“Beware, beware of the Black Friar,
Who sitteth by Norman stone.”—BYRON.
“Seven times shall he be accursed who returns evil for good, and
seven times seven he who lives for himself alone, but seventy times
seven the one who wrongs the orphan, the weak, the helpless, the
widow or the young!”—_The Ladder of Sin_.
There is in Arezzo a lonely old lane or silent street where few people
care to go after dark, nor do they love it much even by daylight, the
reason being that it is haunted, for many have seen walking up and down
in it after midnight the form of a ghostly friar, who is ever muttering
to himself. So he wanders, speaking to none, but now and then he seems
to be in great distress, and screams as if in agony, when light dim
flames fly from his mouth and nostrils, and then he suddenly vanishes.
It is said that long, long ago there lived in or near Arezzo a poor young
orphan girl who had no relations, and had been taken in charity as a
servant in a farmer’s family, where she was not unkindly treated, but
where everything was in harsh contrast to the life which she had led at
home, for her parents, though poor, were gentle folk, and had brought her
up tenderly.
So it happened that when at Easter she was ordered to kill for the usual
feast a pet lamb, because all the rest were too busy to attend to it, she
could not bring herself to do it, and wept bitterly when the lamb looked
at her, which the master and mistress could not understand, and thought
her very silly. And being deeply grieved at all this, she could eat
nothing, and so went along weeping, wishing that her life were at an end.
And while walking she met a priest, who was indeed a black sheep of the
flock, or rather a wolf, for he was a hardened villain at heart, and
ready for any knavery; and he, seeing that the girl, whose name was
Ortenzia, was in distress, drew from her all her sad story, and was very
much interested at learning that she had some small store of money and a
few jewels and clothes, which her mother had charged her not to part
with, but to keep till she should be married or for dire need.
Then the priest, pretending great sympathy and pity, said that the farm
was no place for her, and that he himself was in great need of a
maid-servant, and if she would come and live with him she should be to
him as a daughter, and treated like a lady, with much more honeyed talk
of the kind, till at last she assented to his request, at which he
greatly rejoiced, and bade her be careful to bring with her all her
property; whereupon he lost no time in inducing her to sign a paper
transferring it all to him, which she in her ignorance very willingly
did.
The poor child found very soon indeed that she had only changed the
frying-pan for the fire, for the same night the priest made proposals to
her, which she rejected in anger, when he attempted force, which she
resisted, being strong and resolute, and declared that she would leave
his house at once. But when she asked for her money and small property
he jeered at her, saying that she had _given_ it to him, and all the law
in the land could not take it away. And more than this, he declared she
was possessed by a devil, and would certainly be damned for resisting
him, and that he would excommunicate and curse her. Hearing all this,
the girl became mad in fact, and rushed forth. For a long time she went
roaming about the roads, in woods, and living on what people gave her in
pity; but no one knew what it was that had turned her brain, and the
priest, of course, said all that was ill and false of her.
One day, as the poor lunatic sat in a lonely place singing and making
bouquets of wild-flowers, the priest passed, and he, seeing her still
young and beautiful, was again inspired by passion, and threw his arms
about her. She, seized with horror, again resisted, when all at once a
voice was heard, and there stood before them a tall and dignified man,
who said to the priest:
“Leave untouched that poor girl, who is all purity and goodness, thou who
art all that is vile and foul!”
Then the priest, in great terror and white as death, replied:
“Pardon me, Signore Virgilio!”
“What thou hast deserved, thou must endure,” replied Virgil, “and long
and bitter must thy penance be; but first of all restore to this poor
creature all that of which thou hast robbed her, and make a public avowal
of her innocence and of all thy crimes.”
And this he did; when Virgil said:
“Now from this hour thy spirit shall haunt the street where thou hast
lived, and thou shalt never leave it, but wander up and down, thinking of
all the evil thou hast wrought. And when thou wouldst curse or rage, it
shall come forth from thy mouth in flames, and therewith thou shalt have
some short relief.”
As for the girl, she was restored to health, and Virgil made for her a
happy life, and she married well, and after a long and prosperous life
passed away, having founded a great family in the land.
But the goblin friar still haunts the street in Arezzo, for he has not
yet fully and truly repented, and a life as evil as his leaves its stain
long after death.