Part 7 (1/2)
”Now know, fair and dear hermit, the good man ye saw yesterday and who entertained us with such good will, had lived together with his wife for thirty years uprightly. Never a poor man came to his house but he gave him lodging and shared with him what he had, and so much of his fortune he gave away for G.o.d's sake that little was left him thereof; and he shone with charity. But much he desired to have a son, that he might leave his lands to him and teach him to serve G.o.d with all his heart.
Many prayers he made to heaven, and many tears he wept, and at last G.o.d granted them a child. Ten years of age or more he had come to be, and the good man had grown hard of heart because of the son to whom he would bequeath his goods, and had so set himself to the heaping up of money that his heart had no other thought; that which had been his wont he turned from, and had grown cold and fainthearted; his good deeds he forgot, and within a short s.p.a.ce he would have become a usurer rather than see his child poor in goods and heritage; it was in his heart, and such a thought would soon have come to him that all his well doing had been undone, and he had lost his soul and that of his son. But now through the loss of the child he hath escaped all peril, and the child knew nought of sin, wholly pure he was, wherefore he was taken to such a place that his soul is now in paradise. And his father will amend him, and he and the mother will be more fearful, and will turn to deeds of charity. So all three shall be saved, and G.o.d did graciously to the parents in that he took the child to his profit. Now have I made known to you, fair, sweet friend, the reason of my deeds. In this wise G.o.d hath shown you how divers are his judgments, that in this world he taxes his people and renders them poor and dest.i.tute; and ofttimes grants great riches to his enemies, for that they shall have no part in heaven. So it is even as I tell you; and now may I abide here no longer; bethink ye of well doing, get ye back to your hermitage and do penance.” And forthright the youth changeth his semblance, and became a wondrous angel; and he rose into heaven, singing, ”Gloria in excelsis Deo.”
To the hermit it seemed he had heard him for too short a s.p.a.ce, and fain had he not been parted from such joy. He cast himself upon the ground and stretched out his arms in the form of the cross, and weeping, gave thanks to G.o.d for the goodness he had shown him. He returned again to the hermitage which he had left in his folly; there he lived all his life, and when death came to him G.o.d saved his soul, and crowned it in paradise.
Now may G.o.d grant us in this life such desire of well doing that we shall win the light whereby we may know G.o.d and man.
The Jousting of Our Lady
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Sweet Jesus, what a fair feat of arms he doth, and how n.o.bly he bears his part in the tourney who of good will entereth the minster wherein is celebrated the holy mystery of the sweet son of the Virgin Mother.
To show this I will now tell a story, even as I found it in the book of examples.
A knight, sage and courteous, hardy and of great valiance, that none in all chivalry was of so great wors.h.i.+p, held ever in great love Mary the Virgin. To prove his valiance and to exercise his body in feats of arms he was on his way to a tourney, armed and fortified in his joy. So it befell on the day of the jousting, that he to please G.o.d rode forth full hastily, for fain would he be first in the field. But anon from a church hardby he heard the bells give signal of the singing of holy ma.s.s. And straightway the knight turned into the church to listen to the service of G.o.d. Within they sang n.o.bly and devoutly a ma.s.s in praise of Mary the Holy Virgin; and then straightway they began another. Full well the knight gave ear and prayed with good heart to Our Lady.
Now when the second ma.s.s was done a third was begun forthright in the same place. Thereupon his squire bespoke the knight: ”Sir, by the holy body of G.o.d the hour of the tourney is pa.s.sing, and do you yet linger here? Come away I pray you. Think you to turn hermit, or devotee, or hypocrite? Go we now about our own proper trade.” ”Friend,” the knight then made answer, ”he jousts right n.o.bly who listens to the service of G.o.d. When all the ma.s.ses are said and sung we will ride our way; and if it please G.o.d, we will not leave before; but afterwards, for G.o.d's honour, I will go joust full hardily.” Thereafter he spoke no more, but turned his face to the altar and remained at prayer until all the chanting was ended.
Then the twain mounted their horses, as it behooved them to do, and fared forth towards the place wherein they were to take their sport.
But even as they rode, they met other knights returning from the tourney which already had been fought out from end to end. And lo you, the knight who came even then from ma.s.s was he who had won the prize. They who were returning, greeted him and praised him, and said that never had any knight done so great feats of arms as he had that day done, and always thenceforth would the honour thereof be his. Many there were who surrendered themselves to him, saying: ”We are your prisoners, this we may not deny, nor that you won us by force of arms.” Then was the knight no longer abashed, for he understood speedily that she for whose sake he had stayed him in the church had borne his part in the battle.
Frank and free he called his barons about him, and said to them: ”Now give ear, all ye of your courtesy, for I would tell you of such a marvel that never have ye heard its like.” Then he told them point by point how he had waited to hear out the ma.s.ses, and had not entered the lists, nor fought with either lance or s.h.i.+eld, but he believed that the Maid whom he had wors.h.i.+pped within the church had fought for him in his stead.
”Right wondrous is the tourney wherein she hath jousted for me, yet I should make small account thereof and if I did not now do combat for her; foolish and simple would I be and if I turned me again to the vanities of the world.” And so of a sooth he promised G.o.d that never thenceforth would he tourney save before the true judge, who knoweth all good knights and pa.s.seth sentence upon them according to their deeds. Then he took leave full piteously, and many a one wept thereat right tenderly. But he departed from them, and in an abbey of monks thenceforth served the Virgin Mary, and methinks he held to the path that leadeth to a good end.
By this ensample we may well see that the gentle G.o.d, whom we wors.h.i.+p, loves and cherishes and honours him who gladly stays him to hear ma.s.s in holy church, and who gladly does service to his fair, sweet Mother.
Fruitful is the custom thereof, and he who is sage and courteous willingly practises good manners; for what the colt learneth in teething time that will he hold to so long as he liveth.
The Order of Chivalry
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Well it is when the wise man speaketh, for thereby may we win much of wisdom and good and courtesy; well it is to haunt the company of him who taketh heed to his ways and setteth not his heart upon folly. For as we read in Solomon, the man who hath understanding doeth well in all things, and if at whiles he fail in aught unwittingly, lightly should he be forgiven, inasmuch as he would forsake his wrongdoing.
But now it behooveth me to speak and tell and relate a tale I heard of a king in the land of paynimry, who of old was a right great lord and a full loyal Saracen. Saladin was his name; cruel he was, and many a time did great hurt to our faith and damage to our folk by his pride and outrageousness; until upon a time it fell that a prince came to do battle with him. Hugh of Tabarie he hight, and with him was a great company of knights of Galilee, for he was lord of that land. Many good deeds of arms were done that day, but it was not the will of the Creator, whom we call the King of Glory, that the victory should be with us, for there Prince Hugh was taken prisoner. He was led away down the streets, and forthwith brought before Saladin, who greeted him in his own tongue which he knew right well. ”By Mahomet,” so saith the king, ”I am right glad of thy taking, Hugh; and now one thing I promise thee, either thou must die or render great ransom.” ”Since you give me choice herein,” Hugh answered him, ”I will take the ransom, if it be that I have the wherewithal to defray it.” ”Yea,” so saith the king to him, ”thou shalt give over to me a hundred thousand besants.” ”Ha, sir, that could I not compa.s.s, even were I to sell all my land.” ”In sooth ye shall do it,” quoth Saladin. ”But by what means, sir?” ”Thou art of great valiance and full of high chivalry, and no man of worth will refuse thee when thou askest for thy ransom, but will give thee a fair gift; and in this wise thou shalt aquit thee.” ”Now I would fain ask thee how I may depart from here?” And Saladin made answer: ”Hugh, thou shalt pledge me on thy word and thy law that two years from to-day without fail thou shalt have paid thy ransom, or thou wilt return again to my prison; on these terms ye may depart.” ”Sir,” saith he, ”I give thee good thanks, and even so make pledge.”
Then he straightway asked leave in that he would return again to his own country, but the king took him by the hand and led him away into his own chamber, and gently besought him: ”Hugh,” he saith, ”by the faith that ye owe to the G.o.d of your law, make me wise for I am fain to know all the Order of Chivalry, and how knights are made.” ”Fair sir,” Hugh made answer, ”this I may not do.” ”Why so, fair sir?” ”Even that will I tell thee. In thee the holy order of knighthood would be ill bestowed, for thou art of the false law, and have neither faith nor baptism. It were great folly were I to deck and cover a dunghill with cloth of silk to the end it should no longer stink; in no wise could I compa.s.s it; and even so would I misdo, were I to invest thee with this order; never would I dare do it, for much would I be blamed.” ”Not so, Hugh,” saith he, ”no blame would be thine herein, for thou art my prisoner and needs must do my will, howsoever much it mislike thee.” ”Sir, if I must perforce do this thing, and no denial will avail, do it I will without more caviling.”
Thereupon Hugh beginneth to show him all it behooved him to do, and let dress his hair and beard and face right fairly, as is meet for a new knight. And next he made him enter a bath, and when the soudan asked him what this might signify, ”Sir,” he made answer, ”this bath wherein you are bathed is to signify that even as the child which is born in sin issueth out of the font pure after baptism, even so, sir, should you issue forth clean of all felony, and be fulfilled with courtesy; for you should bathe in honesty and courtesy and kindliness, that you may come to be loved of all men.” ”G.o.d! right fair is this beginning,” then said the king. And thereafter he was taken out of the bath, and laid in a goodly bed which was dight right heedfully. ”Hugh, tell me now without fail what this bed betokeneth.” ”Sir, this bed signifieth to you that by your chivalry you should win the bed of Paradise that G.o.d granteth to his friends; for this is the bed of rest, and great is the folly of him who will not lie therein.”
Now when he had lain in that bed for a little s.p.a.ce, they raised him up, and clothed him in white garments of linen. Then again Hugh spake in his own tongue: ”Take not this thing lightly, for these white garments that cover your body give you to understand that a knight should always study to keep his flesh pure if he would attain to G.o.d.” Thereafter he invested him with a robe of scarlet, whereat Saladin marveleth much why the prince so dighteth him. ”Hugh,” he saith, ”now what does this robe betoken?” And Hugh of Tabarie maketh answer: ”Sir, this robe giveth you to understand that you must hold you ready to shed your blood for the defense of holy church, that it be wronged of no man; for so it behooveth a knight to do, if he would fain please G.o.d: this the scarlet colour betokeneth.” ”Hugh,” saith he, ”much I marvel.” Thereafter the knight did upon his feet shoes of dark and fine-wrought say, and saith to him: ”Sir, of a sooth, this black foot-gear should remind you to hold death ever in remembrance, and the earth wherein you shall lie, that dust from which you came and to which you shall return again; upon this you should set your eye, and fall not into pride; for pride should not hold sway over a knight, nor have any place within him, but he should seek simplicity in all things.” ”All this is right good to hear,” saith the king, ”and rejoiceth me much.”
Thereafter he stood upon his feet, and Hugh girt him about with a white girdle finely wrought. ”Sir, by this girdle you are given to understand that you should keep your flesh, your reins and all your body pure, even as in virginity, and scorn and blame all luxury. For a true knight greatly loveth purity of body, that he sin not herein, in that such vileness is sore hated of G.o.d.” And the king maketh answer: ”Good is uprightness.” Next Hugh did two spurs upon his feet, and said to him: ”Even as swift as you would have your horse, and eager for the race when you smite him with your spurs, and that he turn quickly this way or that according to your will, even so these golden spurs betoken that ye be eager to serve G.o.d all your life; for so do all knights that love G.o.d with their very hearts, always they serve him loyally.” Well pleased therewith was Saladin.
Thereafter he was girt with a sword, and asked what the blade might signify. ”Sir,” saith Hugh, ”ward and surety against the onset of the foe. The sword is two-edged, even as you see, which giveth you to understand that always should the knight have both justice and loyalty; which is to say, meseemeth, that he should always protect the poor that the rich may not tread them down, and support the weak that the strong may not bring them to shame. Even such is the work of mercy.” Saladin, who hath given good heed to his words, agreeth well thereto. Next Hugh set upon his head a coif all of white, and of this likewise the Sultan asked the meaning. ”Look you sir,” saith Hugh, ”even as you know the coif to be without spot, but that, fair and white, clean and pure, it crowneth your head, even so upon the Day of Doom must we straightway render up the soul pure and clean of our sins and all the wrong that the body ever doeth to G.o.d, that we may earn the delights of Paradise,--for tongue may not tell, nor the ear hear, nor the heart dream what is the beauty of that Paradise which G.o.d granteth to his friends.”
The king gave heed to all this, and thereafter asked if there were now no more to be done. ”Yes, fair sir, but this one thing I dare not.” ”And what may it be?” ”Sir, the accolade.” ”But why have you not given it to me and told its significance?” ”Sir, it is the reminder of him who girt a knight with his gear and invested him with the order; but never will I give it to you, for though I am in your power I ought to do no felony for aught that may be said or done to me, wherefore I will not give you the accolade; and this you must hold for true. But none the less I will show and tell and teach you the four weightiest matters that a knight should know and hold to all his life, if he would fain win honour.