NOTE E.
CONVENT PETS IN LITERATURE.
It would be possible to compile a pretty anthology of convent pets, which have played a not undistinguished part in literature. The best known of all, perhaps, are Madame Eglentyne’s little dogs, upon which Chaucer looked with a kindly unepiscopal eye:
Of smale houndes had she, that she fedde
With rosted flesh, or milk and wastel-breed,
But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed,
Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte:
And al was conscience and tendre herte[1701].
The tender-hearted Prioress risked a terrible fate by so pampering her dogs, if we are to believe the awful warning related by the knight of La Tour-Landry, to wean his daughters from similar habits:
Ther was a lady that had two litell doggis, and she loued hem so that she toke gret plesaunce in the sight and feding of hem. And she made euery day dresse and make for her disshes with soppes of mylke, and after gaue hem flesshe. But there was ones a frere that saide to her that it was not wel done that the dogges were fedde and made so fatte, and the pore pepill so lene and famished for hunger. And so the lady, for his saieing, was wrothe with hym, but she wolde not amende it. And after she happed she deied, and there fell a wonder meruailous sight, for there was seyn euer on her bedde ij litell blake dogges, and in her deyeng thei were about her mouthe and liked it, and whanne she was dede, there the dogges had lyked it was al blacke as cole, as a gentillwoman tolde me that sawe it and named me the lady[1702].
Poor Madame Eglentyne!
The anthologist would, however, have to go further back than Chaucer, into the eleventh century, and begin with that ill-fated donkey, which belonged to sister Alfrâd of Homburg, and which the wit of a nameless goliard and the devotion of the monks of St Augustine’s, Canterbury, have preserved for undying fame[1703]:
| Est unus locus | | There is a township |
| Hôinburh dictus, | | (Men call it Homburg) |
| in quo pascebat | | There ’twas that Alfrâd |
| asinam Alfrâd | | Pastured her she-ass, |
| viribus fortem | | Strong was the donkey, |
| atque fidelem. | | Mighty and faithful. |
| |
| Que dum in amplum | | And as it wandered |
| exiret campum, | | Out to the meadow, |
| vidit currentem | | It spied a greedy |
| lupum voracem, | | Wolf that came running, |
| caput abscondit, | | Head down and tail turned, |
| caudam ostendit. | | Off the ass scampered. |
| |
| Lupus occurrit: | | Up the wolf hurried, |
| caudam momordit, | | Seized tail and bit it. |
| asina bina | | Quickly the donkey |
| levavit crura | | Lifted its hind legs, |
| fecitque longum | | With the wolf bravely, |
| cum lupo bellum. | | Long did it battle. |
| |
| Cum defecisse | | Then when at last it |
| vires sensisset, | | Felt its strength failing, |
| protulit magnam | | Raised it a mighty |
| plangendo vocem | | Noise of lamenting, |
| vocansque suam | | Calling its mistress, |
| moritur domnam. | | So died the donkey. |
| |
| Audiens grandem | | Hearing the mighty |
| asine vocem | | Voice of her donkey |
| Alfrâd cucurrit, | | Alfrâd came running. |
| “sorores,” dixit, | | “Come, sisters” cried she |
| “cito venite, | | “Sisters, come quickly, |
| me adiuvate! | | Come now and help me! |
| |
| Asinam caram | | My darling donkey |
| misi ad erbam. | | Out to grass put I. |
| illius magnum | | I hear a mighty |
| audio planctum, | | Sound of complaining. |
| spero cum sevo | | Sure with a cruel |
| ut pugnet lupo.” | | Wolf is it fighting!” |
| |
| Clamor sororum | | Heard is her crying |
| venit in claustrum, | | In the nuns’ cloister, |
| turbe virorum | | Men come and women, |
| ac mulierum | | Crowding together, |
| assunt, cruentum | | All that the bloody |
| ut captent lupum. | | Wolf may be taken. |
| |
| vAdela namque | | Adela also, |
| soror Alfrâde, | | sister of Alfrâd, |
| Rîkilam querit, | | Rîkila seeketh, |
| Agatham invenit, | | Agatha findeth, |
| ibant ut fortem | | All go to vanquish |
| sternerent hostem. | | The mighty foeman. |
| |
| At ille ruptis | | But he tore open |
| asine costis | | Sides of the donkey, |
| sanguinis undam | | Flesh and blood gobbled |
| carnemque totam | | All up together, |
| simul voravit, | | Then helter-skeltered |
| silvam intravit. | | Back to the forest. |
| |
| Illud videntes | | And when they saw him |
| cuncte sorores | | Wept all the sisters, |
| crines scindebant, | | Tearing their tresses, |
| pectus tundebant, | | Beating their bosoms, |
| flentes insontem | | Weeping the guiltless |
| asine mortem. | | Death of their donkey. |
| |
| Denique parvum | | Long time a tiny |
| portabat pullum; | | Foal it had carried. |
| illum plorabat | | Sadly wept Alfrâd |
| maxime Alfrâd, | | Thinking upon it, |
| sperans exinde | | All her hopes ended |
| prolem crevisse. | | Of rearing the offspring. |
| |
| Adela mitis | | Adela gentle, |
| Fritherûnque dulcis | | Fritherûn charming, |
| venerunt ambe, | | Both came together, |
| ut Alverâde | | That they might strengthen |
| cor confirmarent | | Sad heart of Alfrâd, |
| atque sanarent. | | Strengthen and heal it. |
| |
| “Delinque mestas, | | “Leave now thy gloomy |
| soror, querelas! | | Wailing, O sister! |
| lupus amarum | | Wolf never heedeth |
| non curat fletum: | | Thy bitter weeping. |
| dominus aliam, | | The Lord will give thee |
| dabit tibi asinam.” | | Another donkey.” |
Exquisite ending! “The Lord will give thee another donkey.” With what delighted applause must the unknown jongleur have been greeted by the monks or nobles, who first listened after dinner to this little masterpiece of humour.