PART IV.
A young curate, with more pertness than wit or learning, being asked in company, how he came to take it into his head to enter into the ministry of the church? Because, said he, the Lord hath need of me. That may be, replied George, who was present, for I have often heard that the Lord had once need of an ass.
After this, George being sent with the British ambassador into Italy, by the way of Paris; and as they were viewing the beautiful statues, and large buildings of that spacious city: the King, and many of his nobles in company, as they were walking through the King’s garden, among the images of the saints, they came to the image of the virgin Mary, who stood in a melancholy posture with the babe in her arms, one of the noblemen says to the British ambassador, don’t you think but she looks as she were angry? O yes, says George, she’s angry when she sees Englishmen and Frenchmen in friendship and unity one with another. No, no, said the French king she loves nothing better than the reconciliation of enemies; peace and unity is her delight. Then George gets in below the statue, and looks up; O, says George, I know what is the matter now, some body has driven a great nail in her arse, I see the head of it sticking out, it would vex any living be’s a piece of wood. At this the king was greatly enraged against George for saying so, for calling her a piece of wood; and nothing would satisfy the King, unless that George would fall down and worship the Virgin Mary, and crave mercy of her for the blasphemous reproaches wherewith he hath reproached her. Then George cries out, O may it please your majesty to omit it at this time, I dare not look her in the face, she frowns on me with such an angry countenance, this dutiful command of your’s must be delayed until I return from Italy, and then I shall fulfill your demand, in paying all dutiful respects and worship unto her, according to what she is. So here the ambassador stood bound for George, that he should perform this piece of worship at his return, according to the king’s pleasure.
Now, during their stay in Italy, they chanced to be in a nobleman’s house where they kept but few servants, because of a spirit that did haunt the house for the space of 200 years before that time, so that no servant could work any kind of labour in or about the house for it, except cooks, for what they vulgarly called a Brownie, it did all itself, and would suffer no fellow labourer to work along with it. On the next morning, George got up pretty early, called for water to wash himself; then directly comes the Brownie with a bason of water in the one hand, and a clean cloth in the other. George perceiving him having such a pale ghostly countenance, not to be an earthly creature said, of what nation art thou? To which it answered in Galic or Earse, a countryman of yours, Sir. The ambassador smiled, and joked George, telling him, it was a devil, and how could it be a countryman of his? O, says George, I’ll show you the contrary of that, for the devil dare not stay in our country, George having washed himself, it came again to take away the bason and water; then says George, and how long is it since you left your own country? About 250 years ago, says it. Then certainly, says he, thou art a devil, and not an earthly creature. To which he answered,
I am what I am, and a Christian too.
Then I am what I am to conjure you. (says George.)
He taking a handful of water, and throwing it on the old withered face of it, repeating the form of the words of baptism of Earse; saying, if thou be a Christian, thou art old enough now to be baptized. No sooner had he done this, but it went off weeping and crying, O! let never a rogue put trust in his countryman after me. Now, says George, I told you the devil dare not stay in my country, nor yet look a Scotsman in the face in his own. Why, says the Italian lord, do you imagine, that this is the devil’s own country? It appears so says George, for he is the oldest residenter in it I know; but my lord, said he, and if it please your grace, I think the clergymen are very scant in this country, when you have kept the devil so long for a chaplain. The nobleman unto this gave no answer, but expressed his sorrow to be very great for the loss of his Brownie.
Now the ambassador having done his business in Italy they returned homeward, and on their way, the ambassador began to question George how he thought to escape Paris without committing idolatry. No, no, says George, I never did worship any image, nor never shall; but I shall make them worship the worst that is in my guts. No sooner were they arrived in Paris, but George leaves the ambassador, and goes directly to the Virgin Mary, jumps in over the rail to the holy ground (as they termed it) whereon she stood, where few durst go but priests and friars; and there he loosed his breeches, and made such a groaning, easing himself, that he was heard at a distance by the priests and friars who were walking near by, and they perceiving this heinous abomination, ran upon him like a pack of hounds, and carried him before the cardinals and Father confessors, where he was allowed to speak for himself, which he did as follows—May it please your most excellent Worships to hear my reasons, before you pronounce my sentence to be put in execution against me. It was my fortune to be passing through this city a few months ago, with the British ambassador, on our way to Italy; and one day being walking in the kings garden in presence of the king, and many of his nobles, who can bear witness to the truth of the same; I being ignorant of your traditions and rites of religion, foolishly offended, reproaching the Virgin Mary to her face; and ever since she has plagued me with a boundness in my belly, that I have voided nothing but clean hach; so now on my return I went and implored her to open my fundament, and she has done so; I being overjoyed at the miraculous healing, in getting passage in her presence, I left it as a memorial of the miracle in that place. When hearing this, they all with one consent, lifted up their hands and blessed the Virgin Mary for the wonderful miracle she had done; and ordered George to go about his business, and declare unto all what was done, to him by the holy Virgin, for the confirmation of their religion. So all the devout Romans came to view his dung, and worship over it; the king himself kneeled down, and worshipped, bowing his body over it, in presence of many people; and also caused a holy day to be observed thro’ all his dominions, for the miraculous cure.
Now George being a long time absent from Britain, he thought to go and visit the king and his court in disguise. He meeting with an old man driving two old horses, loaded with coals to sell. George here makes a bargain with the old man, for the loan of his clothes, his horses and coals, whip, and every thing to complete him as a real coal-driver; so away he goes in this dress, until he came before the king’s palace, where he began to cry with an audible voice, Buy coals, buy coals; better buy than borrow. Now the king being in company with his young chaplain, who was a foundling, none knew his original, and had been suffered and educated out of charity by the king’s father, yet he was become as proud as lucifer, and as proud in his own conceit as the king himself. Now, the king knowing George’s voice, tho’ he was in a coalman’s dress, desired the chaplain to ask the coalman why he called so loud, making such a terrible noise. The chaplain opened the window, and with great airs called unto him, You, Sir, why do you cry so for? Why, says George, I cry for people to come and buy my coals, and give me money for them; but what do you cry for? What, sir, says the young priest, I cry for you to hold your peace. Then, says George, come here then, and cry for me, and go sell my coals, and I will hold my peace. Sell my coals, says the priest, do you know unto whom you speak? Yes, I do know, says George, but you do not. What are you? says the priest; I am a mortal, and so are you, says George. What is your father’s name, since you will not tell your own? says the priest: You may go ask that at my mother, says George, for I was not sufficient when she got me to know him. What, says the priest, do you not know your own father? I know my mother, and my mother did know my father, says George, and that is sufficient, and more than you can say, perhaps. The priest thinking he was coming too near him, thought to put him off with a scriptural question, by asking him, If he knew who was Melchizedec’s father? Indeed, master priest, says George, Melchizedec’s descent was not counted, neither is yours, then who can declare your generation? The priest, at this answer, would stand the argument no longer, but closed the window in great haste, while the king, and all who knew the priest to be a foundling, were like to split their sides laughing; so George went off with his coals, and the priest became more humble than he was, formerly, for he thought that every body knew who he was, when the coalman knew so well.