concerning the mockery which befel him after the bath, therefore did he
tie the rope across unto another house, and once again told the people
that he would dance to and fro upon the rope. Soon did the people come
together in great multitude, and there were in that place both old and
young; then Owlglass spake unto the young people, and said that he would
show unto them a most rare device upon the rope with their shoes. Then
did they believe him, and with that put their shoes off their feet and
gave them unto Owlglass, and he did put them all together upon a string
and went up on to the rope; and all the people thought that he was going
to make some wonderful stroke therewith. But the boys were sad, and
would fain have received their shoes again.
When, therefore, Owlglass was sitting upon the rope and had ended his
trickery, he cried out with a loud voice and spake these words: “Be ye
now every one in readiness, and let him seek his shoes again;” and he
cut the string and threw all the shoes upon the ground, in such wise
that one shoe fell upon another into a great heap, and none could be
distinguished. Then did the people, old and young, come in great crowds,
and caught a shoe here and another there; and one spake and said this
was his shoe, whereat another did make answer that it was his; and then
fell they to fisticuffs, and with great blows they pulled out the hairs
from their heads: one lay on the ground, and the other belaboured him
with sturdy strokes; and one wept with a loud voice while another did
laugh, and a third screamed like a peacock. Thus went things forward,
until the old men began also to give many stripes to the crowd.
But Owlglass, sitting upon his rope, laughed until his stomach shook
again, and cried out: “Right merry may ye be! Seek ye your shoes again
in that wise in which I sought my way forth from the bath.” Then did he
come down from his rope, and left them in contention; nor did he again
come forth, for fear of the people, but abode at home with his mother.
Thereover did his mother greatly rejoice, and thought that now he was a
wise and gentle person, and soon, therefore, would things go better with
them all. Yet knew she not of his knavery, and wherefore he dared not go
out. But the wisdom of Owlglass was great; for it is better to abide in
darkness with a whole skin, than live in a palace of light and be beaten
with many stripes. Thus did, therefore, our great example of wit and
judgment.
The Sixth Adventure.
_How that Owlglass his mother did move him that he should learn a
handicraft._
The mother of Owlglass was right glad that her son was so still, and
chid him only for that he would learn no handicraft. Yet answered he
never a word unto all her reproofs, the which she was never tired of
bestowing upon him. At last he opened his mouth and spake unto her,
saying: “Dear mother, as it happeneth that one beginneth action, so also
is the ending thereof.” For he knew in his wisdom, that if he had begun
with knavish doings, and should turn therefrom and live honestly, yet in
the world would no one give heed unto him, but the rather regard him as
a greater knave than before, esteeming him to be a hypocrite as well as
a knave. “That believe I right truly,” answered his mother; “and thus
have I seen no bread in my house these four weeks gone by, nor have I
had thereof any.” “That toucheth not my speech,” said Owlglass. “But
with Saint Nicolaus must the poor man fast upon his even; and if
perchance he should have bread, he may feast right merrily with Saint
Martin on his day. Therefore will we also eat.”
The Seventh Adventure.
_How Owlglass did deceive a baker at Strasfurt, and gat bread for his
mother._
Then thought Owlglass: “God help us, how shall I compass it that my
mother may be rendered quiet? Where shall I get me bread for her needs?”
Thus went he forth from the village where they abode, and departed on
the way towards the town of Strasfurt, and there beheld he a baker’s
shop. Then went he in unto the baker, and asked him, saying: “Would he
for a crown send bread unto his lord?” Then named he the name of a lord
who abode in that town, and also the place where he lay, that the baker
might send with Owlglass a boy to carry the bread and receive the money
therefor.
Thereat answered the baker, that he would do everything that he
commanded, and Owlglass gave him a sack wherein to count the loaves; but
this sack had a secret hole, not to be seen. The baker sent with him a
lad to receive the money.
Now when Owlglass had gat him a bow-shot from the house of the baker, he
privily let a wheaten loaf fall down into the mire, and thereat set he
the bag down and said unto the baker’s lad: “Alas! the bread which is
thus made dirty I can never bring in unto my lord. Run quickly home and
get for it another loaf, and I will wait here till that thou dost come
again.” Then hasted the good lad to his master’s house, and did get
another loaf for him; but Owlglass secretly hid himself in a house
outside the town until that a cart came by, which did receive him and
his bag; and he returned unto the house of his mother.
When that the lad came back unto the place where Owlglass had let the
loaf fall, he found that he was beguiled; and he went back and told his
master, who speedily ran unto the inn where lay the worshipful lord of
whom Owlglass spake, and he asked the serving-men of that lord for
Owlglass; but they knew him not. Then the baker perceived that he was
cheated of his bread, and so returned home. But Owlglass gave the bread
to his mother, and bade her to feast with Saint Martin. Thus can a great
man ever overcome the besetting evils of life.
The Eighth Adventure.
_How Owlglass with other children, was forced to eat fat soup, and gat
blows likewise._
There was in the village where Owlglass lived with his mother, a custom
that when anyone killed a pig, the neighbour’s children came to him in
his house to eat a soup or broth, which was called the butcher-broth.
Now there lived in this village a farmer who was avaricious, and yet he
dared not to refuse the children the soup; then thought he of a cunning
way by which he might make them sick of the soup-eating; and he cut into
it the sour crumb of the bread.
When the boys and girls came, Owlglass also was among them, and he let
them come in, and closed the doors and poured out the soup, and the
broth was more than the children could eat; when one of them was full
and was going away, the farmer had a rod with the which he struck him,
so that each child was forced to eat more than it wished. The host knew
well of the knavery of Owlglass, and therefore when that he was beating
another child he always bestowed some hearty strokes upon him. And this
did he for so long, as that they had ended all the eating, and that they
felt like the dogs after grass-grazing. Thereafter would no one go unto
the stingy farmer’s house to eat the butcher-broth.
The Ninth Adventure.
_How Owlglass brought it about that the stingy farmer’s poultry drew for
baits._
The next day, when he that had beaten the children went forth, Owlglass
met him, and he said unto Owlglass: “Dear Owlglass, when wilt thou come
again to eat the butcher-soup at my house?” “Yea, that will I,” answered
Owlglass, “when thy poultry draw for baits, and four and four together
fight for a little bread.” Then said the other: “Wilt thou be so long?”
But Owlglass said: “An if I came ere the time of the fat soup hath
come?” Then he went on his way and thought over it until the time that
the man’s poultry ran about the streets; then had Owlglass some twenty
strings tied together at the midst, and at either end of the string was
a morsel of bread hanging. These took he and threw to the poultry. When
then the fowls here and there picked up and swallowed the bread, they
could not keep hold, for at the other end another fowl was pulling, so
that they were contending, and thus from the size of the bread they
could not get rid of it, and so stood more than thirty fowls one over
against the other and in throttling ran a wager.
The Tenth Adventure.
_How Owlglass was again moved of his mother to depart to a foreign land,
that he might learn a handicraft._
After that Owlglass had played a bitter knavery somewhere, so that he
might not dare show himself, he sat at home with his mother; and she,
with many words, continually chid him, in that he would learn no craft
to get money thereby. And she spake unto him saying, that he should
depart into a foreign land, that he might there profit somewhat. But his
mother had just killed a pig and so long as our good master Owlglass
knew that any of it remained he would not quit. The mother of Owlglass
thereat scolded him, until that he agreed to set forth, and made a small
bundle of clothes and food, and, at length, went his way. Soon our wise
master felt hungry, and thereat took forth from his wallet the provision
he had, and did eat until there was none left. Thereafter did he not
tarry long on thought, but when that it was dark, came again to the
house of his mother. Then went he up to the garret and lay among the
straw, where he slept lustily until the day had broken, then wake he up
by reason of a noise he did hear in the neighbour’s court. And Owlglass
did look forth, and beheld a fox stealing the poultry from the roosting
place. Then could Owlglass no longer keep silent, but cried with a loud
voice: “Alas! thou cunning thief, an if I were not in a far country from
this, it would go hard with thee but I would kill thee.” Then heard the
mother of Owlglass what he said, and came and marvelled not a little at
beholding him.
The Eleventh Adventure.
_How Owlglass crept into a bee-hive, how two thieves came by night to
steal honey, what honey they did steal, and how Owlglass made it to come
to pass, that the thieves did fight one with the other, and did leave
the bee-hive standing._
Upon a time went Owlglass with his mother to the dedication of the
church.[9] And at the feast there he drank so much, did our good
Owlglass, that he was tired, and he sought a place where he might lie
down to sleep in peace. Then found he a yard where stood many bee-hives,
and some were empty, and into one of these crept he privily and thought
to sleep awhile; behold he slept from midday till midnight, and his
mother thought surely that he had departed homeward again, as she
nowhere could see him. That same night came two thieves and they had it
in mind to steal a hive of honey, and they conferred together, in that
they heard it said that the heaviest is also the best.
[Illustration: HOW OWLGLASS CATCHETH THE THIEVES.]
Then did they lift up one after the other to see the which might be the
most heavy, and at last came they to the one in which lay good master
Owlglass; and it was the heaviest of all. Then spake the one to the
other, saying: “Here is the best among the bee-hives.” So took they that
one and carried it away, but wist not what good burden they bare. Good
Master Owlglass, feeling the motion, thereupon awoke up, and heard what
they said about stealing honey; and he rejoiced in himself to think what
honey they had stolen. It was now so dark that ye could not see your
hand before ye, an if ye even held it up to your eyes. Then put Owlglass
his hand from out of the bee-hive, and caught hold of the foremost thief
by the hair and pulled it until he roared. And the thief was very angry
at the one who was behind, and thought it was he who had plucked him by
the hair. Then spake the one who was behind him, saying: “Dost thou
dream, or goest thou to sleep? How could I pluck thee by the hair?
Hardly, is it possible for me to hold the bee-hive with both my hands.”
Then laughed Owlglass within himself at what the thief said, and thought
that the game would go better in a while after, and waited till they had
got a fine distance further forward. Then put he out his hand again, and
plucked the hindmost smartly by the hair; and the hindmost man became
yet more angry and said: “Thou sayest I pluck thee by the hair and I
bear the bee-hive till I break my neck, and now thou pluckest me by the
hair thyself.” Then answered the foremost: “I pull thee by the hair?
thou liest in thy throat. I cannot see my way before my face, and yet
sayest thou: I pluck thine hair, quotha!” Thus with many revilings did
they carry the hive along. And, as they were thus quarreling the one
with the other in great choler and wrath, Owlglass plucked the foremost
one by the hair again, and that so hard that he knocked his head against
the hive. Thereat grew he angry, and let down the hive, and took his
fellow by the head. That did also the other, and did manfully resist the
blows of his comrade. Then fought they until they fell down in the dark
and neither of them could behold the other, for the darkness continued
very thick. Thus lost they their way and fled asunder with a great cry,
and the bee-hive stood in the place where they had left it. Then
Owlglass lay down again at ease to sleep until dawn; and when that it
was light he thanked his stars that by this adventure it was shown him
that he should see the world. And then gat he up from out of the
bee-hive and did take a road, which lay before him, having a good heart
that by his wit, wisdom, and knavery, he would live a merry and happy
life in his time, and not die unhonoured of those that should come after
him.
-----
Footnote 9:
Feasts of the Dedication. These feasts, common in Germany, were also
not uncommon, even to the present century, in parts of England. They
were held in the churchyard on the anniversary of the day of the
parish church being dedicated for divine service. See in _Tom Brown’s
School Days_ (p. 30), a recent eloquent country-book, for a mention of
this as applying to Berkshire.
The Twelfth Adventure.
_How Owlglass for little money did have a singing bird for his dinner._
In no long time thereafter, came Owlglass to Würzburg and there entered
he into a good inn. Now the host of the inn had a singing bird hanging
up in the house by the which he set great price, for it could sing
divers merry ditties and songs of marvellous choiceness. Then said
Owlglass unto him: “What take ye for this bird!” Then the host, who was
of a miserly mind, answered him a great sum, the which Owlglass would
not give him, yet at last they agreed that Owlglass should have the bird
for four shillings. Then spake Owlglass: “Take ye the bird and roast it
for my dinner, I would fain have a bit of him.” Thereat marvelled the
host, and did much pity the bird; but his miserly love overcame him.
Then was the bird killed, plucked, and made ready. When that it was
roasted, the landlord brought it on a dish to Owlglass; then spake
Owlglass, and commanded the host that he should cut him therefrom a
piece for six pennies; for he had not said he would pay for a whole
bird, but only for a part thereof which he was fain to eat. Thereat
marvelled the host still more, yet what could he say thereupon. He that
is wise sayeth but little when the beguiler is nigh at hand, so the host
held his tongue and the knave Owlglass departed thence in haste.
The Thirteenth Adventure.
_How Owlglass did eat the roasted chicken from off the spit._
In the land of Brunswick there lieth a village, within the government of
Magdeburg, and the name of it is called Budenstadt; thither came
Owlglass and did present himself unto the priest there, and the priest,
thinking our wise and pious master Owlglass a good and proper fellow,
did then hire him for a servant in his house, but little did he know
him. And the priest spake unto him, saying that he should have a good
time of it and a good service. Also should he have meat and drink as
good as his maid-servant, and all that he did should be done with half
labour. Then did Master Owlglass agree with him, and said that he would
do according to his word. Then he saw that the cook had but one eye. On
that day took she two young chickens and she put them on the spit to
roast over the fire. And she bade Owlglass turn, and so he did; and when
the chickens were roasted, he brake one away off from the spit, and did
eat it without any bread, for he remembered well what the priest had
told him as to faring as well as himself and the maid-servant, and he
thought it might be that he would lose his part of the dinner. And when
that it was dinner-time, there came into the kitchen the one-eyed
cook-maid to baste the chickens. Then beheld she but one chicken on the
spit. Then spake she to Owlglass: “Behold, there were two chickens on
the spit, and now there is but one, and tell me now where is the fellow
that was beside it.” Then answered Owlglass: “Woman, do but open your
other eye, and you will behold the other chicken on the spit.” Now when
he thus spake of the want of her eye, she waxed wroth, and ran unto the
priest, and said unto him that he might look how his new serving-man was
doing. That she had put two chickens on the spit, and lo! there was but
one at this time. And she said: “Then he mocked me, and said that I had
but one eye.” Thereat went the priest into the kitchen, and spake unto
Owlglass, saying: “Hearest thou, Owlglass! wherefore didst thou mock my
serving-maid? I see well that only one chicken is now upon the spit, and
yet know I truly that there were two. Where then is now the other?” Then
said Owlglass: “It is yet thereon; open both your eyes, and you will
well see that there be the twain upon the spit. So said I also to thy
maid, and thereat grew she quite angry and wroth.” Then the priest
laughed, and said: “The serving-maid cannot open both her eyes, for in
good truth she hath but one.” Owlglass made answer to the priest,
saying: “That sayest thou, not I.” But then said the priest: “Yet it is
so; but the one chicken is in any wise gone.” Owlglass spake then and
said: “That chicken have I eaten myself, according unto thy words. For
ye said unto me that I should fare as well as your maid-servant; and
much grief would it have caused me had ye eaten the chickens without me,
and made your words vain and a lie. Therefore for your honour’s sake
have I eaten the chicken, that ye might not fall into evil reputation
for speaking that which is untruth.” Then the priest was content and
said: “Dear serving-man, I care not for the roasted chicken; but after
this time do ye always according to the will of my cook.” And Owlglass
said: “Yea, holy father and worshipful master, be it so done as you
will.” Then whatsoever the cook-maid commanded Owlglass that he should
do, that did he but in the half. An if she did bid him to bring a pail
of water from the well, he brought but the half thereof, and if he
should fetch two faggots from the wood pile then brought he but one. And
so did he, and she saw well that it was all performed in that she might
be spited thereat. Then spake the priest once again unto him, and said:
“Lo, my well beloved serving-man Owlglass, let me tell ye that my maid
doth complain right grievously of thee.” Thereat said Owlglass: “Yea,
master, yet have I never done except according unto thy words. For thou
didst say, that all I did should be done with but half labour. Well
would your serving maid desire to see with both eyes and yet hath she
but one—which is but half-seeing, and therefore did I but half-labour.”
And thereat was the priest right merry, and laughed much; but his
servant was full of wrath, and said: “Master, an if ye keep yon knavish
rogue any longer then will I depart from ye.” Thus came it that the
priest was fain to send Owlglass away, yet forgat he him not; and it
fortuned that the parish clerk died, so he made Owlglass clerk in his
room. Thus, by foolishness and little knaveries, do men come in this
world to dignities and honours.
The Fourteenth Adventure.
_How that Owlglass did publish abroad that he would fly from off the
roof of the town-house at Magdeburg._
After that Owlglass had some time been clerk of the parish at
Budenstadt, came he into the great and famous town of Magdeburg, and
there did he fix upon the church doors letters of great import, so that
the name of Owlglass became well known and noised abroad through the
streets of that city of Magdeburg; and it was in the mouths of all the
gossips, that the noble Master Owlglass did purpose the doing of some
marvellous strange feat. And so it came to pass, that when the people
were all full of great wonder, that Owlglass spake unto them, saying: “I
will flee down through the air from the roof of the town-house.” Thereat
was there a great outcry through the city; and both young and old did in
great multitude crowd unto the market-place, that by them might this
most marvellous wonder be seen; for, in the memory of man, had not any
person ever done so strange a thing before, nor had without wings so
fled down through the air from that high place.
Then came Owlglass and stood upon the roof of the town-house, and did
make motion with his arms, waving them hither and thither, as if he
would flee down. And all the people gazed at his motion in great marvel,
for they thought he would flee down presently. Thereat laughed Owlglass
right merrily, and said unto the people: “Truly thought I, that nowhere
in the world was there a fool so great as am I. Yet here in this city do
I well see that ye are almost every one of ye fools; for when that ye
did say that I could flee down from where I stand, then believed I ye
not. I am not a goose, nor a bird, nor have I either feathers or wings
to flee with, without the which can nobody flee. Therefore manifestly
now do ye well see, that it is a deceit and a lie.”
Then came he down away from the roof of the town-house in the same
manner that he had gone up, and left the people standing. And some of
them laughed, and others said: “Although he is both knave and fool, yet
hath he spoken the truth.” Thus is it with many besides the people of
Magdeburg, who rush eagerly to believe that the which they might see is
most plainly untrue; while what is possible and within their means to
make them good sport, and serve them with good service, that neglect
they with great scorn and contempt.
The Fifteenth Adventure.
_How Owlglass did cure the sick folks in the hospital at Nürnberg in one
day, and what came thereafter._
On a time came Owlglass to Nürnberg, where he did again set upon the
church doors letters of great import, in the which he did publish abroad
that he was a learned physician, more learned than in the world had yet
been known; and that in all sicknesses, whosoever should turn to him
should have content and his health again.
Now in the hospital at the town were there a multitude of people, who
lay sick unto death, and of them did the master of that house crave in
great truth to be relieved. Right verily would this benevolent man have
given them their health and made them whole, and, if he could, have got
ridden of them in the house. Then went he unto Owlglass, the learned
physician, and spake with him, asking him whether he could, as in his
letters he set forth, work such marvellous cures. And Owlglass answered
and said: “Yea, if that the hospital-master would give unto him two
hundred pieces.” Then upon that conference did the master agree and
promise him the money; and Owlglass said unto him, that he would not
receive from him one penny, if the people did not all, within a few
days, leave the hospital of their own desiring and action. Thereat was
the master of the hospital very content, and gave unto Owlglass twenty
pieces as a hansell.
Thereafter went Owlglass into the hospital, and took with him two
servants; and he asked of each person that was sick, what it was that he
lay sick of, and they answered. And at the last he said unto each, that
he should not betray the secret which he should then tell unto them, and
that swore they all. Then he spake unto each secretly, saying: “If that
I should make ye whole, and give back unto all health and strength, then
must I needs burn one of ye into powder, the which to mingle with your
drink and give you to swallow, and with that will ye be made whole. Now
I will take from among ye the one that is most sick, and him will I burn
to powder. And I will stand at the door of the hospital, with the master
of the hospital near at hand, and I will cry with a loud voice: ‘He that
is not sick, let him now go forth from the house quickly.’ And that one
which is last within the hospital door, him will I take. Forget ye not
that in your sleep.”
Thus it came to pass, that all did remember his words; and when he stood
with the master at the door, the sick and lame, and halt and dying, all
came forth in haste, for none would be that one who should be burned in
fire. So the hospital was quite empty, for many which had not for ten
years arisen from their beds, now found their legs and departed thence.