Illustrations of Shakspeare, and of Ancient Manners: / with Dissertations on the Clowns and Fools of Shakspeare; on a Collection of Popular Tales Entitled Gesta Romanorum; and on the English Morris dance.

by Francis Douce

ON THE GESTA ROMANORUM.

Enquiries like the present, however unimportant to the generality of readers, will not fail of being duly appreciated by those who take an interest in tracing the origin and progress of literary genius, which has perhaps been never more successfully, and even laudably, employed, than in the composition of such works as combine amusement with instruction. Of these the simple and engaging apologues of many ancient writers form a considerable portion, and have always been justly and generally esteemed. This mode of conveying instruction became so attractive in the middle ages, that the ecclesiastics themselves were under the necessity of introducing narrations both historical and imaginary into their discourses, in order to acquire that degree of popularity and attention which might otherwise have been wanting, and also for the purpose of enforcing their morality by such examples as should touch the feelings of the hearers, and operate, with respect at least to ruder minds, more efficaciously than precept. The work before us was designed to answer these purposes; and it not only proceeded on this ground in common with others of a similar nature, but has even furnished the materials to some of the best writers, and more especially poets, of ancient and modern times.

It will perhaps be expected that some reason should be assigned why the present essay has been attempted, after the labours of Mr. Warton on the same subject, which some may think has been amply and satisfactorily treated, if not exhausted; and if the judgment and accuracy of that pleasing and elegant writer had been commensurate with his taste and industry, the expectation had been exceedingly well founded. This however is, unfortunately, not the case. He has, in this and many other instances, left much to be done and undone; but we ought to feel very grateful to him for having founded a school that has already produced some accomplished pupils, and will, no doubt, contribute to form many a future one. Thus much seems due to an amiable man and excellent character, who has been most undeservedly insulted for errors of small moment, and censured for opinions of the most innocuous kind. Even his antiquarian dullness and perseverance have been arraigned, as if in a work like the history of English poetry, genius should have occupied the place of industry, and have created those facts which honest men are content to discover; a method not uncommon with some writers who have derived too much of their importance from the indolence and superficiality of their readers, and who are unwilling to submit to those laws of providence which justly impose on man the duty of penetrating to the mine before he be permitted to enjoy the precious metal. Such was not Warton. His taste and research will remain the admiration of future ages, when the flimsy compositions of some of his opponents shall be totally forgotten. He has effected, however imperfectly, more for the illustration of English poetry than any or all of his predecessors, or than has hitherto been, accomplished for the poetry of other nations, by any writer whatever.

Mr. Warton's dissertation would, no doubt, have been rendered more perfect, had he been aware of a fact which had not only escaped his own attention, but even that of Mr. Tyrwhitt. Neither of these gentlemen, in consulting the manuscripts of the Gesta Romanorum, had perceived that there were two works so entitled, totally distinct from each other, except as to imitation, and certainly compiled by different persons. Of that treated of by Mr. Warton, it is presumed no manuscript has been yet described; of the other several manuscripts remain, but it has never been printed, except in some translated extracts. It will be better to postpone for the present any further mention of the latter, and to proceed to submit some additional remarks on the other. And first of its use and design.

A particular mode of instruction from the pulpit has been already hinted at, and will admit of some enlargement. Mr. Warton has mentioned one of the earliest instances of introducing Æsop's fables, as recorded by Vincent of Beauvais in the thirteenth century.[96] Supplies of another kind were furnished to those who might be more scrupulous as to the use of profane examples, not only in that great repertory of pious fictions, The golden legend, but in multitudes of similar stories, denominated in France contes devots, and composed for the purpose of counteracting the great influence which the witty and licentious stories of the minstrels had obtained, of which they were palpable imitations both in construction and versification. Most of these were founded on miracles supposed to have been operated by the Virgin Mary. The earliest known specimens of them were composed in the twelfth century by Hugues Farsi, a monk of St. John de Vignes at Soissons, who was soon followed by many imitators both in prose and verse.[97] His own work was turned into French verse by Gautier de Coinsi, another monk of Soissons, about 1230. A similar collection is the Lives of the holy fathers, chiefly from Saint Jerome, and anonymously composed in French verse by some person whose name deserved to have been recorded on account of the great merit of the work, which would be deemed an ornament to any period, for the excellence of the poetry.

The promptuary of examples for the use of preachers, at the end of Herolt's Sermones discipuli, composed in 1418, has been already mentioned by Mr. Warton, who has given a curious and correct account of that work; but he has omitted to notice, that, among a multitude of pious authors cited in it, the name of Ovid appears. This practice of indiscriminate quotation became afterwards very common. It was, indeed, sanctioned by a preceding custom, among religious writers, of moralizing works of all denominations. Thus, to mention only a few, Thomas Walleys, a Welsh Dominican friar, had published his moralizations of Ovid's metamorphoses, in the fourteenth century.[98] The Bestiarium, a treatise on animals, is, as well as the Gesta Romanorum, perhaps an earlier instance. Afterwards the celebrated, but licentious, Romance of the rose was moralized by Jean Molinet. Even the game of chess was moralized; for the reader who may take up Caxton's translation of Jacobus de Cæsolis, will be grievously disappointed should he expect to find any didactic or even historical information. We are not to wonder, therefore, if on the restoration of letters, a system of morality was extracted from Æsop and other fabulists; and, accordingly, some of the early printed editions of Æsop were published under the title of Æsopus moralizatus, and this, no doubt, led the way to the moral applications to his fables which afterwards appeared in other languages.

Among the preachers who interspersed their sermons with narrations of various kinds, a Carthusian monk of the fifteenth century deserves particular mention. With as much quaintness as humility, he styles himself Guillelmus Hilacensis quondam simplex cordatus pauperculus discalciatus ac contemptibilis denudatus, sapientissimorum rudissimus, electorum infimus, et minorum minimus. He has left a volume of sermons on the Lord's prayer, with stories in every page.[99] In the British Museum there is a very curious collection of Latin sermons, compiled about the reign of Henry the Sixth, by a person who calls himself a vicar of Magdalen college, Oxford. They abound with stories from Æsop, Cicero, Seneca, Valerius Maximus, Saint Austin, venerable Bede, &c.[100] Stephen Baron, an English Minorite in the reign of Henry the Eighth, has left a similar volume of sermons preached before the university of Cambridge.[101]

Among the most remarkable persons of this description who soon followed, were fathers Menot, Maillard, Barelete, Raulin, Vincent Ferrier, Pierre de Boves, &c., whose discourses are filled with quotations from Virgil, Valerius Maximus, Apuleius, Dante, Petrarch, and the Gesta Romanorum. Erasmus, ridiculing the absurdities of some of the theologians, mentions their practice of quoting the Speculum historiale and Gesta Romanorum.[102] Schelhorn speaks of a copy of the latter in his possession, dated 1499, in which some former possessor had marked against many of the stories the year in which he had used them in his sermons.[103] Even in the eighteenth century the Italians had not left off this custom. Grosley states, that he heard a buffoon preacher at Rome, who stuffed his discourse with a thousand tales, among which was that of father Philip's geese, from Boccaccio.[104]

There is a remarkable work to which the preachers of the middle ages appear to have been indebted, and which deserves mention here not only on that account, but also from its having hitherto remained in unmerited obscurity. This may be partly owing to its having never been printed. It is a collection of tales and fables that has been ascribed to Odo de Ceriton, Shirton, or Cirington, for all these names are mentioned, a Cistercian monk of the twelfth century. In one manuscript they are called proverbs, and given to Hugo de Sancto Victore, of the monastery of Saint Victoire at Paris, and who lived much about the last-named period.[105] There is perhaps no task more difficult than that of ascertaining the real authors of many works of the middle ages, especially where, as in the present instance, there occurs any thing satirical against religious abuses. The evidence with respect to authorship is in favour of the Englishman, because in some of the stories English sentences are found. Nor do the sarcasms against the clergy militate in the least against ecclesiastical manufacture. Numerous instances could be brought to show the satirical spirit of the clergy, frequently towards each other, and generally against the church of Rome.

The work in question is an extraordinary mixture of Æsopian fables with pious and profane histories in great variety. One or two specimens have been already given,[106] but the reader may not regret the trouble of perusing the following in addition. "There is a kind of wren, named after Saint Martin, with very long and slender legs. This bird sitting one day in a tree, in the fullness of his pride suddenly exclaimed; 'It matters not to me though the heavens fall; for with the aid of my strong legs I shall be able to support them.' Presently a leaf fell upon the foolish boaster, who immediately flew away in great terror, exclaiming, 'O Saint Martin, Saint Martin, help your poor bird!'" The moral compares Saint Peter denying Christ to this wren, which it also assimilates to certain pot-valiant soldiers, who boast, in their cups, that each of them can beat three of the stoutest Frenchmen. Again: "Isengrin the wolf, to expiate his sins, became a monk. His brethren endeavoured to teach him his letters, that he might say Pater noster; but all that they were able to get from him was, 'lamb, lamb.' They told him to look up to the cross, but could never make him turn his eyes from the sheep. In like manner do the monks cry out for good wine, and fix their eyes on dainty viands and full trenchers; whence the English proverb, Yf alle that the wolf unto the prest worthe and be sette on to boke salmes to ler, ȝit is ever hys onne eye to the wodeward."[107] To conclude with one more, "The wolf being dead, the lion assembled the rest of the beasts to celebrate his obsequies. The hare carried the holy water, and the hedge-hogs the wax tapers. The goats tolled the bells; the badger dug the grave; the fox carried the coffin; Berengarius the bear celebrated mass; the ox read the gospels, and the ass the epistles. Mass being finished, and Isengrin duly buried, the beasts partook of a splendid feast, the expense of which was defrayed out of the deceased's property. The parties wished for nothing better than a similar ceremony. So, says the moral, on the death of any rich usurer, the abbots assemble all the beasts of the monastery; for in general, the black and white monks are really brutes, that is, lions in pride; foxes in cunning; hogs in gluttony; goats in luxury; asses in sloth; and hares in cowardice."

Besides the storehouses of this sort of knowledge that have been already described, there were doubtless many others that are now lost; but there is one that ought not to be passed over without some notice. It is the Summa prædicantium of John Bromyard, an English preacher, and a violent opponent of Wicliffe. It is an immense repertory of matter for the use of the clergy, every page containing stories and examples in all possible variety.[108] It is divided into classes of such subjects as were adapted to the pulpit, and must have been a work of immense labour, and the result of much reading. In the article rapina he has a story resembling chap. viii. of the Gesta Romanorum, which he probably cites under the title of Antiqua gesta.

Although most of these works were undoubtedly composed for the immediate purpose of assisting the preachers, it by no means follows that they were exclusively so, or that other uses might not be made of some of them. Not that they could be accessible to the laity in any great degree, inasmuch as they were wrapped up in a learned language. But the private readings of the monks would not be always of a serious and ascetic nature. They might be disposed occasionally to recreate their minds with subjects of a lighter and more amusing nature; and what could be more innocent or delightful than the stories of the Gesta Romanorum? They might even have indulged in this kind of recreation during their continuance in the refectory after meals. For this purpose one of the fraternity, more eminently qualified than the rest, might entertain them with the recital of matters that would admit of some moral application to be made by the reader, or which was already attached to the subject. The word carissimi, so frequently to be found in the moralizations, seems as much adapted to this purpose, as to the addressing of an auditory from the pulpit. Perhaps the same idea had occurred to him who chose to apply the term liber monasticus to the Gesta Romanorum.[109]

The excellent analytical account that has been given of this work would admit of no other improvement than some augmentation of the sources of the stories, and of their several imitations; but with respect to the author of it, some further inquiry may be necessary. Mr. Warton has attempted to show, with considerable ingenuity as well as plausibility, that the Gesta Romanorum was composed by Peter Bercheur, a native of Poitou, and prior of the convent of Saint Eloy at Paris, where he died in 1362.[110] He has founded this opinion on a passage in the Philologia sacra of Salomon Glassius, who, in his chapter de allegoriis fabularum, after censuring those writers who not only employed themselves in allegorizing the scriptures, but affected to discover in profane stories and poetical fictions certain matters that seemed to illustrate the mysteries of the Christian faith, makes the following observation: "Hoc in studio excelluit quidam Petrus Berchorius Pictaviensis, ordinis Divi Benedicti: qui peculiari libro, Gesta Romanorum, necnon legendas patrum, aliasque aniles fabulas, allegoricè ac mysticè exposuit." On this single testimony, or rather assertion, which is unaccompanied by any proof or reference to authority, Mr. Warton proceeds to assign his reasons for concluding that Bercheur was the author of the Gesta, and they are principally these: 1. A general coincidence between the manner and execution of the works of Bercheur and the Gesta. 2. A resemblance in their titles. 3. The introduction of some of the stories of the Gesta into the Repertorium morale of Bercheur.[111] 4. His having allegorized the Metamorphoses of Ovid. And 5. His writings being full of allusions to the Roman history. To these might have been added the quotations common to both the Gesta and the Repertorium from Pliny, Seneca, Solinus, and Gervase of Tilbury, and the time in which Berchorius lived, which certainly corresponds with that of the composition of the Gesta Romanorum, as far as can be collected from internal evidence. It may be remarked in this place, that Mr. Tyrwhitt, in supposing it to have been written at the end of the 12th or the beginning of the 13th century, has fixed on too early a date.[112] It could not have been written before 1256, because the chronicle of Albertus, which is cited in one of the chapters, terminates with that year.

It might be supposed that very little could be urged in opposition to the foregoing reasons, nor is it here intended to deny absolutely that Bercheur was the author of the Gesta: but certain doubts having arisen on the subject, they shall be submitted to the reader, that he may then be enabled to use his own judgment and discretion in deciding the question. With respect to the similitude between the works of Berchorius and the Gesta Romanorum, no one would think of maintaining, on this ground alone, that any two compositions, the one anonymous, were written by the same author. It shows, generally speaking, nothing more than coincidence, or, what is more likely, simple imitation; and it is as probable that the author of one of the works should have imitated the other, as that one person should have written both. Perhaps the other reasons might be disposed of in the same way, but it will be better to state specific objections to them; and here Mr. Warton's own evidence might be turned against himself. He had stated on a former occasion,[113] his having seen a manuscript of the Gesta in almost Saxon characters; but it is certain that this manuscript had doubly deceived him, and that his eye had caught one or two of the Saxon letters which continued to be used in writing long after Saxon times.

In the preface to the Repertorium morale Bercheur tells us that he was by birth a Frenchman, a Benedictine monk, and the familiar servant of Cardinal de Pratis, or Des Prez, to whom he was indebted for books and other necessaries towards the completion of his works. Now throughout the ponderous tomes that have been consulted for this purpose, there are no Gallicisms to be traced, nor any other symptom of French authorship. On the other hand, there are strong marks that the Gesta Romanorum was composed by a German. In the moralization to chapter 144, there is, in most of the early editions, a German proverb; and, in chapter 142, several German names of Dogs. Many of the stories are extracted from German authors, as Cesarius, Albert of Stade, and Gervase of Tilbury, who wrote his book De otiis imperialibus, in Germany. In this country likewise the earliest editions of the Gesta were printed.

Mr. Warton, anticipating an objection that might be taken from the omission of any mention of the Gesta by the biographers of Bercheur, has remarked, that it might have been among his smaller pieces, or proscribed by graver writers, or even discarded by its author as a juvenile performance, unsuitable to his character and abounding in fantastic and unedifying narration. But this description does not accord with the general use that we know to have been made of it in the pulpit; nor can it come under the denomination of a work that is not altogether grave, serious, and moral, nor likely to have been the effusion of a glowing or youthful mind. Besides, the biographers of Bercheur are not alone silent as to the Gesta; the editors of his printed works were entirely unacquainted with it as his composition, and they were more likely to have been better informed on the subject than Glassius, whose opinion, like Mr. Warton's, seems to have been mere inference, and unsupported by any evidence. But what is more to the point, Bercheur has himself, in the prologue to his Repertorium, and in the preface to a French translation of Livy, given a very particular account of his works, among which his moralizations of the Fabulæ poetarum, never printed, are mentioned; yet this is certainly not the Gesta Romanorum, any more than the Chronicon mentioned by Mr. Warton.[114] Again; most of the known works of Bercheur are still existing in manuscript, but not a single manuscript that can be pronounced to be the Gesta Romanorum in question has occurred after the most diligent research. Such indeed might be supplied from the libraries in Germany, and possibly throw new light on this difficult and mysterious inquiry. Some stress has been laid on the circumstance of four of the stories in the Gesta being related in the Repertorium morale,[115] but they are not told in the same words, and the moralizations are entirely different. This has very much the appearance of different authorship. The title of Reductorium to some of the editions of the Gesta, together with many other matters, might have been borrowed from the writings of Bercheur by some German Monk, whose name has been irretrievably consigned to oblivion. It is scarcely worth while to mention the blunder that Foppens has committed in ascribing the composition instead of the printing of the Gesta, to Gerard De Leeu, of Gouda in Holland.[116]

It remains to offer some account of the various forms in which this once popular and celebrated work has appeared; and the rather, because what has been said on this subject is widely scattered, unconnected, and frequently erroneous.

Manuscripts.—It is a fact as remarkable as the obscurity which exists concerning the author of the Gesta, that no manuscript of this work, that can with certainty be pronounced as such, has been hitherto described. If the vast stores of manuscripts that are contained in the monastic and other libraries of Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and Spain, were examined, there is scarcely a doubt that some original of a work so often printed would be discovered. Father Montfaucon has indeed mentioned a manuscript Gesta Romanorum in the Vatican;[117] but it may be either a transcript from the printed copy, or a different work under the same title, that will presently be noticed.

Printed Editions.—The titles of these are different, and are as follows:

No. 1. "Incipiunt hystorie collecte ex gestis romanorum et quibusdam aliis libris cum applicationibus eorundem."

The colophon. "Et sic est finis."

No. 2. "Incipiunt historie notabiles atque magis principales collecte ex gestis romanorum et quibusdam aliis notabilibus gestis cum moralizationibus eorundem."

The colophon. "Et sic est finis."

No. 3. "Ex gestis romanorum hystorie notabiles de viciis virtutibusque tractantes cum applicacionibus moralisatis et misticis incipiunt feliciter."

The colophon. "Gesta romanorum cum quibus aliis historiis eisdem annexis ad moralitates dilucide reducta hic finem habent. Que diligenter correctis aliorum viciis impressit Johannes de Westphalia &c."

No. 4. "Recollectorium ex gestis romanorum cum pluribus applicatis historiis."

No. 5. "Ex gestis romanorum hystorie notabiles collecte de viciis virtutibusque tractantes cum applicacionibus moralisatis et mysticis incipiunt fideliter." (sometimes feliciter.)

The colophon. "Ex gestis Romanorum cum pluribus applicatis hystoriis de virtutibus et viciis mystice ad intellectum transumptis recollectorii finis."

It is impossible to speak with certainty as to the first edition, on account of the omission of dates, places, and printers' names in some of the early copies. There are two editions so circumstanced, with the titles No. 1 and 2, in folio, and containing 152 chapters only. There is a third printed without date by Nicolas Ketelaer and Gerard de Leempt at Utrecht, in folio, with 152 chapters, to which Lambinet has inaccurately assigned the date of 1473.[118] One of these three is probably the first edition. They are all excessively rare, and a copy containing 152 chapters only would not easily be found in this country.

Of the editions without date, place, or printer, that contain 181 chapters, there are three, and perhaps more. One of these, in folio, is in the British Museum, but imperfect. It was certainly printed with the types used by Ulric Zell, about 1475. Two others, the one in folio, the other in quarto, were printed without date at Louvain, by John of Westphalia. He is said to have printed one edition with the date 1473; but this is probably a mistake copied from one book into another, as Lambinet assures us that the copy in the royal library at Paris has the above date, but in manuscript only.[119] The following editions with dates can be spoken of with more confidence.

1. 1480, no place, nor printer. In folio.
2. 1480, at Gouda, by Gerard Leeu. In folio.
3. 1481, at Hasselt, no printer. In folio.
4. 1482, no place, nor printer. In quarto. This is doubtful, being taken from a bookseller's catalogue.
5. 1488, no place, nor printer. In folio.
6. 1489, no place, nor printer. In folio.
7. 1489, at Strasburg, no printer. In folio.
8. 1490, at Gouda, by Gerard Leeu. In folio.
9. 1493, no place, nor printer. In folio.
10. 1494, no place, nor printer. In quarto.
11. 1494, at Louvain, no printer....
12. 1497, no place, nor printer. In quarto.
13. 1497, at Strasburg, by John Knoblouch. In quarto.
14. 1498, no place, nor printer. In folio.
15. 1499, no place, nor printer. In folio.
16. 1499, at Paris, no printer. In quarto.
17. 1506, at Paris, by Jean Petit. In 12mo.
18. 1508, at Hagenau, by Henry Gran. In folio.
19. 1509, at Paris, by Francois Regnault. In 12mo.
20. 1512, at Venice, no printer. In 12mo.
21. 1515, at Paris, by Jean Petit. In 12mo.
22. 1516, at Venice, by George de Rusconibus. In 8vo.
23. 1517, at Paris, no printer. In 12mo.
24. 1517, at Hagenau, by Henry Gran. In folio.
25. 1520, at Venice, by A. de Bindonis. In 8vo.
26. 1521, at Paris, by Jean Petit. In 12mo.
27. 1521, at Rouen....
28. 1555, at Lyons, no printer. In 12mo.

German Translation.—Of this only one edition has occurred, printed at Augsburg, by John Schopser, 1489, in folio.

Dutch Translation.—Two editions are mentioned, the one printed at Gouda, by Gerard Leeu, 1481, and the other at Zwollis, by Peter Van Os, 1484; both in folio.

French Translation.—It does not appear who was the author of the translation into this language, which is entitled Le violier[120] des hystoires Rommaines: moralisez sur les nobles gestes faitz vertueulx et anciennes chroniques de toutes nations de gens, fort recreatif et moral. It contains only one hundred and forty-nine stories. About the year 1516, Pierre Gringore, herald to the duke of Lorraine, and the author of several moralities and other works, published a book called Les fantasies de mere sote, which is only a translation in prose, intermixed with verse, of some twenty or thirty stories in the Gesta Romanorum, with their moralizations. He has suppressed all mention of his original, and insinuated in the privilege that he was himself the inventor. This work seems to have preceded the anonymous translation above mentioned, of which it is possible that Gringore might have likewise been the author. There is another French Gestes Romaines by Gaguin the historian, which has been mistaken for a translation of the Gesta; but it is nothing more than an extract from the history of the Roman republic. The editions of the Violier are, 1. without date, printed at Paris, by Philip Le Noir, in quarto; 2. 1521, printed at Paris, by Jean de la Garde, in folio; and 3. 1529, printed also at Paris, for Denis Janot, in quarto.

English Translation.—In 1703 was published a little volume entitled Gesta Romanorum: or Forty-five histories originally (as 't is said) collected from the Roman records, with applications or morals for the suppressing vice, and encouraging virtue and the love of God. Vol. I. newly and with care translated from the Latin edition, printed, A.D. M.D.XIV. This seems to be the first English translation, and the translator B. P. has remarked in his preface that most of the matters contained in his book had, as he understood, appeared already in the English tongue; and therefore he desires the reader, if he should discover a great difference in names, sense, and expression, to compare each work with the Latin copy, by which comparison he conceives it will be found that his translation is faithful. He was not aware that the preceding translation to which he alludes had been made from a different work. The stories are here extracted without attention to the original arrangement, but with a reference in each to the Latin copy. The editor, whoever he was, designed an extension of his labours to other volumes. Next followed an edition of the same work, without date, 18mo, but printed about 1720. It wants the references to the Latin copy, and the former preface is abridged. It contains fourteen additional stories that do not belong to the original Gesta. Of this another edition, with the language much altered, was printed in 1722, 18mo, with the same number of stories. The editor signs himself A. B., perhaps Bettesworth the printer.

It is now time to proceed to the description of another Gesta Romanorum, and which has indeed been the principal cause of the present dissertation. This work was undoubtedly composed in England in imitation of the other; and therefore it will be necessary for the future to distinguish the two works by the respective appellations of the original and the English Gesta.

It is remarkable that neither Mr. Tyrwhitt nor Mr. Warton, both of whom had frequent occasion to inspect the work in question, and to notice certain variations between what they have too loosely termed the printed copies and the manuscripts, should not have perceived that the latter were in reality a different performance. Mr. Tyrwhitt indeed, for want of this perception, has made use of certain English features in the manuscripts as an argument to prove that the original Gesta was composed in England.[121]

From the great celebrity of the original Gesta, it could not fail of being known to the English clergy, and accordingly we find that it was used by them in the pulpit as in other countries. If the numerous volumes of the sermons of the middle ages that still remain in our college and cathedral libraries were examined, a task by no means here recommended, it would, no doubt, be found, that they had been indebted to it among other similar authorities for many of their examples; and to show that this is not a mere conjecture, there is a collection of ancient sermons in the British Museum that affords a solitary instance of the introduction of a story from the original Gesta.[122] It is the thirty-ninth story, of two brothers at enmity with each other. Though anonymous, there is no doubt that these sermons were composed by some Englishman, who has cited a multitude of authors, and among other matters the well-known story of the Jew who refused to be delivered from a jakes into which he had fallen on the sabbath day.

It is natural to suppose that a work like the original Gesta would stimulate some person to the compilation of one that should emulate if not altogether supersede it; and accordingly this design was accomplished at a very early period by some Englishman, in all probability a monk. There is a considerable difficulty even in forming a conjecture as to the precise time in which this was done. One of the earliest manuscripts appears to have been written about the reign of Richard the Second, nor is there any internal evidence in this work that places its composition below that period. That its purpose was similar to that of the other is manifest from its being quoted no less than five times in a collection of sermons by a preacher at Magdalen college already mentioned, who has likewise introduced the moralizations generally in the very words of his original. If additional proofs were wanting of the English origin of the work before us, it might be stated, 1. That no manuscript of it appears to exist in any of the catalogues of continental libraries; whereas there are many in those of this country.[123] 2. That in one of the chapters there are some English verses,[124] and in another some English proper names.[125] 3. That it has a few English terms and modes of speech, as parliament, livery of seizin, &c.

The construction resembles that of the original Gesta, from which a great many stories have been retained; but these are always newly written, and sometimes materially altered. The moralizations are uniformly different, and the proper names generally changed. The best manuscripts contain one hundred and two stories, out of which there are upwards of forty that are not in the original work, none of which have been ever printed in the Latin of this Gesta, and but few of them in an English translation. The sources from which many of them were taken cannot easily be traced, whilst others are extracted from works that will hereafter be mentioned.

In the following analysis of the additional stories to this Gesta, the plan of Mr. Warton has been adopted. Though it should fail in exciting much pleasurable sensation in the reader, it may at least serve to throw a ray or two of light on the manners of the middle ages. The arrangement of the chapters is from MS. Harl. 2270, but the copy used is one of equal value in the author's possession. The variety in these is very inconsiderable.

Chap. i.—The emperor Anselmus bore a silver shield with five red roses. He had three sons equally beloved by him His continual wars with the king of Egypt had reduced him so low, that of all his temporal goods only a single tree remained. Being mortally wounded in one of his battles, he called his sons before him, and bequeathed to the eldest all that was under the earth and above the earth belonging to the tree; to the second, all that was great and small in it; and to the youngest, all that was wet and dry in it. On the king's death a dispute arose between his sons concerning the possession of the tree, which by mutual consent was referred for decision to the king of Reason. He caused all the young men to be bled, and ordered that a bone, taken from the breast of their dead father, should be dipped in the blood and afterwards washed. The blood of the two elder sons was easily discharged, but that of the youngest remained. The king declared that he was of the true blood and nature of the bone, and the others bastards; to him therefore the tree was adjudged.

Chap. ii.—The emperor Diocletian, desirous to know what bird had the greatest affection for its young, goes into a wood and returns to his palace with an ostrich's nest, which he places under a glass vessel. The dam follows him, and finding it impossible to get at her offspring, proceeds to a desert, where she remains thirty-four days, and then comes home with a worm called Thurnar; this she kills on the vessel, which being broken by the blood of the animal, her young ones are set at liberty. At this conduct of the bird Diocletian expresses much pleasure.

Chap. iv.—The emperor Gauterus, reflecting on the vanities of the world, resolves to find a situation where there is nothing but happiness. He leaves his kingdom, and meets a beautiful woman who had lost her husband. She offers him marriage, and abundance of wealth; but on inspecting the nuptial chamber, the emperor is startled and disgusted at the appearance of several serpents and a lion that threaten him with destruction. The lady informs him that he may possibly survive a night or two, but that the animals will afterwards devour him, as they had her husband. The emperor declines the honour of this marriage, and proceeds to another country, where the nobles are desirous to elect him king in the room of their deceased monarch; but finding a bedchamber like the former, he instantly departs, and arrives at a third place, where he is offered the kingdom on similar terms. At length he meets an old man, sitting near a ladder with three steps raised against a wall. He is interrogated as to his wishes, and answers that he sought three things, viz. joy without sorrow, abundance without want, and light without darkness. He is desired to ascend the ladder, when he finds what he had wished for, and continues on the spot during the rest of his life. This is, in substance, the 101st story in the other Gesta, but here related with much variety.

Chap. xviii.—A knight falls in love with Aglae, the daughter of the emperor Polentius, and being obliged to be absent in the Holy Land for seven years, the lady agrees not to marry till his return. In the mean time the emperor promises his daughter to the king of Hungary, who being deeply in love with her, consents, at her request, to postpone the marriage. On the day before the appointed time, the king of Hungary, riding to the emperor's court in great pomp to celebrate his nuptials, is met by the knight, with whom he enters into conversation, and a violent rain coming on, the king's fine clothes are presently spoiled. The knight remarks that he should have brought his house with him. The king is struck with the singularity of the admonition. They arrive at a deep water, and the king plunging in with his horse, is nearly drowned. The knight tells him that he should have brought his bridge with him. Shortly after the king inquires what time of day it is; his companion replies that it is time to eat, and offers a cake, which is accepted. He then observes to the king that he had acted unwisely in omitting to bring his father and mother with him. As they approach the emperor's palace, the knight requests leave of the king to take another road, meaning to get to the court by a nearer way that was known to him, and carry off the lady before the king should arrive. On being asked what road he intended to take, he declares he will speak the truth. He says, that on that day seven years he had spread a net in a certain place to which he was then going; that if he should find it broken he shall leave it, but if whole, that he shall take it with him. The king arrives at the palace, and is kindly entertained. The emperor interrogates him concerning the particulars of his journey, and on hearing the strange observations that the knight had made, commends him as a wise man, and informs the king that by the house he had meant nothing more than a cloak; that the bridge he talked of, signified the attendants who should have been sent before to ascertain the depth of the water; and that by the king's father and mother, he intimated the bread and wine that he should have brought with him. But when the emperor came to reflect on the meaning of the net which had been spread seven years since, he perceived that his daughter was in danger, and on commanding her chamber to be examined, found his suspicions verified. The king being deceived by the knight and the damsel, returned in disgrace to his own country.

Chap. xxi.—This is the story of king Lear under the name of Theodosius, emperor of Rome. It has been already given from the old English translation in manuscript. See page [420].

Chap. xxiv.—Antonius made a law at Rome, that whenever a fire happened in the city a sentinel should cry out to the people to ring all the bells, and secure the gates. A certain warrior was desirous of becoming master of the city, and, apprised of this law, consulted with his companions how it should be evaded. One advised that they should enter the city peaceably, and proclaim a general feast, at which a certain liquor should be used that would set all the guests asleep. The stratagem is adopted, the city fired, the inhabitants carried off, and not one person left to comply with the emperor's edict.

Chap. xxv.—A certain knight is unjustly accused before an emperor, who, when he finds that the accusation cannot be maintained, endeavours to perplex him with intricate questions, which he is obliged to answer on pain of death. Among these are, the distance of a sigh from the heart? the number of flaggons of salt water in the sea? the depth of it? which are the most honourable and poorest professions? &c. These are all answered satisfactorily, and the knight dismissed with commendation.

Chap. xxvi.—A sick emperor sends into a foreign country for the physician Averrhoes, who cures him of his disease. This excites the envy of three other physicians, and they resolve to effect his ruin. For this purpose they deceive him into a belief that he is become leprous, and he returns with great sorrow to the emperor, to acquaint him with his misfortune. Being offered all the consolation that the emperor can afford him, he requests that he may have the use of a bath made of goat's blood. By this remedy he is restored to health; and the emperor, wondering at the suddenness with which he had been attacked, is informed by Averrhoes that three leprous persons of his own profession had terrified him, and thereby communicated their disease. They are immediately punished with death.

Chap. xxvii.—Antony, emperor of Rome, is fond of chess. Playing once at this game, he observed that when the men were replaced as usual in the bag, the king was indiscriminately confounded with the rest of the pieces. This suggests to him his mortal state, and that he himself shall be eventually blended with others in the grave. He divides his kingdom into three parts; one he gives to the king of Jerusalem, another to his nobles, and the third to the poor. He then retires to the Holy Land to end his days in peace.

Chap. xxx.—The emperor Averrhoes proclaims a tournament, and that the conquerer shall marry his daughter after his decease. Decius, a knight who excelled in arms, had two infant sons. Hearing of the proclamation, he goes one morning into a forest where a nightingale was singing very sweetly. He expresses a wish to know the meaning of the song, and an old man, suddenly appearing to him, explains it. The bird had directed him to go to the tournament, but in his way thither he is to meet with some heavy misfortune, which he is recommended to support with constancy and patience, because, eventually, his sorrow is to be turned to joy. The old man then disappears, and the nightingale flies away. Decius returns home and acquaints his wife with the adventure. She advises him to go to the tournament with herself and children; and he had no sooner finished the preparations for his journey, than his house and all his goods are consumed by fire. Not discouraged, he embarks on board a vessel, and on his arrival in the country to which he was going, the captain of the ship demands the price of his passage. The knight confesses his present inability to comply with the requisition, but promises on his return from the tournament to satisfy him fully. The captain, who had in the meantime conceived an improper passion for the lady, demands her as an hostage, refusing an offer of the children. The poor knight, finding no remedy, affectionately takes leave of his wife, and departs in great sorrow with his children. The mariner in vain attempts the accomplishment of his purpose with the lady, and after having accompanied her to some strange country, dies. She is reduced to great misery, and obliged to beg her bread from door to door. The story then returns to the knight, who, proceeding in his journey to the emperor's palace, meets with a deep piece of water, which it was necessary to cross. Not being able to carry over both the children together, he leaves one of them on the ground. On his return for his child, a lion springs from a wood, seizes the infant before he could arrive at the spot, and carries it away. He endeavours in vain to pursue the ravisher, and at length goes back to his other child. But here again his ill fortune attends him; a bear had seized it, and was in the act of carrying it to a neighbouring forest. He now gives way to his grief, and exclaims bitterly against the nightingale and her song, but resolves to proceed to the tournament. Here he has better luck, and repeatedly carries away the prize. The emperor takes him into great favour, and places him at the head of his armies. Walking one day through a certain city, he finds a precious stone of three colours. On carrying it to a lapidary, he is informed that he possesses a great treasure; that the stone has the power of making the owner completely happy, of enabling him to find what he might have lost, and of converting his poverty into wealth, and his sorrows into joy. Soon afterwards he has occasion to raise troops for the emperor's service, and in the course of the war two young soldiers eminently distinguish themselves by their valour. As they are sitting one night at supper, they make inquiries of each other respecting their parents; and from certain matters that are detailed, they are recognized by their mother, who happens to be present. This discovery soon leads to that of their father, who is known by his wife, from a particular mark in his forehead. All the parties return to their own country, and end their days happily.

The burning of the knight's house, and the manner in which he was deprived of his children, have been borrowed from the romance of Sir Isumbras.[126]

Chap. xxxi.—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 might be committed, nor any thing 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 puts 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 meantime 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. 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 ground-work 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, Fabliaux 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 modification 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 Heywood's History of women under the title of The faire ladie of Norwich,[127] 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.[128] In the Bodleian library there is an old English poem entitled A merry jest of Dane Hew munk of Leicestre, and how he was foure times slain and once hanged. Printed at London by J. Allde, in 4to, without date. This is probably the same story, which has certainly been borrowed from one of those related by the Norman minstrels.[129]

Chap. xxxii.—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 a 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 into three pieces, and vowed a pilgrimage 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.[130]

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 Cilhart's grave.[131] 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 Gêlert, 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 Cilhart 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.

Chap. xxxvi.—A king having educated his three sons under a celebrated philosopher, interrogates each of them as to what kind of a God he should prefer; for it was the custom of the country that every man should make his own choice on this occasion. The eldest chooses Jupiter for his power, the second Jupiter also for his wisdom, the third Mercury for his piety and mercy. The king recommends a Deity who should unite all these properties, and who is compared to Jesus Christ, &c.

Chap. xlvi.—The emperor Alexander made a law that no man should turn a flat-fish on his plate, so as to eat the other side, under pain of death; it being nevertheless permitted him to ask three things before his execution. The son of an offender against this law saves his father's life by his ingenuity, and contrives to marry the emperor's daughter.

Chap. xlvii.—A law was made that if any child should die, or even be hurt by the negligence of the person to whose care it were committed, such person should suffer death. A knight requested as a reward for some services, that he might have the care of the king's son. This was accordingly granted, and the child delivered over to nurses. In their absence at a fair, a wolf entered the house and carried off the infant towards a wood. A shepherd gathering fruit in an orchard saw the affair and gave the alarm. The child was recovered, but not till it had received a bite that left a mark in its forehead. When the king had received back his son, he discovered the wound, and menaced the knight with the punishment of the law. The knight asserted that he was not a God, nor able to control the effect of nature. The king maintained that the mark was not natural, but produced by accident; and the knight at length confessed the fact, and threw himself on the king's mercy. He was only enjoined to do exclusive homage to the king, and taken into favour.

In the moral, God is the maker of the law. He delivers man's soul to him pure and unspotted, to be nourished in deeds of virtue. The ecclesiastics are the nurses, who instead of attending to their duty, frequent the worldly fairs of wickedness and vanity. The wolf is the devil, who seizes the soul and endeavours to precipitate it into hell; but the good preacher sitting in the arbour of the holy scriptures, gives the alarm, and delivers it from the clutches of the devil, &c.

Chap. xlviii.—This story has been given from the old English translation in manuscript, at the end of the notes to the Merchant of Venice. See p. [173].

Chap. xlix.—An emperor made a law that whoever violated a Virgin should lose both his eyes. His own son is found guilty of the crime, and the emperor, notwithstanding the entreaties of his nobles, enforces punishment, but consents to divide the loss of sight with the aggressor.

Chap. l.—This story is in the other Gesta, but differently related. A king on some domestic difference with his wife, had been told by her that one only of her three sons was legitimate; but which of them was so she refused to discover. This gave him much uneasiness; and his death soon afterwards approaching, he called his children together, and declared in the presence of witnesses, that he left a ring which had very singular properties to him that should be found to be his lawful son. On his death a dispute arose between the youths, and it was at length agreed to refer its decision to the king of Jerusalem. He immediately ordered that the dead body of the father should be taken up and tied to a tree: that each of the sons should shoot an arrow at it, and that he who penetrated the deepest should have the ring. The eldest shot first, and the arrow went far into the body; the second shot also, and deeper than the other. The youngest son stood at a distance, and wept bitterly; but the king said to him, "Young man, take your arrow and shoot as your brothers have done." He answered, "Far be it from me to commit so great a crime. I would not for the whole world disfigure the body of my father." The king said, "Without doubt you are his son, and the others only bastards; to you therefore I adjudge the ring."

This story has been entitled The judgment of Solomon, and is probably of oriental origin.[132] It is often represented in that illumination which in the ancient manuscripts of the French translation of the Bible by Guiars des Moulins is prefixed to the proverbs of Solomon, although the story itself does not occur in that bible, nor in the original commentary by Petrus Comestor. It appears to have been a great favourite in the middle ages, and was often related from the pulpit.[133] The original judgment of Solomon in the first book of Kings had probably reached the continent of India at some very early period, as it is imitated in the following story which occurs in one of the books belonging to the kingdom of Pegu. Two women went out together to bathe, each accompanied by her child. Whilst they were in the water, the children being left on the bank of the river, an alligator seized one of them and carried it away. A dispute arose between the women for the possession of the remaining infant, and they at length agreed to go before the judge. To determine the controversy, the judge ordered one of the women to lay hold of the child's head, and the other of its heels, and thus to pull for it. In the course of the struggle, the child was hurt, and cried out; one of the women instantly quitted her hold, and the other carried off the prize. The judge ordered her to be brought back, and told her that as she had manifested so little compassion for the sufferings of the child, she could not possibly be its mother. The infant was restored to the other woman.[134] There is another ingenious adjudication by the emperor Claudius, scarcely inferior to Solomon's. A woman had refused to acknowledge her son: and, the arguments on each side being doubtful, Claudius ordered that the parties should be married. The mother was compelled to a confession. See Sueton. in Claud. cap. 15.

Chap. li.—Archillaus, a Roman emperor of an elegant person and lofty stature, was desirous to have a shirt made by the hands of a pure and spotless virgin, in such a skilful and subtile manner as to prolong the duration of his life. After the strictest search no such virgin could be found; or at least, says the story, no female whose talents were competent to the task. Some time afterwards the emperor walking in his orchard, and meditating on the above matter, was accosted by a certain person who told him that he believed there was one young woman remaining in the country who was in all respects capable of performing what he desired. A messenger was immediately despatched by the emperor on this pleasing mission, with instructions to salute the lady most honourably on his part, and to present her with a particular piece of cloth three inches only in length and breadth, and to request that she would convert it into the shirt required; with a promise that if she succeeded, she should become his wife. The messenger faithfully executed his instructions; but when the damsel saw the cloth, she told him that it was impossible with such a quantity to make a shirt that would fit the emperor in the manner required, but undertook notwithstanding to make one according to the best of her ability. When the emperor heard the answer he sent a pure and handsome vessel to the lady, in which she manufactured a shirt that gave him satisfaction. He performed his promise and married her. This very silly and obscure story is allegorized into the miraculous conception of the Virgin Mary.

Chap. liv.—Is also in the other Gesta, but here related with much greater variety of circumstance, and in all respects improved. The story has been very properly termed by Mr. Warton, a beautiful one; but he has not been equally accurate in his statement that "Occleve has literally followed the book before us (i. e. the original Gesta,) and has even translated into English prose the moralisation annexed." Occleve's immediate model was our English Gesta; nor is it improbable that he might even be the translator of it; the moralisation also is entirely different.[135] Mr. Warton has omitted to notice that this story corresponds with that of Fortunatus; which, unless itself of oriental origin, might have been taken from it.[136]

Chap. lvi.—An emperor who had only a daughter, hunting one day in a forest, lost his way, and was obliged to seek shelter in the cottage of a forester. He was kindly and hospitably received, and after taking some refreshment, retired to rest without disclosing to the man who he was. As he lay in bed he thought he heard a voice that said to him, "take, take, take;" presently after, another that cried, "give, give, give;" and then a third that still more emphatically pronounced these words, "fly, fly, fly; for this night a child is born who shall succeed to your empire." When he arose in the morning, he inquired of the forester if any child had been born during the night, who informed him that his wife had just been delivered of a son. The emperor then discovered himself, examined a mark on the child's forehead, and told the man that he should send for it the next day, as he designed to have it bred up at his court. On his return home he directed some confidential servants to take away the child from the forester's cottage, to put it to death, and to bring back its heart, that he might be satisfied that his orders were obeyed. A contention arose among the domestics about destroying the infant,[137] and one more humane than the rest, proposed the killing of a pig in its stead, and delivering the heart to the king. This was at length acceded to by the others. The child was wrapped up in some linen, and placed in a hollow tree for present shelter. When the emperor received the supposed heart of the child he cast it into the fire, and mocked the idle dreams that had tormented him. Shortly after, as an earl was hunting in the above forest, the dogs discovered the child, which was taken home and committed to the care of the earl's wife, whom he prevailed on to acknowledge it as their own, and to give out that she had just been delivered of it. When thirteen years had elapsed from this time, the emperor proclaimed a great feast, to which, among others, the earl was invited, who carried the boy with him as a squire to attend his person. When the youth came into the presence of the emperor, the latter instantly perceived the mark on his forehead, and in great anger interrogated the earl so strictly that he confessed the manner in which he had discovered the child. But the emperor's indignation was still more excited against the servants whom he had employed. He sent for them and commanded them on their oaths to speak the truth. The emperor, now satisfied of the identity of the youth, informed the earl that he should retain him at his court, and that he himself was at liberty to return home. It happened that at this time the empress was in a foreign kingdom with her daughter. The emperor therefore sent the youth to her with a letter in which he commanded her to cause him to be put to death in the most cruel and ignominious manner. In the prosecution of his journey, the poor young man came to the castle of a knight whom he humbly entreated to afford him lodging; and being hospitably received, laid himself down to sleep, placing near him a box in which he had deposited the letter. The knight accidentally seeing the box, became anxious to know its contents; and having opened it immediately perceived the emperor's signet. This he very carefully put aside, and, reading the letter, was moved with compassion for the youth. He immediately resolved to save his life, and substituted another letter, in which the king was made to direct the empress to marry her daughter to the young man with great solemnity, and to detain him with her until he should himself arrive. This letter was delivered to the empress, and the supposed directions of the emperor complied with. The youth by his deportment engaged the affections of all. Some time afterwards the emperor resolved to visit the empress, and on his arrival she went out to meet him accompanied by her children. As soon as the emperor saw the young man, he again recognized him; and, beholding his wife with looks of fury and indignation, he demanded of her why she had omitted to obey his commands. She maintained that they had been obeyed by the marriage of the youth to their daughter, who then stood before him, and, as she perceived, with child. The anger of the emperor was now mitigated, and he exclaimed, "The will of the Lord be done, for I see it is in vain to oppose it." He saluted his children with great affection, and they succeeded happily to his throne.

Chap. lxii.—Cornelius seduces an emperor's daughter, murders her infant, and abandons her. The emperor expostulates to no purpose. He then proclaims a tournament in which the wicked knight is overcome. The princess is brought back to her father.

Chap. lxviii.—An emperor in his old age foolishly married a young wife, who carried on an intrigue with a certain knight. He resolved to make a journey to the Holy Land, and, setting out immediately, left his kingdom in the custody of the empress and his nobles. The captain of the ship in which he embarked, having received a large bribe for the purpose, threw the unfortunate emperor into the sea, and returned home with the news of his death, to the great joy of the wicked empress. The old monarch, who had been a good swimmer from his youth, fortunately reached an island which he found inhabited only by wild beasts. The third day after his arrival, he saw in a wood a young lion fighting with a strong and full-grown leopard; and compassionating the lion, who was nearly overpowered by his adversary, he drew his sword and killed the leopard. The grateful lion remained with him, and every day brought him as food some animal that he had hunted, which the emperor dressed by means of a fire that he contrived to make. After some time had elapsed, as he was one day walking on the shore, he perceived a ship, and making signals of distress, was taken on board. The faithful lion plunged after him into the sea, and swam by the side of the vessel, till some of the sailors, perceiving that he was exhausted with fatigue and about to sink, lifted him into the ship. On the emperor's arrival in his own kingdom he handsomely rewarded the captain, and proceeded to his palace accompanied by the lion. When he arrived there, he heard the sound of musical instruments, and perceived other demonstrations of joy. On inquiry he learned that the empress had been just married, and that his subjects believed he had perished in his voyage to the Holy Land. He then applied to one of the domestics of the palace to report him to the new emperor as a minstrel newly arrived, and to request that he might be permitted to entertain him with the tricks of his lion. He was ordered to appear before the new sovereign; whom the lion no sooner beheld than he instantly tore him in pieces, and immediately afterwards the empress. The nobles, astonished at what they saw, were now preparing to make their escape, when the emperor discovered himself, and desired them to lay aside their fear, as the vengeance of God had been accomplished. After relating his adventures, he reassumed his government.

Chap. lxx.—Josias, a warlike king, was married to the king of Apulia's daughter, who had vowed she would unite herself to that man only who had obtained the victory in all his battles. Walking one day in his garden he saw it written in a star, that he should undertake as many wars for the love of Christ as he had for that of his lady, to whom he communicated the vision. She was extremely afflicted at the news, and threatened to destroy herself and the infant in her womb, but was comforted by her husband with a promise of returning as soon as he had conquered all the enemies of Christ. He then departed in company with Tirius, a valiant knight to whom he was attached, and they shortly arrived in Ethiopia. The king desired his friend to remain there, and subdue the country, whilst he should accomplish other conquests. Tirius requested of the king that he would send him occasional tidings of himself, and directions how to act in his absence. This was promised; and the knight received at the same time a ring from his master, as a pledge whereby to remember him. The king took his departure, and went to the Holy Land. In his absence a certain tyrant named Acharon, made war against Tirius; and finding it impossible to subdue him, accused him of treason to the king of Ethiopia, who deprived him of all his possessions, so that he became very poor and was obliged to beg his bread. Josias soon afterwards returned from the Holy Land to Ethiopia, in the character of a pilgrim, and by chance met Tirius, whom he immediately recognized, but remained himself unknown. He put many questions to his friend, who related to him his misfortunes, and added, that he was in daily expectation of the speedy return of his own sovereign, whose token he still preserved, and whom he described as the better half of his soul. Josias told him that he had travelled far on account of the love he also bore to the same person; that he was exceedingly fatigued, and requested of him to sit down that he might repose his head on his bosom. Tirius answered, that he would do this and much more for him. Whilst Josias was asleep, a white weasel issued from his mouth, and proceeding towards a mountain, walked round it. It then returned, and again entered the mouth of the king. Tirius wondered much at this, and when the king awoke was interrogated as to what he had seen. Josias, on being informed, said, "Let us go to the mountain, perhaps we may behold more wonders." On their coming to a hollow place in the mountain, they found a dragon lying dead, with a large quantity of gold in his belly, and a sharp sword, on which was inscribed, "By my power, and with the king's assistance, the knight Tirius shall once more possess his lands." Josias then discovered himself to his friend, who fell on the ground and kissed his feet. The king gave all the gold to Tirius, but reserved the sword for himself, and commanded the knight not to disclose who he was until they should have accomplished their purpose. Josias then proceeded in his pilgrim's habit to the king's palace, where he found the tyrant Acharon, and sat himself down before the largest table. The king inquired of him whence he came and what tidings he brought. The pilgrim answered, "I come from the Holy Land, where many persons recommend your soul to Christ for having despoiled a worthy knight of his lands on the lying accusation of a tyrant." Acharon then exclaimed, "Why hast thou uttered these things? I would thou wert able to defend thyself, that I might fight with thee." The pilgrim requested leave to accept the challenge, which the king granted, and promised that if he obtained the victory he should not only receive all the lost lands of the knight, but be made the second man in his kingdom. The day of battle was appointed, and the combatants respectively maintained the contest with considerable valour. At length Acharon, exhausted with fatigue, was about to yield, when he said to the pilgrim, "You are doubtless a generous adversary, I die with thirst; suffer me to go once to the river and drink." The pilgrim acquiesced on the like conditions for himself. When Acharon had quenched his thirst, his strength returned; he renewed the combat with vigour, and Josias, in his turn, sorely pressed, requested permission to drink. His treacherous enemy not only refused him, but compelled him to fight his way to the water, into which he plunged and assuaged his thirst. Having recovered his strength, the battle was continued till the evening; and when Acharon was once more about to yield the victory, the king parted the combatants, and appointed the next day to renew the battle. At night the king sent for the pilgrim, commended his valour, and desired his daughter to take him under her care, and provide him with all necessaries, that he might be able to maintain the combat on the following day. The damsel then led him to a chamber, bathed him,[138] prepared his supper, and afterwards placed him in a bed with four feet, so that it could be easily moved from place to place. In the mean time Acharon called together his four sons, all of them robust young men; told them of the danger his life would be in if he should renew the contest with the pilgrim on the ensuing day, and prevailed with them to seize him in his chamber whilst he slept, and throw him into the sea. It happened that a fisherman from his vessel perceived by the light of the moon the floating bed, and to his great astonishment a man lying upon it. Josias also awoke, and wondered much at seeing the stars over his head. The fisherman cried out to the king, and the king to him for assistance, telling him he was the person who had the day before been engaged in combat with the tyrant. The fisherman took him on board his vessel, and afterwards to his dwelling, where he was again put to bed. On the morrow Acharon armed himself and went to the palace, exclaiming aloud, "Bring forth the traitor pilgrim, that I may this day present his head to our lord the king." When the princess was ordered by her father to awake the pilgrim, she was astonished to find him gone, together with the bed; and when the king heard the strange news he was much grieved, for he loved the pilgrim, and detested the tyrant. The fisherman at length appeared and related what had happened. Josias returned to the palace, armed himself, once more attacked his adversary, who was by this time quite dejected, and cutting off his head, presented it to the king. He was then desired to name the reward that he wished for, when he requested that the lands which Tirius had acquired by his valour might be again restored to him. Josias afterwards took leave of his friend, returned to his own kingdom, and ended his days in peace.[139]

Chap. lxxi.—An emperor committed the education of his only son to one of his knights, who had obtained a victory at a tournament. The child was placed in a chamber, round which the seven liberal sciences were depicted, so that when he lay awake in bed he could be gathering all kinds of knowledge. Near the bed was a fountain, in which the child could bathe, and beyond the fountain a window to admit the sun. It happened that a bear, finding the door open, entered the chamber and washed himself in the fountain, so that the water was much infected with his filth. The knight and his wife soon afterwards drank of the fountain, and became leprous. An eagle also flew in at the window, and carried off the king's son. At length a skilful physician was consulted, who cured the parties of their leprosy, and instructed them how to recover the child.

Chap. lxxii.—A king hears the song of a nightingale. He is desirous of knowing what it means; and, applying to a wise knight, is informed that it directs him to seek three things, viz. joy without sorrow, abundance without want, and light without darkness. The king sets out in pursuit of them, and arrives in a kingdom where the sovereign was just dead, leaving his throne to his sister. She becomes enamoured of the royal traveller and offers him marriage. Here the story is discontinued, but the narrator refers to chap. iv. as containing the same matter.

Chap. lxxvii.—In the castle of an emperor was a fountain, the water of which had the property of curing drunkenness. To this vice, which the emperor particularly detested, one of his knights, named Ydronicus, was much addicted; but whenever he perceived the consequences of his intemperance, he repaired to the fountain, and drinking a hearty draught, recovered himself in such a manner that the emperor, who was extremely attached to him, had never yet discovered his failing. It happened that the emperor had found a bird in his forest which sang so sweetly, that, being fond of melody, he repaired daily to the spot to hear it. The particular attention which the emperor bestowed on these two favourites had excited the envy of his courtiers, among whom one wiser than the rest at length undertook their ruin. He first sealed up the fountain, so that when Ydronicus next became intoxicated he was deprived of his usual remedy; and the emperor, perceiving his condition, was filled with indignation, and instantly decreed his banishment. The insidious courtier then repaired to the forest; and watching attentively the motions of the bird, perceived that her mate often came to visit her, but that in his absence she committed infidelities with strange birds, and then bathing herself in an adjacent well, deceived her mate on his return. He therefore closed up the well, and the unfaithful bird being soon detected by her mate, he tore her to pieces. The latter part of this story seems borrowed from the last chapter of the original Gesta.

Chap. lxxviii.—A law was made at Rome, that no man should marry for beauty, but for riches only; and that no woman should be united to a poor man, unless he should by some means acquire wealth equal to her own. A certain poor knight solicited the hand of a rich lady, but she reminded him of the law, and desired him to use the best means of complying with it, in order to effect their union. He departed in great sorrow, and after much inquiry, was informed of a rich duke who had been blind from the day of his birth. Him he resolved to murder, and obtain his wealth; but found that he was protected in the day-time by several armed domestics, and at night by the vigilance of a faithful dog. He contrived however to kill the dog with an arrow, and immediately afterwards the master, with whose money he returned to the lady. He informed her that he had accomplished his purpose; and being interrogated how this had been done in so short a space of time, he related all that had happened. The lady desired, before the marriage should take place, that he would go to the spot where the duke was buried, lay himself on his tomb, listen to what he might hear, and then report it to her. The knight armed himself, and went accordingly. In the middle of the night he heard a voice saying, "O duke, that liest here, what asketh thou that I can do for thee?" The answer was, "O Jesus, thou upright judge, all that I require is vengeance for my blood unjustly spilt." The voice rejoined, "Thirty years from this time thy wish shall be fulfilled." The knight, extremely terrified, returned with the news to the lady. She reflected that thirty years were a long period, and resolved on the marriage. During the whole of the above time the parties remained in perfect happiness.

When the thirty years were nearly elapsed, the knight built a very strong castle, and over one of the gates, in a conspicuous place, caused the following verses to be written:

"In my distress, religion's aid I sought;
But my distress reliev'd, I held it nought.
The wolf was sick, a lamb he seem'd to be;
But health restor'd, the wolf again we see."

Interrogated as to the meaning of these enigmatical lines, the knight at once explained them by relating his own story, and added that in eight days time the thirty years would expire. He invited all his friends to a feast at that period; and when the day was arrived, the guests placed at table, and the minstrels attuning their instruments of music, a beautiful bird flew in at the window and began to sing with uncommon sweetness. The knight listened attentively, and said, "I fear this bird prognosticates misfortune." He then took his bow, and shot an arrow into it in the presence of all the company. Instantly the castle divided in two parts, and, with the knight, his wife, and all who were in it, was precipitated to the lowest depth of the infernal regions. The story adds, that on the spot where the castle stood, there is now a spacious lake, on which no substance whatever floats, but is immediately plunged to the bottom.

Chap. lxxix.—The emperor Miremius had an only son, on whose birth the wise men being consulted as to his future destiny, declared that he would not live except he were brought up for seven years under ground, where the light of the sun could never come. This was accordingly done; and at the expiration of the time the young prince was taken out of his subterraneous confinement, and became the admiration of all men for his virtues and good disposition. In due time he was married to a daughter of the king of Hungary. At each corner of the nuptial bed was placed a little dog to watch, and near it a burning lamp, which by the emperor's special command was to be lighted only by the hands of a pure virgin. The prince coming one night into the chamber found the lamp extinguished, and made a solemn vow that he would never more enter the bed until the lamp were rekindled; but after many inquiries no virgin could be found for the purpose. The prince determined to make search himself, and taking affectionate leave of his wife, proceeded on his expedition. He presently overtook a lion, whose foot had been wounded by a thorn, which he extracted, and the animal followed him. Arriving at the castle of a king who had a virgin daughter, the prince fell in love with and demanded her in marriage. The king consented, on condition that he would destroy a horrible dragon, who had nearly devoured all the sheep and oxen in the country, and for whose future supply it would soon be necessary to draw lots in the king's own family. The prince agreed to the proposal, and waited till the period arrived when the lot had fallen on the king's daughter. He then became exceedingly terrified, but ventured to attack the dragon, who was on the point of destroying him, when the lion came to his assistance, and speedily killed his adversary. The virgin was delivered to the prince, who took her home to his wife. The lamp was rekindled, to the great joy of the parties, and the virgin treated with all possible kindness and attention. The dog and the lamp in this story are introduced in chap. i. of the other Gesta, but the tales have nothing else in common.

Chap. lxxx.—There was a law at Rome, that every woman at her purification should write some words on the church door, for the edification of the people, and then return home with due solemnity. The empress on this occasion writes, "I am a king governing the age; all the world is mine." Some time afterwards a noble lady attended by several musicians comes to be purified. She inscribes on the door, "I am an infant at the breast whose milk is wine," and returns home to prepare a feast. The empress is much offended, and sends for her. She procures two serpents, and compels the lady to suckle them, &c. The substance of this story is incorporated with the old ballad of "A warning piece to England, or the fall of queen Eleanor."[140]

Chap. lxxxi.—A city is infested with dragons and other venomous animals that destroy the inhabitants. A philosopher advises the emperor to hang a live lion on a cross, and thus terrify the other creatures from molesting the city.

Chap. lxxxii.—A law was made, that if any one could escape from prison and fly to the king's palace he should receive protection. An imprisoned knight is visited by a bird, who leaves a precious stone, by the touch of which his fetters are loosed and he escapes, &c.

Chap. lxxxiv.—A dispute arose between the three sons of an emperor respecting the succession. The nobles decided that they should run a race on horseback, and that he whose horse neighed should inherit the throne. A cunning servant of one of the princes contrived that his master should win, by placing in the horse's way a mare that he remembered. This is the well-known story of Darius.

Chap. xc.—Of a law that whoever violated a virgin without making atonement to her father within a certain time should suffer death.

Chap. xcii.—Of a madman who tore his flesh every day, and was poisoned by his father.

Chap. xciii.—An empress falls in love with a young knight; and becoming extremely sick, the physicians inform her husband that there is no mode of cure, but the bathing her with the knight's blood.

Chap. xciv.—A poor man is promoted by an emperor to great honours, but soon becomes proud, and rebels against his sovereign. He is banished with his accomplices. These invite their successors to a poisoned banquet. The emperor is recommended by his son to apply to a damsel who possesses a well with miraculous powers. By means of its water the dead men are restored to life. The prince is rewarded with a crown of gold.

Chap. xcvii.—Jonathas, having contrived to keep fire and water in his house, at a time when his fellow citizens had been plundered of them by a tyrant named Eulopius, is rewarded by having the education of the emperor of Rome's son committed to him. He builds a chamber for the young prince, and causes various images and inscriptions to be placed in it, which keep him attentive to his charge. He is finally promoted to great honour.

Chap. xcviii.—The emperor Martin had brought up his nephew Fulgentius as his page and cup-bearer; but his steward soon became envious of the young man, and resolved to effect his ruin. For this purpose he prevailed on the emperor to believe that Fulgentius had ungratefully circulated many ill reports of him, and particularly that he was leprous to such a degree that it was unsafe to approach his person or administer his drink to him. He then went to the young man, related to him that the emperor had made great complaint of the foulness of his breath, and advised him, when he performed the duties of his office, to take special care to turn his head aside. The innocent Fulgentius pursued this insidious counsel, and, the emperor's anger being excited, he struck his nephew violently on the breast, and drove him from his presence. He then consulted with the steward how he should deprive the youth of life; and it was settled that some men who lived near at hand, and kept a furnace to burn stones for cement, should immediately be directed to throw into their fire, without the least ceremony, that person who should come early on the morrow, and desire them to fulfil the emperor's commands. Measures were then taken that Fulgentius should be the victim; but in his progress to the lime-kiln he was induced by the sound of a church bell to deviate from his road, and attend the celebration of the mass. During the service he fell asleep, and when it was finished no efforts of the priest could for a very considerable time awake him. In the meanwhile the steward, solicitous to hear of the young man's death, repaired to the spot, and inquiring if the emperor's commands had been executed, was seized by the workmen, who, in spite of all his entreaties and remonstrances, threw him into the furnace. Fulgentius himself soon afterwards arrived, delivered his message, and was surprised to hear of the steward's death, and the miraculous manner in which he himself had escaped. He then returned thanks to God for his preservation, and went back to the palace. The emperor in great anger demanded why he had not executed his commands. Fulgentius related what had happened, and this leading to a mutual explanation, he was restored to his uncle's favour, and ended his days honourably. This story may have come from the East.[141] It is likewise extremely well related in the Contes devots or Miracles of the Virgin,[142] and in other places.[143]

Chap. xcix.—A marriage was proposed between the son of Anselmus, emperor of Rome, and the daughter of the king of Apulia. The young lady in her voyage was shipwrecked and swallowed by a whale. In this situation she contrived to make a fire and to wound the animal with a knife, so that he was driven towards the shore, and slain by an earl named Pirius, who delivered the princess and took her under his protection. On relating her story she was conveyed to the emperor. In order to prove whether she was worthy to receive the hand of his son, he placed before her three vessels. The first was of gold, and filled with dead men's bones; on it was this inscription; who chuses me shall find what he deserves. The second was of silver filled with earth, and thus inscribed; who chuses me shall find what nature covets. The third vessel was of lead, but filled with precious stones. It had this inscription; who chuses me shall find what God hath placed. The emperor then commanded her to chuse one of the vessels, informing her that if she made choice of that which should profit herself and others, she would obtain his son; if of what should profit neither herself nor others, she would lose him. The princess after praying to God for assistance, preferred the leaden vessel. The emperor informed her that she had chosen as he wished, and immediately united her with his son. This is obviously the story which had supplied the caskets in the Merchant of Venice. See the note at the end of that play, p. 169.

Chap. c.—A king hunting in a forest loses his attendants, and is left alone. He meets a lame lion, who stretches out his foot to him, as if soliciting assistance. The king, perceiving a thorn, extracts it, and binds up the wound with certain herbs. Finding no way out of the wood, he is obliged to take shelter in the lion's den, where he is supplied with food by the grateful animal. After remaining here some time a bear comes to the den. The rest of the story will not admit of being told. What has been stated is evidently grafted on the well-known tale of Androcles.

Chap. ci.—A certain emperor made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, leaving the care of the kingdom in his absence to his wife, a wise and beautiful woman. The emperor's brother not only oppressed and persecuted many of his subjects, but had even the temerity to make unlawful love to the empress. On consulting with her counsellors, they advised her to cast him into prison, which was accordingly done. Here he lay until rumours were spread of the emperor's intended return; and fearing that if his unworthy conduct were reported to his brother he should be sentenced to die, he entreated mercy of the empress, and made such solemn promises of future good behaviour that she consented to release him. On the emperor's arrival, his wife and brother went out to meet him; but in passing through a forest, a stag springing up, diverted the attention of the domestics who accompanied them, and they were left entirely by themselves. The wicked brother now renewed his solicitations to the empress; but receiving from her the most positive refusal of compliance, and menaced with the vengeance of her husband, he inhumanly tied her by the hair to a tree, leaving her palfrey by the side of her. He then rejoined the attendants, and pretended that a multitude of armed men had attacked him and carried off the empress. Shortly afterwards the unfortunate lady was discovered by an earl who was hunting in the forest, taken home to his castle, and by her own consent appointed to superintend the care of his infant daughter. Here a certain seneschal fell in love with her, but his addresses being rejected, he determined on speedy revenge. For this purpose he contrived to get into the castle at night, and proceeding to the earl's chamber, found the empress in bed and asleep with the child. After murdering the infant, he placed the bloody knife in the empress's hand. During the night the earl's wife awoke, and perceiving by the light of the lamp what had happened, accused the empress of the murder in the most bitter terms, and entreated her husband to inflict immediate punishment. The earl, however, thought fit to spare the empress's life, and contented himself with dismissing her from his castle. The poor lady mounted her palfrey, and had not proceeded far, when she met a robber going to execution. Her compassion led her to ransom the man by means of a sum of money; and, depending on his gratitude, she sent him before her to the next city to provide lodging and other necessaries. All the inhabitants of the place admired her beauty, and many persons in vain solicited her love. It happened that a ship arrived in the harbour of this city laden with merchandize, and the empress despatched her servant to the captain, requesting him to attend her for the purpose of negociating for the articles she might want. The captain came, received her orders, and promised to send the goods; but he was also captivated with the beauty of the empress, and desired her servant to follow him. He then offered the man a large reward to assist him in getting his mistress on board the vessel, that he might thus have her in his power, and carry her away. The fellow consented; and, telling his lady that the captain would only permit his merchandize to be examined on board the ship, prevailed on her to accompany him thither, and she immediately became a prisoner. The vessel sailed, the commander earnestly pressed his unlawful solicitations, and threatened death in case of refusal. The empress requested a short respite, and addressed her prayers to heaven for assistance. A tempest instantly arose, the ship sunk to the bottom, and all perished except the empress and the captain. Each of them had clung to a piece of timber, but they were cast on different shores; and the empress, without her knowledge, on that of her own country. Here she soon found shelter in a convent, and applying herself to the study of healing the sick, soon became so skilful that her fame spread throughout the land. About this time the emperor's wicked brother had become a loathsome leper; the earl whose daughter had been killed was blind and paralytic; the treacherous servant became lame and gouty, and otherwise diseased; and the master of the ship had lost his reason. When the emperor heard of the lady's skill in curing diseases, he accompanied his brother to the convent, where the others had also come to be healed. The empress, preserving her disguise, informed them that she had no power of relieving them unless they previously, and in the presence of each other, made a fall and solemn confession of their sins, and repented of them sincerely. This was accordingly done; and when the innocence of the empress was clearly manifested, to the great and mutual surprise of all the parties, she first performed her promise to the sick, and then discovered herself to the emperor. He conducted her to the palace with much joy, and they finished their days happily.

Occleve has related this story in verse from the present work,[144] and it is also to be found in the Patrañas of Timoneda.[145] The outline has been borrowed from one of the Contes devots, or miracles of the Virgin Mary.[146] The incident of the bloody knife occurs likewise in Chaucer's Man of law's tale, and in a story related by Gower.[147]

The author of this Gesta has been nowhere recorded; but it may be necessary on this occasion to lay before the reader part of a note prefixed to the Merchant of Venice, in which Dr. Farmer has corrected one mistake, but inadvertently fallen into another. He says, "In a MS. of Lidgate, I find a tale of two marchants of Egipt and of Baldad, ex Gestis Romanorum. Leland therefore could not be the original author as Bishop Tanner suspected. He lived a century after Lidgate." The inference is perfectly just; but the suspicion was not Bishop Tanner's, who has only retailed that of another writer, Richard Robinson, and he in reality seems to have regarded Leland merely as a translator, as will presently appear.[148] Dr. Farmer had been deceived by the mode of printing Robinson's words, which have much the appearance of belonging to the bishop. There would have been more probability in a conjecture that either Walleis or Bromyard might have been the fabricator of the English Gesta. The moralizations to Ovid's metamorphoses, which the former of these persons composed, adapt him extremely well to the purpose; but though the date of his existence is, on the whole, uncertain, he seems to have lived about half a century too early, viz. towards the beginning of the fourteenth century.[149] From what has already been said of Bromyard, it will appear that he was no less qualified than the other for the authorship of the work in question.

Translation.—As this work was not circulated in foreign countries, no translation of it appears to have been made in any other language than the English; and in that, not of the whole. There is a very fine manuscript in the Harleian collection, written in the reign of Henry the Sixth, containing seventy stories only.[150] In this manuscript are several pieces by Lydgate, and some tales from Gower's Confessio amantis. As the English Gesta appears to have been extremely well known to both these writers, and also to Occleve, it is by no means improbable that the above translation was made by one or the other of them. Whether it has ever been printed is another question. Mr. Warton has twice mentioned an addition without date by Wynkyn de Worde;[151] and Dr. Farmer has also, in a note prefixed to the Merchant of Venice, referred to the same edition. It had escaped the researches of the industrious Herbert, who has only mentioned it after Mr. Warton,[152] and has in vain been sought for on the present occasion. The fortunate possessor of it may have the means of ascertaining whether it be the same as the above manuscript, by referring to the stories that have been given in the present volume at the end of the remarks on the plays of King Lear, and the Merchant of Venice.

Among the manuscripts in the Royal Library, now in the British Museum, there is one entitled "Eupolemia; Archippus and Panoplia; that ys to say. His good warrfare agenst Satan and his malignant spirites; his good soldyer agenst the flesh, the lustes and concupiscences therof: And his complet harness agenst the worlde and the wickednes and wretchednes therof. Conteyning a true catalogue of all his pore paynefull laboures, translated, collected, allso printed and published and præsented in English, by authority. Shewyng allso what good Benifactors hee hathe had, for meyntenance of his sayde pore study and peine, and what hynderances hee hathe had othirwyse from the yeare of oure Savyour Christe 1576, untill this yeare 1602, for 26 yeares. Newly written oute to the glory of God, honour of the Queenes most excellent Majesty, comfort of the faythfull and convertion or subvertion of their enemyes. By R. Robinson, London." This strange work has a great number of scriptural quotations in Latin and English, in the several margins. The dedication is here given for its singularity. "Sacrosanctæ beatæque Trinitati, simulque serenissimæ ac pientiss. regis majestati sacrum. Pro relevio professionis Christianæ ac remedio oppressionis inhumanæ. Cum impressione presentis codicilli." Then follows a dedication to Queen Elizabeth, made up of scraps from the sacred writings, and from Tibullus, Ovid and Juvenal; next, another to King James, entirely scriptural and in Latin verse. Afterwards we have a list of the author's works, which he divides into three columns, the first containing their titles, the second the allowance and printing, and the third patrons and benevolences. Among these is the following: "1577. A record of ancyent historyes intituled in Latin Gesta Romanorum, translated (auctore ut supponitur Johane Leylando antiquario) by mee perused corrected and bettered. Perused further by the wardens of the stationers and printed first and last by Thomas Easte in Aldersgate streete 6 tymes to this yeare 1601,[153] cont. 21 shetes. Dedicated for 5 impressions to the R. honorable Lady Margaret Countess of Lyneux, who gave me for her booke 13s. 4d. besydes sale of 25 boks. Dedicated last to the wardens of the Lether sellers,[154] who with others have given mee xxs. Dedicated last of all anno 1602 to D. Watson B. of Chichester and B. Almoner to the Queenes Majesty who, (not so thankfull to mee as I deserved) gave me but ijs. for my booke dedicatory."[155] If Leland made any translation of the Gesta, it must have been that printed by Wynkyn de Worde, which Robinson perhaps alludes to, when he says that he had perused bettered and corrected the work; for it is very clear that the older translation in the Harleian manuscript was not known to him.

Manuscripts.—Of these many are still remaining. They are, in general, written during the reigns of the Fifth and Sixth Henries, though one or two appear to be as old as that of Richard the Second. As the work was a great favourite, many of the stories are found in some of those miscellaneous volumes, which, in all probability, constituted the private libraries of the monks. If these were carefully examined, there is no doubt that many might be added to the following, necessarily imperfect, list:—

IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

1.	Harl. 206.	37. 47. contains	26 stories.
2.	219.		15 stories.
3.	406.		37 stories.
4.	2270.		102 stories.
5.	3132.		81 stories.
6.	5259.		101 stories.
7.	5369.		43 stories.
8.	Sloane, 4029.		95 stories.
9.	Bibl. Reg. 8 F. vi.

AT OXFORD.

10.	Bodl. 986.	or B. 3. 10.
11.	2760.	or MS. sup. O. i. Art. 17.
12.	3826.	but query?
13.	Coll. Lincoln. lib.	theolog. 60.
14.	Magdal. 3.
15.	60.
16.	Joh. Bapt. C. 1.
17.	G. 48.

18.	Worcester Cathedral. 80.
19.	Hereford Cathedral. 74.
20.	MSS. Rob. Burscough, 82, in Catal. MSS. Angliæ.
21.	MSS. Symonds D'Ewes, 150. Catal. MSS. Angliæ.
22.	Trin. Coll. Dublin, G. 326.
23.	In the author's possession. 101 stories.
24.	Ibid. 50 stories.
25.	Ibid. 34 stories.

Printed Editions.—It has been already stated that the Latin copy of this work has never been printed. The following are all translations into English, No. 1 may be that ascribed to Leland; the rest are by Robinson.

1. No date, printed by Wynkyn de Worde....
2. 1577. T. East. From Robinson's Eupolemia, as above.
3. 1595. T. East. 12mo. In the author's possession. Contains 43 stories.
4. No date. R. Bishop. 12mo.
5. No date. Stansby. 12mo.
6. 1648. R. Bishop. 12mo. 44 stories.
7. 1663. J. B. for A. Crook. 12mo.
8. 1668. A. J. for A. Crook. 12mo. 44 stories.
9. 1672. E. Crowch, for A. Crook. 12mo.
10. 1689. for T. Bassett, &c. 12mo. 44 stories.
11. 1703. for R. Chiswell. 12mo. The same as that of 1668.