Early English versions of the Gesta Romanorum / edited by Sidney J.H. Herrtage

[IV.]

Story.

SOmtyme dwelled in Rome a worthy Emperour & a wyse, whiche had a fayre doughter, & full gracyous in the syght of euery man. This Emperoure bethought hym vpon a daye to whome he myght gyue his doughter in maryage, saynge thus, "yf I gyue my doughter to a ryche man, & he be a fole, than is she lost / & yf I gyue her to a poore man and a wytty, then may he gete his lyuyng for hym & her by his wysdome." There was yt tyme dwellynge in ye cyte of Rome a phylosopher named Socrates, poore and wyse, whiche came vnto themperoure, & sayd, "My lorde, dysplese you not though I put forthe my petycyon before youre hyghnesse." Themperour sayd, "What soeuer it pleaseth ye, tell forth." Than answered Socrates, & sayd, "My lorde, ye haue a doughter, whome I desyre aboue all thynge." The Emperour answered, and sayd, "My frende, I shall gyue the my doughter to wyfe vpon this condycion, yt yf she dye in thy felaushyp, after yt she be weddede vnto ye yu shalte withouten doubte lese thy lyf." Than sayd Socrates, "Vpon this condycion I wyl gladly take her for to be my wyfe." The Emperoure herynge this, lete calle forthe all the lordes and

states of his empyre, and made a greate feest at theyr weddynge. And thenne, after the feest, Socrates led home his wyfe to his owne house, where as they lyued in pease and helth longe tyme / but at last this Emperours doughter sekened to deth. Whan Socrates this perceyued, he sayd to hym selfe, "Alas & wo to me, what shall I do, & whether shall I flee, yf themperours doughter, yt is my wyfe, sholde deye?" & for sorowe this Socrates wente to a forest there besyde, & wepte bytterly. The whyle he wepte thus & mourned, there came an aged man berynge a staffe in his honde, & asked the cause of Socrates, why he mourned? Socrates answered, and sayd, "I wedded themperours doughter vpon this condycyon, yt yf she deyed in my felawshyp, I sholde lese my lyfe / and now she is sekened vnto the deth, & I can fynde no remedy of helpe, & therfore I mourne more than ony creature can thynke." Than sayd the olde man, "Be ye conforted, for I shall be your helper, yf ye wyl do after my counceyll. In this forest be thre herbes; yf ye make a drynke of the fyrst to your wyfe, & of ye other .ij. a playster, and yf she vse this medycyne drynke and plaster, in due tyme without doubte she shall recouer to perfyte helth." Socrates fulfylled all as the olde man had taught hym. And whan his wyfe had vsed a whyle that medycynall drynke & plaster, within shorte tyme she was perfytly hole of all her sekenes. And whan themperour herde yt Socrates wrought so wysely / & how dylygently he laboured for to hele his wyf, he promoted hym vnto grete dygnyte and worshyppe.

Moral.

¶ Dere frendes, this Emperour is our lorde Ihesu cryste; his doughter so fayre and so gentylle is the soule, made at the symylytude of God, whiche is full gracyous and gloryous in the syght of hym and of his aungels, whyle that she is not defouled, & abydeth in her owne propre clennesse. This soule god wolde not gyue it vnto a ryche man, but to a poore man that is to saye, a man that is made of the slyme of ye erthe / [signature A vij.] This Socrates is a poore man / for why, euery man cometh poore and naked in to this worlde frome his moders bely / & euery man taketh his soule in wedlocke vpon suche condycyon, that yf she dye in his felaushyp by deedly synne / Wt

out doubte he shall lese eternall lyfe. Therfore o! thou man, yf thy wyfe seken so thrugh a deedly synne / do than as Socrates dyd; goo vnto the forest, that is, holy chirche, and thou shalt fynde there an olde man with a staffe / that is, a dyscrete confessoure, whiche shall telle the of these thre herbes / for he hath power to bynde and to vnbynde. The fyrst herbe is contrycyon, of whome yu sholdest make thy drynke of teeres. Ambrose sayth, that teeres wassheth synne where shame is to knowlege; & these two other herbes ben confessyon and satysfaccyon / yf these herbes be vsed in playster, the synner without doubte shall receyue his helth, and his soule shal be delyuered fro synne / and by all ryght he shall haue euerlastynge lyfe. Unto the whiche brynge vs our lorde Ihesus!