Of these fifteen stories only three are the same as those gi

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

_Chap-Books

and

Folk-Lore Tracts._

_Edited by

G. L. Gomme, F.S.A.

and

H. B. Wheatley, F.S.A._

_First Series._

II.

THE HISTORY

OF

THE SEVEN WISE MASTERS

OF ROME.

PRINTED FROM

THE EDITION OF WYNKYN DE WORDE, 1520,

AND EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION,

BY

GEORGE LAURENCE GOMME, F.S.A.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR THE VILLON SOCIETY.

1885.

Introduction.

The history of the _Seven Wise Masters_ forms an important epoch in

the history of European popular stories, because it affords the most

remarkable evidence of the literary descent and origin of stories,

as distinct from a traditional descent. Professor Comparetti in

his _Researches respecting the Book of Sindibad_, published by the

Folk-Lore Society, Mr. Clouston in his _Bakhtyar Nama_ and in his

_Book of Sindibad_, two privately printed books, and Mr. Wright in his

_Sevyn Sages_, printed by the Percy Society in 1846, have practically

exhausted the literary history of this famous collection of stories.

Shortly summarised from these three sources the main facts are these.

There was an ancient original Indian book of stories which became so

popular that it was copied frequently, and thus handed down from one

generation to another. From this book two separate groups of texts

have descended. To the first belong all the texts in the Eastern

languages; to the other belong the _Dolopathos_, the _Historia Septem

Sapientum_, the _Erasto_, and other numerous texts of the various

European literatures of the Middle Ages. With the Eastern group

of texts we have now nothing to do beyond saying that Professor

Comparetti has restored, in the scholarly book above mentioned, the

form of the original text for the guidance of the modern student. The

Western group of texts has a history of its own quite apart from its

Eastern origin. It has kept the original framework, but it has varied

the setting; and this variation will be found of great interest to the

student of popular tradition. Before, however, we come to this part of

the subject, let us see the kind of work with which we are dealing. The

framework of the romance is as follows: A young prince, falsely accused

by the wife of the king, his father, of having attempted to offer her

violence, is defended by seven sages, who relate a series of stories

to show the deceits of women, the queen at the same time urging the

death of the accused prince by the example of stories told by herself.

This system of story-telling is practically the same as that adopted in

the _Arabian Nights_. Boccaccio adopted this plan in his _Decameron_;

Chaucer adopted it in his _Canterbury Tales_.

Among the Eastern texts is a famous one in Hebrew, dating as far

back as the first half of the thirteenth century. Under the title of

_Historia Septem Sapientum Romæ_, a Latin translation of this was made

by Dam Jehans, a monk of the abbey of Haute Selve, in the diocese of

Nancy, in the thirteenth century. The earliest printed copy of this

version that I have been able to find is one printed at Cologne in

1490, of which I shall say something a little further on.

It was through this Latin version that the work was communicated to

nearly all the languages of Western Europe; and in 1520 a translation

into English was printed by the famous printer Wynkyn de Worde. A fine

copy of this is preserved in the British Museum, and from it is printed

the text of the present version. One or two pages are missing from this

copy, and the passages are restored from the earliest chap-book version

which I have been able to discover—namely, that printed in 1671 at

London, and belonging to the British Museum. This chap-book version is

nearly identical with the Wynkyn de Worde, with the simple alteration

of the spelling to the modern forms. One curious variation, however,

illustrating the force of the change of religious opinions at the time

of the Reformation, is well worth noting. On page 173 of our text will

be found related how the murdered children of the Emperor Lodwyke were

found alive singing "of ye moost blessed vyrgyne Mary, aue Maria gracia

plena dn̄s tecum," but in the chap-book of 1671 it is said they were

singing praises to the Almighty.

Since 1671 many chap-book versions have been issued, and I have

succeeded in obtaining a copy still published in Dublin. These later

versions are all much deteriorated from the original. Besides the 1671

edition, there are the following: London 1684, 1687, and 1697; Glasgow

1713; London [1750]; Newcastle 1750; London 1780—7 [1785]; Boston 1794;

London 1805; Warrington 1815. And I have no doubt that it has been

continually reproduced until the present day.

Besides the closeness of the translation of the prose version of

Wynkyn de Worde, one curious feature to be noted is the series of

illustrations. It is well known that German woodcuts supplied English

books with illustrations,[1] and this is a good instance of the

practice. In the _Bibliographer_ (vol. ii. p. 70) Mr. W. M. Conway has

told the history of the woodcuts of the Lubeck edition of the _Seven

Wise Men_. It was first printed in April, 1488, with the name of Claes

Leeu, probably a brother of Gerard Leeu. In 1490 appeared another

edition printed at Cologne by J. Koelhof de Lubeck, to whom the blocks

must have been lent. He returned them to Leeu with the exception of

one, which was either retained by him or lost on the journey; and the

imperfect set, a new block being made by some other hand to replace

the lost one, was employed in the edition printed by Leeu on the 6th

November, 1490. One of the cuts (see p. 21) represents the Emperor

coming angrily into the chamber of his wife with a drawn sword in his

hand and reproaching her with her infidelity. She is seated on a chair

on the right, with her hands clasped in an attitude rather of shyness

than fear or remorse. One reason for this seems to be discoverable from

the fact that along the top of the bed behind, the words _Ave regina

coelorum_ can be traced carved in reverse; and it is quite possible

that the whole cut, with the exception of the figure of the Emperor,

was copied from some print representing the Annunciation.

Both these editions, that by J. Koelhof de Lubeck and that printed by

Gerard Leeu on 6th November, 1490, are in the library of the British

Museum, the latter under the title of _Historia de Calumnia Novercali_.

This book has a preface not contained in the other edition, and it

formed the subject of a communication to the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for

1767, p. 541, in a letter signed T. From this letter it would appear

that later editions were issued. The preface quoted in the letter is

the same as the preface in the British Museum copy, but the words of

the latter are much more contracted than the writer in the _Gentleman's

Magazine_ indicates was the case with his copy. This letter is, I

think, worth reproducing, as it conveys some useful information. It is

as follows:—

"I lately met with a mutilated copy of a book, which to me, at

least, appears a curiosity. It bears for its title, _Historia de

Calumnia Novercali_: an history now commonly sold at stalls for the

entertainment of English children, under the title of _The History of

the Seven Wise Masters_; with which last-mentioned book mine agrees as

to the substance and order of the tales, but differs considerably from

it in the form and manner of relating them.

"It is printed in sixteens, in the common Gothic character of the time

(the beginning, as I judge, of the 16th century), an _English_ or

_black_ face approaching to a _Roman_, on a _pica_ body, and with many

abbreviations, and is ornamented with wooden cuts of the size of the

pages, which, considering their age, are by no means contemptible.

"The preface runs thus:—

"'Compositâ pridem _Calumniæ Novercalis Historia_ quæ _Septem

Sapientum_ dicitur, pulchro quidem argumento, pulchris etiam ac

memoratu dignis tractata exemplis, in utramq: partem & defensionis &

condemnationis sive vera sive ficta sit, nihil ad te attinere puto

mi _Gerarde_: magis autem quid doceat adverte, intelligimus ex ea &

qui sint malarum mulierum, & pravorum liberorum, & zelotyporum itemq:

delirorum senum aliarumq: personarum mores atq: fortunæ variâ ratione,

ut quid caveri quidve eligi oporteat agnoscamus. Cum autam nominum

quorundam ratio temporibus satis respondere visa non esset, & textus

nimium fluxus minimeq: cohærens videretur non indignum judicavi quo

tibi morem gererem id postulanti, paululum mutatis verbis obmissisq:

nominibus ne legentem offendant, re ipsa integra servata, hanc

narationem efferre; ne quid inventori laudis aut inventioni veritatis

detractum esse videatur: imposito potius nomine _Calumniæ Novercalis_

qualis & Phædræ fuit is Hyppolitum; et simili quoq: genere uxoris

Putipharis in Joseph Hebræum; & senum illorum in Susannam; ut eo nomine

historia hæc majorem notitiam gratiamq: apud lectores sit habitura.'

"From hence it appears that this book is an alteration and improvement

of a more ancient work, intitled _Historia Septem_ _Sapientum_, and,

as the particulars here said to be altered are retained unaltered in

the English translation, it should seem that the English history is

translated from a performance of a more early date than this."

The woodcuts of the Wynkyn de Worde are not identical with the Cologne

edition, but copies, having been decidedly improved. All these are

reproduced in facsimile in the present edition. Owing to the missing

pages, one or two of these illustrations are not given in the British

Museum copy. The Cologne edition contains a frontispiece plate, one

after the first two as printed on pages 4 and 8 of our text, and two

printed at the end of the book, making four in all, which are not

contained in the British Museum copy of the Wynkyn de Worde.

We will now consider the stories given in this version of the _Seven

Wise Masters_. Although the framework, as I have pointed out, is

ancient, the setting has been altered. The stories that suited Eastern

fancy did not suit Western; and accordingly we have a considerable

variation. In order to have the stories clearly before us, the

following analysis will be found useful:—

(1.) _The first example of the Empress._—In the garden of a Roman

burgess was a tree famed for its cure of all diseases—the burgess one

day discovered a "fair young imp"—this was planted and put under the

care of the gardener—the young tree did not flourish—the burgess

commanded the branches of the overshading old tree to be cut down

to the ground—the young tree then did not flourish—the burgess

commanded the old tree to be cut down to the ground—the young tree

died.

(2.) _The example of the first Master._—A knight had one son—also

a greyhound and a falcon—the knight went to a tourney—a serpent

in the hall attacked the child—the falcon roused the attention of

the greyhound—the greyhound fought the serpent and killed it—the

greyhound, wounded, went and laid down by the cradle of the child,

which became covered with his blood—the nurses coming in thought the

child was killed by the greyhound—they tell their mistress, who tells

the knight—the knight kills the greyhound—he afterwards discovers his

error and repents.

(3.) _The second example of the Empress._—An Emperor had a forest in

which was a boar that destroyed all men going through the forest—the

Emperor proclaimed that whoever should slay the boar should marry

his daughter—a shepherd by stratagem slew the boar, and married the

daughter.

(4.) _The example of the second Master._—In a city there was an

ancient knight who had married a young wife—there was a law or custom

in that city that whoever was found in the streets after the ringing of

a certain bell should be put in the pillory—the wife had a paramour,

and every night she went to her lover. One night the husband woke and

missed his wife, and on her return would not let her in—she went to

the well and pretended to drown herself—the husband came out of the

house to help his wife out of the well—she then ran into the house

and locked the doors, and her husband being found in the streets by

the watch, was taken to prison and on the morrow put in the pillory.

(5.) _The third complaint of the Empress._—There was in Rome a

knight that had two daughters and one son—the knight, by hunting and

tournaments, spent all his substance. There was an emperor at that time

who had a tower full of gold—the knight and his son agreed to steal

some of the gold—the keeper of the tower put a vessel full of pitch

that the robber might fall in—the second time the knight and his son

went the knight fell into the pitch—the son cut off the father's head

and hid it, that the body should not be recognized—the daughters of

the knight made a great outcry on seeing their father's body dragged

through the streets—the son then wounded himself, and the officers

believed his story that it was on account of his wound that his sisters

made lamentations.

(6.) _The example of the third Master._—There was a rich burgess that

had a "pie" which he loved and taught to speak—his wife had a lover

who visited her in the absence of the burgess—the pie threatened to

tell the burgess—the wife imitated rain and hail and snow on the

bird's cage and nearly killed her—when the burgess returned the pie

told him that his wife's lover had stayed all night with her, and that

the hail, rain, and snow that night had nearly killed him—the master

hearing that the night had been quite fine, killed the bird, thinking

it had told lies—he afterwards found out the truth.

(7.) _The fourth example of the Empress._—There were once seven wise

masters who governed Rome under an Emperor, who by their artifices

they made blind whenever he left the palace—the Emperor, on pain of

death, desired the seven wise masters to cure him—the masters discover

a child who shewed the meaning of dreams—they brought him to the

Emperor—the child discovered in the Emperor's bedchamber a well which

had seven springs—the child commanded the wise masters to be killed,

one at a time, and thrown into the well—the well and springs vanished.

(8.) _The example of the fourth Master._—There was an old knight who

married a young wife—the wife wished to have a lover, but on the

persuasion of her mother tried the knight three times: 1st, by cutting

down a favourite tree—2nd, by killing a favourite hound—3rd, by

destroying everything on the table at a banquet. The two first the

knight forgave, the third time he brought a barber who opened veins in

the wife's arms—the wife thereupon said she would be content with her

husband.

(9.) _The fifth example of the Empress._—There reigned in Rome an

Emperor who was covetous and loved gold above all things.—In the city

was a wise master who made a tower, and in it as many images as there

were provinces governed by Rome, and when there was any rebellion or

dispute in these distant provinces the images rang a bell, and so

informed the people. The kings of these provinces consulted together

how best to defeat Rome. Four knights undertook to get the images

and tower destroyed if they could have four tons of gold—they took

this and went to Rome—and represented themselves as soothsayers, and

pretended to discover by dreams quantities of gold which they had

previously hidden—they obtained permission of the Emperor to dig

under the tower for more gold—undermined the tower and rode away—the

counsellors of the Emperor put him to death for betraying the image to

their enemies.

(10.) _The example of the fifth Master._—There was a famous physician

named Ypocras—he had a nephew named Galienus, who in time excelled

Ypocras—the king of Ungary sent for Ypocras to cure his son—Ypocras

sent Galienus instead—Galienus on seeing the sick child said to

the queen that the king was not its father, and demanded to know

who was—the queen told him the truth and Galienus cured the child.

Ypocras on hearing from Galienus that he had cured the child killed

him by craft—Ypocras was taken grievously sick, and his scholars

and disciples were unable to heal him—He knew that for the death of

Galienus he was made sick—confessed from envy he had slain him, and

died.

(11.) _The sixth example of the Empress._—There was a king

marvellously deformed in his visage so that women hated and abhorred

him—the king desired his steward to bring a fair and beauteous

woman, and promised a large sum of money to the woman—the steward

from covetousness insisted on his own wife going to the king and thus

obtaining the money—the king found out that the steward had undone

his own wife, banished him on pain of death and kept the wife. The king

assembled a great army to conquer Rome, but by the stratagems of seven

wise masters there was defeated with great slaughter and killed.

(12.) _The example of the sixth Master._—There was an emperor of Rome

who had three knights whom he loved above all others. There was also in

the city an ancient knight who had a fair young wife—this wife would

sit at her window looking into the street and sing. The three knights

at different times passed her window and fell in love with her—they

each offered her a hundred florins—she consented to receive them,

promising to send for them on a suitable opportunity. She told her

husband, and suggested that when the knights came he should kill them

and keep the hundred florins—the husband consented and killed each of

the knights—the wife got her brother to dispose of the first body, and

by telling him the corpse had come back again, of the other two—the

husband afterwards quarrelled with his wife and struck her—she in

revenge told how he had murdered the three knights—they were both

drawn at a horse's tail and hanged.

(13.) _The seventh example of the Empress._—A king loved his wife

above all things and locked her up alwayes in a strong castle and

kept the keys himself. A knight in distant parts dreamed of a fair

queen whose love he would win—the queen dreamt the same night of

the knight—the knight travelled about till he came to the queen's

tower, and knew her for the lady of his dream.—He entered the king's

service—fought bravely, was made the king's steward, and gained

permission of the king to build a place adjoining the castle—He built

a secret passage to the queen's rooms—gained her love—she gave him

a ring the king had given her—the king saw the ring on the knight's

hand and demanded of the queen the ring he had given her—she showed it

to the king having previously got it back from the knight—the knight

asked the king to be present at a banquet at which would be his lady

love—presented the queen to the king as a lady of his own country—the

king after the banquet went to the queen's rooms, found her there, and

thought he had been mistaken a second time—the knight asked the king

to be present at his wedding and to give the bride away—the king gave

the queen to the knight and saw them sail away from the city—went back

to the castle and found out how he had been deceived.

(14.) _The example of the seventh Master._—A knight had a fair young

wife whom he tenderly loved—one day she cut her hand and the sight of

her blood killed her husband—she bewailed his death greatly—would

not leave the grave—her friends made a little house close by where

she might stay and get food. When a trespasser against the law was

hanged the sheriff was obliged to watch all night by the gallows, and

if the body was stolen the sheriff had to lose his land and his life.

It happened soon after that a man was hanged, and the sheriff watched

by the gallows—he saw the little house, asked permission to enter

to warm himself—the sheriff went back to the gallows and found the

body stolen—told the lady, who advised him, if he would marry her, to

take up her dead husband and hang him on the gallows in place of the

thief—when the body was dug up, the sheriff said he could not hang

her husband up as he was, the thief having lost two front teeth, his

ears, and was otherwise mutilated—the lady mutilated her husband in a

corresponding manner—she reminded the sheriff of his promise to marry

her—he refused, and killed her.

(15.) _The example of Dioclesian, the King's son._—A knight had one

son, who was sent away to learn, and returned well favoured—as they

sat at table a nightingale sang—the son interpreted the song to mean

that he should become great and be waited upon by his father and

mother—the knight was angered, and cast his son into the sea—the son

swam to land, from which he was rescued by a ship—the shipmen sold

him to a duke—the duke took him into favour—the king of the country

(Egypt) summoned his council to tell him why ravens followed him

wherever he went, and promised to give his daughter to him who would

interpret the event—the child, who went with the duke, interpreted

the event, and the ravens left the country—the king thereupon took

the child, Alexander, to live with him—before marrying his daughter,

Alexander asked leave to visit the court of Titus—leave was granted,

and he went and was much loved—there came also the son of the King of

France, Lodwyke—the two, Lodwyke and Alexander, were much alike—the

emperor had a daughter whom Lodwyke fell in love with—Alexander used

to attend her—she fell in love with him—he, however, allowed Lodwyke

to attend her in his stead—he assisted Lodwyke in his suit—presented

gifts to her three times on behalf of Lodwyke—finally she consented

to receive Lodwyke—the knights found out the intrigue, and sought

to slay Lodwyke, but Alexander defended his friend—letters came to

tell Alexander of the death of the King of Egypt—Alexander went to

Egypt—Lodwyke at parting gave him a ring—Guydo, son of the King of

Spain, then came to the court—he found out Lodwyke with the emperor's

daughter, and told the emperor—a day of battle between Lodwyke and

Guydo was appointed—Lodwyke was afraid to meet him, and by advice of

the emperor's daughter got the day of battle adjourned, and went to

Alexander—Alexander was going to be married to his betrothed—being

so like Lodwyke he agreed to take his place, and Lodwyke was to take

Alexander's place at the wedding, and to put a naked sword between

him and Alexander's wife on the night of their marriage—Alexander

went, as Lodwyke, and defeated and slew Guydo—Lodwyke, as Alexander,

married his betrothed and kept the compact of putting a sword between

them—when Alexander returned his wife, annoyed at him not loving

her the first night, would not accept his embraces—she grew to love

a knight, and by poison made Alexander a leper—he was driven from

Egypt—he travelled to Lodwyke's court (who had succeeded Titus on the

throne)—he made himself known to Lodwyke—Lodwyke asked his master

to cure his friend—they could not do so—the only cure was revealed

to Alexander in a dream—it was for Lodwyke to kill his two sons and

wash his body with the blood of them—Lodwyke does this, and his wife

afterwards agrees to it—Alexander is restored—the sons come to life

again—Lodwyke assists Alexander in the recovery of Egypt—after a

time he resolved to see his father and mother—he goes to them without

revealing himself—they wait upon him—he then reveals himself to them,

forgave them, and took them, honoured, to Egypt.

* * * * *

Of these fifteen stories only three are the same as those given in the

_Book of Sindibad_, as published by Professor Comparetti—namely, No.

2, the example of the first Master, which is told by the fifth Master

in the Sindibad version; No. 6, the example of the third Master, which

is told by the first Master of the Sindibad version; and No. 11, the

sixth example of the Empress, which is told by the fourth Master of the

Sindibad version. No. 3, the second example of the Empress, may perhaps

be a variant of the fifth example of the Empress in the Sindibad

version. The remaining stories then might, _prima facie_, be considered

of Western origin; and perhaps genuine Folk-Tales thus early enshrined

in literature. No. 4 is to be found in Peter Alfonsi's _Disciplina

Clericalis_ and in the Decameron. And Mr. Wright, in his Introduction

to The _Seuyn Sages_ (Percy Society), p. liii. says he heard the same

story told traditionally in an English country town of a townsman

who had a scolding unruly wife. No. 5 is a variant of the legend of

Rhampsinitus, king of Egypt, as told by Herodotus; and a similar

legend is given in Pausanias, lib. ix. c. 37. No. 7 contains some of

the incidents of Merlin's story told by the Chroniclers. No. 10, the

example of the fifth Master, is something like Campbell's "Fearachur

Leigh," No. xlvii. of his _Highland Stories_ (vol. ii. p. 161). No.

13 bears an analogy to the plot of the _Miles Gloriosus_ of Plautus.

Upon the entire question of the occurrence elsewhere of these stories I

would refer to Mr. Clouston's _Book of Sindibad_ privately printed in

1884.

There are one or two curious words and expressions which may be of use

to the philologist, but the reader will find that the language used

is mainly that of the present day with a different spelling. Some of

the difficulties of this style have been obviated by the insertion,

where necessary, of letters left out in contracted words, and these

insertions are printed in italics to distinguish them from the original.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

¶ Here begynneth thystorye of yᵉ vii. Wyse Maysters

of rome conteynynge ryghe (_sic_) fayre [et] ryght

ioyous narracōns, [et] to yᵉ reder ryght delectable.

Somtyme in yᵉ Cyte of Rome was an Emperour named Poncianus a man of

grete wysdome. He toke to his wyfe a kynges doughter that fayre [et]

goodly was, and to all people gracyous [et] to her husbonde ryght dere,

and cōceyued of hym and bare hym a sone named Dyoclesian. The chylde

grewe [et] of all people was beloued. And whan he was of the aege of

seuen yeres, his moder thempresse fyll sore seke / felynge herselfe

that she myghte not lyue: sent after her lorde themperour a messenger

that he sholde come without taryenge yf euer he wolde see her on lyue.

And whan he was comen she sayd vnto hym, O my lorde of this īfyrmyte

may I not escape. Wherfore I humbly requyre you of a lytell petycyon

before my deth. He answered, Desyre what ye wyll, for I shall nothynge

denye you. Then sayd she, After my deth ye shall take an other wyfe

as it behoueth. I aske [et] pray you yᵗ she upon my son̄ haue no

gouernaūor power, but yᵗ he be kepte and nourysshed fer from her, [et]

yᵗ he may gete to hym connynge and wysdome. The Emperour sayd, My

moste dere wyfe, your petycyon in all thynges shall be fulfylled [et]

perfourmed. This sayd she torned her towardes the wall and yaue vp the

goost [et] dyed. Many dayés after yᵉ Emperour bewáyled [et] morned her

deth, [et] longe tyme after her buryenge he shewed his heuynes [et]

sorowe, [et] wold ī no wyse mary or be ioyful.

[Illustration]

How the Emperoure to the seuen wyse maysters commytted and delyuered

his sone to lerne.

Upon a tyme as the emperour laye in his bed he bethought hym inwardly

vpon his sone, sayenge in his herte, I haue only but one sone yᵉ whiche

shall be myn heyre. It is good whyles he is yonge that he be sette to

lerne connynge and wysdome by the whyche he maye after my dethe gouerne

[et] rule the empyre. Erly whan he was rysen vp from his bedde, he

lete to be called afore hym his lordes of his counseyll and of them

toke aduyse what best therin was to done. And they answerd, Lorde, in

Rome are vii wyse maysters they excelle and excede all other men in

cunnynge [et] lettrature, lete them be sent for and delyuer to them

your sone to nourysshe [et] to lerne. That vnderstandynge the emperour

sent his letters sealed with his seale to yᵉ vii. maysters that they

incontinent sholde come to hym without delay. And they anone came

before themperour. and he demaū yf they knewe wherfore yᵗ he had sente

for them. They answered the cause ne your wyll we knowe not / but yf

please you to shewe vs your mynde [et] entent we ben redy to fulfyll

it to the vttermoste of our powers. To whome yᵉ noble Emperour sayde,

I haue but one sone the which I shal delyuer vnto you to nourysshe and

to teche. so that by your doctryne [et] wysdome he maye the more wysly

guyde and gouerne yᵉ empyre after my decesse.

[Illustration]

¶ The fyrste mayster named Pantyllas sayde, Lorde delyuer too me your

sone [et] I shall teche hym as moche connȳge wᵗin vii. yere as I and

all my felowes can. Then spake the seconde mayster that named was

Lentulus, Syr of longe tyme I haue serued you, [et] hytherto I haue had

no maner reward. I demaunde nothyng elles of you but that ye delyuer me

your sone to lerne and gouerne. and I shall make hym as connynge within

vi. yere as I [et] all my felowes be. The thyrde mayster sayd that

had to name Craton, My lorde many tymes haue I ben with you vpon the

se in peryll of my lyfe / [et] of you haue I had no maner of rewarde,

yf that I myghte for my rewarde obteyne that ye wolde wouchesauf to

commytte your sone vnder my rule [et] gouernaunce, I sholde enfourme

hym as moche within v. yere. yf his wit therto wyll attayne as I

and my felowes can. Tho stode vp the fourth mayster that to name

had Malquydrac ryght lene of body [et] sayd, My lorde calle to your

remembraunce how that I and al my predecessours haue serued emperours

[et] haue receyued no maner of rewarde. Wherfore I shal aske none other

thȳge but yᵗ ye wyll delyuer me your sone to enfourme [et] teche / [et]

I shall make hym to take asmoche scyence [et] wysdome within foure

yere as I and al my felowes haue lerned in all our lyues. Than spake

yᵉ fyfth mayster yᵗ was called Joseph, lorde I am old [et] many tyms

I am called to your coūseyl / [et] yᵗ my coūseyll ye knowe well hath

auayled [et] p_er_fyted you [et] yet I folowe yᵉ same. But I desyre no

more saue to delyuer me your sone [et] I shal enstructe [et] enfourme

hȳ in as moche conynge [et] scyence that he wᵗin iii yere shal profyte

[et] wyte as moche as I [et] alle my felowes. tho came forth the syxte

mayster that was named Cleophas whiche sayd lyke the other p_ro_mysynge

to lerne [et] enfourme yᵉ chylde in alle theyr connynges wᵗn two yere.

The seuenth muyster (_sic_) rose vp [et] sayd, which also desyred the

chylde [et] promysed for to lerne hym wᵗin one yere n̄ scyences and

wysdome of them all. As all this was done. Than the Emperour sayde

my trusty frendes I am moche bounden to thanke you all, and euery of

you, for that eueryche of you haue so effectuelly desyred my sone to

nouryssh [et] lerne. If I sholde now commytte hym to one and not to an

other / therof sholde come yᵉ descencyon [et] varyaunce amonges you.

Therfore to you al [et] euery of you I commyt my sone to nourysshe

and to teche. The maysters heryng this wᵗ. grete thankȳges gyuynge

to the Emperoure toke [et] receyued his sone, and ladde hym towardes

the courte of Rome. ¶ Upon the waye spake Craton to his felowes, If

we this chylde sholde lerne within the Cyte of Rome there is so grete

resorte [et] concourse of people that it sholde hynder [et] lette hym

in his lernynge [et] fantasyenge. I wote a fayre place withoute rome

thre myle ryght pleasaunte [et] delectable: there lete vs do make a.

iiii square cha_m_ber of stone [et] put hȳ therin [et] vpō yᵉ walles

of yᵉ syde lete vs paȳte [et] wryte yᵉ .vii. artes lyberales, so yᵗ yᵉ

chylde al times may se [et] beholde therin his doctrine as wel as in

his boke [et] th_i_s aduyse [et] counseyll pleased theym all. and was

done accordynge in euery poynte. The maysters dylygently euery daye

durynge .vii. yere taught [et] lettred the chylde. whiche maysters

determyned amonge themselfe and sayde / It is good yᵗ we examen our

dyscyple how he is spedde in connynge [et] scyence. They al accorded to

the same. Tho sayd mayster Pancyllas / howe shall we proue hym. Craton

sayde, Lete euery of vs as he slepeth put vnder euery corner of his bed

an olyue leue, and than we shall knowe yf he perceyued or felte ony

thynge or not, this done he wakynge gretely marueyllynge lyftynge vp

his eyen towarde yᵉ rofe of the chamber feruently. The maysters seynge

yᵗ sayd. Wherfore lyft ye vp your eyen so sharply. He answered it is

no merueyll, for in my slepe I saw the vppermost parte of the chamber

inclyned towarde the erthe, or vnder me it was lyfte vp. This hery_n_ge

yᵉ maysters sayd amonge themselfe, Yf this childe may lyue he shal be a

man of grete connȳge [et] fame.

[Illustration]

How the Emperour by the coūseyll of yᵉ grete pry_n_ces [et] lordes of

his Empyre wedded an other wyfe.

The prynces and grete lordes of the Empyre in the meane tyme came to

the Emperour [et] sayd, My lorde ye haue only but one sone, it is

possyble yᵗ he myght happen to dye. And therfore it were profytable

that ye sholde wedde an other wyfe to engendre and make mo chyldren to

thentente that the Empyre of Rome be not lefte without heyre. Also ye

are so myghty that yf it sholde happen you to gete many chyldren ye

may promote [et] auaunce them all to grete dygnytees and lordshyppes.

Therupon answerde themperour, It is your counseyll that I shall take

an other wyfe, than seke me one yᵗ is gracyous / pure vyrgyne fayre

and gentyll borne, [et] than shall I folowe your counseyll and aduyse.

They went [et] sought and serched many kyngdomes and londes [et] at the

laste they founde the kynges doughter of Castyle that ryght fayre was

[et] beateuouse, [et] her they gaue the Emperour to wyf. She behad her

so well that anone in her loue he was taken so sore that he forgate and

put in oblyuyon all the heuynesse [et] sorowe of his herte that he had

taken for yᵉ deth of his fyrste wyfe. And they lyued longe togyder

wᵗout chyldren. And as Thempresse sawe yᵗ she myght not cõceyue for she

herde yᵗ themperour had a sone wᵗ seuen wyse maysters to lerne [et]

nourysshe to yᵉ behouffe [and] p[ro]fyte of Thempyre, she thought in

herself [et] wysshed his deth. And from yᵗ houre forth she ymagyned how

she myght conspyre his deth. It hapned on a nyght as yᵉ Emperour lay in

his bed, he sayd to thempresse, My [most dear and best beloved wife, I

shall now open to you the secrets of my heart, for under the sun there

is no creature that I love so well as you and therefore trust in my

love.

[Then said the fair Empress: if it be so as you say, I require of you,

a little boon or petition. Desire what you will, said the Emperor and

all that to me is possible, I shall fulfil, and give it to you. Then

said the Empress, my dear Lord, you know I have no child yet by you

conceived for which I am sore pensive and heave; but Fame that never

conceals it self long to true joy, hath delivered this happy truth

to me; that ye have one Son only the which is sent to the seven Wise

Masters to be taught and governed, and him I hold and require for my

own son: wherefore I beseech ye send for him that I may see him and

have consolation of his presence, as though he were mine own. Hereupon

answered the Emperor it is sixteen years past since I saw him, your

will shall be fulfilled. Incontinent the Emperor sent unto the seven

wise Masters a Letter sealed with his secret Sign, that upon pain of

death they should bring his son in the feast of Penticost following.

[Illustration]

[How the seven Wise Masters after the sight of the

Emperor's letter would first observe the course and

divine for shewing of the Firmament, and Planets,

whether it were good to obey his commandment or not.

[And when the Masters by the letter had understood the Emperors will

in the night they went and beheld the stars in the Firmament, whether

it would be expedient to bring the child to the Emperor or not? and

they saw clearly in the stars, that if they should lead the child in

that time assigned, at the first word he should speak he should die

an evil death: wherefore they were all very sorry; and as they beheld

another star, they saw, that if they delivered not the child at the day

aforesaid, they should lose their heads. Then said one of them of two

evils the least is to be chosen: it is better that all we die, than

that the child should lose his life: therefore that we may save the

childs life let us go to the Emperor. And as they were thus sorrowful,

the child came down from his chamber, and seeing his Masters so heavy,

he demanded the cause of their heaviness: whereunto they answered: Sir,

we have received your Fathers Letters that upon pain of death, now this

high feast of Penticost we shall lead you to your countrey, whereupon

we have beholden the firmament, wherein we clearly find, that if we

(within the time prefixed) present you to your father, at the first

word that ye shall pronounce out of your mouth ye shall be to the most

vilest death condemned. Then said the child, I must also behold the

Firmament with the stars: and so he did; and found clear in a little

star, that if he could abstain from speaking seven dayes, he should

be preserved and save his life. And after he had seen this, he call'd

his Masters and shewed them the star, and said Behold my dear Masters,

I see perfectly in the star, that if I abstain myself seven daies, I

shall save my life. Ye are now seven Masters, the wisest of all the

world, it is an easie thing for you, every of you for me one day to

answer and with your wise answer every of you his day, my life may

save and keep; and in the eighth day I shall speak my self, and save

my life and all you from peril. As the Masters did behold that certain

star, they thought with themselves that the child had said truth,

saying, Almighty God be thanked, that the wisdom and cunning of our

Disciple exceedeth us all. Then said the first master Pantillus, Lord,

I shall speak for you the first day, and save your life. And Lentulus,

the second master said I shall for you the second day answer; and so

consequently every of them promised to answer for himself his day; and

this said, they cloathed the child in purple, leaped on horseback with

a fair company and hasted with the child to the Emperor.

[How the Emperor rode to meet his son coming from study with Joy,

Solemnity and Triumph.]

Whan themperour perceyued yᵗ his sone was comynge upon yᵉ waye, he rode

with grete joye to mete hym. The maysters vnderstandyng the comynge of

themperour sayd to the chylde, It is best that we departe, [et] in the

meane whyle we maye p_ro_uyde how we may saue your lyfe. The chylde

sayd it pleaseth me well that ye so doo, but haue mynde of me in tyme

of my necessyte. As they that herde, they toke theyr leue and departed

towardes yᵉ Cyte. The chylde came after accompanyed ryght honourably.

And as he and his fader themperour were mette, for joye [et] gladnesse

he toke hym about the necke [et] kyssed hym and sayd, My dere sone how

is it with you / is it (_sic_) longe sythen that I sawe you. He bowed

downe his hede and answerd no thynge. The fader had grete wonder why

that he spake not and thought in himselfe that his maysters had hym so

enformed that he rydynge sholde not speke. And whan they were comen to

the palays and were descended from theyr horses, The fader toke his

sone by the honde [et] lad hym in to the hall and set hym next hym

[et] behelde him and sayde, Say me how it is with your maysters, [et]

how they haue enformed you, for now it is many yeres syth I saw you.

He enclyned downe his hede [et] gaue none answere. The fader sayd,

wherfore speke ye not to me. And whan thempresse herde that themperours

sone was comen she was ryght joyous and glad, [et] sayd I wyl goo to

se hym. She apparaylled her with ryche vesture [et] atyre, [et] toke

with her two of her gentylwymen [et] went there as yᵉ emperour was

syttȳge wᵗ his sone she sette her downe by yᵉ chylde. [et] she sayd to

themperour is this your sone yᵗ hath ben nourysshed wᵗ yᵉ seuen wyse

maysters. [et] he sayd / it is my sone / but he speketh not. She sayd,

Delyuer to me your sone, [et] if euer he spake I shall do hym speke.

Tho sayd themperour ryse [et] go wᵗ her. The sone dyde reuere_n_ce to

yᵉ fader, as thoughe he sayd I am redy too accōplysshe your wyll, [et]

went wᵗ her.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Howe thempresse ladde Dioclesyan themperours sone

with her in her chamber for to make good chere wᵗ

hym the whiche he withstode.

Thempresse lad hym wᵗ her in to her chamber [et] commaunded all other

to auoyde [et] set hym by her afore her bedde, [et] sayd, O my best

beloued dyoclesyan, I haue moche of your persone [et] beaute herde,

but now I am glad yᵗ I may se you wᵗ myn eyen that my herte coueyteth

[et] loueth, for I haue caused your fader to sende for you / that I

haue solace [et] joy of your persone. Wherfore I wᵗout faute gyue you

knowledge that I for your loue vnto this daye haue kepte my vyrgynyte.

Speke to me [et] lete vs goo bed togyder. But he gaue her no worde to

answer. She seynge that sayd to hym, O good dyoclesyan haue the half

of my soule wherfore speke ye not to me / or at yᵉ leest shewe me some

token of loue / what shall I do, speke to me. I am redy to fulfyll and

perfourme your wyll. [et] whan she had thus sayd she embraced hy_m_

[et] wold haue kyssed hys mouth [et] he torned his vysage from her,

[et] in no wyse wolde cōsent. Tho sayd she ayen to hy_m_, O sone

wherfore do ye thus wᵗ me: beholde there is none yᵗ may se vs lete vs

togyder slepe / [et] than shall ye well p_er_ceyue yᵗ for your loue I

haue kept my vyrgynyte, and he torned his vysage frome her. She seynge

yᵗ he was of her ashamed shewed vnto hym her naked body and brestes and

sayde, beholde my sone what body I haue att your wylle, gyue me youre

consent or elles it shall be herde for me to passe with my ryght mȳde.

He neyther wᵗ sygne ne wᵗ countenaūce of vysage shewed her ony maner

of loue, but as much as he coude w_ith_drewe hy_m_ from her, whā she

sawe yᵗ she sayd, O my moste swete sone yf it please you not to cōsent

to me ne yet speke, haply for some resonable cause, Lo here is paper

pen [et] ynke yf ye wyl not speke wᵗ your mouth than wryte your wyl yᵗ

I ony tyme herafter may trust in your loue or not. The chylde wrote as

hereafter folowed, O lady god forbede yᵗ I sholde defoule my faders

orcheyerde, yf I shulde defoul it: I wote not what fruyte I shold haue

of it. I knowe wel one thȳge yᵗ I sholde syn̄ in yᵉ syghte of god

[et] I sholde ren in yᵉ maledictyon of my fader, [et] therfore from

hensforth prouoke or styre me no more therto / Whan she had yᵗ cedule

seen [et] red she brake it wᵗ her teth: [et] tare or rent her clothes

wᵗ her nayles to her nauyll. [et] her vysage al to scratched, it was al

blody, [et] cast from her al yᵉ ornamētes of her hede [et] cryed wᵗ a

loude voyce: come hither my lords [et] help me afore yᵗ ths rude [et]

euyll body shame [et] rauyssh me.

[Illustration]

Howe Thempresse complayned to themperour of the shame to her done by

his sone.

The Emperour was in his halle and herde the crye [et] noyse of

thempresse. he hastely ranne towardes his chambre [et] his knyghtes and

other of his seruauntes folowed hym after for to see what there was to

[be] done. Tho beganne thempresse to crye and to speke to themperour

thus, O my lorde haue pyte and compassyon vpon me, beholde this yonge

man is not your sone, but yᵉ foulest rybaude [et] harlot yᵗ euer was

borne, [et] a defouler of wymmen, for as ye knowe wel I lad and brought

hym with me in to my chamber, [et] sholde haue exhorted and caused

hym to haue spokē. I haue done asmoche therto as I can or may. [et]

whyles I with my wordes exhorted and meued hym for to haue spoken, he

hath endeuoyred hymself with me to haue synned. [et] by cause I wolde

not to hym consēte, but withstode as moche as I myght for to flee the

shame, he my vysage had made all blody, [et] my vesture and ornamentes

of my heed broken [et] all to torne, as ye may openly se: And yf ye had

not so sone comen vnto my callynge / he had accomplysshed in me his

mooste foule and worste wyll. whan themperoure this sawe and herd,

fulfylled wᵗ grete malyce [et] woodnesse / commaunded his seruauntes

that they sholde lede hym to the galowes [et] hange hym. And after his

lordes herde that sayde / Lorde ye haue no moo but this sone only. It

is not good yᵗ ye thus lyghtely putt hym to deth / the lawe is put and

ordeyned for transgressours [et] mysdoers, and yf it be so that he must

edeye, lete hym by yᵉ lawe dye leest that it be sayd yᵗ themperour

in his grete furour and Ire without lawe and Justyce he hath put his

only sone to dethe. As themperour this herde commaunded him to be put

in pryson vnto the tyme that iugement were gyuen ayenst hym. And whan

thempresse vnderstode that the chylde was not put to dethe / she cryed

[et] weped bytterly [et] wold haue no reste. whan the nyght was comen

the Emperour entred in to his chamber to go to bed. and founde his wyfe

wepynge [et] sorowyng. To whome he sayde, O my mooste dere lady / for

what cause are ye thus sorowfull. She answered, Knowe ye not how yᵗ

your cursed sone hath me thus moche shame done [et] offended / and ye

haue commaunded hym too be hanged and yet he lyued / [et] your worde is

not performed ne my shame is not wroken. Tomorowe sayde themperour he

shall dye by yᵉ lawe. Then sayd she, shalle he so longe lyue. Then̄e

myght it happen to you as it dyd vpon a burgeys of Rome of whome an

example is sayd. The Emperoure sayd, I praye you shewe me that example.

That shall I doo gladly sayd the Empresse.

_The Fyrst Example of the Empresse._

[In the city of Rome was a Burgess which had a fair Garden, wherein

he had a noble Tree, the which every year brought forth fruit of good

vertue for whosoever eat thereof that were sick of any manner of

sickness or leprosie he should soon be whole and receive his sight. It

happened on a day, as the Burgess went into his garden to visit the

Tree, he espied under the Tree a fair young Imp, and called to him the

Gardiner and said: my friend, of this young Imp I give thee charge

for I trust of that to plant a better Tree than this is. The Gardiner

said: I shall it gladly do. Another time the Burgess came again into

his garden to visit the young Plant, and it appeared unto him that it

grew not so much as it should do, and he said to the Gardiner: how may

this be and he said, it is no wonder, for this great Tree hath so great

arms and branches, that the air may not come to the root of the young

tree, then said the Burgess, cut and hew off the arms and the boughs,

that the air may come thereto. The Gardiner did as he commanded. The

Burgess came again another time to see the young plant, and thought

that it grew never the better and said to the Gardiner, what is it that

letteth this plant not to grow now: and he said, I suppose the height

of the Old Tree letteth the Sun, that the rain may not come thereto,

and therefore it cannot grow. Then said the Master unto him, hew down

that tree to the ground, for I hope of this Plant to have a better than

ever] this was. The gardyner heryng his mayster obeyed hym, [et] hewe

downe the tree. And as this was done yᵗ yonge plant all holy perysshed

and came to nought. wherof came grete harme, for whan yᵉ poore [et] the

seke people perceyued yᵗ the tree was so destroyed they cursed all them

that were of counseyll [et] helpers therto / by the whiche they all

afore tyme were heled [et] cured of theyr infyrmytees [et] maladyes.

Then sayd the Empresse vnderstande ye what I haue sayd. Yes ryghte

well. Than sayd she, I shall declare to you what I haue sayde.

[Illustration]

_The Declaratyon of the Example._

The History of the Seven Wise Masters of Rome · 第 1 / 9 段