Part 42
CHAP. LXXVII.--In the castle of an emperor was a fountain, the water of which had the property of curing drunkenness. To this vice, which the emperor particularly detested, one of his knights, named Ydronicus, was much addicted; but whenever he perceived the consequences of his intemperance, he repaired to the fountain, and drinking a hearty draught, recovered himself in such a manner that the emperor, who was extremely attached to him, had never yet discovered his failing. It happened that the emperor had found a bird in his forest which sang so sweetly, that, being fond of melody, he repaired daily to the spot to hear it. The particular attention which the emperor bestowed on these two favourites had excited the envy of his courtiers, among whom one wiser than the rest at length undertook their ruin. He first sealed up the fountain, so that when Ydronicus next became intoxicated he was deprived of his usual remedy; and the emperor, perceiving his condition, was filled with indignation, and instantly decreed his banishment. The insidious courtier then repaired to the forest; and watching attentively the motions of the bird, perceived that her mate often came to visit her, but that in his absence she committed infidelities with strange birds, and then bathing herself in an adjacent well, deceived her mate on his return. He therefore closed up the well, and the unfaithful bird being soon detected by her mate, he tore her to pieces. The latter part of this story seems borrowed from the last chapter of the original _Gesta_.
CHAP. LXXVIII.--A law was made at Rome, that no man should marry for beauty, but for riches only; and that no woman should be united to a poor man, unless he should by some means acquire wealth equal to her own. A certain poor knight solicited the hand of a rich lady, but she reminded him of the law, and desired him to use the best means of complying with it, in order to effect their union. He departed in great sorrow, and after much inquiry, was informed of a rich duke who had been blind from the day of his birth. Him he resolved to murder, and obtain his wealth; but found that he was protected in the day-time by several armed domestics, and at night by the vigilance of a faithful dog. He contrived however to kill the dog with an arrow, and immediately afterwards the master, with whose money he returned to the lady. He informed her that he had accomplished his purpose; and being interrogated how this had been done in so short a space of time, he related all that had happened. The lady desired, before the marriage should take place, that he would go to the spot where the duke was buried, lay himself on his tomb, listen to what he might hear, and then report it to her. The knight armed himself, and went accordingly. In the middle of the night he heard a voice saying, "O duke, that liest here, what asketh thou that I can do for thee?" The answer was, "O Jesus, thou upright judge, all that I require is vengeance for my blood unjustly spilt." The voice rejoined, "Thirty years from this time thy wish shall be fulfilled." The knight, extremely terrified, returned with the news to the lady. She reflected that thirty years were a long period, and resolved on the marriage. During the whole of the above time the parties remained in perfect happiness.
When the thirty years were nearly elapsed, the knight built a very strong castle, and over one of the gates, in a conspicuous place, caused the following verses to be written:
"In my distress, religion's aid I sought; But my distress reliev'd, I held it nought. The wolf was sick, a lamb he seem'd to be; But health restor'd, the wolf again we see."
Interrogated as to the meaning of these enigmatical lines, the knight at once explained them by relating his own story, and added that in eight days time the thirty years would expire. He invited all his friends to a feast at that period; and when the day was arrived, the guests placed at table, and the minstrels attuning their instruments of music, a beautiful bird flew in at the window and began to sing with uncommon sweetness. The knight listened attentively, and said, "I fear this bird prognosticates misfortune." He then took his bow, and shot an arrow into it in the presence of all the company. Instantly the castle divided in two parts, and, with the knight, his wife, and all who were in it, was precipitated to the lowest depth of the infernal regions. The story adds, that on the spot where the castle stood, there is now a spacious lake, on which no substance whatever floats, but is immediately plunged to the bottom.
CHAP. LXXIX.--The emperor Miremius had an only son, on whose birth the wise men being consulted as to his future destiny, declared that he would not live except he were brought up for seven years under ground, where the light of the sun could never come. This was accordingly done; and at the expiration of the time the young prince was taken out of his subterraneous confinement, and became the admiration of all men for his virtues and good disposition. In due time he was married to a daughter of the king of Hungary. At each corner of the nuptial bed was placed a little dog to watch, and near it a burning lamp, which by the emperor's special command was to be lighted only by the hands of a pure virgin. The prince coming one night into the chamber found the lamp extinguished, and made a solemn vow that he would never more enter the bed until the lamp were rekindled; but after many inquiries no virgin could be found for the purpose. The prince determined to make search himself, and taking affectionate leave of his wife, proceeded on his expedition. He presently overtook a lion, whose foot had been wounded by a thorn, which he extracted, and the animal followed him. Arriving at the castle of a king who had a virgin daughter, the prince fell in love with and demanded her in marriage. The king consented, on condition that he would destroy a horrible dragon, who had nearly devoured all the sheep and oxen in the country, and for whose future supply it would soon be necessary to draw lots in the king's own family. The prince agreed to the proposal, and waited till the period arrived when the lot had fallen on the king's daughter. He then became exceedingly terrified, but ventured to attack the dragon, who was on the point of destroying him, when the lion came to his assistance, and speedily killed his adversary. The virgin was delivered to the prince, who took her home to his wife. The lamp was rekindled, to the great joy of the parties, and the virgin treated with all possible kindness and attention. The dog and the lamp in this story are introduced in chap. i. of the other _Gesta_, but the tales have nothing else in common.
CHAP. LXXX.--There was a law at Rome, that every woman at her purification should write some words on the church door, for the edification of the people, and then return home with due solemnity. The empress on this occasion writes, "I am a king governing the age; all the world is mine." Some time afterwards a noble lady attended by several musicians comes to be purified. She inscribes on the door, "I am an infant at the breast whose milk is wine," and returns home to prepare a feast. The empress is much offended, and sends for her. She procures two serpents, and compels the lady to suckle them, &c. The substance of this story is incorporated with the old ballad of "A warning piece to England, or the fall of queen Eleanor."[140]
CHAP. LXXXI.--A city is infested with dragons and other venomous animals that destroy the inhabitants. A philosopher advises the emperor to hang a live lion on a cross, and thus terrify the other creatures from molesting the city.
CHAP. LXXXII.--A law was made, that if any one could escape from prison and fly to the king's palace he should receive protection. An imprisoned knight is visited by a bird, who leaves a precious stone, by the touch of which his fetters are loosed and he escapes, &c.
CHAP. LXXXIV.--A dispute arose between the three sons of an emperor respecting the succession. The nobles decided that they should run a race on horseback, and that he whose horse neighed should inherit the throne. A cunning servant of one of the princes contrived that his master should win, by placing in the horse's way a mare that he remembered. This is the well-known story of Darius.
CHAP. XC.--Of a law that whoever violated a virgin without making atonement to her father within a certain time should suffer death.
CHAP. XCII.--Of a madman who tore his flesh every day, and was poisoned by his father.
CHAP. XCIII.--An empress falls in love with a young knight; and becoming extremely sick, the physicians inform her husband that there is no mode of cure, but the bathing her with the knight's blood.
CHAP. XCIV.--A poor man is promoted by an emperor to great honours, but soon becomes proud, and rebels against his sovereign. He is banished with his accomplices. These invite their successors to a poisoned banquet. The emperor is recommended by his son to apply to a damsel who possesses a well with miraculous powers. By means of its water the dead men are restored to life. The prince is rewarded with a crown of gold.
CHAP. XCVII.--Jonathas, having contrived to keep fire and water in his house, at a time when his fellow citizens had been plundered of them by a tyrant named Eulopius, is rewarded by having the education of the emperor of Rome's son committed to him. He builds a chamber for the young prince, and causes various images and inscriptions to be placed in it, which keep him attentive to his charge. He is finally promoted to great honour.
CHAP. XCVIII.--The emperor Martin had brought up his nephew Fulgentius as his page and cup-bearer; but his steward soon became envious of the young man, and resolved to effect his ruin. For this purpose he prevailed on the emperor to believe that Fulgentius had ungratefully circulated many ill reports of him, and particularly that he was leprous to such a degree that it was unsafe to approach his person or administer his drink to him. He then went to the young man, related to him that the emperor had made great complaint of the foulness of his breath, and advised him, when he performed the duties of his office, to take special care to turn his head aside. The innocent Fulgentius pursued this insidious counsel, and, the emperor's anger being excited, he struck his nephew violently on the breast, and drove him from his presence. He then consulted with the steward how he should deprive the youth of life; and it was settled that some men who lived near at hand, and kept a furnace to burn stones for cement, should immediately be directed to throw into their fire, without the least ceremony, that person who should come early on the morrow, and desire them to fulfil the emperor's commands. Measures were then taken that Fulgentius should be the victim; but in his progress to the lime-kiln he was induced by the sound of a church bell to deviate from his road, and attend the celebration of the mass. During the service he fell asleep, and when it was finished no efforts of the priest could for a very considerable time awake him. In the meanwhile the steward, solicitous to hear of the young man's death, repaired to the spot, and inquiring if the emperor's commands had been executed, was seized by the workmen, who, in spite of all his entreaties and remonstrances, threw him into the furnace. Fulgentius himself soon afterwards arrived, delivered his message, and was surprised to hear of the steward's death, and the miraculous manner in which he himself had escaped. He then returned thanks to God for his preservation, and went back to the palace. The emperor in great anger demanded why he had not executed his commands. Fulgentius related what had happened, and this leading to a mutual explanation, he was restored to his uncle's favour, and ended his days honourably. This story may have come from the East.[141] It is likewise extremely well related in the _Contes devots_ or _Miracles of the Virgin_,[142] and in other places.[143]
CHAP. XCIX.--A marriage was proposed between the son of Anselmus, emperor of Rome, and the daughter of the king of Apulia. The young lady in her voyage was shipwrecked and swallowed by a whale. In this situation she contrived to make a fire and to wound the animal with a knife, so that he was driven towards the shore, and slain by an earl named Pirius, who delivered the princess and took her under his protection. On relating her story she was conveyed to the emperor. In order to prove whether she was worthy to receive the hand of his son, he placed before her three vessels. The first was of gold, and filled with dead men's bones; on it was this inscription; _who chuses me shall find what he deserves_. The second was of silver filled with earth, and thus inscribed; _who chuses me shall find what nature covets_. The third vessel was of lead, but filled with precious stones. It had this inscription; _who chuses me shall find what God hath placed_. The emperor then commanded her to chuse one of the vessels, informing her that if she made choice of that which should profit herself and others, she would obtain his son; if of what should profit neither herself nor others, she would lose him. The princess after praying to God for assistance, preferred the leaden vessel. The emperor informed her that she had chosen as he wished, and immediately united her with his son. This is obviously the story which had supplied the caskets in the _Merchant of Venice_. See the note at the end of that play, p. 169.
CHAP. C.--A king hunting in a forest loses his attendants, and is left alone. He meets a lame lion, who stretches out his foot to him, as if soliciting assistance. The king, perceiving a thorn, extracts it, and binds up the wound with certain herbs. Finding no way out of the wood, he is obliged to take shelter in the lion's den, where he is supplied with food by the grateful animal. After remaining here some time a bear comes to the den. The rest of the story will not admit of being told. What has been stated is evidently grafted on the well-known tale of Androcles.
CHAP. CI.--A certain emperor made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, leaving the care of the kingdom in his absence to his wife, a wise and beautiful woman. The emperor's brother not only oppressed and persecuted many of his subjects, but had even the temerity to make unlawful love to the empress. On consulting with her counsellors, they advised her to cast him into prison, which was accordingly done. Here he lay until rumours were spread of the emperor's intended return; and fearing that if his unworthy conduct were reported to his brother he should be sentenced to die, he entreated mercy of the empress, and made such solemn promises of future good behaviour that she consented to release him. On the emperor's arrival, his wife and brother went out to meet him; but in passing through a forest, a stag springing up, diverted the attention of the domestics who accompanied them, and they were left entirely by themselves. The wicked brother now renewed his solicitations to the empress; but receiving from her the most positive refusal of compliance, and menaced with the vengeance of her husband, he inhumanly tied her by the hair to a tree, leaving her palfrey by the side of her. He then rejoined the attendants, and pretended that a multitude of armed men had attacked him and carried off the empress. Shortly afterwards the unfortunate lady was discovered by an earl who was hunting in the forest, taken home to his castle, and by her own consent appointed to superintend the care of his infant daughter. Here a certain seneschal fell in love with her, but his addresses being rejected, he determined on speedy revenge. For this purpose he contrived to get into the castle at night, and proceeding to the earl's chamber, found the empress in bed and asleep with the child. After murdering the infant, he placed the bloody knife in the empress's hand. During the night the earl's wife awoke, and perceiving by the light of the lamp what had happened, accused the empress of the murder in the most bitter terms, and entreated her husband to inflict immediate punishment. The earl, however, thought fit to spare the empress's life, and contented himself with dismissing her from his castle. The poor lady mounted her palfrey, and had not proceeded far, when she met a robber going to execution. Her compassion led her to ransom the man by means of a sum of money; and, depending on his gratitude, she sent him before her to the next city to provide lodging and other necessaries. All the inhabitants of the place admired her beauty, and many persons in vain solicited her love. It happened that a ship arrived in the harbour of this city laden with merchandize, and the empress despatched her servant to the captain, requesting him to attend her for the purpose of negociating for the articles she might want. The captain came, received her orders, and promised to send the goods; but he was also captivated with the beauty of the empress, and desired her servant to follow him. He then offered the man a large reward to assist him in getting his mistress on board the vessel, that he might thus have her in his power, and carry her away. The fellow consented; and, telling his lady that the captain would only permit his merchandize to be examined on board the ship, prevailed on her to accompany him thither, and she immediately became a prisoner. The vessel sailed, the commander earnestly pressed his unlawful solicitations, and threatened death in case of refusal. The empress requested a short respite, and addressed her prayers to heaven for assistance. A tempest instantly arose, the ship sunk to the bottom, and all perished except the empress and the captain. Each of them had clung to a piece of timber, but they were cast on different shores; and the empress, without her knowledge, on that of her own country. Here she soon found shelter in a convent, and applying herself to the study of healing the sick, soon became so skilful that her fame spread throughout the land. About this time the emperor's wicked brother had become a loathsome leper; the earl whose daughter had been killed was blind and paralytic; the treacherous servant became lame and gouty, and otherwise diseased; and the master of the ship had lost his reason. When the emperor heard of the lady's skill in curing diseases, he accompanied his brother to the convent, where the others had also come to be healed. The empress, preserving her disguise, informed them that she had no power of relieving them unless they previously, and in the presence of each other, made a fall and solemn confession of their sins, and repented of them sincerely. This was accordingly done; and when the innocence of the empress was clearly manifested, to the great and mutual surprise of all the parties, she first performed her promise to the sick, and then discovered herself to the emperor. He conducted her to the palace with much joy, and they finished their days happily.
Occleve has related this story in verse from the present work,[144] and it is also to be found in the _PatraƱas_ of Timoneda.[145] The outline has been borrowed from one of the _Contes devots_, or miracles of the Virgin Mary.[146] The incident of the bloody knife occurs likewise in Chaucer's _Man of law's tale_, and in a story related by Gower.[147]
The author of this _Gesta_ has been nowhere recorded; but it may be necessary on this occasion to lay before the reader part of a note prefixed to the Merchant of Venice, in which Dr. Farmer has corrected one mistake, but inadvertently fallen into another. He says, "In a MS. of _Lidgate_, I find a _tale of two marchants of Egipt_ and of _Baldad, ex Gestis Romanorum_. _Leland_ therefore could not be the original author _as Bishop Tanner suspected_. He lived a century after Lidgate." The inference is perfectly just; but the suspicion was not Bishop Tanner's, who has only retailed that of another writer, Richard Robinson, and he in reality seems to have regarded Leland merely as a _translator_, as will presently appear.[148] Dr. Farmer had been deceived by the mode of printing Robinson's words, which have much the appearance of belonging to the bishop. There would have been more probability in a conjecture that either Walleis or Bromyard might have been the fabricator of the _English Gesta_. The moralizations to Ovid's metamorphoses, which the former of these persons composed, adapt him extremely well to the purpose; but though the date of his existence is, on the whole, uncertain, he seems to have lived about half a century too early, viz. towards the beginning of the fourteenth century.[149] From what has already been said of Bromyard, it will appear that he was no less qualified than the other for the authorship of the work in question.
TRANSLATION.--As this work was not circulated in foreign countries, no translation of it appears to have been made in any other language than the English; and in that, not of the whole. There is a very fine manuscript in the Harleian collection, written in the reign of Henry the Sixth, containing seventy stories only.[150] In this manuscript are several pieces by Lydgate, and some tales from Gower's _Confessio amantis_. As the _English Gesta_ appears to have been extremely well known to both these writers, and also to Occleve, it is by no means improbable that the above translation was made by one or the other of them. Whether it has ever been _printed_ is another question. Mr. Warton has twice mentioned an addition without date by Wynkyn de Worde;[151] and Dr. Farmer has also, in a note prefixed to the Merchant of Venice, referred to the same edition. It had escaped the researches of the industrious Herbert, who has only mentioned it after Mr. Warton,[152] and has in vain been sought for on the present occasion. The fortunate possessor of it may have the means of ascertaining whether it be the same as the above manuscript, by referring to the stories that have been given in the present volume at the end of the remarks on the plays of King Lear, and the Merchant of Venice.