Prologue
The Middle English Seven Sages opens with a couplet announcing the beginning of the poem (E1–2). The wife of the emperor Diocletian dies shortly after giving birth to Diocletian’s son, Florentine (E3–14). When the child reaches the age of seven, Diocletian summons the seven sages with a view to selecting one of them as his tutor (E15–30). The sages audition for the role, promising to complete Florentine’s education in longer or shorter periods of time (E31–A126). Having heard these speeches, Diocletian decides to employ all seven sages to instruct his son and the sages depart for the Roman countryside, where they construct a specially designed school on the banks of the Tiber (127–74). There Florentine is taught Latin and the liberal arts; his teaching is intensive and successful: after seven years he surpasses his masters (175–208).
Meanwhile, Diocletian’s barons persuade him to take another wife, who, upon discovering Florentine’s existence, plots to trap the son who will inherit Diocletian’s wealth and power (209–54). Feigning an interest in getting to know her stepson, the unnamed empress asks Diocletian to have Florentine come to Rome and Diocletian sends messengers to the seven sages instructing them to deliver the boy to him (255–322). Before responding to the request, the sages consult the heavens and discover that Florentine’s return will result in disaster: if Florentine goes to court, he and they will be killed at the first word he speaks. But Florentine sees a further sign in the stars. If he can keep from speaking for seven days, his safety and that of the sages will be guaranteed; Florentine will be able to secure this if each of the sages agrees to keep him safe for one of the seven days of his silence (323–72). The sages agree; Florentine and the sages entertain the emperor’s messengers; and the scene ends with Florentine in bed plotting to overcome the empress (373–98).
Day 1
The next day Florentine is conducted to Rome and met by his father on the road (399–418). The empress has him sent to her chambers, where she offers Florentine her love: the emperor is old and impotent, she says, and she only married him to be allied with Florentine (419–46). Florentine rejects his stepmother when she attempts to kiss him, at which the empress becomes angry. She tears at her hair and scratches her face and, when the emperor asks for an explanation, she accuses Florentine of attempting to rape her (447–82). The emperor orders that his son be stripped, beaten, and hanged but his noblemen intervene and Florentine is put in prison awaiting judgment the following day (483–506). The empress is furious and proposes to reignite her husband’s anger towards his son with the first of her tales (507–35).
Tale 1: arbor, the tree. The empress.
A rich burgeis (citizen) of Rome had a beautiful garden behind his palace in the middle of which was a pine tree under which he liked to sit (536–50). One day, on returning from a year-long business trip away from home, the burgeis noticed a little shoot springing from the root of the pine tree (551–64). Having learned from his gardener that branches from the older tree were blocking the shoot’s light and preventing it from growing taller, the burgeis ordered the offending boughs to be cut off and the shoot flourished at the expense of the tree (565–92). As the shoot thrived, the old tree became dry and gangly until, one day, the burgeis ordered the old tree to be cut down to the ground (593–608). The empress tells the emperor that he is the tree and the shoot is his son: his son will overtake him similarly unless the emperor attends to the situation (609–22). The emperor vows that this will never be the case and resolves to put Florentine to death the next day (623–28).
Day 2
When the emperor gets up, he commands that Florentine be brought up from his prison and hanged (629–44). The first sage, Bancillas, rides in and greets the emperor before asking him why he is determined to slay his own son (645–58). The emperor upbraids the sage for teaching his son poorly; Bancillas questions the severity of the empress’s accusation as well as its veracity; and the emperor replies that he requires no further proof of his son’s guilt (659–78). Bancillas counsels against listening to stepmothers’ tales and offers his own story of a knight and his greyhound, which he proposes to tell if the emperor will agree to stay Florentine’s execution (679–92). The emperor agrees; Florentine is led back down to prison; and the sage begins his tale (693–700).
Tale 2: canis, the dog. First sage, Bancillas
Tournaments were to be held in a meadow belonging to a knight of Rome who had a beautiful wife, a treasured child, and a well-behaved greyhound (701–24). During the jousts, the wife watched from a drawbridge and the nurses left their charge under a wall (725–32). Hearing the noise from the fighting, a snake living in the wall poked its head out, saw the unattended child, and pounced on it, but was prevented from killing the child by the knight’s faithful dog (733–44). In the combat that ensued between the animals, the infant’s cradle was overturned but the baby remained unharmed, and the snake was killed (745–70). When the tournament was finished, the nurses found the upturned cradle and the bloodied dog and assumed that the dog had killed the child; when their mistress returned, they passed on this unhappy news (771–86). The mother threatened to kill herself if her husband would not kill his dog and he complied with her wish, only to discover shortly after the remains of the adder and the child hidden beneath the upturned cradle (787–810). After announcing that his example should teach other husbands not to take their wives’ counsel, the knight left for a forest exile where he intended to expiate his misdeed (811–36). The sage prays that similar dishonor may befall the emperor if on the advice of his wife he kills his son as the knight in the tale did his greyhound (837–42).
The emperor vows that this will not be the case and agrees to postpone Florentine’s judgment until the next day (843–46). The court disbands, the sage departs, and the emperor goes to his bedchamber, where he is met by the empress, who is angry because he has ignored her advice (847–60). If he will not avenge her on Florentine, she threatens that he risks suffering the same fate as did a certain boar who liked getting scratched (861–62). The emperor asks to hear the story and the empress begins (863–66).
Tale 3: aper, the boar. The empress
Out west there was a forest in which there lived a fearsome boar who every day ate the fruits of a hawthorn tree growing in a clearing there (867–78). A herdsman also lived in the forest and while looking for an animal he had lost came upon the hawthorn tree and gathered some of its fruits (879–87). The herdsman was met there by the boar and, terrified, climbed up the hawthorn tree, which the boar proceeded to attack (888–901). Despairing, the herdsman threw down the fruits that he had collected; the boar ate them and was pacified (902–08). The herdsman climbed down the tree and, hanging from one hand, started to scratch the boar (909–16). Once he had lulled the boar to sleep, he pulled out his knife; stabbed it through the heart; and left the clearing (917–25). The empress says that the emperor is the boar and that his sage is lulling him with wicked tales while at the same time sharpening his teeth; like the herdsman, the sages will deceive the emperor with their “scratching” until they finally kill him (926–32).
The emperor replies that his will not happen because he will have his son killed the next day; the empress thanks the emperor and prays that he might kill his son before nightfall (933–40).
Day 3
The next day, the emperor arrives at court in a fit of anger and orders the hanging of his son (941–52). The execution is interrupted by the arrival of the second sage, Ancilles, whom the emperor rebukes for having mistaught his son (953–78). Ancilles replies that the empress’s accusations should not be believed and proposes that, if he kills his son on her account, the same fate will befall him as befell Ypocras, who falsely slew his nephew (979–86). The emperor asks to hear the story and, when he has secured a stay of execution for Florentine, the sage begins (987–1002).
Tale 4: medicus, the doctor. Second sage, Ancilles
Ypocras, a famous Roman doctor, noticed that his nephew, who was also his apprentice, threatened to overtake him in learning, and stopped instructing him, but the nephew learned anyway by secretly observing his uncle, much to Ypocras’s displeasure (1003–18). When the king of Hungary sent for Ypocras to treat his ill son, Ypocras dispatched his nephew in his stead (1019–32). Upon arrival, the nephew discovered from the prince’s urine that the prince was the fruit of an adulterous liaison and, after some persuasion, he extracted the truth of the matter from the queen (1033–80). The nephew promised not to reveal the queen’s indiscretion; healed the son by giving him a diet of beef and broth; and was lavishly rewarded by the king of Hungary (1081–90). When his nephew returned successful, Ypocras plotted his demise: when they are out collecting herbs together, Ypocras stabbed his nephew in the back, buried him as if he had died suddenly, and burnt his books (1091–1118). As punishment for his misdeed, God sent Ypocras incurable dysentery (1119–26). Ypocras gathered his neighbors and announced his imminent death with a trick whereby he stopped a perforated barrel full of water from leaking (1127–44). He could perform this miracle, Ypocras said, but he couldn’t cure himself; he deserved his illness, he added: it was punishment for having killed his nephew, the one person who might now be able to help him (1145–56). In his moral, Ancilles points out that Ypocras gained nothing from killing his nephew and the sage prays that, if he kills his son and his masters on the advice of the queen, the emperor might meet with a similar fate as did the doctor in the tale (1157–68).
After he has reconciled with the sage, the emperor goes to his chamber, where he meets the empress, who accuses Florentine of colluding with the emperor’s barons to exile her husband and take the kingdom for himself (1169–1202). If this is indeed the case, she continues, she wishes the same fate upon the emperor as befell the father whose son cast his head into a privy (1203–08). The emperor asks for the story, and, after protesting that he does not like any of her tales, she begins (1209–18).
Tale 5: gaza, the treasure. The empress
Octavian, a Roman emperor, acquired great wealth, which he stored in a tower called Cressent (1219–26). Octavian left town, taking five of the seven sages that he had with him and leaving two at home to keep the city; one was stingy, the other was a spendthrift, and though the stingy sage was given the treasury to look after, his spendthrift counterpart knew about it too (1227–42). Taking his son with him, the spendthrift sage raided the treasury one night; when the stingy sage found out he said nothing but made a trap in the tower, reasoning that the thieves would return (1243–72). Once they had spent the treasure that they stole, the father and son returned to the tower, but this time the father was caught in the trap that the stingy sage had set (1273–79). To prevent his discovery and identification, and to protect his family, the spendthrift sage ordered his son to behead him and the son, reluctantly, agreed (1280–1302). The son then threw the head into a privy when he fled the scene (1303–08). When the stingy sage found the headless body, he ordered that it should be dragged through the town: when the spectacle reached the home of the thief’s family, he hoped, the family would betray themselves with their grieving (1309–22). Sure enough, when the body was dragged in front of the dead sage’s house, his family wept, so in order to prevent detection, the son stabbed himself in the thigh (1323–32). When the stingy sage’s officers asked why the family was mourning, the son showed his wound, and the officers are satisfied (1333–38).
Having concluded the tale, the empress asks the emperor whether it was not a foul deed when the son threw his father’s head into the privy; he might have buried it more privately, she suggests (1339–45). The emperor agrees and the empress says that a similar fate awaits her husband unless he kills his son (1346–50). The emperor agrees to kill Florentine the next day and the empress thanks him (1351–58).
Day 4
The next morning, the emperor returns to court determined to execute his son, much to the distress of his people (1359–72). Preparations for the execution are interrupted by the arrival of the third sage, Lentilioun (1373–76). The emperor upbraids Lentilioun for miseducating his son and Lentilioun replies that if the emperor kills his son without the assent of his barons, the same fate should befall him as befell the rich man who was overcome by his wife (1377–90). The emperor wants to know how any woman might beguile a man and, having secured a stay of execution, Lenitilioun begins his tale (1391–1400).
Tale 6: puteus, the well. Third sage, Lentilioun
Disdaining his neighbor’s children, a citizen of Rome married a beautiful but dishonest woman; her lover followed her to her new home and met with the woman when the husband was asleep (1401–16). This was during the time that there was a curfew at Rome, so that anyone who was found out at night was arrested and shamefully driven through town in the morning (1417–23). The husband noticed that his wife was often absent during the night and hatched a plan: he pretended to be drunk, waited until his wife left, then bolted the door, and told her through a window that she had been caught red handed and could look forward to having her misbehavior made public (1424–50). The wife threatened to drown herself in the well before the house if her husband would not let her back in and, when this failed to mollify him, she took a big stone; dropped it in the well; then hid by the door (1451–62). Thinking that his wife had made good on her threat, the man rushed out to look for her; meanwhile the wife reentered the house and bolted the door (1463–70). The wife berated her husband from an upstairs window as he had berated her and refused him reentry to the house (1471–84). When the watchmen came, they found the husband and, suspecting what had happened, they asked the wife to readmit her husband (1485–92). She refused; the husband was arrested; and the next day he was led through the town in infamy (1493–1510).
At the conclusion of his tale, the sage has the emperor confirm his impression of the wife’s guile and warns him that his own wife is just as bad; if the emperor kills his son on her advice, the sage hopes that a similarly awful fate will befall him as befell the husband in the tale (1511–20). The emperor agrees not to follow his wife’s advice that evening, and the sage departs amidst blessings for the service that he has done for the prince (1521–26). At night, the emperor goes to his bedroom and is greeted sourly by the empress, who predicts that the same end will befall them as befell a lady, a steward, and a king who entered into an agreement together (1527–36). The emperor wants to know what the agreement was and the empress begins the story, although she wonders what the point can be in her tale-telling since the emperor is not inclined to believe her (1537–48).
Tale 7: senescalcus, the steward. The empress
A sodomitical king of Apulia and Calabria was rewarded for his youthful dalliances with men by a divine punishment that took the form of an incapacitating swelling in his limbs (1549–59). The king sent for a doctor, who saw in the man’s urine that his disease was curable, placed a poultice under his rib, and prescribed a diet of barley bread and boiled barley water; for the final stage of the king’s cure, the doctor prescribed sex with a woman (1560–68). The king agreed and sent for his steward, whom he ordered to bring him a woman to sleep with; when the steward objected that no women were likely to be willing, the king said that the steward should offer twenty marks as a reward (1569–80). The steward determined to win the reward for himself and, going to his wife, ordered her to spend the night with the king, despite her protestations (1581–1600).
At night, the steward introduced his wife to the king’s bedchamber and withdrew, but found it difficult to sleep (1601–09). The next day, the steward rose to find his wife still in the king’s arms and the king reluctant to let her go (1610–24). The steward confessed his predicament to the king — that the woman that the king had been sleeping with was his wife — and the king upbraided him for his deceit, banishing him from his lands on pain of death (1625–40). The steward fled, never to return, and the king kept the steward’s wife for two years before marrying her off with a big dowry to one of his earls (1641–49). The empress concludes that, if he does not follow her advice, the emperor is likely to be driven from his land as was the steward, adding that, like the wife in the story, who was not duped, she will be able to find a new husband even if the emperor is overthrown (1650–62). The emperor agrees to follow her advice (1663–66).
Day 5
The next day, the emperor rises, his court gathers, and the prince is brought forth to be executed, much to the distress of Rome’s citizens (1667–76). The fourth sage, Malquidras, arrives and is insulted by the emperor, who accuses him of leading his son astray; in response, the sage criticizes the emperor for planning to kill his son without the consent of his barons and wishes on him the same fate that the old wise man had of his wife (1677–1704). The emperor assumes that the wife betrayed her husband and, when Malquidras corrects him, requests to hear the tale (1705–08). After securing the day-long postponement of the prince’s execution, the sage begins (1709–16).
Tale 8: tentamina, the tests. Fourth sage, Malquidras
An old man who had already been married twice was persuaded by his attendants to take a young wife but served her poorly (i.e., didn’t have sex with her) (1717–36). Meeting her mother at church, the young wife complained that she must take a lover; the mother attempted to dissuade her from taking this course of action but, when her daughter insisted, she suggested a plan: the daughter should chop down the tree that her husband loved best and tell him she had done it to warm his bones (1735–60). The daughter executed her mother’s plan and upset her husband without bringing about the desired improvement in her marital relations (1761–74). The daughter reported back to her mother, again in church, and again insisted that she must have some loving (1775–81). This time the mother suggested that her daughter should kill the husband’s favorite greyhound (1782–96). The daughter executed the plan, again without exciting her husband’s desire, and again reported back to her mother in church (1797–1817).
This time, as well as attempting to dissuade her daughter from taking a lover, the mother asked whom the daughter intended to love (1818–20). The daughter replied that she wanted a priest because she could not trust a knight not to talk (1821–28). The mother said she should not give up on exciting her husband’s love and suggested another plan: at a banquet that the husband would host, the daughter should contrive to get her keychain caught up in the tablecloth and, getting up from the table precipitously, ruin the meal (1829–46). The daughter executed her mother’s plan but this time she was punished: the next day, the husband sent for the barber and terrified his wife by having her bleed three dishes full, one dish for each of her transgressions (1847–98). The daughter sent for her mother, who reminded the daughter of her warnings and extracted from her the promise that she had given up on finding a clerk or a knight to love (1899–1918). Malquidras adds that if the young wife had taken a priest as a lover, things would have turned out worse; he also compares the young wife’s antics with the lying of the empress, which he encourages the emperor to reject (1919–32).
The emperor postpones his son’s trial and at nightfall goes to his bedchamber, where he meets his wife, who is weeping and wringing her hands (1933–40). When the empress says that the emperor believes lies and deceit as did Cressus, the emperor wants to hear the story, and the empress begins her tale (1941–54).
Tale 9: Virgilius, Virgil. The empress
Virgil was a magician who made a miraculous fire in the middle of Rome by which the poor used to warm themselves; next to it, he put a shining metal statue armed with a crossbow (1955–68). On the forehead of the statue there was written a warning that if anyone should shoot him, he would shoot back, and, when a Lombard tested the promise, the statue shot into the magical fire and extinguished it forever (1969–81). The emperor agrees with the empress that this was a poor outcome (1982–85).
The empress continues, explaining that Virgil made three more statues: two on the east and west gates tossed a golden ball between them and a third statue in the middle of the city held a mirror in which the enemies of the city could be seen making their preparations, allowing for their swift eradication (1986–2008). The king of Apulia resented this strategic advantage, which always frustrated his attempts to attack the city, so one day he gathered the wisest men of his land and promised to reward whoever might destroy the statue (2009–20). Two clerks took up the challenge: first they had chests of treasure buried under the east and west gates, then they turned up in Rome promising to reveal the location of hidden treasures to the emperor, Cressus, provided that he would share half whatever they find with them (2021–44). Cressus, who had lost all his money, agreed, and the two clerks departed for the night, claiming that they would discover the location of the treasure in their dreams (2045–56).
The next day, the clerks led the emperor to discover the treasure that they had planted at the east and west gates and the older clerk promised to recover even greater treasures after again consulting his dreams (2057–78). On their third day in the city, the clerks told the emperor that more treasure was buried under the statue holding the mirror and, while he was reluctant to risk the statue, Cressus agreed to let them mine beneath it (2079–96). The clerks destroyed the statue’s foundations and, at night, set it alight, causing its collapse (2097–2116). The clerks fled and, when Cressus’s mistake was spotted, the poor people of Rome seized, bound, and killed him: his mouth, nose, ears, and eye sockets were filled with molten gold as a reward for his greed (2117–37). The empress concludes that unless the emperor stops believing the flattering words of his own sages, the emperor will end up like Cressus and his son will be installed in his place; the emperor replies that he will prevent this by ordering his son’s destruction the following morning and the empress is pleased with his response (2138–54).
Day 6
The next day, the emperor gets up and has his son fetched out of prison; meanwhile, Cato, the fifth sage, arrives at court and is encouraged by the people of Rome to work to save his pupil (2155–65). Cato responds to the emperor’s accusations that he has misled his son with the wish that, if the emperor continues to believe the empress, the same fate might befall him as befell a burgess on account of his magpie (2166–82). The emperor wants to hear the story and, after securing the prince’s life for the day, Cato agrees to tell it (2183–92).
Tale 10: avis, the bird. Fifth sage, Catoun
A rich citizen of Rome, a merchant, had an adulterous wife and a beloved magpie that reported on her lovers’ comings and goings in French (2193–2210). One day when the merchant was away, the wife welcomed a lover to her home and the magpie threatened to reveal her infidelity to her husband (2211–25). In response, the wife executed a plan with her maid: together they took a couple of tiles off the roof and from above they harassed the magpie by flashing a candle, banging a bowl, and pouring water on its head (2226–38). The next day, the merchant returned, the lover departed, and the magpie told the merchant that the previous night a visitor had made a whore of the lady of the house during a terrible storm (2239–54).
The wife defended herself by saying that the bird must be lying because the weather the night before had been fair; indeed, the wife wants revenge on the magpie for slandering her (2255–64). Upon learning from his neighbors that there was no storm the night before, the merchant broke the magpie’s neck, but immediately regretted his action: he saw that the bird’s cage was wet and spotted further evidence of the wife’s trick (2265–82). The merchant then took a good staff and hammered on his wife’s door and cursed her to the devil (2283–88). Cato concludes that if the merchant had taken better advice the magpie would still be alive; likewise, the emperor should not follow the empress’s advice (2289–2302). The emperor agrees and postpones the judgment of his son (2303–10).
Night falls and the emperor goes to his bedchamber, where he meets his wife, who is displeased (2311–14). When she is asked the cause of her anger, she replies that the seven sages will cause him to destroy himself by making him love his enemy: this is why she wishes to leave him, and if he continues along this path, she hopes that the same fate will befall him as befell Herod the king, who marvelously lost his sight (2315–24). The emperor wants to hear the story and the empress begins (2325–28).
Tale 11: vii sapientes, the seven wise men. The empress
A Roman emperor, Herod, had seven wise men whose counsel he followed in all things (2329–36). One of the customs that the wise men established is that anyone who had a dream must come to them to have it interpreted and pay one gold coin in return; as a result, the wise men had become richer than the emperor himself (2337–44). One day when the emperor wanted to leave Rome, he became blind at the city gates (2345–49). He sent for his wise men to ask them the cause of his affliction and they secured a fortnight’s reprieve in which to find an answer (2350–57). The wise men were unable to find the required information in their books so resorted to seeking the help of an old man, who told them that the only person who could aid them would be a fatherless child (2358–76).
The wise men set out to look for this child and, one day, happened upon Merlin who was bickering with his companions; Merlin broke off, saying that he was about to help the seven wise men visiting him from Rome (2377–90). At the same time, a man appeared with a gold coin in his hand seeking an interpretation for his dream; Merlin told him he could keep the coin and went on to describe his dream and its significance: the man had dreamed that out of his dunghill there sprang a pleasant fountain serving both him and his neighbor, which meant that the dreamer should dig up his dunghill, where he would find treasure (2391–2408). The dreamer followed Merlin’s instructions, found his treasure, and shared it with the sages and his neighbor; Merlin would accept no reward (2409–16).
On the road to Rome, the wise men asked Merlin whether he would be able to explain the emperor’s blindness (2417–22). Merlin said that he was confident that this was the case and, on the day that they were appointed to report to the emperor, the sages presented the boy at court and vouched for his reliability (2423–40). Once he had secured a private audience with the emperor, Merlin proceeded to tell him the root of his trouble: deep in the ground under his bed there was a cauldron boiling with seven bubbles and these bubbles blinded him; if he wanted to see again, the bubbles must be extinguished (2441–56). The emperor had his men dig under his bed, discovered the cauldron, and asked Merlin what the bubbles meant (2457–70). After the room had again been cleared, Merlin explained that the seven bubbles stood for the seven wise men, who had established a new tradition whereby everyone who had a dream had to have it interpreted by them; although the sages gave whatever interpretation they liked, they still required a payment of one gold coin: this injustice was the reason for the emperor’s blindness (2471–92).
When the emperor asked Merlin how he should remedy his situation, Merlin invited him to test his answer: he should cut off the head of the oldest of the sages; this would extinguish one of the bubbles (2493–2500). The emperor followed the child’s suggestion, the bubble was extinguished, and so the remaining sages were likewise killed; the water became calm and the emperor took over the rule of his lands himself (2501–10).
The empress concludes with her moral: the seven sages have blinded the emperor; if he continues to follow their advice, she hopes that he will become blind like Herod, who narrowly escaped a terrible fate (2511–18). The emperor replies that she need not worry because he has little regard for his sages; the empress agrees, repeating her point about their intention to betray him (2519–25).
Day 7
The next day, the emperor is accosted in his hall by the sixth sage, who tells the emperor that he is foolish to believe his wife and threatens him that, if he kills his son, a fate will befall him like that which befell a certain Roman sheriff: he hurt his wife with a knife and she died (2526–40). The emperor wants to hear the tale and, when he has secured the prince’s safety for the day, the sage proceeds with his story (2641–52).
Tale 12: vidua, the widow. Sixth sage, Gesse
A rich sheriff had a wife whom he loved and who loved him in return (2553–58). One day, the couple was playing with a knife that they had been given and the sheriff stabbed his wife in the belly; the husband so regretted his mistake that he died of grief, prompting the sage to reflect that he was either a fool or too tender-hearted (2559–66). The man was buried and the wife was distraught; despite the advice and comforting of her friends, she threw herself on his grave and hoped for an imminent death (2567–91). Her friends built her a little lodge over the tomb and left her there (2592–98).
The same day, three thieves had been taken and hanged in the graveyard and a knight had been appointed to watch over their corpses for three nights (2599–2608). That night, the knight spotted the widow’s lodge and went towards it, hoping to warm himself up; he found the mourning widow and begged her to let him in (2609–19). After initially refusing him entry, the widow let the knight in and they talked; he counseled her against excessive mourning and encouraged her to find another lover, all to no avail (2620–38). Remembering his task, the knight then returned to the gallows to find that one of the corpses had been stolen and he worried that he would lose his livelihood (2639–46). Thinking that women give good advice, he returned to the lodge, where the wife agreed to help the knight if he would marry her (2647–54).
After the knight agreed to her bargain, the widow said that they should dig up her husband and hang him in place of the missing thief; the knight acquiesced but balked at the idea of hanging a fellow knight, so the widow hoisted up her husband’s body on the gallows herself (2655–75). The knight was horrified by the woman’s actions but finally more concerned by the possibility that their subterfuge would be detected: he pointed out that the missing thief had a head wound by which he was recognized everywhere; the widow told him he should make one similar on the corpse; the knight refused; and so the widow herself made the cut with the knight’s sword (2676–96).
The knight understood that the widow was false but continued to turn her willingness to his advantage: he mentioned that the front teeth of the missing man were broken; the widow replied that the knight should break the corpse’s teeth; the knight refused, and so the widow took a stone and did them in herself (2697–2704). The widow expected to have earned the knight’s love through these actions, but he rejected her saying that she would treat him just as she had treated her former husband; indeed, she taught him to avoid women altogether: where they seem fairest they are at their most deceptive (2705–16).
The sage concludes with the wish that the same fate might befall the emperor as did the sheriff because the empress has made the emperor want to kill his son; if he can wait until the next day, all the sorrow will be hers when the emperor hears his son speak (2717–24). The emperor agrees; the court retires; and the emperor goes to his quarters, where he finds the empress looking angry, although his own men rejoice (2725–32). When the empress offers to tell a story about a feast for fools, the emperor agrees (2733–40).
Tale 13: Roma, Rome. The empress
Rome was besieged by forces intent upon destroying Peter’s see and killing Christians (2741–48). Following an old custom, the protection of the city had been entrusted to seven sages, who had kept it safe for a month (2749–56). After this time, however, their position weakened, and they were forced to resort to special measures (2757–60). Gemes, one of the seven wise men, had a special costume made — it was as black as ink, had more than a thousand squirrels’ tails attached to it, and came with a mask having two terrifying faces painted on it with a bright red tongue — and summoned the sultans besieging the city to battle (2761–E2791). The sultans agreed and the next day, the sage climbed up into a tower at Rome called Crassus, and, positioning himself in front of a mirror there, proceeded to play fight with two swords and to make a frighteningly loud noise (E2792–2805). The sultans’ men were terrified and, when the Roman troops ran out of the city to fight them, the besiegers were slaughtered in great numbers (E2806–15).
The empress says that Junyus (E’s name for A’s Gemes) did this on the first day of January and that the emperor’s sages will betray him likewise (E2816–25). The emperor promises to kill his son and orders him to be brought out for execution (E2826–31). While Florentine is being led through the town, the next sage arrives and upbraids the emperor: the emperor keeps changing his mind about whether or not he will kill his son; if he can wait until the next day he will want to keep him, otherwise he is giving too much credence to his wife’s tales and he will meet the same end as did a certain earl from a faraway land (E2832–49). The emperor wants to hear the story and the sage agrees, provided that the prince is kept safe for the day: the next day, the son will speak for himself and the emperor will clearly see who is in the wrong, his son or his wife (E2850–59). The emperor acquiesces, adding that whoever is found to be in the wrong will be put to death, and the sage begins a tale to the detriment of the empress (E2960–69).
Tale 14: inclusa, the recluse. Seventh sage, Maxencyon
Once in the kingdom of Hungary, a knight had a dream that he loved a lady; he did not know where she might be but he knew that if he could lay eyes on her he would recognize her (E2870–79). The lady had the same dream (E2880–85). The knight went in search of the lady and after three months arrived in Apulia at the castle of an earl (E2886–95). The earl had a noble wife whom he loved very much and jealously kept locked up in a tower; at this time, he was at war with another earl (E2896–2905).
When the knight approached the earl’s tower, he saw his lady and began to sing and lark around; she recognized him but did not dare to call out to him because her husband was sitting below (E2906–19). The knight greeted the earl and presented himself as a man who had had to flee his homeland because he had killed another knight; the earl returned the knight’s greeting, enlisted him in his struggle against the other earl and, with the knight’s help, defeated his enemy (E2920–34). As a reward, the earl made the knight his steward (E2935–37). One day, the knight was amusing himself around the lady’s tower and she threw down a letter to him that persuaded him that he must see her by any means (E2938–49).
Having obtained permission from the earl, the knight had a house built next to the lady’s tower and, with the help of a skilled mason, had a secret passage built between the two buildings; once the tower was built, the knight killed the mason (E2950–83). On his first visit to the lady, she greeted him fairly and gave him a gold ring (E2984–98). When the knight went for dinner with the earl wearing his present, the earl noticed the ring as a gift that he had given his wife (E2999–3011). The earl planned to visit his wife to check that she still had the ring, but the knight got there before him and returned the jewel to her (E3012–17). When the earl greeted his wife, she answered him defiantly and showed him the object that he sought; he spent the night with her and was fooled (E3018–37).
The next day the earl invited the knight to go hunting with him but the knight declined: he had received news that he was welcome to return to his homeland, because a pardon had been arranged for his killing of the other knight; his own lady had come to tell him the news (E3038–51). The knight invited the earl to dine with them the next day and the earl promised to visit them after his hunt whenever he was summoned (E3052–61). While the earl was out hunting, the knight decorated his home, brought over his lover, dressed her in a rich robe from his own country, decked her with rings, and disguised her with veils and headdresses (E3062–83). When the earl arrived, he was greeted by the knight and his own wife and, although he was confident that his tower was impregnable, he was fascinated by the similarity between the knight’s lady and his own: many women look alike, he reasoned, just as the gold ring he gave his wife had (he supposed) its double in the knight’s ring (E3084–3115). The knight explained that his lady had come to visit him from their country and said that he wished to return to see his friends (E3116–25). After dinner, the earl dashed to the tower to see his wife, but the knight got her changed back into her own clothes and she returned to her place before the earl arrived; the earl was pleased to see his wife and had his way with her for what would be the last time (E3126–46).
Next the knight hired a ship and, when the earl was out at mass, dressed his lady finely (E3147–61). When the earl returned, the knight asked the earl’s permission to marry his lover and at church the earl gave his wife to the knight in marriage (E3162–79). After the ceremony, the earl saw the couple off as they boarded the ship that the knight had chartered; the sage adds that whoever gives his pleasures away deserves to lose them (E3180–99). When he returned home to his tower, the earl was distraught and became a figure of scorn amongst men (E3200–11). The sage concludes that the emperor will likewise be deceived by his own wife, whose tales he believes over the evidence of his own two eyes; tomorrow he will learn the whole truth of the matter (E3212–21). The emperor expresses his eagerness to learn the truth and promises to kill whoever is in the wrong (E3222–27). The sage announces that the son will reveal the empress’s desire to kill him and the empress sorrows at the prospect of the son recovering his speech (E3228–35).
Day 8
The next day, the emperor and his lords and ladies go to hear mass; many people have gathered to hear the prince speak, including the sages (E3236–47). Once the mass is over, Florentine is dressed in fine apparel and brought forth by two of his masters, who set him before his father (E3248–53). Silence falls and the prince begins to speak: he tells his father that he would have been wrong to kill him and that he has not previously spoken because he and his masters saw in the moon that speaking at court sooner would have plunged him into distress and cost his masters their lives (E3254–69). The prince wonders, too, that his father was ready to treat him as a man of wicked blood treated his son, whom he cast into the sea for saying that one day he would be greater than him (E3270–75). The emperor wants to hear the story and the son agrees to tell it (E3276–83).
Tale 15: vaticinium, the prophecy. The prince
One day, a powerful Roman was out sailing with his fifteen-year-old son when two ravens alighted on the prow of their boat and began to crow (E3284–92). The father wondered what the crowing might mean and the son interpreted it: they were saying that one day the son would be such a rich man that, when his hands were being washed, his father would be content to hold the basin and his mother the towel (E3293–3307). The father was angered by his son’s words and tossed him overboard (E3308–13). By the grace of God, the child washed up on an island where he spent four days without food and drink and where he was comforted by birds who told him that Christ would soon answer his prayers for help (E3314–25). After this, he was picked up by a fisherman who took him to a castle thirty miles away and sold him to the constable there for twenty pounds; the constable loved the child (E3326–37).
In the same country, there was a king who was plagued by ravens that would not cease calling after him and, when this king summoned the wisest man in the land to interpret their behavior, the child resolved to go to court to hear his will (E3338–51). Although the king promised his daughter in marriage and half his lands to anyone who could explain the mystery of the crows’ calling, none of his lords had an answer (E3352–65). After asking the constable of the castle to check that the king was serious about his promise, the child delivered his interpretation: the raven that stood apart from the others was the female; of the other two, the larger that one cried out at the smaller one had been the female raven’s companion for thirty years (E3366–91). The big raven had left the female in a famine year and was replaced by the smaller raven, who in his cawing said that he would not leave her until the king judged which of the ravens should have the female; after receiving his judgment they would cease their calling and fly away (E3392–3407). With the accordance of his barons, the king judged that the raven that kept the female in the famine year should have her henceforth (E3408–17). The big raven made a doleful cry then flew away, and the other two ravens were left to each other (E3418–25).
The king gave the child his daughter and half his lands and, a short time later, died; the child was crowned king (E3426–33). The child’s birth father and mother knew nothing of these developments; in the meantime, they had fallen into poverty and fled to their son’s kingdom, where they were discovered by their son, who sent word by his messengers that he would visit them (E3434–55). The father regretted that he could not receive the king as he would like but said that he was welcome to visit, and the next day their son arrived (E3456–67). On meeting the king, the father and mother brought a basin to wash his hands and the towel to dry them, but the son refused their ministrations and announced the fulfilment of the prophecy that he had made all those years before; the father fears for his life (E3468–85).
The prince concludes that the emperor wanted to treat him similarly, despite the fact that he was as guiltless as the child in the story (E3486–93). Just as the child in the story was thrown into the sea, so his father threw him into prison on his return to Rome from his school (E3494–97). He says that he would rather be hanged than harm his own father; when he came home, the empress took him into her chamber, asked him to lie with her and, when he refused, tore her clothes to pieces to make it look as if he had forced her, but he would rather have died than to do so (E3498–3513).
Conclusion
The empress admits that the prince is telling the truth and says that her husband should do with her what he wishes; she adds that she acted out of fear that the prince would destroy her and steal the empire from her (E3514–25). The empress is killed in the manner she had ordained for Florentine, by burning (E3526–47). Florentine respects his father during his father’s life and, on his death, builds an abbey to house his tomb (E3548–57). The prince then becomes emperor and rules with great honor (E3558–65). The poem concludes with a repetition of the story matter: we have heard of Diocletian and his false wife, of how Diocletian’s son was brought out of difficulty, and of how the sages saved him through their wisdom; now the sages are dead (E3566–74). A closing prayer asks that the poem’s audience might have communion and confession before death; there is also a blessing in the name of the Virgin Mary (E3575–79).