Gesta Romanorum

by Charles Swan

  APPLICATION.

  My beloved, the emperor is God; the pauper, man. The forest is the world, which is full of pits. The lion is the Son of God, who assumed humanity; the monkey is conscience; and the serpent is a prelate or confessor. The cord is Christ’s passion; the loaded asses are the divine precepts.

  * This tale is in Alphonsus; in the Cente Novelle Antiche Nov. 74; in Boccaccio, Day 8, Nov. 10; and in the Arabian Nights.

  * “Per ecclesias proclamare fecit.” This may either mean that a notice was fastened to the church door, or given out from the pulpit. The last is most probable.

  † “A florin or franc; an ancient coine of gold in France, worth 28. sterl., not current at this day; (though Languedoc, and the countries adjoyning, retaine the name still, in a piece that’s worth 18d. sterl.).”—COTGRAVE.

  * “This story occurs in Symeon Seth’s translation of the celebrated Arabian fable-book, called CALILAH U DUMNAH.1 It is recited by Matthew Paris, under the year 1195, as a parable which king Kichard the First, after his return from the East, was often accustomed to repeat, by way of reproving those ungrateful princes who refused to engage in the crusade. It is versified by Gower, who omits the Lion, as Matthew Paris does the ape, in the fifth book of the CONFESSIO AMANTIS.”—WARTON.

  There is some little difference in Gower.

  “The stone he proffereth to the sale.

  * * * * * * *

  Thus when this stone was bought and sold,

  Homeward with joy many-fold;

  This Bardus goeth, and when he came

  Home to his house, and that he name2

  His gold out of his purse within,

  He found his stone also therein.

  * * * * * * *

  “And thus it fell him overall

  Where he it sold in sundry place,

  Such was the fortune, and the grace.”

  Confessio Amantis, lib. v. fol 111–12.

  1 “This work was translated into English under the title of ‘DONIE’S MORAL PHILOSOPHE, translated from the Indian tongue, 1570.’ B.L. with wooden cuts, 4to. But Doni was the Italian translator.”—WARTON.

  2 Reckon, count.

  TALE CXX.

  OF FEMININE SUBTLETY.

  KING Darius was a circumspect prince, and had three sons, whom he much loved. On his deathbed he bequeathed the kingdom to his first-born; to the second, all his own personal acquisitions; and to the third a golden ring, a necklace, and a piece of valuable cloth. The ring had the power to render any one who bore it on his finger beloved; and, moreover, obtained for him whatsoever he sought. The necklace enabled the person who wore it upon his breast to accomplish his heart’s desire; and the cloth had such virtue, that whosoever sat upon it and thought where he would be carried, there he instantly found himself. These three gifts the king conferred upon the younger son, for the purpose of aiding his studies; but the mother retained them until he was of a proper age. Soon after the bequests, the old monarch gave up the ghost, and was magnificently buried. The two elder sons then took possession of their legacies, and the mother of the younger delivered to him the ring, with the caution that he should beware of the artifices of women, or he would otherwise lose the ring. Jonathan (for that was his name) took the ring, and went zealously to his studies, in which he made himself a proficient. But walking on a certain day through the street, he observed a very beautiful woman, with whom he was so much struck, that he took her to him. He continued, however, to use the ring, and found favour with every one, insomuch that whatever he desired he had.

  Now, the lady was greatly surprised that he lived so splendidly, having no possessions; and once, when he was particularly exhilarated, tenderly embraced him, and protested that there was not a creature under the sun whom she loved so much as she did him. He ought therefore, she thought, to tell her by what means he supported his magnificence. He, suspecting nothing, explained the virtues of the ring; and she begged that he would be careful of so invaluable a treasure. “But,” added she, “in your daily intercourse with men you may lose it: place it in my custody, I beseech you.” Overcome by her entreaties, he gave up the ring; and when his necessities came upon him, she asserted loudly that thieves had carried it off. He lamented bitterly that now he had not any means of subsistence; and, hastening to his mother, stated how he had lost his ring. “My son,” said she, “I forewarned you of what would happen, but you have paid no attention to my advice. Here is the necklace; preserve it more carefully. If it be lost, you will for ever want a thing of the greatest honour and profit.” Jonathan took the necklace, and returned to his studies. At the gate of the city his mistress met him, and received him with the appearance of great joy. He remained with her, wearing the necklace upon his breast; and whatever he thought, he possessed. As before, he lived so gloriously that the lady wondered, well knowing that he had neither gold nor silver. She guessed, therefore, that he carried another talisman; and cunningly drew from him the history of the wonder-working necklace. “Why,” said the lady, “do you always take it with you ? You may think in one moment more than can be made use of in a year. Let me keep it.” “No,” replied he, “you will lose the necklace, as you lost the ring; and thus I shall receive the greatest possible injury.” “O my lord,” replied she,” I have learnt, by having had the custody of the ring, how to secure the necklace ; and I assure you no one can possibly get it from me.” The silly youth confided in her words, and delivered the necklace.

  Now, when all he possessed was expended, he sought his talisman; and she, as before, solemnly protested that it had been stolen. This threw Jonathan into the greatest distress, “Am I mad,” cried he, “that after the loss of my ring I should give up the necklace?” Immediately hastening to his mother, he related to her the whole circumstance. Not a little afflicted, she said, “Oh, my dear child, why didst thou place confidence in the woman? People will believe thee a fool: but be wise, for I have nothing more for you than the valuable cloth which your father left: and if you lose that, it will be quite useless returning to me.” Jonathan received the cloth, and again went to his studies. The harlot seemed very joyful; and he, spreading out the cloth, said, “My dear girl, my father bequeathed me this beautiful cloth; sit down upon it by my side.” She complied, and Jonathan secretly wished that they were in a desert place, out of the reach of man. The talisman took effect; they were carried into a forest on the utmost boundary of the world, where there was not a trace of humanity. The lady wept bitterly, but Jonathan paid no regard to her tears. He solemnly vowed to Heaven that he would leave her a prey to the wild beasts, unless she restored his ring and necklace; and this she promised to do. Presently, yielding to her request, the foolish Jonathan discovered the power of the cloth; and, in a little time being weary, placed his head in her lap and slept. In the interim, she contrived to draw away that part of the cloth upon which he reposed, and sitting upon it alone, wished herself where she had been in the morning. The cloth immediately executed her wishes, and left Jonathan slumbering in the forest. When he awoke, and found his cloth and his mistress departed, he burst into an agony of tears. Where to bend his steps he knew not; but arising, and fortifying himself with the sign of the cross, he walked along a certain path, until he reached a deep river, over which he must pass. But he found it so bitter and hot, that it even separated the flesh from the bones. Full of grief, he conveyed away a small quantity of that water, and when he had proceeded a little further, felt hungry. A tree upon which hung the most tempting fruit invited him to partake; he did so, and immediately became a leper. He gathered also a little of the fruit, and conveyed it with him. After travelling for some time, he arrived at another stream, of which the virtue was such, that it restored the flesh to his feet; and eating of a second tree, he was cleansed from his leprosy. Some of that fruit he likewise took along with him.

  Walking in this manner day after day, he came at length to a castle, where he was met by two men, who inquired what he was. “I am a physician,” answered he. “This
is lucky,” said the other; “the king of this country is a leper, and if you are able to cure him of his leprosy, vast rewards will be assigned you.” He promised to try his skill; and they led him forward to the king. The result was fortunate; he supplied him with the fruit of the second tree, and the leprosy left him; and washing the flesh with the water, it was’ completely restored. Being rewarded most bountifully, he embarked on board a vessel for his native city. There he circulated a report that a great physician was arrived; and the lady who had cheated him of the talismans, being sick unto death, immediately sent for him. Jonathan was so much disguised that she retained no recollection of him, but he very well remembered her. As soon as he arrived, he declared that medicine would avail nothing, unless she first confessed her sins; and if she had defrauded any one, it must be restored. The lady, reduced to the very verge of the grave, in a low voice acknowledged that she had cheated Jonathan of the ring, necklace, and cloth; and had left him in a desert place to be devoured by wild beasts. When she had said this, the pretended physician exclaimed, “Tell me, lady, where these talismans are?” “In that chest,” answered she; and delivered up the keys, by which he obtained possession of his treasures. Jonathan then gave her of the fruit which produced leprosy; and, after she had eaten, of the water which separated the flesh from the bones. The consequence was that she was excruciated with agony, and shortly died. Jonathan hastened to his mother, and the whole kingdom rejoiced at his return. He told by what means God had freed him from such various dangers; and, having lived many years, ended his days in peace. (15)

  APPLICATION.

  My beloved, the king is Christ; the queen-mother, the Church; and the three sons, men living in the world. The third son is any good Christian: the ring is faith; the necklace is grace or hope; and the cloth, charity. The concubine is the flesh; the bitter water is repentance, and the first fruit is remorse; the second water is confession, and the second fruit is prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. The leprous king is any sinful man; the ship in which Jonathan embarked is the divine command.

  TALE CXXI.

  OF WORLDLY GLORY AND LUXURY.

  THERE formerly lived a king who had two knights resident in one city. One of them was old, the other young. The old knight was rich, and had married a youthful damsel on account of her exquisite beauty. The young knight was poor, and espoused an old woman in consequence of her immense wealth. It happened that the young knight walked by the castle of the elder, and in a window his wife sat, and sang deliciously. The youth was much taken with her, and said in his heart, “It would be ten thousand times better if that sweet girl were united to me, and her old doting husband possessed of my infirm wife.” From that hour he conceived a violent affection for her, and made her many valuable presents. The lady entertained a similar feeling, and, whenever she could, permitted him to visit her. She endeavoured also to secure him for her husband in the event of the old man’s death. Now, near the window of the castle which the old knight occupied, there grew a fig-tree, on which a nightingale stationed herself every evening, and uttered the most ravishing harmony. This circumstance drew the lady thither; and it became a custom with her to remain at the window a long time, to listen to the song of the nightingale. When her husband, good man! noticed this extreme watchfulness, he said, “My dear, what is the reason that you get up every night with so much regularity?” “A nightingale,” answered she, “sings upon the fig-tree, opposite my window; and her song is so delightful that I cannot resist the pleasure of listening to it.” The old knight hearing this, arose early in the morning, and, armed with bow and arrow, hastened to the fig-tree. He shot the nightingale, and taking out the heart, presented it to his wife. The lady wept exceedingly, and said, “Sweet bird, thou didst but what became thee. I alone am the occasion of thy death.” Immediately she despatched a messenger to the youthful knight, to inform him of her husband’s cruelty. The intelligence grieved him to the heart’s core, and he exclaimed internally, “If this cruel old wretch only knew how much his wife and I are attached to each other, he would treat me even more vilely!” This reflection determined him; he cased himself in a double coat of mail, and entering the castle, slew the aged knight. Soon after this, his old wife dying, he married the relict of the old knight. They lived many years, and ended their days in peace.*

  APPLICATION.

  My beloved, the two knights are Moses and Christ, The latter, who is the old knight, married a young wife, that is, the new law. The old wife is the old law. The fig-tree is the Cross; the nightingale, Christ’s humanity, which the Jews destroyed. The heart of the bird is the love exhibited by our Saviour. The double arms are the Jewish ceremonies, &c.

  * This is strange justice; but I suppose the monk meant to inculcate what Pope, after Chaucer, has since observed, that—

  “No greater folly can be seen

  Than crooked eighty, coupled with eighteen.”

  The maxim is indisputable; but I wish the writer of the Gest had otherwise expressed it.

  The above story is among the Lays of Marie (a French poetess, temp. Henry III., resident in England) under the title of LAUSTIC. Mr. Ellis, in his abstract, has not noticed its occurrence in the Gesta Romanorum.

  TALE CXXII.

  OF ECCLESIASTICAL BLINDNESS.

  A CERTAIN knight went to gather grapes in his vineyard. His wife, imagining that he would be absent for a longer time than he actually was, sent hastily for her gallant. While they were together the knight returned; for it seems, while plucking down a bunch of grapes, he had struck out an eye, and came home in great agony. The lady, hearing his knock at the gate, was much perturbed, and immediately concealed her lover. The knight entering, complained of his wounded eye, and directed a bed to be prepared, that he might lie down. But the wife, fearing lest the gallant, who was hidden in the chamber, should be detected, said, “Why would you go to bed? tell me what has happened.” He told her. “My dear lord,” cried she, “permit me to strengthen the uninjured eye by medicinal applications,* or the diseased part may communicate with the sound, and thereby both be irremediably injured.” The knight made no objection, and his wife spreading a large plaster so as completely to obstruct his sight, beckoned to her gallant, who escaped. Satisfied with her successful stratagem, the lady observed to the husband, “There, dear! now I feel satisfied that your sound eye will take no injury. Go into your bed, and sleep.” †