction of romantic fiction into Europe.
“‘Gerbert, a native of France, went into Spain for the purpose of learning astrology, and other sciences of that cast, of the Saracens; who, to this day, occupy the upper regions of Spain. They are seated in the metropolis of Seville; where, according to the customary practice of their country, they study the arts of divination and enchantment. Here Gerbert soon exceeded Ptolemy in the astrolabe, Alchind in astronomy, and Tulius Firmicus in fatality. Here he learned the meaning of the flight and language of birds, and was taught how to raise spectres from hell. Here he acquired whatever human curiosity has discovered, for the destruction or convenience of mankind. I say nothing of his knowledge in arithmetic, music, and geometry, which he so fully understood, as to think them beneath his genius, and which he yet, with great industry, introduced into France, where they had been long forgotten. He certainly was the first who brought the algorithm from the Saracens, and who illustrated it with such rules as the most studious in that science cannot explain. He lodged with a philosopher of that sect.’”—WARTON.
NOTE 11. Page
190.
A similar story is in the Decameron, “The king conducted him then into the great hall, where (as he had before given order) stood two great chests fast locked, and in the presence of all his lords, the king thus spake: ‘Signior Kogiero, in one of these chests is mine imperial crown, the sceptre royal, the mound, and many more of my richest girdles, rings, “plate, and jewels, even the very best that are mine: the other is full of earth only. Chuse one of these two, and which thou makest election of, upon my royal word thou shalt enjoy it.’”—Tenth Day, Novel I.
In Gower’s Confessio Amantis it again occurs, fol. 96:—
“Anon he let two coffers make,
Of one semblance, of one make;
* * * * * *
His own hands that one chest
Of fine gold, and of fine perie,1
The which out of his treasury
Was take, anon he filled full:
That other coffer of straw and mull,2
With stones mened3 he filled also,
Thus be they full both two.”
As in the other stories, the courtiers chuse the wrong casket; and
“Thus was the wise king excused,
And they left off their evil speech,
And mercy of the king beseech.”
It may also be found in the LXV. Nov. of the Cento Novelte Antiche.
“The story, however, as it stands in Gower, seems to be copied from one which is told by the hermit Barlaam to King Avenamore, in the spiritual romance, written originally in Greek, about the year 800, by Joannes Damascenus, a Greek monk, and entitled, BARLAAM AND JOSAPHAT, But Gower’s immediate author, if not Boccace,4 was perhaps Vincent of Beauvais, who wrote about the year 1290, and who has incorporated Damascenus’s history of Barlaam and Josaphat, who were canonised, into his SPECULUM HISTORIALE. As Barlaam’s fable, is probably the remote, but original source, of Shakspeare’s CASKETS, in the MERCHANT OF VENICE,5 I will give the reader a translation of the passage in which it occurs, from the Greek original, never yet printed:—
“‘The king commanded four chests to be made: two of which were covered with gold, and secured by golden locks, but filled with rotten bones of human oarcasses. The other two were overlaid with pitch, and bound with rough cords; but replenished with the most precious stones and exquisite gems, and with ointments of the richest odour. He called his nobles together, and placing these chests before them, asked which they thought the most valuable. They pronounced those with the golden coverings to be the most precious, supposing they were made to contain the crowns and girdles of the king. The two chests covered with pitch they viewed with contempt. Then said the king, I presumed what would be your determination: for ye look with the eyes of sense. But to discern baseness or value which are hid within, we must look with the eyes of the mind. He then ordered the golden chests to be opened, which exhaled an intolerable stench, and filled the beholders with horror.’1
“In the METRICAL LIVES OF THE SAINTS, written about the year 1300, these chests are called four fates, that is, four vats or vessels.”— WARTON.
The historian goes on to observe that the romantic legend of Barlaam and Josaphat contains strong traces of oriental composition; and that it possibly originated with the monk whose name it bears, or, at least, with “some devout and learned ascetic of the Greek Church, and probably before the tenth century.”
NOTE 12. Page 191.
There is a surprising similarity in the marvellous conversion here spoken of, to that which is on record relative to Colonel Gardiner:—
“This memorable event happened towards the middle of July, 1719; but I cannot be exact as to the day. The major had spent the evening (and, if I mistake not, it was the Sabbath) in some gay company, and had an unhappy assignation with a married woman, of what rank or quality I did not particularly inquire, whom he was to attend exactly at twelve. The company broke up about eleven; and not judging it convenient to anticipate the time appointed, he went into his chamber to kill the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book, or some other way. But it very accidentally happened that he took up a religious book, which his good mother or aunt had, without his knowledge, slipped into his portmanteau. It was called, if I remember the title exactly, The Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm; and was written by Mr. Thomas Watson. Guessing by the title of it that he should find some phrases of his own profession spiritualized in a manner which he thought might afford him some diversion, he resolved to dip into it; but he took no serious notice of anything he read in it: and yet, while this book was in his hand, an impression was made upon his mind (perhaps God only knows how), which drew after it a train of the most important and happy consequences.
“There is indeed a possibility that, while he was sitting in this attitude, and reading in this careless and profane manner, he might suddenly fall asleep, and only dream of what he apprehended he saw. But nothing can be more certain than that, when he gave me this relation, he judged himself to have been as broad awake during the whole time as he ever was in any part of his life; and he mentioned it to me several times afterwards as what undoubtedly passed, not only in his imagination, but before his eyes.
“He thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall on the book while he was reading, which he at first imagined might happen by some accident in the candle. But lifting up his eyes, he apprehended, to his extreme amazement, that there was before him, as it were, suspended in the air, a visible representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded on all sides with a glory; and was impressed as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice, had come to him, to this effect (for he was not confident as to the very words), ‘Oh, sinner! did I suffer this for thee, and are these the returns ? ’ But whether this were an audible voice, or only a strong impression on his mind equally striking, he did not seem very confident; though, to the best of my remembrance, he rather judged it to be the former. Struck with so amazing a phenomenon as this, there remained hardly any life in him; so that he sunk down in the armchair in which he sat, and continued, he knew not exactly how long, insensible (which was one circumstance that made me several times take the liberty to suggest that he might possibly be all this while asleep). But however that were, he quickly after opened his eyes, and saw nothing more than usual.
“It may easily be supposed he was in no condition to make any observation upon the time in which he had remained in an insensible state; nor did he, throughout all the remainder of the night, once recollect that criminal and detestable assignation which had before engrossed all his thoughts. He rose in a tumult of passions not to be conceived, and walked to and fro in his chamber, till he was ready to drop down, in unutterable astonishment and agony of heart, appearing to himself the vilest monster in the creation of God, who had all his lifetime been crucifying Christ afresh by his sins, and now saw, as he assuredly believed, by a miraculous vision, the horror of what he had done. With this was connected such a view both of the majesty and goodness of God, as caused him to loathe and abhor himself, and to jrepent as in dust and ashes. He immediately gave judgment against himself, that he was most justly worthy of eternal damnation. He was astonished that he had not been immediately struck dead in the midst of his wickedness; and (which I think deserves particular remark) though he assuredly believed that he should ere long be in hell, and settled it as a point with himself for several months, that the wisdom and justice of God did almost necessarily require that such an enormous sinner should be made an example of everlasting vengeance, and a spectacle as such both to angels and men, so that he hardly durst presume to pray for pardon; yet what he then suffered was not so much from the fear of hell, though he concluded it would soon be his portion, as from a sense of that horrible ingratitude he had shown to the God of his life, and to that blessed Redeemer who had been in so affecting a manner set forth as crucified before him,”—DODDRIDGE, Life of Col. Gardiner, p. 45, et seq.
NOTE 13. Page 193.
“Rubor Ægyptus,”—this I take to be the
leprosy; which the following account from Pliny’s Natural History seems to confirm :—
“This disease also began, for the most part, in the face, and namely it took the nose, where it put forth a little specke, or pimple, no bigger than a small lentill; but soone after, as it spread farther, and ran over the whole bodie, a man should perceive the skin to be painted and spotted with divers and sundrie colours, and the same uneven, bearing out higher in one place than another, thicke here but thin there, and hard every where; rough also, like as if a scurfe or scab over-ran it, untill, in the end, it would grow to be blackish, bearing downe the flesh flat to the bones, whiles the fingers of the hands, and toes of the feet, were puffed up and swelled againe. A peculiar malady is this, and natural to the Ægyptians; but looke when any of their kings fell into it, woe worth the subjects and poore people, for there were the tubs and bathing vessels wherein they sate in the baine,1 filled with men’s blood for their cure.”—P. H. T. lib. xxvi. c. 2.
The leprosy was of different kinds, and that peculiar to the Egyptians might, perhaps, wear a red appearance.
NOTE 14. Page 194.
The romance of “Sir Isumbras” in many respects corresponds with this story, and particularly with the striking incident detailed below :—
“The knight, afflicted by Heaven in consequence of bis sins, was met by a part of his household, who, with many tears, informed him that his horses and oxen had been suddenly struck dead with lightning, and that his capons were all stung to death with adders. He received the tidings with humble resignation, commanded his servants to abstain from murmurs against Providence, and passed on. He was next met by a page, who related that his castle was burned to the ground; that many of his servants had lost their lives; and that his wife and children had with great difficulty escaped from the flames. Sir Isumbras, rejoiced that Heaven had yet spared those who were most dear to him, bestowed upon the astonished page his purse of gold as a reward for the intelligence.
