Mediaeval Tales Part 18

In the morning early this Anselm remembered his vision, and wondered much what it might signify; wherefore he called to him his philosophers, and all the states of the empire, and told them his dream, charging them to tell him the signification thereof on pain of death, and if they told him the true interpretation thereof, he promised them good reward.

Then said they, "Dear lord, tell us your dream, and we shall declare to you what it betokens." Then the emperor told them from the beginning to the ending, as is aforesaid. When the philosophers heard this, with glad cheer they answered, and said, "Sir, the vision that you saw betokeneth good, for the empire shall be clearer than it is.

"The moon that is more pale on the one side than on the other, betokeneth the empress, that hath lost part of her colour, through the conception of a son that she hath conceived. The little bird betokeneth the son that she shall bare. The two beasts that fed this bird betoken the wise and rich men of the empire which shall obey the son. These other beasts that bowed their b.r.e.a.s.t.s to the bird betoken many other nations that shall do him homage. The bird that sang so sweetly to this little bird betokeneth the Romans, who shall rejoice and sing because of his birth.

This is the very interpretation of your dream."

When the emperor heard this, he was right joyful. Soon after that, the empress travailed in childbirth, and was delivered of a fair son, at whose birth there was great and wonderful joy made.

When the king of Ampluy heard this, he thought in himself thus: "Lo, I have warred against the emperor all the days of my life, and now he hath a son who, when he cometh to full age, will revenge the wrong I have done against his father; therefore it is better that I send to the emperor and beseech him of truce and peace, that the son may have nothing against me when he cometh to manhood." When he had thus said to himself, he wrote to the emperor, beseeching him to have peace. When the emperor saw that the king of Ampluy wrote to him more for fear than for love, he wrote again to him, that if he would find good and sufficient sureties to keep the peace, and bind himself all the days of his life to do him service and homage, he would receive him to peace.

When the king had read the tenor of the emperor's letter, he called his council, praying them to give him counsel how he best might do, as touching this matter. Then said they, "It is good that ye obey the emperor's will and commandment in all things. For first, in that he desired of you surety for the peace; to this we answer thus: Ye have but one daughter, and the emperor one son, wherefore let a marriage be made between them, and that may be a perpetual covenant of peace. Also he asketh homage and tribute, which it is good to fulfil." Then the king sent his messengers to the emperor, saying, that he would fulfil his desire in all things, if it might please his highness that his son and the king's daughter might be married together. All this well pleased the emperor, yet he sent again, saying, "If his daughter were a pure maid from her birth unto that day, he would consent to that marriage." Then was the king right glad, for his daughter was a pure maid.

Therefore, when the letters of covenant and compact were sealed, the king furnished a fair ship, wherein he might send his daughter, with many n.o.ble knights, ladies, and great riches, unto the emperor, for to have his son in marriage.

And when they were sailing in the sea, towards Rome, a storm arose so extremely and so horribly that the ship brake against a rock, and they were all drowned save only the young lady, which fixed her hope and heart so greatly on G.o.d, that she was saved, and about three of the clock the tempest ceased, and the lady drove forth over the waves in that broken ship which was cast up again. But a huge whale followed after, ready to devour both the ship and her. Wherefore this young lady, when night came, smote fire with a stone, wherewith the ship was greatly lightened, and then the whale durst not adventure toward the ship for fear of that light. At the c.o.c.k-crowing, this young lady was so weary of the great tempest and trouble of sea, that she slept, and within a little while after the fire ceased, and the whale came and devoured the virgin. And when she awaked and found herself swallowed up in the whale's belly, she smote fire, and with a knife wounded the whale in many places, and when the whale felt himself wounded, according to his nature he began to swim to land.

There was dwelling at that time in a country near by a n.o.ble earl named Pirris, who for his recreation walking on the sea-sh.o.r.e, saw the whale coming towards the land; wherefore he turned home again, and gathered a great many of men and women, and came thither again, and fought with the whale, and wounded him very sore, and as they smote, the maiden that was in his belly cried with a high voice, and said: "O gentle friends, have mercy and compa.s.sion on me, for I am a king's daughter, and a true maid from the hour of my birth unto this day." When the earl heard this he wondered greatly, and opened the side of the whale, and found the young lady, and took her out. And when she was thus delivered, she told him forthwith whose daughter she was, and how she had lost all her goods in the sea, and how she should have been married unto the emperor's son.

And when the earl heard this, he was very glad, and comforted her the more, and kept her with him till she was well refreshed. And in the meantime he sent messengers to the emperor, letting him to know how the king's daughter was saved.

Then was the emperor right glad of her safety, and coming, had great compa.s.sion on her, saying, "Ah, good maiden, for the love of my son thou hast suffered much woe; nevertheless, if thou be worthy to be his wife, soon shall I prove." And when he had thus said, he caused three vessels to be brought forth. The first was made of pure gold, well beset with precious stones without, and within full of dead men's bones, and thereupon was engraven this posie: "WHOSO CHOOSETH ME, SHALL FIND THAT HE DESERVETH." The second vessel was made of fine silver, filled with earth and worms, the superscription was thus: "WHOSO CHOOSETH ME, SHALL FIND THAT HIS NATURE DESIRETH." The third vessel was made of lead, full within of precious stones, and thereupon was insculpt this posie: "WHOSO CHOOSETH ME, SHALL FIND THAT G.o.d HATH DISPOSED FOR HIM." These three vessels the emperor showed the maiden, and said: "Lo, here daughter, these be rich vessels. If thou choose one of these, wherein is profit to thee and to others, then shalt thou have my son. And if thou choose that wherein is no profit to thee, nor to any other, soothly thou shalt not marry him."

When the maiden heard this, she lift up her hands to G.o.d, and said, "Thou Lord, that knowest all things, grant me grace this hour so to choose, that I may receive the emperor's son." And with that she beheld the first vessel of gold, which was engraven royally, and read the superscription, "_Whoso chooseth me, shall find that he deserveth_;"

saying thus, "Though this vessel be full precious, and made of pure gold, nevertheless I know not what is within, therefore, my dear lord, this vessel will I not choose."

And then she beheld the second vessel, that was of pure silver, and read the superscription, "_Whoso chooseth me, shall find that his nature desireth._" Thinking thus within herself, "If I choose this vessel, what is within I know not, but well I know, there shall I find that nature desireth, and my nature desireth the l.u.s.t of the flesh, and therefore this vessel will I not choose."

When she had seen these two vessels, and had given an answer as touching them, she beheld the third vessel of lead, and read the superscription, "_Whoso chooseth me, shall find that G.o.d hath disposed._" Thinking within herself, "This vessel is not very rich, nor outwardly precious, yet the superscription saith, "_Whoso chooseth me, shall find that G.o.d hath disposed_;" and without doubt G.o.d never disposeth any harm, therefore, by the leave of G.o.d, this vessel will I choose."

When the emperor heard this, he said, "O fair maiden, open thy vessel, for it is full of precious stones, and see if thou hast well chosen or no." And when this young lady had opened it, she found it full of fine gold and precious stones, as the emperor had told her before. Then said the emperor, "Daughter, because thou hast well chosen, thou shalt marry my son." And then he appointed the wedding-day; and they were married with great solemnity, and with much honour continued to their lives'

end.

V.--THE THREE CAKES.

A certain carpenter, in a city near the sea, very covetous, and very wicked, collected a large sum of money, and placed it in the trunk of a tree, which he set by his fire-side, and never lost sight of. A place like this, he thought, no one could suspect: but it happened, that while all his household slept, the sea overflowed its boundaries, broke down that side of the building where the log was placed, and carried it away.

It floated many miles, and reached, at length, a city in which there lived a person who kept open house. Arising early in the morning, he perceived the trunk of a tree in the water, and thinking it would be of use to him, he brought it home. He was a liberal, kind-hearted man; and a great benefactor to the poor. It one day chanced that he entertained some pilgrims in his house; and the weather being extremely cold, he cut up the log for firewood. When he had struck two or three blows with the axe, he heard a rattling sound; and cleaving it in twain, the gold pieces rolled out and about. Greatly rejoiced at the discovery, he put them by in a safe place, until he should ascertain who was the owner.

Now the carpenter, bitterly lamenting the loss of his money, travelled from place to place in pursuit of it. He came, by accident, to the house of the hospitable man who had found the trunk. He failed not to mention the object of his search; and the host, understanding that the money was his, reflected whether his t.i.tle to it were good. "I will prove," said he to himself, "if G.o.d will that the money should be returned to him."

Accordingly, he made three cakes, the first of which he filled with earth; the second with the bones of dead men; and in the third he put a quant.i.ty of the gold which he had discovered in the trunk.

"Friend," said he, addressing the carpenter, "we will eat three cakes made of the best meat in my house. Choose which you will have."

The carpenter did as he was directed; he took the cakes and weighed them in his hand, one after another, and finding that with the earth weigh heaviest, he chose it. "And if I want more, my worthy host," added he, "I will have that"--laying his hand upon the cake containing the bones.

"You may keep the third cake yourself."

"I see clearly," murmured the host, "I see very clearly that G.o.d does not will the money to be restored to this wretched man." Calling therefore the poor and the infirm, the blind and the lame, he opened the cake of gold in the presence of the carpenter, to whom he spoke, "Thou miserable varlet; this is thine own gold. But thou preferredst the cake of earth, and dead men's bones. I am persuaded, therefore, that G.o.d wills not that I return thee thy money." Without delay, he distributed it all amongst the poor, and drove the carpenter away.

VI.--THE HERMIT.

There once lived a hermit, who in a remote cave pa.s.sed day and night in G.o.d's service. Not far from his cell there was a flock kept by a shepherd, who one day fell into a deep sleep, when a robber, seeing him careless, carried off his sheep. When the keeper awoke, he began to swear in good set terms that he had lost his sheep; and where they were gone to he knew not. But the lord of the flock bade him be put to death.

This gave to the hermit great offence. "O heaven," said he to himself, "seest thou this deed? The innocent suffers for the guilty: why permittest thou such things? If thus injustice triumph, why do I remain here? I will again enter the world, and do as other men do."

And so he left his hermitage, and went again into the world; but G.o.d willed not that he should be lost: an angel in the form of a man was sent to join him. And so, crossing the hermit's path, he said to him, "Whither bound, my friend?" "I go," said he, "to yonder city." "I will go with you," replied the angel; "I am a messenger from heaven, come to be your companion on the way."

So they walked on together to the city. When they had entered, they begged for the love of G.o.d harbourage during the night, at the house of a certain soldier, who received them cheerfully and entertained them n.o.bly. The soldier had an only and most dear son lying in the cradle.

After supper, their bed-chamber was sumptuously adorned for them; and the angel and the hermit went to rest. But about the middle of the night the angel rose, and strangled the sleeping infant. The hermit, horror-struck at what he witnessed, said within himself, "Never can this be an angel of G.o.d. The good soldier gave us everything that was necessary; he had but this poor innocent, and he is strangled." Yet he was afraid to reprove him.

In the morning both arose and went forward to another city, in which they were honourably entertained at the house of one of the inhabitants.

This person had a rich gold cup, which he highly valued; and of which, during the night, the angel robbed him. But still the hermit held his peace, for great was his fear.

On the morrow they went forward; and as they walked they came to a certain river, over which was a bridge. They went on the bridge, and about midway a poor pilgrim met them. "My friend," said the angel to him, "show us the way to yonder city." The pilgrim turned, and pointed with his finger to the road they were to take; but as he turned the angel seized him by the shoulders, and hurled him into the stream below.

At this the terror of the hermit became greater. "It is the devil," he said to himself; "it is the devil, and no good angel! What evil had the poor man done that he should be drowned?"

He would now have gladly gone alone; but was afraid to speak his mind.

About the hour of vespers they came to a city, in which they again sought shelter for the night; but the master of the house where they applied sharply refused it. "For the love of heaven," said the angel, "give us shelter, lest we fall prey to the wolves." The man pointed to a sty. "That," said he, "has pigs in it; if it please you to lie there you may, but to no other place will I admit you." "If we can do no better,"

said the angel, "we must accept your ungracious offer." They did so; and next morning the angel calling their host, said, "My friend, I give you this cup;" and he gave him the gold cup he had stolen. The hermit, more and more amazed at what he saw, said to himself, "Now I am sure this is the devil. The good man who received us with all kindness he despoiled, and now he gives the plunder to this fellow who refused us a lodging."

Turning therefore to the angel, he cried, "I will travel with you no more. I commend you to G.o.d." "Dear friend," the angel said, "first hear me, and then go thy way."

THE EXPLANATION.

"When thou wert in thy hermitage, the owner of the flock unjustly put to death his servant. True it is he died innocently, and therefore was in a fit state to enter another world. G.o.d permitted him to be slain, foreseeing, that if he lived he would commit a sin, and die before repentance followed. But the guilty man who stole the sheep will suffer eternally; while the owner of the flock will repair, by alms and good works, that which he ignorantly committed. As for the son of the hospitable soldier whom I strangled in the cradle, know, that before the boy was born he performed numerous works of charity and mercy; but afterwards grew parsimonious and covetous in order to enrich the child, of which he was inordinately fond. This was the cause of its death; and now its distressed parent is again become a devout Christian. Then for the cup which I purloined from him who received us so kindly, know, that before the cup was made, there was not a more abstemious person in the world; but afterwards he took such pleasure in it, and drank from it so often, that he was intoxicated twice or thrice during the day. I took away the cup, and he has returned to his former sobriety. Again I cast the pilgrim into the river; and know that he whom I drowned was a good Christian, but had he proceeded much further, he would have fallen into a mortal sin. Now he is saved, and reigns in celestial glory. Then, that I bestowed the cup upon the inhospitable citizen, know nothing is done without reason. He suffered us to occupy the swine-house and I gave him a valuable consideration. But _he_ will hereafter reign in h.e.l.l. Put a guard, therefore, on thy lips, and detract not from the Almighty. For He knoweth all things."

The hermit, hearing this, fell at the feet of the angel and entreated pardon. He returned to his hermitage, and became a good and pious Christian.

VII.--THE LOST FOOT.

A certain tyrannical and cruel knight retained in his service a very faithful servant. One day, when he had been to the market, he returned with this servant through a grove; and by the way lost thirty silver marks. As soon as he discovered the loss, he questioned his servant about it. The man solemnly denied all knowledge of the matter, and he spoke truth. But when the money was not to be found, he cut off the servant's foot, and leaving him in that place, rode home. A hermit, hearing the groans and cries of the man, went speedily to his help. He confessed him; and being satisfied of his innocence, conveyed him upon his shoulders to his hermitage.

Then entering the oratory, he dared to reproach the All-just with want of justice, inasmuch as he had permitted an innocent man to lose his foot.

For a length of time he continued in tears, and prayers, and reproaches; until at last an angel of the Lord appeared to him, and said, "Hast thou not read in the Psalms, 'G.o.d is a just judge, strong and patient?'"

"Often," answered the hermit meekly, "have I read and believed it from my heart; but to-day I have erred. That wretched man, whose foot has been cut off, perhaps under the veil of confession deceived me."

"Tax not the Lord with injustice," said the angel; "His way is truth, and His judgments equitable. Recollect how often thou hast read, 'The decrees of G.o.d are unfathomable.' Know that he who lost his foot, lost it for a former crime. With the same foot he maliciously spurned his mother, and cast her from a chariot--for which eternal condemnation overtook him. The knight, his master, was desirous of purchasing a war-horse, to collect more wealth, to the destruction of his soul; and therefore, by the just sentence of G.o.d, the money which he had provided for the purchase was lost. Now hear; there is a very poor man with his wife and little ones, who daily supplicate heaven, and perform every religious exercise. He found the money, when otherwise he would have starved, and therewith procured for himself and family the necessaries of life, entrusting a portion to his confessor to distribute to the poor. But first he diligently endeavoured to find out the right owner.

Not accomplishing this, the poor man applied it to its proper use. Place then a bridle upon thy thoughts; and no more upbraid the righteous Disposer of all things, as thou but lately didst. For he is just, and strong, and patient."