A pleasant jest wrought Owlglass at Bremen. At one season when that he came thither, he stood on the market, and he beheld that the boors’ women brought great store of milk thereto; and therewith he ’gan to think what a merry piece of knavery he might perform. Therefore he tarried awhile until a day on which the market was very full, and much milk was brought thither, and he fetched him a great tun, the which he set upon the market-place, and cried aloud unto the boors’ women that they should turn unto him, for he would buy their milk, and they should pour it into the tun. And every good wife of the which he took milk he bade write the measure and price therefor, upon a paper, and then sit down, for he would pay the money when that the tun was filled.
So the boors’ wives sat in a circle around Owlglass, and waited for their money, and rejoiced greatly at such a noble milk merchant (for they knew him not); and it came to pass, that after a while there was not any other good wife who had milk to sell. Then Owlglass opened his mouth and spake unto the women, and said unto them these words: “To-day have I not any money in pouch. And such of ye as cannot abide and give me credit for a matter of fourteen days, would do best to take forth her milk again:” and having thus maliciously ended his speech, he hasted to go away from the market-place. Thereafter contended the boors’ wives with much anger, and each would fain take her milk out of the tun first, and in their quarrelings the milk was spilled on the ground and on their clothes, and in their eyes; and it did most certainly appear as if milk from the clouds had been rained down. And all the townspeople beheld the merry conceit, and they were greatly contented with the wit of Master Owlglass.
The Eighty and Third Adventure.
How that Owlglass spake unto twelve blind men, and persuaded them that he had unto them given twelve shillings; and how that they spent the money and came evilly off thereafter.
And, it came to pass, that as Owlglass journeyed hither and thither up and down in the land, like an uneasy spirit as he was, he came again unto Hanover, and there he wrought not a few strange things. Therefore one day as he sate upon his horse beyond the city gate and rode a good way, there came along the road twelve blind men, the which he encountered. When that he beheld them he cried aloud unto them: “God give ye grace, blind men, whence come ye?” Then the company of blind men stood still and perceived that he sate upon a horse, and by that they judged him to be an honest gentleman—for respect is always due to one who is a cavalier; and who rides must needs be honest—so they took off their hats and saluted him, and spake unto him, saying: “Lo! noble and worshipful sir, good kind Christian gentleman, we have been within this city of Hanover; there had a rich man given up the ghost, and at his funeral feast were alms and baked meats bestowed upon us and other poor men, as be we. Yet for as much as frost and snow be on the ground, we were right sorely pinched with the cold.” Then answered Owlglass, and said unto them: “Ye say truly that it is cold; I fear me that of frost ye will utterly perish. Now look you, here be twelve shillings, enter ye again into the city, and get ye unto such an inn, [and he told them what inn they should seek], and spend ye these twelve shillings for God his grace and my sake, until that the winter be gone by, and ye be able to again set forth in comfort upon your voyage.”
Then the blind men stood in great honour and worship of the noble gentleman’s person, and bowed themselves before him, and gave him their thanks for his guerdon. For each blind man believed that his neighbour had received the money, to wit, in the manner that the first thought the second had it, and the second the third, and the third the fourth; and after this wise were they all hoodwinked, for not one stiver had Owlglass bestowed upon them. Thereafter they turned back, and gat them unto the hostel of the which Owlglass had told them; and when they had entered in, they spake unto the host, and told him how that it had come to pass that a good charitable gentleman had encountered them by the way, and had bestowed upon them twelve shillings, that they might eat and rejoice during the hard winter, until that spring should come again.
Now the host was a man greedy of gain, and he thought no more upon that saying, but how he might get the money; and he received them, and never did he dream within his stupid sconce to ask which had the money in pouch of them all. But he spake unto them, saying: “Dear and beloved brethren, ye shall here receive satisfaction, and your afflictions shall be comforted.” And he made haste to kill and hew down oxen and calves; and he made ready meats boiled and roast, and set them before the blind men, who fell to right gladly; and this feasting went forward every day, until he thought that they had eaten the value of the twelve shillings.
Then he spake unto them, and said: “Dear brethren, ye have eaten the value of the twelve shillings, methinks, let us therefore reckon.” And the blind men answered: “Yea;” and spake each unto his fellow, that he should take forth the twelve shillings, that good master host should be rewarded. But the one had it not, neither had the other; moreover they found that not a penny had any man of their company. And the blind folk sate still and scratched their pates, but found not the twelve shillings anywhere behind their ears; and they perceived that they had been beguiled. Then the host saw likewise that he had been cozened of his charges, and he sate there, and pondered what he should do. For he thought within himself: “Here be a company of blind rascals, and if that thou permittest them to depart, then dost thou lose thy charges; and if that thou keepest them will they eat yet more, and then thou wilt be at double cost.” So with no more ado he claps me the blind company of dear brethren into the pig-stye, and there may they make fine cheer with hay and straw.
At this time, Owlglass ’gan to think,—for with all his malice he had a good heart:—“Nay, but thy blind men must very nigh have eaten up the provision thou madest for them, and therefore go thou and seek news of them.” And he saddled his horse and disguised himself, and rode unto Hanover, and came unto the inn where the blind men lay. Thereupon, as he came into the court, and would have bound his horse up in the stable, he looked, and behold the blind men lay in the pig-stye. Thereat he gat him into the house, and spake unto the host, and said unto him: “What is this thing which thou hast done unto these blind men? Wherefore be they amidst the dirt and mire of the pig-stye? Have ye no bowels of mercy when ye see the vile fare they eat?” And the host answered him: “Nay, but I wish that in the water they lay all perished, if only my charges were paid.” Therewith telleth he unto Owlglass the whole story of the matter. Owlglass said unto him: “How, sir host, could ye not have a surety for this debt?” “Alas!” quoth the host, “right gladly would I have a surety if that it could be—and if that a certain surety be found, I would set free these poor men forthwith.” Thereat said Owlglass unto him: “See now, I will go and in this city make quest, if that I can find some charitable man that will do this thing for thee.”
So Owlglass gat him forth, and came unto the priest of the parish, and said unto him: “Most reverend and learned sir, hast thou a will to do a Christian kindness? For lo! I must expound unto thee, that mine host of the inn where I lie is possessed of an evil spirit within the past night, and he beggeth hard that ye would exorcise him, and cast out the evil demon.” The priest answered, and said: “Yea, that I will most cheerfully; for is it not mine office? Yet must we tarry a day or two; for with such things is haste greatly to be avoided.” Then quoth Owlglass: “I will go fetch his wife, that ye may repeat this thing unto her.” The priest replied: “Yea, bring her unto me, I warrant she shall be content.” Then departed Owlglass, and gat him to the host, and said: “I have found for thee a surety in good master parson of the parish. Give me now thy wife to bear me company unto him; for he will give her satisfaction.” Thereat was the host right glad, and bade his wife immediately resort with Owlglass unto the priest; and when they came thither, Owlglass said: “Behold, reverend sir, here is the woman, wife unto the host of the which I spake anon. Assure her now as before thou didst assure me.” And the priest said: “Yea, my good woman; be thou content. For is it not mine office to do deeds of charity? That which thy husband seeketh shall be in a short time performed within these few days.” And the woman was content, and returned again unto her husband, and said unto him, that the priest would perform the payment duly; and then was the host glad, and let the blind men depart, and rewarded Owlglass for his pains; and this last set forth on his journey, and tarried no longer in Hanover.
The third day after this, the woman went again to master parson, and demanded of him, that he should pay the twelve shillings. And he asked her, if her husband had said this thing unto her; and she said: “Yea.” Thereat he observed, “that such was the way with evil spirits; they would always have money.” But the woman said: “There be no evil spirits here; pay ye the charges, and therewith are we ended.” The priest quoth thereat: “I was admonished that your good man was possessed of an evil spirit, the which he would fain have cast forth; now this will I do, but of money know I nothing.” To him straightway answered the goodwife: “Nay, but this is the fashion with liars and shufflers; when that money is to be paid, they would with knavery escape. If that my husband be of an evil spirit beset, ye shall surely be advised thereof,” and therewith ran speedily unto her husband, and told him what the parson said.