by Charles Swan
This, as the reader will be aware, is the story of Lear in Shakspeare; but there were many popular tales built upon the same story.
CHAPTER XXV.
There was a powerful emperor called Andronicus, before whom a knight was wrongfully accused. When the charge could not be substantiated, his majesty proposed to him certain puzzling questions, which were to be accurately answered, under pain of death. The knight expressed himself ready to do his best. Then said the emperor, How far is heaven distant from hell ? That is the first question. As far, replied he, as a sigh is from the heart.
Emperor. And how deep is the sea ?
Knight. A stone’s throw.
Emperor. How many flaggons of salt water are there in the sea ?
Knight. Give me the number of flaggons of fresh water, and I will tell you.
* * * * * * * * *
Emperor. To the first question you answered, that the distance between heaven and hell, was as great as between a sigh and the heart. How can this be ?
Knight. A sigh passes from the heart with the rapidity of a glance; and in like manner the soul goes from the body into a state of punishment or happiness.
Emperor. How is the depth of the sea a stone’s throw ?
Knight. All weight descends; and because a stone is heavy it drops to the bottom of the sea at once. Its depth is therefore a stone’s throw.
Emperor. And how, if you knew the number of flaggons of fresh water, could you estimate the number of salt ? This seems impossible.
Knight. Be good enough to try it. Begin the reckoning yourself.
* * * * * * * * *
The emperor, pleased with the knight’s shrewdness, bids him go in peace.—MS. Copy of the GEST. ROM.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Bononius was emperor of Borne, &c., &c.
This is the same story as Tale CXXXII. of the original Gesta. Overpassed by Mr. Douce.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Antonius governed the city of Rome with great wisdom. He was exceedingly fond of the game of chess; and observing, on one occasion, that when the men were replaced in his bag as usual, the king was confounded with the inferior pieces, it led him to reflections upon the vanity of human greatness. He thereupon determines to make a triple division of his kingdom, and hasten to the Holy Land. He did so, and died in peace.
CHAPTER XXX.
The emperor Averrhoes, &c, &c.
This is the story of the knight Placidus, in Tale CX. of the original Gesta, with some variations. This also Mr. Douce has omitted to observe.
CHAPTER XXXI.
The following tale, together with Mr. Douce’s remarks, I extract, verbatim, from the second volume of the Illustrations of Shakespeare. It happened in Rome, under the reign of one Plebens, according to the MS. It should be premised that the first part of the story resembles Tale LXIX.
“A law was made at Rome that the sentinels of the city should each night examine what was passing in all the houses, so that no private murders should be committed, nor anything done whereby the city should be endangered. It happened that an old knight named Josias had married a young and beautiful woman who, by the sweetness of her singing, attracted many persons to his house, several of whom came for the purpose of making love to her. Among these were three young men who were high in the emperor’s favour. They respectively agreed with the woman for a private assignation, for which she was to receive twenty marks. She discloses the matter to her husband, but not choosing to give up the money, prevails on him to consent to the murder of the gallants, and the robbing of their persons. This is accomplished, and the bodies deposited in a cellar. The woman, mindful of the new law that had been made, sends for one of the sentinels, who was her brother, pretends that her husband had killed a man in a quarrel, and prevails on him, for a reward, to dispose of the dead body. She then delivers to him the first of the young men, whom he put into a sack, and throws into the sea. On his return to the sister, she pretends to go into the cellar to draw wine, and cries out for help. When the sentinel comes to her, she tells him that the dead man is returned. At this, he of course expresses much surprise, but putting the second body into his sack, ties a stone round its neck and plunges it into the sea. Returning once more, the woman, with additional arts, plays the same part again. Again he is deceived, and taking away the third body, carries it into a forest, makes a fire, and consumes it. During this operation he has occasion to retire, and in the mean time a knight on horseback, who was going to a tournament, passes by, and alights to warm himself at the fire. On the other’s return, the knight is mistaken for the dead man, and with many bitter words thrown into the fire, horse and all.1 The sentinel goes back to his sister, and receives the stipulated reward. A hue and cry had now been made after the young men who were missing. The husband and wife engage in a quarrel, and the murder is of course discovered.
“This story has been immediately taken from The Seven Wise Masters, where it forms the example of the sixth master. The groundwork is, no doubt, oriental, and may be found, perhaps in its most ancient form, in The little hunchbacked taylor of The Arabian Nights. It was imported into Europe very early, and fell into the hands of the lively and entertaining French minstrels, who have treated it in various ways, as may be seen in Le Grand, Fableaux et Contes, tom, iv., where it is related five times. The several imitations of it from The Seven Wise Masters may be found in all the editions of Prince Erastus, an Italian modification1 of the Wise Masters, It forms the substance of a well-constructed and entertaining story of two friars, John and Richard, who are said to have resided at Norwich, in the reign of Henry the Fifth. This is related in Hey wood’s History of Women, under the title of The faire ladie of Norwich,2 and has crept into Blomefield’s History of Norfolk in a very extraordinary manner, unaccompanied with any comment, but with the addition of the murderer’s name, who is unaccountably stated to be Sir Thomas Erpingham, a well-known character.3 In the Bodleian library there is an old English poem entitled, A merry jest of Dane Hew, munch of Leicestre, and how he was foure times slain, and once hanged. Printed at London, by J. Alde, in 4to, without date. This is probably the same story, which has certainly been borrowed from one of those related by the Norman minstrels.”
CHAPTER XXXII.
For this chapter I am also indebted to the Illustrations, &c.
“Folliculus, a knight, was fond of hunting and tournaments. He had an only son, for whom three nurses were provided. Next to this child he loved his falcon and his greyhound. It happened one day that he was called to a tournament, whither his wife and domestics went also, leaving the child in the cradle, the greyhound lying by him, and the falcon on his perch. A serpent that inhabited a hole near the castle, taking advantage of the profound silence that reigned, crept from his habitation and advanced towards the cradle to devour the child. The falcon, perceiving the danger, fluttered with his wings till he awoke the dog, who instantly attacked the invader, and after a fierce conflict, in which he was sorely wounded, killed him. He then lay down on the ground to lick and heal his wounds. When the nurses returned they found the cradle overturned, the child thrown out, and the ground covered with blood, as well as the dog, who, they immediately concluded, had killed the child. Terrified at the idea of meeting the anger of the parents, they determined to escape, but in their flight fell in with their mistress, to whom they were compelled to relate the supposed murder of the child by the greyhound. The knight soon arrived to hear the sad story, and, maddened with fury, rushed forward to the spot. The poor wounded and faithful animal made an effort to rise, and welcome his master with his accustomed fondness; but the enraged knight received him on the point of his sword, and he fell lifeless to the ground. On examination of the cradle the infant was found alive and unhurt, and the dead serpent lying by him. The knight now perceived what had happened, lamented bitterly over his faithful dog, and blamed himself for having depended too hastily on the words of his wife. Abandoning the profession of arms, he broke his lance in three pieces, and vowed a pilg
rimage to the Holy Land, where he spent the rest of his days in peace.
“This tale is likewise borrowed by the compiler of the Gesta, from The Seven Wise Masters, and of oriental construction. It is originally in Pilpay’s Fables, being that of The Santon and the broken Pitcher.
“There is a very extraordinary tradition in North Wales, of an incident resembling that in our story having happened to Prince Llewellyn about the year 1205. He is said to have erected a tomb over his faithful dog, still known in Carnarvonshire by the name of Celhart’s Grave.1 This tradition is the subject of an elegant ballad by the honourable Mr. Spencer, privately printed, in a single sheet? under the title of Beth Gêlcrt, or the Grave of the Greyhound. At Abergavenny Priory Church there is said to be the figure of an armed knight with a dog at his feet; and with this person, whoever he was, the story of Celhart has also been connected. But the dog, as well as other animals, is frequently found at the feet of figures on old monuments. On the whole, the subject appears not undeserving of the consideration of Welsh Antiquaries. It would be proper, however, on any such occasion, to bear in mind the numerous applications of circumstances altogether fabulous to real persons; one example of which has occurred in the story from the Gesta that immediately precedes the present.
“It may be thought worth adding, that Virgil’s original Gnat resembled in its outline, as given by Donatus, the story in the Gesta. A shepherd there falls asleep in a marshy spot of ground; a serpent approaches, and is about to kill him. At this moment a gnat settles on the shepherd’s face, stings, and awakens him. He instinctively applies his hand to the wounded part, and crushes the gnat. He soon perceives that he had destroyed his benefactor, and, as the only recompense in his power, erects a tomb to his memory.”
CHAPTER XLVI.
“Some time ago in Rome there dwelt a noble emperor, of great livelihood, named Alexander, which, above all vertues loved the vertue of bounty; wherefore he ordained a law for great charity, that no man under pain of death should turn a plaice in his dish at his meat, but only eat the white side, and not the black; and if any man would attempt to do the contrary, he should suffer death without any pardon: but yet ere he dyed, he should ask three petitions of the emperor what him list (except his life) which should be granted to him.
“It befel after, upon a day, that there became an earl and his son, of a strange country, to speak with the emperor; and when the earl was set at meat, he was served with a plaice, and he which was an hungry and had an appetite to his meat, after he had eaten the white side, he turned the black side, and began to eat thereof: wherefore, straightway he was accused to the emperor, because he had offended against the law. Then said the emperor, Let him dye according to the law without any delay.
“When the earl’s son heard that his father should die, immediately he fell down on both his knees before the emperor, and said, O my reverend lord, I most humbly intreat you, that I may dye for my father. Then said the emperor, It pleaseth me well so that one dye for the offence. Then said the earl’s son, Sith it is so that I must dye, I ask the benefit of the law, that is, that I may have three petitions granted ere I dye. The emperor answered and said, Ask what thou wilt, there shall no man say thee nay.
“Then said this young knight, My lord, you have but one daughter, the which I desire of your highness * * *. The emperor granted for fulfilling of the laws, though it were against his will * * *.
“The second petition is this, I ask all thy treasure; and immediately the emperor granted, because he would not be called a breaker of the law. And when the earl’s son had received the emperor’s treasure, he imparted it both to poor and to rich, by means whereof he obtained their good wills.
“My third petition is this, I ask, my lord, that all their eyes may be put out incontinent that saw my father eat the black side of the plaice. And they that saw him turn the plaice, bethought them, and said within themselves: If we acknowledge that we saw him do this trespass, then shall our eyes be put out: and therefore it is better that we hold us still; And so there was none found that would accuse him.
“When the earl’s son heard this, he said to the emperor, My lord (quoth he) ye see there is no man accuseth my father, therefore give me rightful judgment. Then said the emperor, Forasmuch as no man will acknowledge that they saw him turn the plaice, therefore I will not that thy father shall die. So thus the son saved his father’s life, and after the decease of the emperor married his daughter.”
CHAPTER XLVII.
This chapter, but with less incident, is the twenty-fifth history of the old English translation, which tolerably well exemplifies the usual arbitrary method of departing from the original text. As there is little interest in the story, I pass it.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
“Selestinus reigned, a wise emperor, in Rome, and he had a fair daughter.”
* * * * * * * * *
[It is needless to transcribe this tale (which is the origin of the bond story in Shakespeare’s “Merchant of Venice “) because it is to be found prefixed to all the editions of the drama itself, from the Peoorone of Ser Giovanni Fiorentino, an Italian novelist, who wrote in 1378. It occurs also in an old English MS. preserved in the Harl. Collection, No. 7333, evidently translated from the Gesta Romanorum [TEMP. Hen. VI.], which Mr, Douce has given in the 1st volume of his very entertaining Illustrations of Shakespeare, p. 281. But as the Tale of the Three Caskets has not been made so public, I insert it in this place, although it forms Chapter CIX. of the MS. Gesta. See also Note 11.]
“Some time dwelt in Rome a mighty emperor, named Anselm, who had married the king’s daughter of Jerusalem, a fair lady, and gracious in the sight of every man, but she was long time with the emperor ere she bare him any child; wherefore the nobles of the empire were very sorrowful, because their lord had no heir of his own body begotten: till at last it befell, that this Anselm walked after supper, in an evening, into his garden, and bethought himself that he had no heir, and how the king of Ampluy warred on him continually, for so much as he had no son to make defence in his absence; therefore he was sorrowful, and went to his chamber and slept. Then he thought he saw a vision in his sleep, that the morning was more clear than it was wont to be, and that the moon was much paler on the one side than on the other. And after he saw a bird of two colours, and by that bird stood two beasts, which fed that little bird with their heat. And after that came more beasts, and bowing their breasts toward the bird, went their way: then came there divers birds that sung sweetly and pleasantly, with that the emperor awaked.
“In the morning early this Anselm remembred his vision, and wondred much what it might signifie; 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 chear 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 bear. The two beasts that fed this bird, betokeneth the wise and rich men of the empire which shall obey the son. These other beasts that bowed their breasts 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 re Joyce 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 th
us : 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.