Chapter VI: Part 6

This tale toucheth suche young gentyll menne, that dispende ouer moche good[229] on haukes, houndes, and other trifils.

FOOTNOTES:

[224] Pressed.

[225] Wreaked, revenged.

[226] Reconcile them.

[227] _i. e._ according to their degree of madness. See _Introduction_, viii. ix.

[228] Assortment.

[229] Goods

¶ _Of hym that sayde he was not worthy to open the gate to the kynge._ liii.

¶ As a kynge of Englande hunted on a tyme in the countie of Kent, he hapte to come rydynge to a great gate, wherby stode a husbande man of the countrey, to whom the kynge sayde: good felowe, putte open the gate. The man perceyuynge it was the kynge, sayde: no, and please your grace, I am nat worthy; but I wyll go fetche Mayster Couper, that dwelleth nat past ij myles hense, and he shal open to you the gate.

¶ _Of mayster Uauasour and Turpin his man._ liiii.

¶ 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 hitherto, 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 lustye 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 God. 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 masse, 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, horeson, 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 multitude. 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 asse to the towne to sylle._ lix.

¶ An olde man on a tyme and a lyttell boye his sonne droue a litel asse 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 asse were his owne, by whiche wordes he coniected, that he did nat wel so to ouercharge the lyttell sely asse, that vnethe[241] was able to beare one. Thus he, troubled with their dyuers and manyfolde opinions; whiche, neither with his asse vacant, nor he alone, nor his sonne alone, nor bothe to gether rydyng at ones on the asse, coulde passe forth with out detraction and blame. Wherfore at last he bounde the asse[s] feet to gether, and put through a staffe; and so he and his sonne began to beare the asse 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 asse in to the water; and so whan he had drowned his asse he tourned home agayne. Thus the good man, desyrynge to please euerye bodye, contentynge none at all, loste his asse.

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._

And as Cicero, Persius, and Flaccus say: as many men so many myndes: as many heedes so many wyttes. That, that pleaseth one, displeaseth an other: Fewe alowe that that they loue nat: and that that a man aloweth, he thynketh good. Therfore the beste is, that euery man liue well, as a good Christen man shulde, and care nat for the vayne wordes and ianglynge of the people. For bablynge (as Plutarchus sayth) is a greuous disease, and harde to be remedied. For that that shulde heale it (which is wordes of wisdome) cureth them that harkneth there vnto; but pratlers wille here none but them selfe.

FOOTNOTES:

[241] Scarcely.

¶ _Of him that sought his asse and rode on his backe._ lx.

¶ There was in the countrey of Florence an husbande man, that vsed to carye corne to the market vpon many lytell asses. On a tyme as he came home warde, bycause he was somewhat werye, to ease him selfe, he rode on one the strongest of them. And as he rode, dryuinge his asses before him, he counted them, and forgot the asse that he rode on; wherfore he thought still that he lacked one. Thus sore troubled in his mynde, he bad his wyfe set vp his asses, and hastily rode agayne backe to the towne vii myles of, to seke the asse that he rode on. He asked euery body that he met, if they sawe an asse straye alone. Whan he herde euery bodye saye they sawe none suche, makynge great sorowe, he retourned home agayne. At laste, whan he was alyghted his wyfe parceyued and shewedde hym playnlye, that the asse, that he rode on, was the same that he soughte, and made suche sorowe fore.

This ieste may be well applied vnto suche as note the defautes, that they lyghtly[242] spy in other, and take none hede, nor can nat se, what ils they haue or[243] bene spotted with them selfe.

¶ _The answere of Fabius to Liuius._ lxi.

¶ Whan Anniball, the capitayne of Cartage, had conquered Tarent (a towne perteinyng to the Romayns), all saue the castell, and had lefte a garnison to kepe it, whan the worthy Romayne Fabius had knowelege therof, he pryuely conducted an armye thether, and got the towne agayne, and pylled[244] it. Than M. Liuius that kepte the castell with the garnison, sayde bostynge him selfe, that Fabius had gotte the towne through him and his helpe. You saye trouth, quod Fabius: for if you had nat loste the towne, I shulde neuer haue gotte hit.[245]

FOOTNOTES:

[242] Readily. A story very like this occurs in _A Sackful of Newes_, 1673. It was originally related by Poggius in his Facetiæ, where it is entitled _Asinus Perditus_, and it has been imitated by La Fontaine in the fable of "Le Villageois qui cherche son veau." It is also the 12th tale of _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_.

[243] Before.

[244] Pillaged.

¶ _The answere of Poltis, the kynge of Thrace, to the Troyan embassadors._[246] lxii.

¶ Plutarche lyke wyse reherseth that, durynge the warre of Troy, the Grekes and also the Troians sent ambassadours to a kynge of Thrace calledde Poltis, whiche kynge answered th ambassadours and bade, that Alexandre shulde delyuer agayne Helayne (for she was the cause of the warre), and he wolde gyue him ii fayre wyues for her.

FOOTNOTES:

[245] "Now there was one _Marcus Livius_, a ROMAINE that was Gouernour of TARENTUM at that time when _Hanniball_ tooke it, and neverthelesse kept the castell still out of _Hannibals_ hands, and so held it untill the city came againe into the hands of the ROMAINES. This _Livius_ spited to see such honour done to _Fabius_, so that one day in open Senate, being drowned with enuy and ambition, he burst out and said, that it was himselfe, not _Fabius_, that was cause of taking of the city of TARENTUM again. _Fabius_, smiling to hear him, answeryd him opely: 'Indeed, thou saiest true, for if thou hadst not lost it, I had never won it again.'"--Plutarch's _Lives_, transl. by Sir T. North, ed. 1603, fol. 192.

[246] [Greek: Poltus, ho Thrakôn basileus en tô Trôikô polemô presbeusamenôn pros auton hama tôn Trôôn kai tôn Achaiôn, ekeleuse ton Alexandron apodonta tên Helenên, duo par autou labein kalas gynaikas.]--Plutarchi _Apothegmata_ (Opera Moralia et Philosophica, vol. vi. p. 665, edit. Lipsiæ, 1777).

¶ _The wyse answere of Hanibal to kynge Antiochus, concerninge his ryche armye._ lxiii.

¶ Whan kynge Antiochus had prepared to make warre to the Romayns, he caused his armye to mustre before Anniball. So they shewed and mustred, both horse men and fote men; of whose ryche and sumptuous armour and apparaile al the felde glistred and shone. How saye you, quod the kynge to Hanibal, is nat this armye sufficient ynough for the Romayns? Yes, quod Haniball, and though they were the moste couetous of all the worlde. The kynge mente one thing, and he answered an other.[247]

¶ _The wordes of Popilius the Romayn embassadour to Antiochus the kynge._ lxiiii.

¶ One C. Popilius was sente vp[o]n a tyme by the Senatours of Rome with letters to Antiochus the kynge of Syrye, wherin the kyng was commaunded to calle his armye backe agayne oute of Aegipte: and that he shulde suffer the chyldren of Ptolome and theyr realme in peace. As th embassadour came by the kynges tentes and pauylyons, Antiochus a good waye of saluted him, but he did nat salute the kynge agayne, but delyuered to him his letters. Whan the kynge hadde redde the letters, he sayde, that he muste take counsayle, before he made him an answere. Popilius, with a rod that he had in his hande, made a compace aboute the kynge, and sayde: euen here standinge, take counsayle, and make me an answere. Euery man hadde meruayle at the grauite and stout stomacke of the man; and whan Antiochus was contente to do as the Romayns wolde haue hym, than Popilius both saluted and embraced him.[248]

FOOTNOTES:

[247] See the 21st Novel of the 1st tome of the _Palace of Pleasure_ (Haslewood's edit. i. 74).

¶ _Of him that loued the marchants wyfe._ lxv.

¶ Ther was a yonge lusty gentyll man vpon a tyme that was ryght amorous, and loued a certayne marchauntes wyfe oute of all measure, in so moch that he folowed her to the churche and other places, but he durste neuer speake. At the laste he, with two or thre of his felowes, folowed her to a fryers, where he hadde tyme and place conueniente to speake thre or four wordes to her, that he before had deuysed. So one of his felowes sayde: go nowe, speake to her. But he stode styll all astonied. They egged[249] and prouoked him so moche, that at last he wente vnto her, and, clene forgettynge those wordes that he had thoughte to haue spoken, he said to her on this wise: maistres, I am your owne lytel seruante; wherat she smyled and sayd: syr, I nede nat your seruyce: for I haue seruantes inow at home, that can brusshe, sponge, wasshe and do all my other busines. The whiche answere and folysshe basshemente of the gentyl man caused his felowes to laugh hartelye. This maner of folye was well knowen to the poet, whan he sayde:

_Incipit affari, mediaque in voce resistit._

Folysshe loue maketh folkes astonied
And eke to raue without remembrance
Whan they shulde speake, they bene abasshed
And of theyr wordes can make none vtterance
Nor be so hardye them selfe to auance
What tyme they se of her the swete face
Of whom the loue theyr hartes doth enbrace.

FOOTNOTES:

[248] "Quibus perlectis, quum se consideraturum, adhibitis amicis, quid faciendum sibi esset, dixisset, Popilius, pro cetera asperitate animi, virga, quam in manu gerebat, circumscripsit regem: ac, 'Priusquam hoc circulo excedas,' inquit, 'redde responsum, senatui quod referam.' Obstupefactus tam violento imperio parumper quum hæsitasset, 'Faciam,' inquit 'quod censet Senatus.' Tun demum Popilius dextram regi, tanquam socio atque amico, porrexit."--Livy, lib. xlv. c. 12, edit. Twiss.

[249] Edged.

¶ _Of the woman that couerd her heed and shewed her taile._ lxvi.

¶ As a woman, that for a certayne impedimente had shaued her heed, sat in her house bare heed, one of her neighbours called her forth hastely into the strete, and for haste she forgotte to putte on her kerchefe. When her neighbour sawe her so, she blamed her for cominge abrode bare heed: wherfore she whypte vp her clothes ouer her heed. And so to couer her hed she shewed her * * *. They, that stode by, beganne to laugh at her folysshenes, whiche to hyde a lytell faute shewed a greatter.[250]

This tale touchethe them, that wolde couer a smalle offence with a greatter wyckednesse; and as the prouerbe saythe: Stomble at a strawe, and leape ouer a blocke.

¶ _Howe Alexander was monysshed to slee the fyrste that he mette._ lxvii.

¶ Whan great Alexander wolde entre in to Perse lande with his armye, he counsayled with Apollo of his good spede:[251] and by lotte[252] he was warned, that he shulde commaunde to slee the fyrst that he mette, whan he issued out at a gate. Perchaunce, the fyrste that he mette was a man dryuynge an asse before hym. Incontinent the kyng commaunded to take and put hym to dethe. Whan the poore man sawe, that they wolde slee him, he said: what haue I done? Shall I that am an innocent [man] be putte to deathe? Alexander, to excuse his dede, sayde, he was warned by diuine monition to commaunde to slee the fyrste that he mette comynge out at that gate. If it be so, myghty kyng (quod the man), than the lotte dyuine hath ordeyned an other to suffre this deth and not me: for the lytel asse, that I droue before me, mette you fyrste.

Whiche subtyle sayenge greatly pleased Alexander: for elles he had done amysse; and so he caused the beaste to be slayne.

By this tale one may note, that it is better sometyme to be laste than fyrste.

FOOTNOTES:

[250] "Mal est caché a qui l'on void le dos."--Leigh's _Select French Proverbs_, 1664.

[251] Good fortune.

[252] Casting of lots.

¶ _Howe the cite of Lamsac was saued from destruction._ lxviii.

¶ As great Alexander on a tyme was fully purposed to haue vtterly distroyed a great cite, called Lamsac,[253] he sawe his mayster Anaximenes[254] come towarde him withoute the walles: and bicause the kynge perceyued manifestlye, that he came to entreate hym for the cite, he sware a great othe, that he wolde nat do that that he came to desyre hym fore. Than Anaximenes sayde: sir, I desyre your grace, that this same cite Lampsac may be vtterly distroyed. Through which sage and subtile sayeng the noble auncient citie was saued from ruyne and destruction.

FOOTNOTES:

[253] Lampsacus.

[254] Anaximenes, the historian, who wrote an account of the Life of Alexander the Great. He was a native of Lampsacus, and the nephew of the orator of the same name.

¶ _Howe Demosthenes defended a mayde._ lxix.

¶ There were two men on a time, the whiche lefte a great somme of money in kepyng with a maiden on this condition, that she shulde nat delyuer hit agayne, excepte they came bothe to gether for hit. Nat lang after, one of them cam to hir mornyngly arayde, and sayde that his felowe was deed, and so required the money, and she delyuered it to hym. Shortly after came the tother man, and required to haue the moneye that was lefte with her in kepyng. The maiden was than so sorowfull, both for lacke of the money, and for one to defende her cause, that she thought to hange her selfe. But Demosthenes, that excellent oratour, spake for her and sayd: sir, this mayden is redy to quite her fidelite,[255] and to deliuer agayne the money that was lefte with her in kepynge, so that thou wylt brynge thy felowe with the to resceyue it. But that he coude nat do.

¶ _Of him that desired to be made a gentilman._ lxx.

¶ There was a rude clubbysshe[256] felowe, that longe had serued the duke of Orliance; wherfore he cam on a tyme to the duke, and desired to be made a gentyll man. To whom the duke answered: in good feyth, I may well make the ryche, but as for gentyl man I can neuer make the.[257]

By which wordes appereth, that goodes and riches do not make a gentyl man, but noble and vertuous conditions do.

FOOTNOTES:

[255] _i.e._ Discharge, or acquit herself of, her trust.

[256] Uncouth. "If thou shuldest refuse to do any of these thynges, and woldest assaye to do some thing of more sadnes and prudence, they wyll esteme and count the vnmanerly, _cloubbysshe_, frowarde, and clene contrarye to all mennes myndes."--Erasmus _De Contemptu Mundi_, transl. by Thomas Paynel, 1533, fol. 42. "Rusticitie may seem to be an ignorance of honesty and comelinesse. A Clowne or rude fellow is he, who will goe into a crowd or presse, when he hath taken a purge: and hee that sayth, that Garlicke is as sweet as a gillifiower: that weares shooes much larger then his foot: that speakes alwaies very loud:" &c.,--_Theophrastus His Characters_, translated by John Healey, 1616, pp. 15, 16. It is a generally received opinion that this work has come down to us in a corrupt shape.

[257] Times were altered when the curious ballad "These Knights will hack," printed by Mr. Halliwell from Addit. MS. 5832, in one of the Shakespeare Society's publications (_Marriage of Wit and Wisdom_, &c., p. 144), was directed against the mushroom-knights of James I.:--

"Come all you farmers out of the countrey, Carters, plowmen, hedgers, and all, Tom, Dick, and Will, Ralph, Roger, and Humphrey, Leave of your gestures rusticall. Bidde all your home-sponne russets adue, And sute yourselves in fashions new: Honour invits you to delights; Come all to court, and be made knights. He that hath fortie pounds per annum Shal be promoted from the plow: His wife shall take the wall of her grannam, Honour is sould so dog-cheap now," &c.

¶ _Of the gentyll man and his shrewde wyfe._ lxxi.

¶ There was a certayne gentyll man, that had a cursed chydynge wyfe, that wente euery day, and complayned on hym to a religious man, the whiche religious man toke vpon hym by weye of confession to reconcile and accorde them to gether: and the gentyll man was very well contente, that he so shulde do, and came to him therfore. Whan the gentyll man was come, the religious man badde hym shewe his offences and trespaces. No, quod the gentyll man, that nedeth nat: for I knowe verye well my wyfe hath shewed vnto you all the offences that euer I dyd, and moche more.

¶ _Of the two yonge men that rode to Walsyngham._[258] lxxii.

¶ One John Roynoldes[259] rode oute of London vpon a tyme towarde Walsyngham, in company of a yonge man of the same cite, that hadde nat moche ben accustomed to ryde. So they came to an Inne, where a[260] great companye was lodged. And in the mornynge whan euery man made hym redy to ryde, and some were on horsebacke setting forwarde, John Roynoldes founde his companion, syttynge in a browne study at the Inne gate, to whom he sayd: for shame, man, how syttest thou? Why doste thou nat make the redy to horsebacke, that we myght sette forwarde with companye? I tary (quod he) for a good cause. For what cause, quod Roynoldes? Marye (quod he), here be so many horses, that I can nat telle whiche is myne owne amonge the other, and I knowe well, whan euery man is riden and gone, the horse that remaineth behynde must nedes be myn.

FOOTNOTES:

[258] Consult the new edition of Nares' Glossary, voce _Walsingham_. "This is an Image of oure Ladye. Ergo it is oure Ladye, and here she wyll worke wounders more than in an other place, as she dyd at Walsingham, at Boston, at Lincoln, at Ipswiche, and I cannot tell where."--Wilson's _Rule of Reason_, 1551, 8vo. sign S ii _verso_. In Percy's _Reliques_, ii. 91, is the ballad "As I went to Walsingham." "Have with you to Walsingham" is mentioned as a musical composition in Ward's _Lives of the Professors of Gresham College_. See also Burney's _Hist. of Music_, iii. p. 111. When people employed this form of adjuration, as was formerly very common, they were said, for brevity's sake, "to swear Walsingham." In the play of _The Weakest Goeth to the Wall_, 1600, 4to. Barnaby Bunch the Botcher sings:

"King Richard's gone to Walsingham, To the Holy Land!"

with what are intended for comic interlocutions. In March, 1502--3, Elizabeth of York, consort of Henry VII, made an oblation of six shillings and eightpence to "oure lady of Walsingham" (_Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York_, edited by Nicolas, p. 3). This offering may not appear very large, but it was thought a considerable sum to devote to the purpose in those days; for in the _Northumberland Household Book_, ed. 1827, p. 337, we find that the yearly offering of the Earl of Northumberland (Henry Algernon Percy, 5th. Earl, b. 1478, d. 1527) to the same shrine was fourpence. There is a fuller account of the Shrine of Walsingham, &c., in Chappell's _Popular Music of the Olden Time_, 121, et seqq.

[259] It is just possible that this individual may be identical with the "John Reynolde" mentioned in the subjoined extract from the _Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York_, under date of December, 1502:--

"It[=m] the xvth day of Decembre, to John Reynolde for money by him payed to a man that broke a yong hors of the Quenes at Mortymer by the space of v wekes, every weke iis. s[=m]. xs."

¶ _Of the yonge man of Bruges, and his spouse._ lxxiii.

¶ A yonge man of Bruges, that was betrouthed to a fayre mayden, came on a tyme, whan her mother was out of the way, and had to do with her. Whan her mother was come in, anone she perceyued by her doughters chere, what she had done; wherfore she was so sore displesed, that she sewed a diuorse, and wolde in no wyse suffre that the yonge man shulde marye her daughter.

Nat longe after, the same yonge man was maryed to an other mayden of the same parysshe: and as he and his wyfe satte talkynge on a tyme of the forsayde dammusell, to whome he was betrouthed, he fell in a nyce[261] laughyng. Whereat laugh ye? quod his wyfe. It chaunced on a tyme (quod he), that she and I dydde suche a thyng to gether, and she tolde hit to her mother. Therin (quod his wyfe) she playde the foole: a seruante of my fathers playde that game with me an hundred tymes, and yet I neuer tolde my mother. Whan he herde her saye so, he lefte his nyce laughynge.

FOOTNOTES:

[260] Orig. reads _as_.

¶ _Of hym that made as he hadde ben a chaste lyuer._ lxxiiii.

¶ A felowe, that toke vpon him, as he had ben the moste chaste and beste disposed man lyuinge, was by one of his felowes on a tyme taken in aduoutry,[262] and sharpely rebuked for it, bycause he prated so moche of chastite, and yet was taken in the same faute. To whome he answerde againe: O fool, doste thou thinke that I did it for bodely pleasure? No! no! I dyd it but onely to subdue my flesshe, and to purge my reynes.

Wherby ye may perceyue, that of all other dissemblynge hipocrytes are the worste.

FOOTNOTES:

[261] Foolish. Used in this sense by Chaucer and Shakespeare. See the last edit, of Nares _in voce_.

[262] I have already explained this word to signify adultery. The latter form appears to have been little used by old writers (though it occurs in the _Rule of Reason_, 1551, 8vo. by Thomas Wilson). Thus in Paynel's translation of Erasmus _De Contemptu Mundi_,1533, fol. 16, we find--"Richesse engendre and brynge forth inceste and advoutry."

"_Hobs._ Mass, they say King Henry is a very _advoutry_ man.

"_King._ A devout man? And what King Edward?"--

Heywood's _Edward IV._ Part I. 1600.

¶ _Of hym that the olde roode fell on._ lxxv.

¶ As a man kneled vpon a tyme prayenge before an olde rode, the rode felle downe on him and brak his hede; wherfore he wolde come no more in the churche halfe a yere after. At lengthe, by the prouocation of his nighbours, he cam to the churche agayne; and bycause he sawe his nighbours knele before the same rode, he kneled downe lyke wyse and sayde thus: well, I may cappe and knele to the; but thou shake neuer haue myn harte agayne, as long as I lyue.

By which tale appereth, that by gentyll and courteyse entreatinge mens myndes ben obteyned.[263] For though the people cappe and knele to one in highe authorite, yet lyttell whoteth he, what they thynke.

FOOTNOTES:

[263] Orig. and Singer read _opteyned_.

¶ _Of the wydow that wolde nat wedde for bodily pleasure._ lxxvi.

¶ There was a ryche wydowe, whiche desyredde a gossyp of hers, that she wold get her an husband: nat for the nyce playe, quod she, but to th' entente he may kepe my goodes to gether, whiche is an harde thinge for me to do, beynge a lone woman. Her gossyp, whiche vnderstode her conceyte, promysed her so to do. Aboute iii or iiii dayes after, she came to her agayne, and sayde: gossyp, I haue founde an husbande for you, that is a prudente, a ware, and a worldlye[264] wyse man, but he lacketh his priuey members, wherof ye force nat. Go to the dyuell with that husbande (quod the wydowe): for though that I desyre nat the nyce playe: yet I wylle that myne husbande shall haue that, where with we may be reconciled, if we falle at variance.

¶ _Of the couetous ambassodour, that wolde here no musike._ lxxvii.

¶ Whan a couetous man on a time was come vnto a certain cite, whither he was sent as ambassadour for his contrey, anon the mynstrels of the cite came to him to fil his eares with swete din, to th' intente he shuld fyl their purses with money. But he, perceyunge that, bad one of his seruauntes go and telle them, that he coulde nat than intende[265] to here their musicke, but he muste demene great sorow, for his mother was deed. So the minstrels, disapointed of theyr purpose, all sadlye went theyr waye. And whan a worshipfull man of the cite, that was his frende, herd tell of his mourning, he came to visete and comforte him; and so in talkynge together he asked, howe longe a go it was that his mother deceased? Truelye (quod he), hit is xl yere ago. Than his frende, vnderstandyinge his subtilte, beganne to laughe hartely.

This tale is aplyed to the couetous men, whiche by al crafte and meanes study to kepe and encreace theyr money and substance; agaynst whiche vyce many thinges ben wryten. As farre (sayth one) is that frome a couetous man that he hath, as that he hath nat.[266] And Diogenes calleth couetousnes the heed of all yuels, and saynt Hieronyme calleth couetousnes the rote of all yuels. And for an example, the tale folowinge shall be of couetousnes.

FOOTNOTES:

[264] Orig. and Singer read _wordlye_.

[265] Give attention.

[266] "The covetous man is servaunt and nat mayster vnto riches: and the waster will nat longe be mayster therof. The one is possessed and doth nat possesse; and the other within a shorte whyle leueth the possession of riches."--Erasmus _De Contemptu Mundi_, 1533, fol. 17 (Paynel's translation). So also, in the _Rule of Reason_, 1551, 8vo, Wilson says:--"Is a covetous man poore or not? I may thus reason with my self. Why should a couetous man be called poore, what affinitie is betwixt them twoo? Marie, in this poynct thei bothe agree, that like as the poore man ever lacketh and desireth to have, so the covetous manne ever lacketh, wantyng the use of that whiche he hath, and desireth styl to have." "To a covetous ma he (Pythagoras) sayde:--"O fole, thy ryches are lost upon the, and are very pouertie."--Baldwin's _Treatise of Morall Phylosophie_, 1547.

¶ _How Denise the tirant serued a couetous man._ lxxix.

¶ It was shewed to Denise the tyran, that a couetous man of the cite had hyd a great some of money in the grounde, and lyued moste wretchedly: wherfore he sente for the man, and commaunded him to go dyg vp the money, and so to deliuer it vnto him. The man obeyed, and delyuered vnto the tyran all the golde and treasure that he hadde, saue a small some, that he priuelye kept a syde: where with he wente in to an other cite, and forsoke Syracuse: and there bought a lytell lande, where vpon he lyued. Whan the tyran vnderstode that he hadde so done, he sent for him agayne; and whan he was come, the tyran sayde to him: syth thou haste lerned nowe to vse well thy goodes, and nat to kepe them vnprofytably, I wyll restore them all to the agayne. And so he dyd.

¶ _Of the olde man, that quengered[267] the boy oute of the apletree with stones._ lxxx.

¶ As an olde man walked on a tyme in his orcherd he loked vp, and sawe a boye sytte in a tree, stealynge his apples; whom he entreated with fayre wordes to come downe, and let his apples alone. And whan the olde man sawe, that the boye cared nat for him, by cause of his age, and set noughte by his wordes, he sayde: I haue harde saye, that nat onlye in wordes, but also in herbes, shulde be greatte vertue. Wherfore he plucked vp herbes, and beganne to throwe them at the boye, wherat the boye laughed hartelye, and thought that the olde man hadde ben mad, to thynke to driue him out of the tree with casting of herbes. Than the olde man sayde: well, seynge that nother wordes nor herbes haue no vertue agaynste the stealer of my goodes, I wylle proue what stones wylle do, in whiche, I haue harde men saye, is great vertue; and so he gathered his lappe full of stones, and threwe them at the boye, and compelled hym to come downe, and renne awaye.

This tale sheweth, that they, that bene wyse, proue many wayes, before they arme them.

FOOTNOTES:

[267] Conjured.

¶ _Of the ryche man that wolde not haue a glyster._ lxxxi.

¶ There was a certayn riche man on a tyme, whiche felle sycke, to the whose curynge came many phisitians (for flyes by heapes flee to honye). Amonge them all there was one that sayde, that he muste nedes take a glyster, if he wolde be holle. Whan the sicke man, that was nat envred with that medicine, harde hym saye so, he sayde in a great furye: out a dores with those phisitians! they be madde: for, where as my payne is in my heed, they wolde heale me in myne * * * *.

This fable sheweth that holsom thynges to them, that lacke knowlege and experyence, seme hurtfull.

¶ _Of hym that feyned hym selfe deed to proue what his wyfe wolde do._ lxxxii.

¶ A yonge married man on a time, to proue, to here and to se what his wyfe wolde do, if he were deed, came in to his house, whyle his wyfe was forthe wasshynge of clothes, and layd him downe in the floore, as he had ben deed. Whan his wyfe came in, and sawe him lye so, she thought he had ben deed in dede; wherfore she stode euen stylle, and deuysed with her selfe whether was better to bewayle his dethe forth with, or els to dyne fyrste; for she had eate of nomeate[268] all the day. All other thinges consydered, she determined to dyne fyrste. So she cut a coloppe of baken, and broyled it on the coles, and began to eate theron a pace; she was so hungrye, that she toke no hede of drynke. At laste, the saltenes of the meate made her to thyrste so sore, that she muste nedes drynke. So, as she toke the potte in her hande, and was goyng downe into her seller to drawe drynke, sodaynely came one of her neyghbours for a cole o' fyre.[269] Wherfore she stepped backe quickely, and though she was right thyrsty, yet she sette the potte a syde; and as [if] her husbande had than fallen downe deed, she beganne to wepe, and with many lamentable wordes to bewayle his dethe; which wepynge and walyng and sodaine dethe of her husbande caused all the neyghbours to come thyther. The man laye stylle in the floore, and so helde his brethe, and closed his eies, that he semed for certayne to be deade. At laste, whanne he thought he had made pastyme inough, and herynge his wyfe saye thus: alas! dere husbande, what shall I do nowe? he loked vp and sayde: full yll, my swete wyfe, excepte ye go quyckely and drynke; wherwith they al from wepyng tourned to laughynge, specially whan they vnderstode the matter and the cause of her thyrste.

Wherby ye may se, that nat without a good skyl the poet sayde:

_Ut flerent oculos erudiere suos._

FOOTNOTES:

[268] Orig. reads _no meat of_.

[269] Orig. reads _a fire_.

¶ _Of the poure man, into whose house theues brake by nyghte._[270] lxxxiii.

¶ There was a poore man on a tyme, the whiche vnto theues, that brake into his house on nyght, he sayde on this wyse: syrs, I maruayle, that ye thynke to fynde any thyng here by nyght: for I ensure you I can fynd nothing, whan it is brode day.

By this tale appereth playnly
That pouerte is a welthy mysery.

¶ _Of hym that shulde haue ben hanged for his scoffynge._ lxxxiiii.

¶ There was a mery felowe in hygh Almayn, the whiche, with his scoffynge and iestynge, had so moche displeased a great lorde of the countreye, that he thretned to hange hym, if euer he coude take hym in his countrey. Nat longe after, this lordes seruauntes toke hym, and hanged he shulde be. Whanne he sawe there was no remedy but that he shulde dye, he sayde: my lorde, I muste nedes suffre dethe, whiche I knowe I haue wel deserued. But yet I beseke you graunte me one peticion for my soule[s] helthe. The lorde, at the instaunce of the people that stode aboute, so it dydde not concerne his lyfe, was contente to graunte it hym. Than the felowe sayde: I desyre you, my lorde, that after I am hanged, to come iii mornynges, fresshe and fastynge, and kysse me on the bare ****. Where vnto the lorde answered: the deuyll kysse thyne ****: and so let hym go.

FOOTNOTES:

[270] This tale, which is a very old one, is also found in _Jests to Make You Merie_, by T[homas] D[ekker] and George Wilkins, Lond. 1607, 4to. and in the _Philosophers Banquet_, 1614, 3vo.

¶ _Of hym that had his goose stole._ lxxxv.

¶ A man, that had a goose stoole from hym, went and complayned to the curate, and desyred hym to do so moche as helpe, that he had his goose again. The curate sayde he wolde. So on Sonday the curate, as though he wolde curse, wente vp in to the pulpit, and bade euery body syt downe. So, whan they were set, he said: why sit ye nat downe? We be set all redy, quod they. Naye (quod the curate) he that dyd stele the goose sitteth nat. Yes, that I do, quod he. Sayste thou that, quod the curate? I charge the, on peyne of cursing, to bryng the goose home ageyn.

¶ _Of the begger that sayd he was kyn to kyng Philip of Macedone._ lxxxvi.

¶ There came a begger to kyng Philip of Macedone on a tyme, and prayde the kyng to gyue hym some what; and farther he sayde he was his kynse man. And whan the kyng asked hym which way, he answered and sayde howe they came bothe of Adam. Than the kynge commanded to gyue hym an almes. Whan the begger sawe it was but a small pece of moneye, he sayde, that was nat a semely gyfte for a kynge. The kynge answered: if I shuld gyue euery manne so moche, that is my kynse manne lyke as thou arte, I shulde leaue nothynge for my selfe.[271]

¶ _Of Dantes answere to the iester._ lxxxvii.

¶ Dantes the poete dwelled a whyle with Can, the Prince de la Scale,[272] with whome also dwelled an other Florentyne, that hadde neyther lernynge nor prudence, and was a man mete for nothynge but to scoffe and ieste; but yet with his mery toyes, he so moued the sayd Can, that he dydde greatly enryche hym. And, bycause Dantes dispised his foolysshenes, this scoffer sayd to hym: how cometh it, Dantes, that thou art helde[273] so wyse and so well lerned, and yet arte poore and nedy? I am an vnlerned man and am an ignorant fole, and yet I am farre richer than thou art. To whom Dantes answered: if I may fynde a lord lyke and conformable to my maners, as thou hast founde to thyn, he wyll lyke wyse make me ryche.

FOOTNOTES:

[271] In _Chevræana_, première partie, Paris, 1697, 8vo. p. 119, this story is altered to suit the Emperor Maximilian I.

[272] See Balbo, _Vita di Dante_, edit. 1853. Can de la Scala, mentioned in the text, was one of the sons of Alberto de la Scala, Lord of Verona, and was born in 1292. Some account of Alberto de la Scala may be found in my _Venetian History_.

The anecdote related here probably refers to the earlier period of Dante's acquaintance with the prince, about A. D. 1318-20. Balbo does not seem to have thought this story worthy of notice, though he furnishes one or two other examples of the poet's powers of retort. See also Cinthio's _Hecatommithi, Deca Settima, Novella settima_, edit. 1608.

¶ _Of hym that had sore eyes._[274] lxxxviii.

¶ One, that had sore eies, was warned of the phisitian, that he shulde in any wyse forbeare drinking or els lose his eies: to whom he sayd: it is more pleasure for me to lose myne eies with drinkynge, than to kepe them for wormes to eate them oute.

By this tale ye may perceyue, that it auayleth nat to warne some for theyr own profytte.

FOOTNOTES:

[273] Orig. reads _holde_.

[274]

"_On Sore Eyes._

_Fuscus_ was councell'd if he would preserve His eyes in perfect sight, drinking to swerve; But he reply'd, 'tis better that I shu'd Loose the, then keep them for the worms as food."

_Wits Recreations_, 1640 (p. 35 of reprint 1817).

¶ _Of the olde woman that had sore eyes._ lxxxix.

¶ There was an olde woman, the whiche bargayned with a surgean to heale her sore eyes; and whanne he hadde made her eies hole, and that she sawe better, she couenaunted that he shulde be payde his moneye, and not before. So he layde a medycyne to her eyes, that shulde not be taken awaye the space of v dayes, in whiche tyme she myghte nat loke vppe. Euery daye, whan he came to dresse her, he bare awaye some what of her householde stouffe, table clothes, candelstickes and disshes. He lefte no thinge, that he coulde carye clene. So whan her eies were hole, she loked vp, and sawe that her householde stouffe was caryede awaye. She sayde to the surgian, that came and required his money for his labour: syr, my promise was to pay you, whan ye made me se better than I did before. That is trouth, quod he. Mary, quod she, but I se worse nowe than I did. Before ye layde medicins to myn eies, I sawe moche fayre stouffe in myn house, and now I se nothinge at all.

¶ _Of hym that had the custodi of a warde._ xc.

¶ A certayn man, that had the custody of a ward and his goodes, and in shorte space had spente all awaye, was by the gouernour of the cite commanded to bring in his bookes of _Introitus et exitus_, that is to saye, of entraunce and layenge oute, and to gyue accompte of the orphlins[275] goodes. So whan he came, he shewed fyrste his mouthe, and sayde, here it wente in: and after he shewed vp his ****, and sayde: here hit wente out, and other bookes of _Introitus et exitus_ I haue none.

¶ _Of the excellent paynter, that had foule children._ xci.

¶ There was a peinter in Rome that was an excellent counnynge man, and bycause he had foule children, one sayde to him: by my feyth, I maruayle that you paynte so goodelye, and gette so foule chyldren. Yea, quod the peynter, I make my chyldren in the darke, and I peynte those fygures by daye lyght.[276]

[275] See the new edition of Nares _in voce_. _Orphlin_ is merely a contraction of the French _orphelin_.

[276]

"A Skilfull Painter such rare pictures drew, That every man his workemanship admir'd:

So neere the life in beautie, forme and hew, As if dead Art 'gainst Nature had conspir'd. Painter, sayes one, thy wife's a pretty woman, I muse such ill-shapt children thou hast got, Yet mak'st such pictures as their likes makes no man, I prethee tell the cause of this thy lot? Quoth he, I paint by day when it is light, And get my children in the darke at night."--

Taylor's _Sculler_, 1612 (Works, 1630, iii. 22).

¶ _Of the scoffer that made a man a south sayer._ xcii.

¶ There was a mery scoffynge felowe on a tyme, the whiche toke on him to teach a man to be a south sayer. Whan they were agreedde, what he shuld haue for his labour, the scoffer sayde to the man: holde! eate this rounde pellet, and I warant thou shalte be a south sayer. The man toke and put it in his mouth, and began to champe theron, but hit sauered so ill, that he spyt it out forth with, and said: phy! this pellet, that thou gyueste me to eate, sauereth all of a *****: Thou sayst trouth (quod the scoffer), nowe thou arte a south sayer; and therefore paye me my money.[277]

¶ _Of the marchaunt of Florence called Charles._ xciii.

¶ A marchaunt of Florence, called Charles, came frome Auignone to Rome; and as he sate at souper with a great company, one asked him how the Florentins at Auignone fared? He sayde they were merye and gladde: for they that dwelle there a yere (quod he) be as men that were franticke and out of theyr myndes. Than an other, that sate at souper with them, asked this Charles, how longe he had dwelled there. He answerde: vi monethes. Charles (quod he that asked him the question), thou haste a great wytte: for hit, that other be about xii monethes, thou hast fulfylled in halfe a yere.

FOOTNOTES:

[277] See _Scoggin's Jests_, p. 28 (edit. 1796).

¶ _Of the chesshire man called Eulyn._ xciiii.