The. xi. bookes of the Golden asse conteininge the Metamorphosie of Lucius Apuleius, enterlaced with sondrie pleasaunt and delectable tales, with an excellent narration of the mariage of Cupide and Psiches, set out in the. iiii. v. and vj. bookes. Translated out of Latine into Englishe by VVilliam Adlington.

The seuenth Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse. (Book 7)

¶How he that was left behinde at Hippata to bring newes concerninge the robbery of Milos house, came home and de∣clared to his compaignions that all the faulte was layde to one Apuleius charge.

Cap. 24.

ASsone as night was paste, and the cléere charriot of the sunne had spred his bright beames on euery coaste, came one of the companie of the Théeues (for so his & their greatinge together did declare) who at his first entrie into the caue (after he had breathed him selfe, & was able to speake) tolde these ti∣dinges vnto his compaignions in this sorte. Sirs, as touching the house of Milo of Hippata, which we forci∣bly entred & ransakt the last day, we may put away all feare, & doubte nothinge at all, for after y^• ye by force & armes had spoiled & taken away al things in the house, and so returned hither vnto our caue,* 1.1 I (thrustinge in emongst the prease of the people & showing my selfe as though I were sadde & forowful for the mischaunce) cō∣sulted with them for the boultinge out of the matter, & deuised what meanes might be wrought for the appre∣hensiō of the théeues, to the intent I might learne & sée all that was done to make relation therof vnto you as you willed me, in so much that the whole fact at length by manifest & euident proofes as also by the cōmon opi∣nion & iudgemēt of al the people, was layde to one Lu∣cius Apuleius charge,* 1.2 as manifest author of this cōmit∣ted robbery, who a few daies before by false and forged

letters & coloured honestie,* 1.3 fell so farre in fauour with this Milo that he entertained him into his house, & re∣ceyued him as chiefe of his familiar friēdes, which Lu∣cius, after that he had soiourned there a good space, and wonne the hart of Miloes maide by feigned loue, did thoroughly learne y^• waies and doores of all the house, & curiously viewed the cofers & chestes▪ wherin was laide the whole substance of Milo, neither was there small cause giuē to iudge him culpable, since as the very same night that this robbery was done he fledde away, and could be found in no place, & to thintēt he might cleane escape, and better preuent such as made hewe and crie after him,* 1.4 he toke his white horse & gallopped away, & after this his seruaūt was found in the house, who (ac∣cused as accessary to the felony & escape of his maister) was cōmitted to the cōmon gaole, & the next day folow∣yng was cruelly scourged & tormented til he was wel∣nie dead to the intent he should cōfesse the matter, but when they could wrest or learne no such thinge of him, yet sente they many persons after towardes Lucius countrey to enquire him out, & so to take him prisoner.

As he declared these thinges,* 1.5 I did greatly lament with my selfe to thinke of mine old and pristine estate, and what felicitie I was sometimes in, in cōparison to the misery that I presently sustained, beyng chaunged into a miserable Asse, then had I no small occasiō to re∣member, how the olde & auncient writers did seigne & affirme, that fortune was starke blinde & without eies, because she alwaies bestoweth her richesse vpon rus•••• persons and fooles,* 1.6 and chooseth or fauoreth no mortall person by iudgement but is alwaies conuersant espe∣cially with suche as if she coulde sée, she shoulde moste shunne & forsake, yea and that which is more worse she

soweth suche euill or rather contrary opinions in men, that the wicked doo glory with the name of good, and contrary the good and innocent be detracted and sclaū∣dered as euill. Furthermore I, who by hir great cru∣eltie was turned into a fower footed Asse, is most vile and abiect manner, yea and whose estate séemed woor∣thely to be lamented and pitied of the most harde & sto∣nie hartes, was accused of theft & robbinge of my déere Oste Milo, which villanie might rather be called pari∣cide then thefte, yet might not I defende mine owne cause, or denie the facte any waie, by reason I coulde not speake howbeit least my conscience should séeme to accuse me by reason of silence, and againe being enfor∣ced by impacience I endeuered to speake, & faine would haue said: Neuer did I that facte. And verely the firste woorde, Neuer▪ I cried out once or twise somwhat hād∣somely, but the residew I could in no wise pronounce, but still remayning in one voice cried Neuer, Neuer, Neuer: Howbeit I setled my hangyng lippes as roūde as I could to speake the residew: but why should I fur∣ther complaine of the crueltie of my fortune, since as I was not muche ashamed, by reason that my seruaunt & my horse was likewise accused with me of the robbery. While I pondred with my selfe all these thinges, a greater care came to my remembraunce, touchinge the death which the Théeues deuised for me & the mayden, and stil as I looked downe to my belly, I thought of the poore Gentlewoman that shoulde be closed within me: and the théefe which a litle before had brought the false newes against me, drewe out of the skirte of his coate a thousande crownes, whiche he had rifled away from such as he mette, and cast it into the common treasory. Then he carefully enquired how the residew of his cō∣paignions

did.* 1.7 To whom it was declared that the most valiant was murdred and slaine in diuers manners, whereupon he perswaded them to remitte all their af∣fayres a certaine season, and to seke for other fellowes to bée in their places, that by the exercise of newe laddes the terror of their martiall bande might be re∣duced to the olde number, assuringe them that suche as were vnwillinge might be compelled by menaces and threatninges, and such as weare willing might be en∣couraged forward with rewarde, further he saide, that there were some, whiche (seinge the profite which they had) would forsake their base and seruill estate, and ra∣ther be contented to liue like tirantes emongst them: moreouer he declared, that for his parte he had spoken with a certaine tale man, a valiant cōpaignion, but of yōge age, stoute in bodie, & couragious in fight, whom he had fully perswaded to exercise his idle handes, dull with slouthfulnes, to his greater profite, and (while he might) to receaue the blisse of better fortune, and not to holde out his sturdy arme to begge for a penny, but ra∣ther to take as muche golde & siluer as he would. Then euery one consented, that he that séemed so woorthy to be their compaigniō, should be one of their cōpany and that they would search for others to make vp the resi∣dew of the nomber, wherupon he went out, and by and by (returninge againe) brought in a tale yonge man (as* 1.8 he promised) to whom none of the residew might be cō∣pared, for he was higher then they by the head, and of more bignes in bodie, his bearde began to burgen, but he was poorely appareled, in so much that you might sée all his belly naked: As sone as he was entred in, he sayd, God spéede ye souldiars of Mars, and my faith∣full compaignions, I pray you make me one of your

bande,* 1.9 and I will ensure you that you shall haue a man of singular courage and liuely audacitie, for I had ra∣ther receaue strypes vppon my backe, then money or golde in my handes: and as for death (whiche euery man doo feare) I passe nothyng at all, yet thinke you not that I am an abiect or a begger, neyther iudge you my vertue and prowesse by my ragged clothes, for I haue béene a Capitaine of a great company, and sub∣dued all the countrey of Macedonie: I am the renou∣med théefe Hemus the Thracien, whose name all coun∣tries and nations doo so greatly feare: I am the soone of Theron the notable théefe, nourished with humaine bloudde, entertained emongst the stoutest: finally I am inheritour and follower of my Fathers, vertues, yet I lost in a shorte time all my company, and all my richesse by one assault, whiche I made vpon a factor of the Prince, whiche sometime had bene Capitayne of twoo hundred men, for fortune was cleane against me: herken and I will tell you the whole matter.* 1.10 There was a certayne manne in the courte of the Emperour whiche had many offices, and in great fauour, who at last by the enuie of diuers persons was banished away and compelled to forsake the courte: his wife Platina, a woman of rare faithe and singuler shamefastnes, ha∣uinge borne tenne children to her husbande, despised al worldly pompe and delicacie, & determined to follow her husbande, and to be a partaker of all his perils and daunger, wherefore the cut of her heare, disguised her selfe like a man, & toke with her al her treasure, passing thorough the handes of the souldiours and the naked swordes without any feare, wherby she endured many miseries, and was partaker of muche affliction to saue the life of her husbande, such was her loue whiche she

bare vnto him. And when they had escaped many peri∣lous daungers aswell by lande as by sea they went to wardes Zacynthe to continue there accordinge as for∣tune had appointed: But when they arriued on the sea coste of Actiū (where we in our returne frō Macedonie were rouinge about) when night came they turned in∣to a house, not farre distant from their shippe where they lay all night. Then we entred in & toke away all their substance, but verely we were in great daunger, for the good Matron perceyuinge vs incontinently by the notes of the gate, went into the chamber, and cal∣led vp euery man by his name, and likewise the neigh∣bours that dwelled rounde about, in so much y^• by rea∣son of the feare thar euery one was in, we hardly esca∣ped away, but this most holy womā, faithfull and true to her husband (as the truth must be declared) returned to Caesar desiringe his ayde and puisance, and demaun∣dinge vengeaunce of the iniurie done to her husbande, who graunted all her desire: then wente my company to wracke in so muche that euery man was slayne, so great was the authoritie and woorde of the Prince. How be it when all my bande was loste and taken by searche of the Emperours armie, I onely stole away and deliuered my selfe from the violence of the soul∣diars, for I clothed my selfe in a womans attyre, and mounted vpon an Asse that carried barley shéefes, and (passinge thorough the middle of them all) I escaped away, because euery one déemed that I was a woman, by reason I lacked a bearde. How be it I lefte not of for all this, nor did degenerate from the glory of my father, or mine owne vertue, but freshly cōming from the blouddy skirmish, and disguised like a woman I in∣uaded Townes and Castels alone to gette some pray.

And therwithall he pulled out twoo thousand crownes whiche he had vnder his coate, sayinge: Holde here the dowrie whiche I present vnto you, holde eke my per∣son whiche you shall alwaies finde trusty and faithfull if you will willingly receaue me: And I will ensure you that in so doinge, within shorte space I will make and turne this stony house of yours into Golde: then by and by euery one consented to make him their Ca∣pitaine, and so they gaue him better garmentes and threwe away his olde. When he had chaunged his at∣tyre he embraced them one after an other, then placed they him in the highest rome of the table, and dranke vnto him in token of good lucke.

¶How the death of the Asse, and the Gentel woman was staide,

Cap. 25.

AFter supper they beganne to talke,* 1.11 and declared vnto him the goinge away of the gentlewoman, and how I bare her vpō my backe, & what death was ordeyned for vs twoo. Then he desired to sée her▪ whereupon the Gentlewoman was brought foorth fast bounde, whom assone as he beheld, he turned him selfe wringinge his nose & blamed them, saying: I am not so much a beast or so rashe a fellow,* 1.12 y^• I would driue you quight from your purpose, but my conscience will not suffer me to conceale any thinge that toucheth your profite, since as I am carefull for you, how be it if my counsell doo displease you, you may at your owne li∣bertie procéede in your enterprise. I doubte not but all Théeues, and suche as haue a good iudgement, will preferre their owne lucre & gaine aboue all thinges in the worlde, & aboue their vengeance, which purchaseth

damage to diuers persons. Therefore if you put this Virgin in the Asses belly, you shal but execute your in∣dignation against hir without all maner of profite: but I woulde aduise you to carie the Virgin to some towne & to sel her. And such a braue girle as she is, may be solde for a great quantitie of money: And I my selfe know certaine bawde Marchaūtes, amongest whome, peraduenture some one will giue-vs great summes of golde for her. This is my opinion touchinge this af∣faire: But aduise you what you intende to doo, for you may rule me in this case. In this maner the good thefe pleaded and defended our cause, being a good patron to the séely Virgin, and to me poore Asse. But they staide hereupon a good space with longe deliberation, whiche made my harte (God wote) and spirit greatly to quale. Howebeit, in the ende they consented to his opinion, and by and by, the mayden was vnlosed of hir bondes, who seinge the yonge man, and hearinge the name of brothels and bawde Marchauntes, began to waxe ioy∣full, and smiled with her selfe. Then began I to déeme euill of the generation of women, when as I sawe the maiden (who was appointed to be maried to a yonge gentleman, and who so greatly desired the same) was nowe delighted with the talke of a wicked and filthy brothel house, and other thinges dishonest. In this sort the consent and maners of wemen depēded in the iud∣gement of an Asse.

¶Howe all the Theues weare brought in a sleape by their newe companion.

Cap. 26.

THen the yonge man spake againe, saiynge: Mai∣sters, why go we not about to make our praiers

to Mars touching this sellinge of the maiden,* 1.13 and to sake for other compaigniōs. But as farre as I sée here is no maner of beaste to make sacrifice withall, nor wyne sufficient for vs to drinke. Let me haue ({quod} he) tenne more with me, and we wil goe to the next castel, to prouide for meate and other thinges necessarie. So he and tenne more with him, went their waie: In the meane season the residue made a great fire, and an al∣tar with grene tirfes, in the honour of Mars. By and by after they came againe, bringing with them bottels of wyne, and a great nomber of beastes, amongest whiche there was a bigge Ram goate, fatte, olde, and hearie, whiche they killed and offered vnto Mars. Thē supper was prepared sumptuouslie: And the new com∣paignion saide vnto the other. You ought to accompte me not onelie your Captaine in robberie and fight, but also in your pleasures and iolitie, wherupon by and by with pleasaūt there he prepared meate, & trimming vp the house, he set all thinges in order, & brought the po∣tage & dentie dishes to the table: But aboue all he plied them well with great pottes, & iugges of wine. Some∣times (séeming to fetche somwhat) he would goe to the maiden and giue her pieces of meate, whiche he priuely tooke awaie, and would drinke vnto hir, whiche she wil∣lingly tooke in good parte. Moreouer he kissed her twise or thrise, wherof she was well pleased, but I (not well contented thereat) thought in my selfe: O wretched maide,* 1.14 thou hast forgotten thy mariage, & doest esteme this straunger and bloudy théefe aboue thy husbande, which thy parentes ordeined for thée, nowe perceiue I wel thou hast no remorse of cōscience, but more delight to tarie & plaie the harlot here amongst so manie wea∣pons and swoordes, what knowest thou not howe the

other Theeues if they knew thy demeanure would put thée to death as they had once apointed, & so worke my destruction likewise? well now I perceaue thou haste a pleasure in the damage and hurt of other. While I did angerly deuise with my selfe all these thinges, I per∣ceaued by certaine signes and tokens (not ignorant to so wise an Asse) that he was not the notable théefe He∣mus, but rather Lepolemus her husbād,* 1.15 for after much communication he began to speake more frankely, not fearinge at all my presence, and saide: be of good chéere my swéete fréende Charites, for thou shalt haue by and by all these thy enemies captiue vnto thée. Then he fil∣led wine to the théeues more, and more, and neuer cea∣sed till as they weare all ouercome with aboundance of meate and drinke, when as he him selfe absteyned and bridled his owne appetite: and truely, I did great∣ly suspect, least he had mingled in their cuppes some deadly poyson, for incontinently they all fell downe a sléepe on the grounde one after an other, and laye as though they had bene dead.

¶How the Gentlewoman was carried home by her husband while the Theeues were asleepe, and howe muche Apu∣leius was made of.

Cap. 27.

WHen the Théeues were all a sléepe by their great and immoderate drinkynge, the yonge man Lepolemus toke the maiden & set hir vpō my backe and wente homeward, when we were come home, all the people of the Citie (especially her parētes, fréendes & familie) came rūning foorth ioyfully, & al the children & maidens of y^• towne, gathered together to sée this virgin in great triūph sittyng vpō an Asse. Thē I

(willinge to show as much ioye as I might as present* 1.16 occasion serued) I set and pricked vp my longe eares, I ratled my nosethrilles, and cried stoutly, nay rather I made the towne to ringe againe w^t my shrilling sound▪ when we were come to her fathers house, she was re∣ceaued into a chamber honorably: as for me, Lepole∣mus (accompaigned with a great nomber of Citizins) did driue me backe againe with other horses to y^• caue of the Théeues, where we found them all a sléepe liyng on the ground as we left them, then they first brought out al the golde, siluer, and other treasure of the house, and laded vs withall, whiche when they had done, they threwe many of the théeues downe into the bottome of déepe ditches, and the residew they slewe with their swoordes: after this we returned home gladde & merry of so great vengeance vpō them, and the richesse which we carried was committed to the publique Treasory: This done, the maide was married to Lepolemus, ac∣cordyng to the lawe, whome by so much trauell he had valiātly recouered: Then my good mistris looked about for me, & askinge for me cōmaunded the very same day of her marriage, that my maūger should be filled with barley, and that I should haue hay & Otes abundantly, & she would call me her litle Camell. But how greatly did I curse Fotis in that she transformed me into an Asse, and not into a Dogge, because I sawe the dogges had filled their paunches with the relickes and bones of so woorthy a supper, the nexte day this newe wedded woman (my mistris) did greatly commende me before her parentes and husbande, for the kindenes whiche I had showed vnto her, and neuer leued of vntill suche time as they promised to rewarde me with great ho∣nors, then they called together al their fréendes, & thus

it was so concluded, one said that I should be closed in a stable and neuer woorke but continually to be fedde and fatted with fine and chosen barley and beanes, & good littor, how be it an other preuayled, who wishing my libertie perswaded them that it was better for me to runne in the fieldes emongst the lasciuious horses and mares, whereby I might engender some mules for my mistris,* 1.17 then he that kept the horse was called for, and I was deliuered vnto him with great care, in so muche that I was right pleasaunt and ioyous, because I hoped that I shoulde carry no more fardels or bur∣thens, moreouer I thought that when I should thus be at libertie, in the springe time of the yeare when the medowes and fieldes were gréene, I should finde some Roses in some place, whereby I was fully perswaded that if my maister and mistris did render to me so ma∣ny thankes and honours beynge an Asse, they would much more rewarde me beynge turned into a man: but when he (to whome the charge of me was so straightly cōmitted) had brought me a good way distant from the Citie, I perceaued no delicate meates nor no libertie which I should haue,* 1.18 but by and by his couetous wife and most cursed queane made me a mill Asse, and (bea∣tinge me with a kidgell full of knottes) would wringe bredde for her self and her household out of my skinne, yet was she not contented to wery me and make me a drudge with carriage and grinding of her owne corne, but I was hired of her neyghbours to beare their sackes likewise, how be if she would not giue me suche meate as I shoulde haue, nor sufficient to sustaine my life withall, for the barley whiche I grounde for mine owne dinner she would fell to the inhabitātes by. And after that I had laboured all day, she would set before

me at night a litle filthy branne,* 1.19 nothinge cleane but full of stones. Beynge in this calamitie yet fortune worked me other tormentes, for on a day I was lette loose into the f••••ldes to pasture by the commaūdement of my maister, O how I leaped for ioye, how I neyed to see my selfe in such libertie, b••t especially since I be∣helde so many mares, whiche I thought should be my wiues and concubines, and I espied out and choose the fayrest before I came nighe them, but this my ioyfull hope turned into vtter destruction,* 1.20 for incontinently all the stone Horses whiche were well fedde and made stronge by ease of pasture, and thereby muche more puissant then a poore Asse, were Ielous ouer me, and (hauinge no regarde to the lawe and order of the God Iupiter) ranne fiersely and terribly againste me, one lifted vp his fore féete and kicked me spitefully, an o∣ther turned him selfe and with his hinder héeles spur∣ned me cruelly, the thirde threatninge with a maliti∣ous neyinge dressed his eares and shewyng his sharpe and white téeth bitte me on euery side. In like sorte haue I redde in Histories howe the Kinge of Thrace,* 1.21 would throwe his miserable geste to be torne in péeces and deuoured of his wilde horses, so niggishe was that Tyraūt of his prouender that he nourished them with the bodies of men.

¶How Apuleius was made a common Asse to fetche home woodde, and how he was handled by a boye.

Cap. 28.

AFter that I was thus handled by the Horses, I was brought home againe to the mille, but be∣holde, fortune (insatiable of my tormentes) had deuised a new paine for me, I was appointed to bringe

home woodde euery day frō a high hill, and who should driue me thither and home againe, but a boy that was the veriest hangeman in all the worlde, who was not contēted with the great trauell that I toke in climinge vp the hill, neither pleased when he sawe my hoofes torne and worne away by sharpe flintes, but he beate me cruelly with a great staffe,* 1.22 in so much that the mary of my boanes did ake for woo, for he woulde strike me continually on my right hippe and still in one place, whereby he tare my skinne and made of my wide sore a great hole or trench, or rather a windowe to looke out at, and although it ranne downe of bloud, yet would he not cease beatinge me in that place, moreouer he la∣ded me with such great trusses and burthens of woodde that you would thinke they had bene rather prepared for Olyphantes then for me, and when he perceaued that my woodde hanged more of one side then an other (when he shoulde rather take away the heauy shides, and so ease me or els lifte them vp to make them equall with the other) he layde great stones vpon the weaker side to remedie the matter, yet coulde he not be con∣tented with this my greate miserie and immoderate burthens of woodde, but when we came to any riuer (as their weare many by the way) he to saue his féete from water woulde leape vpon my loynes likewise, whiche was no small lode vpon lode. And if by ad∣uenture I had fell downe in any dirtie or myry place, when he should haue pulled me out, either with ropes, or lifted me vp by the tayle, he woulde neuer healpe me, but layde me on from toppe to toe with a mighty staffe, till he had lefte no heare on all my bodie, no not so muche as on mine eares, whereby I was com∣pelled by force of the blowes to stande vp.

The same hangeman boye did inuent an other tor∣ment for me, he gathered a great many sharpe thornes as sharpe as néedels, and bounde them together like a faggot and tied them at my taile to pricke me, then was I afflicted on euery side, for if I had endeuored to runne away the thornes would haue pricked me, if I had stoode still the boye would haue beaten me, and yet the boye beate me to make me runne, whereby I per∣ceaued that the hangeman did deuise nothinge els saue to kill me by some manner of meanes, and he woulde sweare and threaten to doo me worse harme, and be∣cause he might haue some occasion to execute his ma∣licious minde, vpon a day (after that I had endeuored to much by my pacience) I lifte vp my héeles and spur∣ned him welfauoredly. Then he inuented this ven∣geance against me, after that he had well laded me with shrubbes and rubbell and trussed it rounde vpon my backe, he brought me out into the way: then he stale a burninge coale out of a mans house of the nexte village and put it into the middle of the rubbell, the rubbell and shrubbes beinge very drie, did fall on a light fire and burned me on euery side. I coulde sée no remedie how I might saue my selfe, and in suche a case it was not beste for me to stande still: but fortune was fauorable towardes me, perhaps to reserue me for more daungers, for I espied a great hole full of rayne water that fell the day before, thither I ranne haste∣ly and plunged my selfe therein, in suche sorte that I quenched the fire and was deliuered from that present perill, but the vile boye to excuse him selfe declared to all the neyghbours and sheapeherdes aboute that I willingly tombled in the flere as I passed through the villages. Then he laughed vpon me saiynge: Howe

longe shall we nourishe and keepe this fyry Asse in vaine.

¶Howe Apuleius was accused of lecherie by the Boie.

Cap. 29.

A Fewe daies after, this Boie inuented an other mischiefe: For whē he had solde al y^• wood, which I bare, to certain men dwelling in a village by, he led me homeward vnladen: And then he cried that he was not able to rule me, & that he woulde not driue me any lenger to the hill for woodde, saiyng: doo you sée this slowe and dull Asse, who besides all the mischiefes that he hath wrought alreadie, inuenteth dailie more & more. For when he espieth any woman passing by the waie, whether she be olde or maried, or if it be a yonge childe, he will throwe his burthen from his backe and ronneth fiersly vpon thē. And after y^t he hath throwen them downe, he will stride ouer them to committe his buggery and beastlie pleasure, moreouer he will faine as though he would kisse them, but he will byte their faces cruellie, whiche thinge may woorke vs great dis∣pleasure, or rather be imputed vnto vs as a crime: and euen now when he espied an honest maiden passing by the highe waie, he by and by threwe downe his woodde & ranne after her: And when he had throwen her vpon the ground, he would haue rauished her before the face of all the worlde, had it not bene that by reason of her criyng out, she was succoured and pulled frō his héeles and so deliuered. And if it had so come to passe that this fearfull maiden had bene slaine by him, what daun∣ger had we bene in? By these and like lies, he prouoked the shéepeherdes earnestlie against me, whiche greued

me (God wote) full sore that saide nothing. Then one of the shepeherdes said: Why doo we not make sacrifice of this common adulterouse Asse. My sonne ({quod} he) let vs kill him and throwe his guttes to the dogges,* 1.23 & reserue his fleshe for the labourers supper. Then let vs cast dust vpō his skinne, & carie it home to our maister, and say that the Wolues hath deuoured him. The boie that was my euill accuser, made no delaie but prepared him selfe to execute the sentence of the shepeherde, re∣ioysing at my present daūger, but O how greatly did I then repent that the stripe which I gaue him with my héele had not killed him. Then he drewe out his swoord and made it sharpe vpon a whetstone to slea me, but an other of the shepeherdes gan saie, verely it is a great offence to kill so faire an Asse.* 1.24 And so (by accusation of luxurie and lasciuious wantonnes) to lacke so necessary his labour and seruice, where otherwyse if you would cut of his stones, he might not onely be depriued of his courage, but also become gentle, that we should be de∣liuered from all feare of daunger. Moreouer, he would be thereby more fat and better in fleshe. For I knowe my selfe as well many Asses, as also moste fierce hor∣ses, that by reason of their wantonnes, haue bene most madde and terrible, but (when they weare gelded and cut) they haue become very gentle and tame, and trac∣table to all vse. Wherfore I would counsell you to geld him. And if you consent therto, I will by and by, when I goe to the next market fetche mine yrons and tooles for the purpose: And I ensure you after y^• I haue gel∣ded and cut of his stones, I will deliuer him vnto you as tame as a lambe. When I did perceiue that I was deliuered from death,* 1.25 and reserued to be gelded, I was greatly sorie, in so muche that I thought all the hinder

part of my bodie and my stones did ake for woo, but I sought about to kil my selfe by some maner of meanes, to thende if I should die, I would die with vnperished members.

¶Howe the boye that ledde Apuleius to the fieldes, was slaine in the woodde.

Cap. 30.

WHile I deuised with my selfe in what maner I might ende my life, the roperipe boie on the next morrow led me to the hill againe, & tied me to a boowe of a great Oke, and in the meane season he tooke his hatchet and cut woodde to lode me withall, but beholde there crept out of a caue by, a meruailous great Beare, holdinge out his mighty head, whome when I sawe, I was sodēly strokē in feare & (throwing all the strēgth of my bodie into my hinder héeles) lifted vp my streined head and brake the halter, wherwith I was tied. Then there was no néede to bidde me runne awaie, for I scoured not onely on foote, but tumbled o∣uer the stones and rockes with my bodie, til I came in∣to the open fieldes, to the intent I would escape away from the terrible Beare, but especially from the boie y^• was worse then the Beare. Then a certaine straunger that passed by y^• waie (espiyng me alone as a straie Asse) tooke me vp & rode vpon my back, beating me w^t a staffe (which he bare in h•• hād) through a blind & an vnknowē lane, wherat I was nothing displeased, but willingly wēt forward to auoide y^• cruel paine of gelding, which y^• shepardes had ordeined for me, but as for y^• stripes I was nothing moued, since I was acustomed to be beatē so euery day: But euell fortune would not suffer me to continue in suche estate longe: For the Shepeherdes

(looking about for a cowe that they had lost,* 1.26 after they had sought in diuers places) fortuned to come vpon vs vnwares, who when they espied and knewe me, they woulde haue taken me by the halter, but he that rode vpon my backe resisted thē saiyng. Good lord maisters, what intende you to doo? will you robbe me? Then said the shéepeherdes, what thinkest thou that we handle thée otherwise then thou deseruest, which hast stolen a∣waie our Asse, why doest thou not rather tel vs where thou hast hidden the boie whom thou hast slaine? And therewithall they pulled him downe to the grounde, beatinge him with their fistes, and spurning him with their féere. Then he sware vnto thē saiyng: that he saw no maner of boie, but onely founde the Asse loose and straiynge abroade, whiche he tooke vp to thintent he might haue some rewarde for the finding of him, and to restore him againe to his maister. And I would to god ({quod} he) y^• this Asse (which verely was neuer séene) could speake as a man, to geue witnesse of mine innocencie: Then would you be ashamed of the iniurie whiche you haue done to me. Thus (reasoning for him selfe) he no∣thing preuailed, for thei tied the halter about my neck, and (maugre his face) pulled me quite awaie, & led me backe againe through the wooddes of the hill to y^• place where the boie accustomed to resorte. And after that they could finde him in no place, at length they founde his bodie rent and torne in pieces, and his members dispersed in sondrie places, which I well knewe was done by the cruel Beare, and verely I would haue told it if I might haue spoken, but (whiche I could onely do) I greatly reioysed at his death, although it came to late. Then they gathered together the pieces of his bo∣die and buried them. By and by they laide all the fault

to him that was my newe maister, that tooke me vp by the way, and (bringing him home faste bounde to their houses) purposed on the nexte morrow to accuse him of murder, and to lead him before the Iustices to haue iudgement of death.

¶How Apuleius was cruelly beaten by the mother of the boye that was slaine.

Cap 31.

IN the meane season while the parentes of the boye did lament and wéepe, for the death of their sonne. The shéepeherd (according to his promise) came with his instrumentes and tooles to gelde me, then one of them said: Tushe we litle estéeme the mischief which he did yesterday, but now we are contēted that to morow his stones shal not onely be cut of,* 1.27 but also his head. So was it brought to passe that my death was delaide till the next morowe: but what thankes did I giue to that good boie, who (being so slaine) was the cause of my par∣don for one shorte day: Howbeit I had no time then to rest my self, for the mother of the boye wéeping and la∣menting for his death, attyred in mourninge vesture, tare her heare, and beate her brest, and came presently into the stable, sayinge: Is it reason that this carelesse beast should doo nothinge all day but holde his head in the manger, filling and bolling his guttes with meate without cōpassion of my great miserie, or remēbraunce of the pitifull death of his slayne maister: and contem∣ninge my age and infirmitie, thinketh that I am vna∣ble to reuenge his mischiefes: moreouer he would per∣swade me that he were not culpable, in déede it is a cō∣uenient thinge to looke and pleade for safetie, when as the conscience doth confesse the offence, as théeues and malefactors accustome to doo: but O good Lord y^• cursed

beast if thou couldest vtter the cōtentes of thine owne minde whome* 1.28 (though he were the veriest foole in all the worlde) mightest thou perswade that this murder was voide or without thy faulte, when as it lay in thy power either to kéepe of the théeues with thy héeles or else to bite and teare them with thy téeth. Couldest not thou (that so oftē in his life time diddest spurne & kicke him) defende him nowe at the pointe of death by like meane? yet at least thou shouldest haue taken him vpō thy backe, and so brought him from the cruel handes of théeues, where contrary thou rannest away alone for∣sakinge thy good maister, thy pastor, and conductor. Knowest y^• not that such as denie their holesome helpe and ayde to them which lie in daunger of death, ought to be punished because they haue offended against good manners and the law naturall, but I promise thée thou shalt not longe reioyse at my harmes: thou shalt féele y^• smart of thy homicide and offence, I wil sée what I can doo, and there withall she vnlosed her apron, and boūde all my féete together, to the ende I might not helpe my selfe, then she toke a great barre whiche accustomed to barre the stable doore, and neuer ceased beatinge of me till she was so weary y^• the barre fell out of her hādes, whereupon she (complayninge of the soone faintnes of her armes) ranne to her fire and brought a fier brande and thrust it vnder my taile, burninge me continually till such time as (hauing but one remedie) I all arrayed her face and eies with my dirtie donge, whereby (what with the stinke therof, and what with the filthines that fell in her eyes) she was welnie blinde, so I enforced the queane to leaue of, otherwise I had died as Melea∣ger did by the sticke, whiche his madde mother Althea cast into the fire.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The vse of cutte purses now a daies.
• * 1.2

  vvho was now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Asse.
• * 1.3

  Surmises of the common people.
• * 1.4

  His white horse was likewise taken away by the Theeues.
• * 1.5

  The Asse spea∣keth.
• * 1.6

  God sēdes fooles fortune.
• * 1.7

  As Trasileon Lamathus &c.
• * 1.8

  This yonge man was ••ep••lemus the yonge may∣dens spouse.
• * 1.9

  A pre••y deceiple of Lepolemus.
• * 1.10

  A forged lie.
• * 1.11

  Apuleius spea∣keth.
• * 1.12

  A prety wyle to saue his wife.
• * 1.13

  ••••ere Lepolem•••• draweth to his purpose.
• * 1.14

  Apuleius spea∣keth.
• * 1.15

  The iudgement of an Asse.
• * 1.16

  A prety iest of an Asse.
• * 1.17

  This pleased the Asse.
• * 1.18

  Vnhappy is he that hath an ill mistris.
• * 1.19

  Such scrapinge dames be many now a daies.
• * 1.20

  Pleasure often∣times turneth to paine.
• * 1.21

  The Asse hath redde Histories.
• * 1.22

  One sorrowe that the b••ye wrought to A∣puleius.
• * 1.23

  Here they deuise to kill the Asse.
• * 1.24

  A friendly ene∣mie to the Asse.
• * 1.25

  Apuleius spea∣keth.
• * 1.26

  He falleth into Scilla that will auoide Charib∣dis.
• * 1.27

  Apuleius gel∣dinge was de∣laide.
• * 1.28

  A foolish wo∣man to laye the fault to a bruite beast.