“A hundred shillings, which my lord the king gives to those that are blind,” replied the youth.
“Thy blindness is very sudden,” rejoined the almoner; “when did it happen, and where? for I saw thee yesterday with both eyes perfect in the tavern by the city wall.”
“Last night, noble sir,” replied the blind man, “last night at that tavern I became blind.”
“Go fetch the host,” said the almoner sternly, “we will look into this matter more fully.”
So when the innkeeper came, he inquired of him how the matter was; and when he had heard all their deeds, he turned to the young man, and said—
“Of a surety thou knowest but half the law, and dost interpret it wrong; to such as are blind by God’s act, does our gracious king give his charity; such the law protects and relieves. But thou—why art thou blind? Thinkest thou that thou dost deserve to be rewarded for voluntarily surrendering thine eyes, in order to discharge the debt thou and thy companions had contracted by gluttony and rioting? Begone, foolish man: thy avarice hath made thee blind.”
So they drove away the young men from the king’s gate, lamenting their folly and wickedness.
“There can be little doubt,” said Herbert, “what moral the author of this tale intended to teach. The king’s gift clearly illustrates God’s reward for forgiveness, to those that by natural infirmity and temptation fall into sin; as the withholding it from the glutton, is meant to teach us how difficult it will be to obtain the forgiveness of voluntary sin, done out of pure wickedness.”
“You have found out the monk’s moral rightly in this tale, Henry; but I think you will not be so successful in that which I now propose reading to you—the story of