[ THE TWENTY-SECOND NOUELL.]
The marueilous knowledge of a Lion, being acquainted with a man, called Androdus.
There chaunced to be certaine playes and games at Rome, wher were many monstruous and cruel beastes: but amonges all those beastes, the hugenesse and cruell aspectes of the Lions were had in greatest wonder, especially of one: which Lion was of an huge and greate bignesse, hauinge a terrible voyce, his clawes stretched forth, his bristles and heare vprighte, beholdinge with his fierce and deadly eyes, all the multitude standing by. There was brought in to fight with the lion amonges al the rest, one Androdus a Dacian borne, the bondman of a great personage, of the Consular order, whom the Lion beholding a farre of, sodenly stoode still: and afterwards by litle and litle, in gentle sort he came vnto the man, as though he had knowen him: Wagging his taile like a Spaniel fawning vpon his maister, and licked the handes and legges of the poore felow, which for feare was almost dead. This Androdus perceyuing the flatteries of this fierce beast, recouered comforte, and earnestly viewed and marked the Lion. Then they began to enter into mutual acquaintaunce, one reioycing at an others meting. Upon which straung euent, the people raysed great shoutes and acclamations: wherupon Androdus was called before the Emperoure, and demaunded the cause, why that most cruell beast did in that sorte, fawne and fauour him aboue all other.
Androdus tould a maruaylous and straunge historye of the cause thereof, saying: “If it please your Maiestie, when my Lorde and maister did by the office of Proconsull gouerne Africa, I throughe his causelesse stripes and dailye whippinges, was forced to runne awaye. And when I had gotten pardon of the liefetenaunte of that countrie, to remaine there, I withdrew my selfe into the deserts and voide places: and lacking meate to ease the paine of hunger, I determined by some meanes, to seeke mine owne death. It chaunced about the midde of the day, when the Sunne was feruent hot, I entred into a Caue, which was farre from habitation, verye wide and large. Whereunto, within a while after, this Lion resorted, hauing one of his feete bloudie and hurt: for paine whereof, he vttered much mone and sorrow, bewayling the griefe, and anguishe of the sore. When I saw the Lion my hart began to quake for feare, but beinge come in, as it were into his owne habitation (for so it shoulde appeare,) perceyuinge me to go aboute to hide myselfe a farre of, he like a milde and gentle beast came vnto me, holding vp his foote, reaching the same to me, as though he desired helpe and reliefe at my handes. Wherewithall I plucked out of his foote a stubbe, which stucke betweene the pawes thereof, and taking a litle salue, which I had in my bosome, I thrust it into the bottome of the wounde, and diligently without any further feare, I dryed vp the wound, and wiped away the bloud thereof: wherewith the lion being eased, resting his foote in my handes, he laye downe to refreshe him selfe. From that day duringe the space of three yeares, the Lion and I continued together, and liued with like fare: the fattest and best morsels of those beastes, which he prayed, he did euer bring me into the Caue: which meate because I had no fire, I rosted in the heate of the Sunne, and did eate the same with good stomacke. But when I began to waxe weary of that kinde of diet, vpon a time the Lion being abroad, I forsoke the Caue, and trauailing almost the space of three dayes, I was espied and taken of the souldiours, and brought home to my maister out of Africa to Rome: who immediatlie condempned mee to be deuoured of beastes. And now I perceiue that this lion sithens I lefte his companie is taken, and doth acquite that good tourne and cure, which I shewed him then.” The people hearing the discourse of this straunge fact, made suite that the felow might be pardoned, and set at libertie: and the Lion by generall voyce was giuen vnto him for reward. Afterwards Androdus caried the Lion abrode the citie in a litle corde, and had muche money giuen him: and the Lion was decked and beautified with flowers, and euery man that met them, did vse to say:--“This is the Lion the frend of this man, and this is the man, the Phisition of the Lion.”
[ THE TWENTY-THIRD NOUELL.]
A pretie disputation of the philosopher Phauorinus, to perswade a woman not to put forth her child to nursse, but to nourishe it herselfe with her owne milke.
It was told to the Philosopher Phauorinus, that the wife of one of his Sectators and scholers was brought a bedde of a sonne. “Let vs go (quoth Phauorinus) to visite the childwife, and to gratulate the father for the ioy of his sonne.” When they were entred the house, after hee had saluted the good man, according to the custome, he asked the wife how she did, and prayed the Gods to sende her good footing, and then inquired of her trauel, and painfull panges. When he vnderstode that her trauel was greate, and her bodye weake with watchinge, howbeit somewhat comforted with sleepe which she had taken, he determined to enter into further talke. “I doubt not gossip (quoth he) but that you purpose to nourish your sonne your selfe.” The mother of the woman hearing him say so, began to pray pardon, and said, that her doughter might not both sustaine paine in the birth, and also trouble to nourish it herselfe. “I pray thee mother, said Phauorinus, to suffer thy doughter to be the whole and intire mother of her owne sonne. What kinde of halfe and vnperfecte mothers be they, which so sone as they be deliuered do, against nature, by and by thruste the child awaye from them? Can they nourishe with their owne bloud, the thing which they see not, and wil they not vouchsafe to bestow their milke vppon that, which is now a lyuing creature, crying out before their faces for the mothers helpe, and dutie? O thou vnkinde woman, doest thou thincke that nature hath giuen thee two breastes for nothinge els, but to beautifie and adorne thy bodie, and not to giue sucke to thy children? In like sort many prodigious and monstruous women, haue dried vp and extinguished that moste sacred fountaine of the body, the educatour of mankinde: not without peril of their persons: as though the same were a disgracing of their beautie and comlinesse. The like also some do attempt by deuises and subtile secretes to extrude theyr conceptions, that the swelling of their body might not irrigate and wrinckle their faces, and that their paineful labours and great burdens, do not make them looke olde in their youthly dayes. And like as it is generally to be abhorred, that man in his first beginnings, (when he is fashioned and inspired with life, and in the handes of the cunning and wise woman, dame Nature,) should be killed and slaine: euen so with not much lesse detestation it is to be had and compted, when he is perfecte and borne and the childe of thine owne bloude, to be depriued from his due sustenance. But it is no matter (wil som say) with whose milke hee be nourced, so hee receiue milke and liue. The like may be said to that man which is so dull in perceyuing the prouidence of nature, that what matter had it been in whose bodye, and with whose bloud, he himselfe had been formed and brought into light. Hath not she which nowe respireth, and with beauty waxeth white and fayre, the same bloud now in her breastes, which was before remayninge in her wombe? Is not the wysedome of nature manifest in this, that after the cunning workman the bloud, hath framed in the inward parts euery body of man, straight way when the time of byrthe approcheth, the same bloude infudeth himselfe into the vpper partes, and is readie to nourishe the rudimentes of lyfe and lighte, offeringe acquaintaunce and familiar sustinance to the new borne? Wherefore in vaine is not that report and beliefe, that like as the force and nature of the generation seede is able to shape the similitudes of the mind and body, euen so the qualities and properties of the Milke, do auayle to like effect. Which thinge is not onelye marked in men, but also in brute beastes. For if Kiddes be sockled vp wyth Ewes Milke, and Lambes wyth Goates, the woll of thone will grow more rough and hard, and the heare of the other more tender and soft. In trees also and fruites, there is for the most part, a greater force and power in the nature of the soile and water where they grow, eyther for the pruning and planting, then there is if straunge impes and seedes be grifted and sowen there. And many times you see, that a fruitfull tree, caried and set in an other place, decayeth, throughe the nature of the ground more barren. What reason is this then, to corrupt the noble nature of this borne childe, whose body and minde, is well begunne wyth naturall beginninges to infect the the same wyth the degenerate food of straung Milke. Specially if she to whom you shall put forth this childe to giue sucke, be eyther a bonde and seruile woman, and (as commonly it chauncheth) of a forren and barbarous nation, be she wicked, ill fauoured, whorish or drunken. For diuers times without difference, children be put foorth to suche Noursses, whose honestie and conditions, in the tyme of the putting foorth, be vtterly vnknowen. Shall we suffer therefore, this our infant to be corrupted with pestiferous milke? Shall we abyde a newe nature and spirite, to bee renued in his mynde and bodye, deriued from that whiche is moste vile and wicked? Muche like to the same, whiche many tymes wee see and wonder, howe diuers chyldren borne of chaste and honest women, haue bodies and qualities farre discrepant from their honest parentes. Wherefore very trimlie and cunningly Maro folowing Homeres verses, doth say, speaking of the cruel nature of Achilles:
Sir Peleus that gentle knight,
was not thy father sure,
Nor yet thy dame faire Thetis was
whose grace the Goddes did lure: