One Hundred Merrie And Delightsome Stories Part 75

_Relates how a Spanish Bishop, not being able to procure fish, ate two partridges on a Friday, and how he told his servants that he had converted them by his prayers into fish--as will more plainly be related below._

If you wish, you shall hear now, before it is too late, a little story about a brave Spanish Bishop who went to Rome to transact some business for his master the King of Castille.

This brave prelate, whom I intend to make furnish this last story, arrived one day at a little village in Lombardy, it being then early on a Friday evening, and ordered his steward to have supper early, and to go into the town and buy what he could, for he (the Bishop) was very hungry, not having broken his fast all that day.

His servant obeyed him, and went to the market, and to all the fishmongers in the town, to procure some fish, but, to make the story short, not a single fish, in spite of all the efforts made by the steward, could be found.

But, on returning to the inn, he met a countryman, who had two fine partridges which he would sell very cheaply. The steward thought he would secure them, and they would serve to make the Bishop a feast on Sunday.

He bought them, a great bargain, and came to his master with the two partridges in his hand, all alive, and fat, and plump, and told him of his failure to get any fish, at which my Lord was not best pleased.

"And what can we have for supper?"

"My Lord," replied the steward, "I will get them to prepare you eggs in a hundred thousand different ways, and you can have apples and pears.

Our host has also some rich cheese. We will do our best; have patience, a supper is soon over, and you shall fare better to-morrow, G.o.d willing.

We shall be in a town which is much better provided with fish than this, and on Sunday you cannot fail to dine well, for here are two partridges which are plump and succulent."

The Bishop looked at the two partridges, and found them as the steward said, plump, and in good condition, so he thought they would take the place of the fish which he had lost. So he caused them to be killed and prepared for the spit.

When the steward saw that his master wished to have them roasted, he was astounded, and said to his master;

"My lord, it is well to kill them, but to roast them now for Sunday seems a pity."

But the steward lost his time, for, in spite of his remonstrances, they were put on the spit and roasted.

The good prelate watched them cooking, and the poor steward was scandalized, and did not know what to make of his master's ill-ordered appet.i.te.

When the partridges were roasted, the table laid, the wine brought in, eggs cooked in various ways, and served to a turn, the prelate seated himself, said grace, and asked for the partridges, with mustard.

His steward wished to know what his master would do with these birds, and brought them to him fresh from the fire, and emitting an odour enough to make a friar's mouth water.

The good Bishop attacked the partridges, and began to cut and eat with such haste, that he did not give his squire, who came to carve for him, sufficient time to lay his bread, and sharpen his knife.

When the steward saw his master eating the birds, he was so amazed that he could no longer keep silent, and said to him;

"Oh, my lord, what are you doing? Are you a Jew or a Saracen, that you do not keep Friday? By my faith, I am astonished at such doings."

"Hold your tongue! Hold your tongue!" said the good prelate, who had his hands and his beard covered with fat and gravy. "You are a fool, and know not what you are saying. I am doing no harm. You know well and believe, that by the words spoken by me and other priests, we make of the host, which is nothing but flour and water, the precious body of Jesus Christ. Can I not by the same means?--I who have seen so many things at the court of Rome and many other places--know by what words I may transform these partridges, which are flesh, into fish, although they still retain the form of partridges? So indeed I have done. I have long known how to do this. They were no sooner put to the fire than by certain words I know, I so charmed them that I converted them into the substance of fish, and you might--all of you who are here--eat, as I do, without sin. But as you would still believe them to be flesh, they would do you harm, so I alone will commit the sin."

The steward and the other attendants began to laugh, and pretended to believe the highly-coloured story that their master had told them, and ever after that were up to the trick, and related it joyously in many places.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 100.jpg The chaste Lover.]

STORY THE HUNDREDTH AND LAST -- THE CHASTE LOVER.

By Philippe De Laon.

_Of a rich merchant of the city of Genoa, who married a fair damsel, who owing to the absence of her husband, sent for a wise clerk--a young, fit, and proper man--to help her to that of which she had need; and of the fast that he caused her to make--as you will find more plainly below._

In the powerful and well-populated city of Genoa, there, lived some time ago, a merchant who was very rich, and whose business consisted in sending much merchandise by sea to foreign lands, and especially to Alexandria. So occupied was he with the management of his s.h.i.+ps, and in heaping up riches, that during all his days, from his tender youth till the time that he was fifty years of age, he never cared or wanted to do anything else.

When he had arrived at this last mentioned age, he began to think about his condition, and to see that he had spent and employed all his days and years in heaping up riches without ever having for a single minute or moment been inclined to think of marrying and having children, to whom the great wealth, that he had by great diligence and labour ama.s.sed and acquired, would succeed. This thought caused him much mental sorrow, and he was greatly vexed that he had thus spent his youth.

This grief and regret lasted many days, during which time it happened that in the above-named city, the young children, after they had solemnized some festival, did as they were accustomed each year, and variously apparelled and disguised, some this way and some that, came in great numbers to the place where the public rejoicings of the city are usually held, to play in the presence of their fathers and mothers, and to have their costumes praised and admired.

At this a.s.sembly was our merchant, still moody and vexed, and the sight of so many fathers and mothers taking pleasure in watching their children dance and sport, increased the grief that was preying on his mind, and, unable to watch them any longer, he returned to his house, sad and vexed, and retired to his lonely chamber, where he remained some time, uttering complaints of this kind;

"Ah, poor, miserable, old man that I am and always have been, and for whom fate and destiny are hard, bitter, and unpleasant. Oh, wretched man! worn out and weary by watching and work, suffered and borne by land and sea. Your great riches and heaped-up treasures, which with many perilous adventures, hard work, and sweat you have ama.s.sed, and for which you have expended all your time, are but vain, for you have never thought who will possess them, and to whom by human law you should leave your memory and your name when you are dead and gone. Oh, wicked man, how could you have been careless of that of which you should have taken most heed? Marriage never pleased you, and you always feared and refused it, and even disliked and scorned the good and just counsels of those who would have found you a wife, in order that you might have offspring who would perpetuate your name, your praise, and your renown. Oh, how happy are those parents who leave good and wise children to succeed them! How many fathers have I seen to-day playing with their children, who would call themselves most happy, and think they had well employed their time, if, after their decease, they could leave their children but one small part of the great wealth that I possess! But what pleasure and solace can I ever have? What name or fame shall I leave after my death?

Where is the son who will cherish my memory when I am dead? Blessed be that holy condition of marriage by which the memory and recollection of fathers is preserved, and by which fiefs, possessions, and heritages are permanently secured to their happy children!"

When the good merchant had thus argued to himself for a long time, he suddenly thought of a remedy for his misfortunes, saying;

"Well, I am in future determined, notwithstanding the number of my years, not to trouble or torment myself with grief, or remorse. At the worst I have but been like the birds, which prepare their nests before they begin to lay their eggs. I have, thank G.o.d, riches sufficient for myself, wife, and many children, if it should happen that I have any, nor am I so old, or so devoid of natural vigour, as to lose hope of even having any offspring. What I have to do is to watch and work, and use every endeavour to discover where I shall find a wife fit and proper for me."

Having finished his soliloquy, he left his chamber, and sent for two of his comrades--merchant-mariners like himself,--and to them he plainly stated his case, and requested them to help to find him a wife, for that was the thing he most desired in the world.

The two merchants, having heard what their comrade had to say, much applauded his determination, and undertook to make all possible endeavours to find him a wife.

Whilst they were making enquiries, our merchant,--as hot to get married as he could be--played the gallant, and sought throughout the city all the youngest and prettiest girls--to the others he paid small heed.

He searched so well that he found one such as he required,--born of honest parents, marvellously beautiful, aged only fifteen or thereabouts, gentle, good-tempered, and well brought up in every respect.

As soon as he knew her virtues and good qualities, he felt such affection and desire that she should be his lawful wife, that he asked her hand of her parents and friends; which, after some slight difficulties that were quickly removed, was given, and the same hour they were betrothed, and security given by him for the dower he was to bestow upon her.

If the good merchant had taken pride and pleasure in his merchandise during the time that he was ama.s.sing a fortune, he felt still more when he saw himself certain of being married, and that to a wife by whom he could have fine children.

The wedding was honourably celebrated, with all due pomp, and that feast being over and finished, he forgot all about his former life,--that is to say on the sea--but lived happily and in great pleasure with his fair and fond wife.

But this way of life did not last long, for he soon became tired and bored, and before the first year had expired took a dislike to living at home in idleness and a humdrum domestic existence, and pined for his old business of merchant-mariner, which seemed to him easier and more pleasant than that which he had so willingly undertaken to manage night and day.

He did nothing but devise how he could get to Alexandria, as he used in the old days, and it seemed to him that it was not only difficult but impossible for him to abstain from going to sea. Yet though he firmly resolved to return to his old profession, he concealed his intention from his wife, fearing that she might be displeased.

There were also fears and doubts which disturbed him, and prevented him from executing his designs, for he knew the youth and character of his wife, and he felt sure that if he were absent she would not be able to control herself; and he considered also the mutability and variability of the feminine character, and that the young gallants were accustomed to pa.s.s in front of his house to see his wife, even when he was at home,--whence he imagined that in his absence they might come closer, and peradventure even take his place.

For a long time he was tormented by these difficulties and suspicions without saying a word but as he knew that he had lived the best part of his life, he now cared little for wife, marriage, and all that concerned domestic life, and to the arguments and theories which filled his head, provided a speedy solution by saying;--

"It is better to live than to die, and, if I do not quit my household very shortly, it is very certain that I shall not live. But then, shall I leave my fair and affectionate wife? Yes, I will leave her;--she shall henceforth manage for herself as she pleases; it will no longer be inc.u.mbent on me. Alas, what shall I do? What a dishonour, what an annoyance it would be for me if she did not continue to guard her chast.i.ty. Ah, yes, it is better to live than to die, that I may be able to look after her! But G.o.d cannot wish that I should take such care and pains about a woman's belly without any pay or reward, and receive nothing in return but torture of soul and body. I will not bear all the trouble and anguish of mind that many suffer in living with their wives.

It angers me and saddens me to think that G.o.d only permits me to live to enjoy the trifling incidents of married life. I want full liberty and freedom to do what I please."