Shakespeare Jest-Books Part 28

-- Mayster Vauasour,[230] sometyme a iudge of Englande, hadde a seruaunt with hym called Turpin, whiche had done hym seruyce many yeres; wherfore he came vnto his mayster on a tyme, and sayde to hym on this wyse: syr, I haue done you seruice longe; wherfore I pray you gyue me somwhat to helpe me in myn old age. Turpin, quod he, thou sayst trouthe, and hereon I haue thought many a tyme; I wyll tell the, what thou shalt do.

Nowe shortly I must ride vp to London; and, if thou wilt beare my costis thether, I wyll surely gyue the suche a thing, that shall be worth to the an hundred pounde. I am contente, quod Turpin. So all the waye as he rode Turpin payd his costis, tyll they came to theyr last lodginge: and there after souper he cam to his mayster and sayde: sir, I haue born your costes. .h.i.therto, as ye badde me; nowe, I pray you let me se, what thynge hit is, that shulde be worthe an hundred pounde to me. Dyd I promise the suche a thynge, quod his mayster? ye, forsoth, quod Turpin.

Shewe me thy wrytinge, quod maister Vauasour. I haue none, sayde Turpin.

Than thou arte lyke to haue nothinge, sayde his maister. And lerne this at me.[231] Whan sa euer thou makest a bargayne with a man, loke that thou take sure wrytynge, and be well ware howe thou makest a writynge to any man. This poynte hath vayled[232] me an hundred pounde in my dayes: and so hit may the. Whan Turpin sawe there was none other remedy, he helde him selfe contente. On the morowe Turpin taryed a lytelle behynde his mayster to reken with the hostes, where they laye, and of her he borowed so moche money on his maysters skarlet cloke, as drewe to[233]

all the costes that they spente by the waye. Mayster Vauasour had nat ryden past ii myle but that it began to rayne; wherfore he calledde for his cloke.--His other seruauntes saide, Turpin was behinde, and had hit with him. So they houedde[234] vnder a tre, tylle Turpin ouer toke them.

Whan he was come, Mayster Vauasour all angerly sayde: thou knaue, why comest thou nat aweye with my cloke? Syr, and please you, quod Turpin, I haue layde hit to gage[235] for your costes al the waye. Why, knaue, quod his mayster, diddiste thou nat promyse to beare my charges to London? Dyd I, quod Turpin? ye, quod his mayster, that thou diddest. Let se, shew me your wriytinge therof, quod Turpin; wherto his mayster, I thinke, answered but lytell.

FOOTNOTES:

[230] This old Yorkshire family produced several persons eminent in the legal profession from the time of Henry I. downward; but the one here intended was, in all probability, John Vavasour, who became Recorder of York, I Henry VII., and was made a justice of the Common Pleas in August, 1490. See Foss's _Judges of England_, v. 78, 79.

[231] Of me.

[232] _i. e._ availed, has been worth 100 to me.

-- _Of hym that sought his wyfe agaynst the streme._ lv.

-- A man the[re] was whose wyfe, as she came ouer a bridg, fell in to the ryuer and was drowned; wherfore he wente and sought for her vpward against the stream, wherat his neighboures, that wente with hym, maruayled, and sayde he dyd nought, he shulde go seke her downeward with the streme. Naye, quod he, I am sure I shall neuer fynde her that waye: for she was so waywarde and so contrary to euery thynge, while she lyuedde, that I knowe very well nowe she is deed, she wyll go a gaynste the stream.

FOOTNOTES:

[233] _i. e. came_ to, or amounted to, covered.

[234] Hovered, _i. e._ halted for shelter.

[235] Laid it in pledge.

-- _Of hym that at a skyrmyshe defended him with his feet._ lvi.

-- A l.u.s.tye yonge gentyll man of France, that on a tyme was at a skyrmysshe, and defended him selfe valyantly with his feet, came in to the courte, in to a chambre amonge ladies, with a goodly ringe vpon his fynger, to whom a fayre lady sayde: syr, why weare ye that rynge vpon your fynger? Wherfore aske you, madame, quod he? Bycause (sayde she) your feet dyd you better seruice than your handes at the last skyrmysshe that ye were at.

By this tale yonge men may lerne to beare them well and valyantly for drede of reproche. Better is it with worshyp to dye than with shame to lyue, albe hit that Demosthenes sayde: he that fleethe cometh agayne to batayle.

-- _Of hym that wolde gyue a songe for his dyner._ lvii.

-- There came a felowe on a tyme in to a tauerne, and called for meate.

So, whan he had well dyned, the tauerner came to reken and to haue his money, to whom the felowe sayde, he had no money, but I wyll, quod he, contente you with songes. Naye, quod the tauerner, I nede no songes, I must haue money. Whye, quod the felowe, if I synge a songe to your pleasure, will ye nat than be contente? yes, quod the tauerner. So he began, and songe thre or foure balades, and asked if he were pleased?

No, sayde the tauerner. Than he opened his pourse, and beganne to synge thus:

Whan you haue dyned make no delaye But paye your oste, and go your waye.

Dothe this songe please you, quod he? Yes, marye, said the tauerner, this pleaseth me well. Than, as couenant was (quod the felowe), ye be paide for your vitaile. And so he departed, and wente his waye.

This tale sheweth, that a man may be to hastye in makynge of a bargayne and couenantynge; and therfore a man ought to take good hede, what he sayth: for one worde may bynde a man to great inconuenience, if the matter be weighty.

-- _Of the foole that thought hym selfe deed._ lviii.

-- There was a felowe dwellynge at Florence, called Nigniaca, whiche was nat verye wyse, nor all a foole, but merye and iocunde. A sorte[236] of yonge men, for to laughe and pastyme, appoynted to gether to make hym beleue that he was sycke. So, whan they were agreed howe they wolde do, one of them mette hym in the mornynge, as he came out of his house, and bad him good morowe, and than asked him, if he were nat yl at ease? No, quod the foole, I ayle nothynge, I thanke G.o.d. By my faith, ye haue a sickely pale colour, quod the other, and wente his waye.

Anone after, an other of them mette hym, and asked hym if he had nat an ague: for your face and colour (quod he) sheweth that ye be very sycke.

Than the foole beganne a lyttel to doubt, whether he were sycke or no: for he halfe beleued that they sayd trouth. Whan he had gone a lytel farther, the thyrde man mette hym, and sayde: Jesu! manne, what do you out of your bed? ye loke as ye wolde nat lyue an houre to an ende. Nowe he doubted greatly, and thought verily in his mynde, that he had hadde some sharpe ague; wherfore he stode styll and wolde go no further; and, as he stode, the fourth man came and sayde: Jesu! man, what dost thou here, and arte so sycke? Gette the home to thy bedde: for I parceyue thou canste nat lyue an houre to an ende. Than the foles harte beganne to feynte,[237] and [he] prayde this laste man that came to hym to helpe hym home. Yes, quod he, I wyll do as moche for the as for myn owne brother. So home he brought hym, and layde hym in his bed, and than he fared with hym selfe, as thoughe he wolde gyue vp the gooste. Forth with came the other felowes, and saide he hadde well done to lay hym in his bedde. Anone after, came one whiche toke on hym to be a phisitian; whiche, touchynge the pulse, sayde the malady was so vehement, that he coulde nat lyue an houre. So they, standynge aboute the bedde, sayde one to an other: nowe he gothe his waye: for his speche and syght fayle him; by and by he wyll yelde vp the goste. Therfore lette vs close his eyes, and laye his hands a crosse, and cary hym forth to be buryed. And than they sayde lamentynge one to an other: O! what a losse haue we of this good felowe, our frende?

The foole laye stylle, as one [that] were deade; yea, and thought in his mynde, that he was deade in dede. So they layde hym on a bere, and caryed hym through the cite. And whan any body asked them what they caryed, they sayd the corps of Nigniaca to his graue. And euer as they went, people drew about them. Among the prece[238] ther was a tauerners boy, the whiche, whan he herde that it was the cors of Nigniaca, he said to them: O! what a vile bestly knaue, and what a stronge thefe is deed!

by the ma.s.se, he was well worthy to haue ben hanged longe ago. Whan the fole harde those wordes, he put out his heed and sayd: I wys, h.o.r.eson, if I were alyue nowe, as I am deed, I wolde proue the a false lyer to thy face. They, that caryed him, began to laugh so hartilye, that they sette downe the bere, and wente theyr waye.

By this tale ye maye se, what the perswasion of many doth. Certaynly he is very wyse, that is nat inclined to foly, if he be stered therevnto by a mult.i.tude. Yet sapience is founde in fewe persones: and they be lyghtly[239] olde sobre men.[240]

FOOTNOTES:

[236] Knot, party.

[237] To grow faint.

[238] Crowd.

[239] Usually. See Nares, edit. 1839, _in voce_.

[240] This story is to be found in Poggius, who calls it _Mortuus Loquens_, and from Poggius it was transferred by Grazzini to his collection of Tales, not published till after his death.

-- _Of the olde man and his sonne that brought his a.s.se to the towne to sylle._ lix.

-- An olde man on a tyme and a lyttell boye his sonne droue a litel a.s.se before them, whiche he purposed to sylle at the markette towne, that they went to. And bicause he so dyd, the folkes that wrought by the way syde, blamed hym; wherfore he set vp his sonne, and went hym selfe on fote. Other, that sawe that, called hym foole, by cause he lette the yonge boye ryde, and he, beynge so aged, to goo a foote. Than he toke downe the boye, and lepte vp and rode hym selfe. Whanne he hadde rydden a lyttell waye, he harde other that blamed hym, bycause he made the lyttell yonge boye ronne after as a seruaunte, and he his father to ryde. Than he sette vppe the boye behynde hym, and so rode forthe.

Anone he mette with other, that asked hym if the a.s.se were his owne, by whiche wordes he coniected, that he did nat wel so to ouercharge the lyttell sely a.s.se, that vnethe[241] was able to beare one. Thus he, troubled with their dyuers and manyfolde opinions; whiche, neither with his a.s.se vacant, nor he alone, nor his sonne alone, nor bothe to gether rydyng at ones on the a.s.se, coulde pa.s.se forth with out detraction and blame. Wherfore at last he bounde the a.s.se[s] feet to gether, and put through a staffe; and so he and his sonne began to beare the a.s.se betwene them on their shulders to the towne. The noueltie of whiche syght caused euery body to laughe and blame the folysshenes of them both. The sely olde man was so sore agreued that, as he sat and rested hym on a ryuers syde, he threwe his a.s.se in to the water; and so whan he had drowned his a.s.se he tourned home agayne. Thus the good man, desyrynge to please euerye bodye, contentynge none at all, loste his a.s.se.

By this tale appereth playnelye, that they, whiche commyt them selfe to the opinion of the common people, ben oppressed with great myserye and seruage: for how is it possible to please all, whan euerye man hath a dyuers opinion, and dyuerslye iudgeth and that was well knowen to the poet, whan he sayde:

_Scinditur incertum studia in contraria vulgus._