In the time of King Louis, there lived in France a poor juggler, native
of Compiègne, named Barnabas, who went among the villages doing feats
of strength and skill. On market days he would spread out on the public
square an old carpet very much worn, and, after having attracted the
children and the gazing bumpkins by some suitable pleasantries which he
had adopted from an old juggler and which he never changed at all, he
would assume grotesque attitudes and balance a plate on his nose.
The crowd at first looked at him with indifference. But when, standing
on his hands with his head downward, he tossed in the air six copper
balls which glittered in the sun, and caught them again with his feet;
or when, by bending backward until his neck touched his heels, he gave
his body the form of a perfect wheel, and in that posture juggled with
twelve knives, a murmur of admiration rose from the onlookers, and
pieces of money rained upon the carpet.
However, like the majority of those who live by their talents, Barnabas
of Compiègne had much difficulty in living. Earning his bread by
the sweat of his brow, he bore more than his part of the miseries
connected with the fall of Adam, our father. Moreover, he was unable
to work as much as he would have wished. In order to show off his fine
accomplishment, he needed the warmth of the sun and the light of day,
just as do the trees in order to produce their blossoms and fruits.
In winter he was nothing more than a tree despoiled of its foliage
and to appearance dead. The frozen earth was hard for the juggler.
And, like the grasshopper of which Marie of France tells, he suffered
from cold and from hunger in the bad season. But, since he possessed a
simple heart, he bore his ills in patience.
He had never reflected upon the origin of riches, nor upon the
inequality of human conditions. He believed firmly that, if this world
is evil, the other cannot fail to be good, and this hope sustained him.
He did not imitate the thieving mountebanks and miscreants who have
sold their souls to the devil. He never blasphemed the name of God; he
lived honestly, and, although he had no wife, he did not covet his
neighbor’s, for woman is the enemy of strong men, as appears from the
history of Samson, which is reported in the Scriptures.
In truth, he had not a spirit which turned to carnal desires, and it
would have cost him more to renounce the jugs than the women. For,
although without failing in sobriety, he loved to drink when it was
warm. He was a good man, fearing God and very devout toward the Holy
Virgin. He never failed, when he entered a church, to kneel before the
image of the Mother of God and address to her this prayer:
“Madame, take care of my life until it may please God that I die, and
when I am dead, cause me to have the joys of paradise.”