The Golden Asse: Lucius Apuleius
Dedication
To the Right Honourable and Mighty Lord, THOMAS EARLE OF SUSSEX,
Viscount Fitzwalter, Lord of Egremont and of Burnell, Knight of the most
noble Order of the Garter, Iustice of the forrests and Chases from
Trent Southward; Captain of the Gentleman Pensioners of the House of the
QUEENE our Soveraigne Lady.
After that I had taken upon me (right Honourable) in manner of that
unlearned and foolish Poet, Cherillus, who rashly and unadvisedly
wrought a big volume in verses, of the valiant prowesse of Alexander the
Great, to translate this present booke, contayning the Metamorphosis of
Lucius Apuleius; being mooved thereunto by the right pleasant pastime
and delectable matter therein; I eftsoones consulted with myself, to
whom I might best offer so pleasant and worthy a work, devised by
the author, it being now barbarously and simply framed in our English
tongue. And after long deliberation had, your honourable lordship came
to my remembrance, a man much more worthy, than to whom so homely and
rude a translation should be presented. But when I again remembred the
jesting and sportfull matter of the booke, unfit to be offered to any
man of gravity and wisdome, I was wholly determined to make no Epistle
Dedicatory at all; till as now of late perswaded thereunto by my
friends, I have boldly enterprised to offer the same to your Lordship,
who as I trust wil accept the same, than if it did entreat of some
serious and lofty matter, light and merry, yet the effect thereof
tendeth to a good and vertuous moral, as in the following Epistle to the
reader may be declared. For so have all writers in times past employed
their travell and labours, that their posterity might receive some
fruitfull profit by the same. And therfore the poets feined not their
fables in vain, considering that children in time of their first
studies, are very much allured thereby to proceed to more grave and
deepe studies and disciplines, whereas their mindes would quickly loath
the wise and prudent workes of learned men, wherein in such unripe
years they take no spark of delectation at all. And not only that profit
ariseth to children by such feined fables, but also the vertues of
men are covertly thereby commended, and their vices discommended and
abhorred. For by the fable of Actaeon, where it is feigned that he saw
Diana washing her selfe in a well, hee was immediately turned into an
Hart, and so was slain of his own Dogs; may bee meant, That when a
man casteth his eyes on the vain and soone fading beauty of the world,
consenting thereto in his minde, hee seemeth to bee turned into a brute
beast, and so to be slain by the inordinate desire of his owne affects.
By Tantalus that stands in the midst of the floud Eridan, having before
him a tree laden with pleasant apples, he being neverthelesse always
thirsty and hungry, betokeneth the insatiable desires of covetous
persons. The fables of Atreus, Thiestes, Tereus and Progne signifieth
the wicked and abhominable facts wrought and attempted by mortall men.
The fall of Icarus is an example to proud and arrogant persons, that
weeneth to climb up to the heavens. By Mydas, who obtained of Bacchus,
that all things which he touched might be gold, is carped the foul
sin of avarice. By Phaeton, that unskilfully took in hand to rule the
chariot of the Sunne, are represented those persons which attempt things
passing their power and capacity. By Castor and Pollux, turned into a
signe in heaven called Gemini, is signified, that vertuous and godly
persons shall be rewarded after life with perpetuall blisse. And in this
feined jest of Lucius Apuleius is comprehended a figure of mans life,
ministring most sweet and delectable matter, to such as shall be
desirous to reade the same. The which if your honourable lordship shall
accept ant take in good part, I shall not onely thinke my small travell
and labour well employed, but also receive a further comfort to attempt
some more serious matter, which may be more acceptable to your Lordship:
desiring the same to excuse my rash and bold enterprise at this time, as
I nothing doubt of your Lordships goodnesse. To whome I beseech Almighty
God to impart long life, with encrease of much honour.
From Vniversity Colledge in Oxenforde, the xviij. of September, 1566.
Your Honours most bounden,
WIL. ADLINGTON.
The Life of Lucius Apuleius Briefly Described
LUCIUS APULEIUS African, an excellent follower of Plato his sect, born
in Madaura, a Countrey sometime inhabited by the Romans, and under the
jurisdiction of Syphax, scituate and lying on the borders of Numidia and
Getulia, whereby he calleth himself half a Numidian and half a Getulian:
and Sidonius named him the Platonian Madaurence: his father called
Theseus had passed all offices of dignity in his countrey with much
honour. His mother named Salvia was of such excellent vertue, that
she passed all the Dames of her time, borne of an ancient house, and
descended from the philosopher Plutarch, and Sextus his nephew. His
wife called Prudentila was endowed with as much vertue and riches as
any woman might be. Hee himselfe was of an high and comely stature,
gray eyed, his haire yellow, and a beautiful personage. He flourished
in Carthage in the time of Iolianus Avitus and Cl. Maximus Proconsuls,
where he spent his youth in learning the liberall sciences, and much
profited under his masters there, whereby not without cause hee calleth
himself the Nource of Carthage, and the celestial Muse and venerable
mistresse of Africke. Soone after, at Athens (where in times past the
well of all doctrine flourished) he tasted many of the cups of the
muses, he learned the Poetry, Geometry, Musicke, Logicke, and the
universall knowledge of Philosophy, and studied not in vaine the nine
Muses, that is to say, the nine noble and royal disciplines.
Immediately after he went to Rome, and studied there the Latine tongue,
with such labour and continuall study, that he achieved to great
eloquence, and was known and approved to be excellently learned, whereby
he might worthily be called Polyhistor, that is to say, one that knoweth
much or many things.
And being thus no lesse endued with eloquence, than with singular
learning, he wrote many books for them that should come after: whereof
part by negligence of times be now intercepted and part now extant, doe
sufficiently declare, with how much wisdome and doctrine hee flourished,
and with how much vertue hee excelled amongst the rude and barbarous
people. The like was Anacharsis amongst the most luskish Scythes. But
amongst the Bookes of Lucius Apuleius, which are perished and prevented,
howbeit greatly desired as now adayes, one was intituled Banquetting
questions, another entreating of the nature of fish, another of the
generation of beasts, another containing his Epigrams, another called
'Hermagoras': but such as are now extant are the foure books named
'Floridorum', wherein is contained a flourishing stile, and a savory
kind of learning, which delighteth, holdeth, and rejoiceth the reader
marvellously; wherein you shall find a great variety of things, as
leaping one from another: One excellent and copious Oration, containing
all the grace and vertue of the art Oratory, where he cleareth himself
of the crime of art Magick, which was slanderously objected against him
by his Adversaries, wherein is contained such force of eloquence and
doctrine, as he seemeth to passe and excell himselfe. There is another
booke of the god of the spirit of Socrates, whereof St. Augustine maketh
mention in his booke of the definition of spirits, and description
of men. Two other books of the opinion of Plato, wherein is briefly
contained that which before was largely expressed. One booke of
Cosmography, comprising many things of Aristotles Meteors. The Dialogue
of Trismegistus, translated by him out of Greeke into Latine, so fine,
that it rather seemeth with more eloquence turned into Latine, than it
was before written in Greeke. But principally these eleven Bookes of
the 'Golden Asse', are enriched with such pleasant matter, with such
excellency and variety of flourishing tales, that nothing may be more
sweet and delectable, whereby worthily they may be intituled The Bookes
of the 'Golden Asse', for the passing stile and matter therein. For what
can be more acceptable than this Asse of Gold indeed. Howbeit there be
many who would rather intitule it 'Metamorphosis', that is to say, a
transfiguration or transformation, by reason of the argument and matter
within.
The Preface of the Author To His Sonne, Faustinus
And unto the Readers of this Book
THAT I to thee some joyous jests
may show in gentle gloze,
And frankly feed thy bended eares
with passing pleasant prose:
So that thou daine in seemly sort
this wanton booke to view,
That is set out and garnisht fine,
with written phrases new.
I will declare how one by hap
his humane figure lost,
And how in brutish formed shape,
his loathed life he tost.
And how he was in course of time
from such a state unfold,
Who eftsoone turn'd to pristine shape
his lot unlucky told.
What and who he was attend a while, and you shall understand that it was
even I, the writer of mine own Metamorphosie and strange alteration of
figure. Hymettus, Athens, Isthmia, Ephire Tenaros, and Sparta, being
fat and fertile soiles (as I pray you give credit to the bookes of more
everlasting fame) be places where myne antient progeny and linage did
sometime flourish: there I say, in Athens, when I was yong, I went first
to schoole. Soone after (as a stranger) I arrived at Rome, whereas by
great industry, and without instruction of any schoolmaster, I attained
to the full perfection of the Latine tongue. Behold, I first crave and
beg your pardon, lest I should happen to displease or offend any of you
by the rude and rusticke utterance of this strange and forrein language.
And verily this new alteration of speech doth correspond to the
enterprised matter whereof I purpose to entreat, I will set forth unto
you a pleasant Grecian feast. Whereunto gentle Reader if thou wilt give
attendant eare, it will minister unto thee such delectable matter as
thou shalt be contented withall.
THE FIRST BOOKE
THE FIRST CHAPTER
How Apuleius riding in Thessaly, fortuned to fall into company with two
strangers, that reasoned together of the mighty power of Witches.
As I fortuned to take my voyage into Thessaly, about certaine affaires
which I had to doe ( for there myne auncestry by my mothers side
inhabiteth, descended of the line of that most excellent person
Plutarch, and of Sextus the Philosopher his Nephew, which is to us
a great honour) and after that by much travell and great paine I had
passed over the high mountaines and slipperie vallies, and had ridden
through the cloggy fallowed fields; perceiving that my horse did wax
somewhat slow, and to the intent likewise that I might repose and
strengthen my self (being weary with riding) I lighted off my horse,
and wiping the sweat from every part of his body, I unbrideled him,
and walked him softly in my hand, to the end he might pisse, and ease
himself of his weariness and travell: and while he went grazing freshly
in the field (casting his head sometimes aside, as a token of rejoycing
and gladnesse) I perceived a little before me two companions riding, and
so I overtaking them made a third. And while I listened to heare their
communication, the one of them laughed and mocked his fellow, saying,
Leave off I pray thee and speak no more, for I cannot abide to heare
thee tell such absurd and incredible lies; which when I heard, I desired
to heare some newes, and said, I pray you masters make me partaker
of your talk, that am not so curious as desirous to know all your
communication: so shall we shorten our journey, and easily passe this
high hill before us, by merry and pleasant talke.
But he that laughed before at his fellow, said againe, Verily this tale
is as true, as if a man would say that by sorcery and inchantment the
floods might be inforced to run against their course, the seas to be
immovable, the aire to lacke the blowing of windes, the Sunne to be
restrained from his naturall race, the Moone to purge his skimme upon
herbes and trees to serve for sorceries: the starres to be pulled from
heaven, the day to be darkened and the dark night to continue still.
Then I being more desirous to heare his talke than his companions, sayd,
I pray you, that began to tell your tale even now, leave not off so, but
tell the residue. And turning to the other I sayd, You perhappes that
are of an obstinate minde and grosse eares, mocke and contemme those
things which are reported for truth, know you not that it is accounted
untrue by the depraved opinion of men, which either is rarely seene,
seldome heard, or passeth the capacitie of mans reason, which if it be
more narrowly scanned, you shall not onely finde it evident and plaine,
but also very easy to be brought to passe.
THE SECOND CHAPTER
How Apuleius told to the strangers, what he saw a jugler do in Athens.
The other night being at supper with a sort of hungry fellowes, while
I did greedily put a great morsel of meate in my mouth, that was fried
with the flower of cheese and barley, it cleaved so fast in the passage
of my throat and stopped my winde in such sort that I was well nigh
choked. And yet at Athens before the porch there called Peale, I saw
with these eyes a jugler that swallowed up a two hand sword, with a very
keene edge, and by and by for a little money that we who looked on gave
him, hee devoured a chasing speare with the point downeward. And after
that hee had conveyed the whole speare within the closure of his body,
and brought it out againe behind, there appeared on the top thereof
(which caused us all to marvell) a faire boy pleasant and nimble,
winding and turning himself in such sort, that you would suppose he had
neither bone nor gristle, and verily thinke that he were the naturall
Serpent, creeping and sliding on the knotted staffe, which the god of
Medicine is feigned to beare. But turning me to him that began his tale,
I pray you (quoth I) follow your purpose, and I alone will give credit
unto you, and for your paynes will pay your charges at the next Inne we
come unto. To whom he answered Certes sir I thank you for your gentle
offer, and at your request I wil proceed in my tale, but first I will
sweare unto you by the light of this Sunne that shineth here, that
those things shall be true, least when you come to the next city called
Thessaly, you should doubt any thing of that which is rife in the
mouthes of every person, and done before the face of all men. And that I
may first make relation to you, what and who I am, and whither I go, and
for what purpose, know you that I am of Egin, travelling these countries
about from Thessaly to Etolia, and from Etolia to Boetia, to provide for
honey, cheese, and other victuals to sell againe: and understanding that
at Hippata (which is the principall city of all Thessaly), is accustomed
to be soulde new cheeses of exceeding good taste and relish, I fortuned
on a day to go thither, to make my market there: but as it often
happeneth, I came in an evill houre; for one Lupus a purveyor had bought
and ingrossed up all the day before, and so I was deceived.
Wherefore towards night being very weary, I went to the Baines to
refresh my selfe, and behold, I fortuned to espy my companion Socrates
sitting upon the ground, covered with a torn and course mantle; who was
so meigre and of so sallow and miserable a countenance, that I scantly
knew him: for fortune had brought him into such estate and calamity,
that he verily seemed as a common begger that standeth in the streets to
crave the benevolence of the passers by. Towards whom (howbeit he was my
singular friend and familiar acquaintance, yet half in despaire) I drew
nigh and said, Alas my Socrates, what meaneth this? how faireth it with
thee? What crime hast thou committed? verily there is great lamentation
and weeping for thee at home: Thy children are in ward by decree of
the Provinciall Judge: Thy wife (having ended her mourning time in
lamentable wise, with face and visage blubbered with teares, in such
sort that she hath well nigh wept out both her eyes) is constrained by
her parents to put out of remembrance the unfortunate losse and lacke of
thee at home, and against her will to take a new husband. And dost thou
live here as a ghost or hogge, to our great shame and ignominy?
Then he answered he to me and said, O my friend Aristomenus, now
perceive I well that you are ignorant of the whirling changes, the
unstable forces, and slippery inconstancy of Fortune: and therewithall
he covered his face (even then blushing for very shame) with his rugged
mantle insomuch that from his navel downwards he appeared all naked.
But I not willing to see him any longer in such great miserie and
calamitie, took him by the hand and lifted him up from the ground: who
having his face covered in such sort, Let Fortune (quoth he) triumph yet
more, let her have her sway, and finish that which shee hath begun.
And therewithall I put off one of my garments and covered him, and
immediately I brought him to the Baine, and caused him to be anointed,
wiped, and the filthy scurfe of his body to be rubbed away; which done,
though I were very weary my selfe, yet I led the poore miser to my Inne,
where he reposed his body upon a bed, and then I brought him meat and
drinke, and so wee talked together: for there we might be merry and
laugh at our pleasure, and so we were, untill such time as he (fetching
a pittifull sigh from the bottom of his heart, and beating his face in
miserable sort), began to say.
THE THIRD CHAPTER
How Socrates in his returne from Macedony to Larissa was spoyled and
robbed, and how he fell acquainted with one Meroe a Witch.
Alas poore miser that I am, that for the onely desire to see a game of
triall of weapons, am fallen into these miseries and wretched snares
of misfortune. For in my returne from Macedonie, wheras I sould all
my wares, and played the Merchant by the space of ten months, a little
before that I came to Larissa, I turned out of the way, to view the
scituation of the countrey there, and behold in the bottom of a deep
valley I was suddenly environed with a company of theeves, who robbed
and spoiled me of such things as I had, and yet would hardly suffer
me to escape. But I beeing in such extremity, in the end was happily
delivered from their hands, and so I fortuned to come to the house of an
old woman that sold wine, called Meroe, who had her tongue sufficiently
instructed to flattery: unto whom I opened the causes of my long
peregrination and careful travell, and of myne unlucky adventure: and
after that I had declared to her such things as then presently came to
my remembrance, shee gently entertained mee and made mee good cheere;
and by and by being pricked with carnall desire, shee brought me to her
own bed chamber; whereas I poore miser the very first night of our
lying together did purchase to my selfe this miserable face, and for
her lodging I gave to her such apparel as the theeves left to cover me
withall.
The I understanding the cause of his miserable estate, sayd unto him, In
faith thou art worthy to sustaine the most extreame misery and calamity,
which hast defiled and maculated thyne owne body, forsaken thy wife
traitorously, and dishonoured thy children, parents, and friends, for
the love of a vile harlot and old strumpet. When Socrates heard mee
raile against Meroe in such sort, he held up his finger to mee, and as
halfe abashed sayd, Peace peace I pray you, and looking about lest any
body should heare, I pray you (quoth he) I pray you take heed what you
say against so venerable a woman as shee is, lest by your intemperate
tongue you catch some harm. Then with resemblance of admiration, What
(quoth I) is she so excellent a person as you name her to be? I pray you
tell me. Then answered hee, Verily shee is a Magitian, which hath power
to rule the heavens, to bringe downe the sky, to beare up the earth, to
turne the waters into hills and the hills into running waters, to lift
up the terrestrial spirits into the aire, and to pull the gods out
of the heavens, to extinguish the planets, and to lighten the deepe
darknesse of hell. Then sayd I unto Socrates, Leave off this high and
mysticall kinde of talke, and tell the matter in a more plaine and
simple fashion. Then answered he, Will you hear one or two, or more of
her facts which she hath done, for whereas she enforceth not onely
the inhabitants of the countrey here, but also the Indians and the
Ethiopians the one and the other, and also the Antictons, to love her in
most raging sort, such as are but trifles and chips of her occupation,
but I pray you give eare, and I will declare of more greater matters,
which shee hath done openly and before the face of all men.
THE FOURTH CHAPTER
How Meroe the Witch turned divers persons into miserable beasts.
In faith Aristomenus to tell you the truth, this woman had a certaine
Lover, whom by the utterance of one only word she turned into a Bever,
because he loved another woman beside her: and the reason why she
transformed him into such a beast is, for that it is his nature, when
hee perceiveth the hunters and hounds to draw after him, to bite off his
members, and lay them in the way, that the hounds may be at a stop when
they find them, and to the intent it might so happen unto him (for that
he fancied another woman) she turned him into that kind of shape.
Semblably she changed one of her neighbours, being an old man and one
that sold wine, into a Frog, in that he was one of her occupation, and
therefore she bare him a grudge, and now the poore miser swimming in one
of his pipes of wine, and well nigh drowned in the dregs, doth cry and
call with an hoarse voice, for his old guests and acquaintance that pass
by. Like wise she turned one of the Advocates of the Court (because he
pleaded and spake against her in a rightful cause) into a horned Ram,
and now the poore Ram is become an Advocate. Moreover she caused, that
the wife of a certain lover that she had should never be delivered of
her childe, but according to the computation of all men, it is eight
yeares past since the poore woman first began to swell, and now shee is
encreased so big, that shee seemeth as though she would bring forth
some great Elephant: which when it was knowne abroad, and published
throughout all the towne, they tooke indignation against her, and
ordayned that the next day shee should most cruelly be stoned to death.
Which purpose of theirs she prevented by the vertue of her inchantments,
and as Medea (who obtained of King Creon but one days respit before her
departure) did burn all his house, him, and his daughter: so she, by her
conjurations and invocations of spirits, (which she useth in a certaine
hole in her house, as shee her selfe declared unto me the next day
following) closed all the persons in the towne so sure in their houses,
and with such violence of power, that for the space of two dayes they
could not get forth, nor open their gates nor doore, nor break downe
their walls, whereby they were inforced by mutuall consent to cry unto
her, and to bind themselves strictly by oaths, that they would never
afterwards molest or hurt her: and moreover, if any did offer her any
injury they would be ready to defend her. Whereupon shee, mooved by
their promises, and stirred by pitty, released all the towne. But shee
conveyed the principal Author of this ordinance about midnight, with
all his house, the walls, the ground, and the foundation, into another
towne, distant from thence an hundred miles, scituate and beeing on
the top of an high hill, and by reason thereof destitute of water, and
because the edifices and houses were so nigh built together, that it was
not possible for the house to stand there, she threw it downe before the
gate of the towne. Then I spake and said O my friend Socrates you
have declared unto me many marvellous things and strange chances, and
moreover stricken me with no small trouble of minde, yea rather with
great feare, lest the same old woman using the like practice, should
fortune to heare all our communication. Wherefore let us now sleepe, and
after that we have taken our rest, let us rise betimes in the morning,
and ride away hence before day, as far as we can possible.
THE FIFTH CHAPTER
How Socrates and Aristomenus slept together in one Chamber, and how they
were handled by Witches.
In speaking these words, and devising with my selfe of our departing the
next morrow, lest Meroe the witch should play by us as she had done by
divers other persons, it fortuned that Socrates did fall asleepe, and
slept very soundly, by reason of his travell and plenty of meat and wine
wherewithall hee had filled him selfe. Wherefore I closed and barred
fast the doores of the chamber, and put my bed behinde the doore, and
so layed mee downe to rest. But I could in no wise sleepe, for the great
feare which was in my heart, untill it was about midnight, and then I
began to slumber. But alas, behold suddenly the chamber doores brake
open, and locks, bolts, and posts fell downe, that you would verily have
thought that some Theeves had been presently come to have spoyled and
robbed us. And my bed whereon I lay being a truckle bed, fashioned in
forme of a Cradle, and one of the feet broken and rotten, by violence
was turned upside downe, and I likewise was overwhelmed and covered
lying in the same. Then perceived I in my selfe, that certaine affects
of the minde by nature doth chance contrary. For as teares oftentimes
trickle downe the cheekes of him that seeth or heareth some joyfull
newes, so I being in this fearfull perplexity, could not forbeare
laughing, to see how of Aristomenus I was made like unto a snail [in]
his shell. And while I lay on the ground covered in this sort, I peeped
under the bed to see what would happen. And behold there entred in two
old women, the one bearing a burning torch, and the other a sponge and
a naked sword; and so in this habit they stood about Socrates being
fast asleep. Then shee which bare the sword sayd unto the other, Behold
sister Panthia, this is my deare and sweet heart, which both day and
night hath abused my wanton youthfulnesse. This is he, who little
regarding my love, doth not only defame me with reproachfull words, but
also intendeth to run away. And I shall be forsaken by like craft as
Vlysses did use, and shall continually bewaile my solitarinesse as
Calipso. Which said, shee pointed towards mee that lay under the
bed, and shewed me to Panthia. This is hee, quoth she, which is his
Counsellor, and perswadeth him to forsake me, and now being at the point
of death he lieth prostrate on the ground covered with his bed, and hath
seene all our doings, and hopeth to escape scot-free from my hands,
but I will cause that hee will repente himselfe too late, nay rather
forthwith, of his former intemperate language, and his present
curiosity. Which words when I heard I fell into a cold sweat, and my
heart trembled with feare, insomuch that the bed over me did likewise
rattle and shake. Then spake Panthia unto Meroe and said, Sister let us
by and by teare him in pieces or tye him by the members, and so cut them
off. Then Meroe (being so named because she was a Taverner, and loved
wel good wines) answered, Nay rather let him live, and bury the corpse
of this poore wretch in some hole of the earth; and therewithall shee
turned the head of Socrates on the other side and thrust her sword up to
the hilts into the left part of his necke, and received the bloud that
gushed out, into a pot, that no drop thereof fell beside: which things
I saw with mine own eyes, and as I thinke to the intent that she might
alter nothing that pertained to sacrifice, which she accustomed to make,
she thrust her hand down into the intrals of his body, and searching
about, at length brought forth the heart of my miserable companion
Socrates, who having his throat cut in such sort, yeelded out a dolefull
cry, and gave up the ghost. Then Panthia stopped up the wide wound of
his throat with the Sponge and said, O sponge sprung and made of the
sea, beware that thou not passe by running river. This being said, one
of them moved and turned up my bed, and then they strid over mee, and
clapped their buttocks upon my face, and all bepissed mee until I was
wringing wet. When this was over they went their wayes, and the doores
closed fast, the posts stood in their old places, and the lockes and
bolts were shut againe. But I that lay upon the ground like one without
soule, naked and cold, and wringing wet with pisse, like to one that
were more than half dead, yet reviving my selfe, and appointed as I
thought for the Gallowes, began to say Alasse what shall become of me to
morrow, when my companion shall be found murthered here in the chamber?
To whom shall I seeme to tell any similitude of truth, when as I shall
tell the trueth in deed? They will say, If thou wert unable to resist
the violence of the women, yet shouldest thou have cried for help;
Wouldst thou suffer the man to be slaine before thy face and say
nothing? Or why did they not slay thee likewise? Why did they spare thee
that stood by and saw them commit that horrible fact? Wherefore although
thou hast escaped their hands, yet thou shalt not escape ours. While
I pondered these things with my selfe the night passed on, and so I
resolved to take my horse before day, and goe forward on my journey.
Howbeit the wayes were unknown to me, and thereupon I tooke up my
packet, unlocked and unbarred the doors, but those good and faithfull
doores which in the night did open of their owne accord, could then
scantly be opened with their keyes. And when I was out I cried, O sirrah
Hostler where art thou? Open the stable doore for I will ride away by
and by. The Hostler lying behinde the stable doore upon a pallet, and
half asleepe, What (quoth hee) doe you not know that the wayes be very
dangerous? What meane you to rise at this time of night? If you perhaps
guilty of some heynous crime, be weary of your life, yet thinke you not
that we are such Sots that we will die for you. Then said I, It is
well nigh day, and moreover, what can theeves take from him that hath
nothing? Doest thou not know (Foole as thou art) if thou be naked,
if ten Gyants should assaile thee, they could not spoyle or rob thee?
Whereunto the drowsie Hostler half asleepe, and turning on the other
side, answered, What know I whether you have murthered your Companion
whom you brought in yesternight, or no, and now seeke the means to
escape away? O Lord, at that time I remember the earth seemed ready to
open, and me thought I saw at hell gate the Dog Cerberus ready to devour
mee, and then I verily beleeved, that Meroe did not spare my throat,
mooved with pitty, but rather cruelly pardoned mee to bring mee to the
Gallowes. Wherefore I returned to my chamber, and there devised with my
selfe in what sort I should finish my life. But when I saw that fortune
should minister unto mee no other instrument than that which my bed
profered me, I said, O bed, O bed, most dear to me at this present,
which hast abode and suffered with me so many miseries, judge and
arbiter of such things as were done here this night, whome onely I may
call to witnesse for my innocency, render (I say) unto me some wholesome
weapon to end my life, that am most willing to dye. And therewithal I
pulled out a piece of the rope wherewith the bed was corded, and tyed
one end thereof about a rafter by the window, and with the other end I
made a sliding knot, and stood upon my bed, and so put my neck into
it, and leaped from the bed, thinking to strangle my selfe and so dye,
behold the rope beeing old and rotten burst in the middle, and I fell
down tumbling upon Socrates that lay under: And even at that same very
time the Hostler came in crying with a loud voyce, and sayd, Where
are you that made such hast at midnight, and now lies wallowing abed?
Whereupon (I know not whether it was by my fall, or by the great cry
of the Hostler) Socrates as waking out of sleepe, did rise up first and
sayd, It is not without cause that strangers do speake evill of all such
Hostlers, for this Catife in his comming in, and with his crying out, I
thinke under a colour to steale away something, hath waked me out of a
sound sleepe. Then I rose up joyfull with a merry countenance, saying,
Behold good Hostler, my friend, my companion and my brother, whom thou
didst falsly affirme to be slaine by mee this might. And therewithall I
embraced my friend Socrates and kissed him: but hee smelling the stinke
of the pisse wherewith those Hagges had embrued me, thrust me away and
sayd, Clense thy selfe from this filthy odour, and then he began gently
to enquire, how that noysome sent hapned unto mee. But I finely feigning
and colouring the matter for the time, did breake off his talk, and
tooke him by the hand and sayd, Why tarry we? Why lose wee the pleasure
of this faire morning? Let us goe, and so I tooke up my packet, and
payed the charges of the house and departed: and we had not gone a mile
out of the Towne but it was broad day, and then I diligently looked upon
Socrates throat, to see if I could espy the place where Meroe thrust in
her sword: but when I could not perceive any such thing, I thought with
my selfe, What a mad man am I, that being overcome with wine yester
night, have dreamed such terrible things? Behold I see Socrates is
sound, safe and in health. Where is his wound? Where is the Sponge?
Where is his great and new cut? And then I spake to him and said, Verily
it is not without occasion, that Physitians of experience do affirme,
That such as fill their gorges abundantly with meat and drinke, shall
dreame of dire and horrible sights: for I my selfe, not tempering my
appetite yester night from the pots of wine, did seeme to see this night
strange and cruel visions, that even yet I think my self sprinkled and
wet with human blood: whereunto Socrates laughing made answer and
said, Nay, thou art not wet with the blood of men, but art embrued with
stinking pisse; and verily I dreamed that my throat was cut, and that
I felt the paine of the wound, and that my heart was pulled out of my
belly, and the remembrance thereof makes me now to feare, for my knees
do so tremble that I can scarce goe any further, and therefore I would
faine eat somewhat to strengthen and revive my spirits. Then said I,
behold here thy breakefast, and therewithall I opened my script that
hanged upon my shoulder, and gave him bread and cheese, and we sate
downe under a greate Plane tree, and I eat part with him; and while I
beheld him eating greedily, I perceived that he waxed meigre and pale,
and that his lively colour faded away, insomuch that beeing in great
fear, and remembring those terrible furies of whom I lately dreamed, the
first morsell of bread that I put in my mouth (that was but very small)
did so stick in my jawes, that I could neither swallow it downe, nor yet
yeeld it up, and moreover the small time of our being together increased
my feare, and what is hee that seeing his companion die in the high-way
before his face, would not greatly lament and bee sorry? But when that
Socrates had eaten sufficiently hee waxed very thirsty, for indeed he
had well nigh devoured a whole Cheese: and behold evill fortune! There
was behind the Plane tree a pleasant running water as cleere as Crystal,
and I sayd unto him, Come hither Socrates to this water and drinke thy
fill. And then he rose and came to the River, and kneeled downe on the
side of the banke to drinke, but he had scarce touched the water with
lips, when as behold the wound in his throat opened wide, and the Sponge
suddenly fell out into the water, and after issued out a little remnant
of bloud, and his body being then without life, had fallen into the
river, had not I caught him by the leg and so pulled him up. And after
that I had lamented a good space the death of my wretched companion, I
buried him in the Sands there by the river.
Which done, in great feare I rode through many Outwayes and desart
places, and as culpable of the death of Socrates, I forsooke my
countrey, my wife, and my children, and came to Etolia where I married
another Wife.
This tale told Aristomenus, and his fellow which before obstinatly would
give no credit unto him, began to say, Verily there was never so foolish
a tale, nor a more absurd lie told than this. And then he spake unto me
saying, Ho sir, what you are I know not, but your habit and countenance
declareth that you should be some honest Gentleman, (speaking to
Apuleius) doe you beleeve this tale? Yea verily (quoth I), why not? For
whatsoever the fates have appointed to men, that I beleeve shall happen.
For may things chance unto me and unto you, and to divers others, which
beeing declared unto the ignorant be accounted as lies. But verily I
give credit unto his tale, and render entire thankes unto him, in that
by the pleasant relation thereof we have quickly passed and shortned our
journey, and I thinke that my horse was also delighted with the same,
and hath brought me to the gate of this city without any paine at all.
Thus ended both our talk and our journey, for they two turned on the
left hand to the next villages, and I rode into the city.
THE SIXTH CHAPTER
How Apuleius came unto a city named Hipate, and was lodged in one Milos
house, and brought him letters from one Demeas of Corinth.
After that those two Companions were departed I entred into the City:
where I espied an old woman, of whom I enquired whether that city was
called Hipata, or no: Who answered, Yes. Then I demaunded, Whether she
knew one Milo an Alderman of the city: Whereat she laughed and said:
Verily it is not without cause that Milo is called an Elderman, and
accounted as chiefe of those which dwel without the walls of the City.
To whom I sayd againe, I pray thee good mother do not mocke, but tell
me what manner of man he is, and where he dwelleth. Mary (quoth shee) do
you see these Bay windowes, which on one side abut to the gates of the
city, and on the other side to the next lane? There Milo dwelleth, very
rich both in mony and substance, but by reason of his great avarice
and insatiable covetousnes, he is evill spoken of, and he is a man that
liveth all by usurie, and lending his money upon pledges. Moreover he
dwelleth in a small house, and is ever counting his money, and hath a
wife that is a companion of his extreame misery, neither keepeth he
more in his house than onely one maid, who goeth apparelled like unto a
beggar. Which when I heard, I laughed in my self and thought, In
faith my friend Demeas hath served me well, which hath sent me being a
stranger, unto such a man, in whose house I shall not bee afeared either
of smoke or of the sent of meat; and therewithall I rode to the doore,
which was fast barred, and knocked aloud. Then there came forth a maid
which said, Ho sirrah that knocks so fast, in what kinde of sort will
you borrow money? Know you not that we use to take no gage, unless it be
either plate or Jewels? To whom I answered, I pray you maid speak more
gently, and tel me whether thy master be within or no? Yes (quoth shee)
that he is, why doe you aske? Mary (said I) I am come from Corinth, and
have brought him letters from Demeas his friend. Then sayd the Maid, I
pray you tarry here till I tell him so, and therewithall she closed fast
the doore, and went in, and after a while she returned againe and sayd,
My master desireth you to alight and come in. And so I did, whereas I
found him sitting upon a little bed, going to supper, and his wife sate
at his feet, but there was no meat upon the table, and so by appointment
of the maid I came to him and saluted him, and delivered the letters
which I had brought from Demeas. Which when hee had read hee sayd,
Verily, I thanke my friend Demeas much, in that hee hath sent mee so
worthy a guest as you are. And therewithall hee commanded his wife to
sit away and bid mee sit in her place; which when I refused by reason of
courtesie, hee pulled me by my garment and willed me to sit downe; for
wee have (quoth he) no other stool here, nor no other great store
of household stuffe, for fear of robbing. Then I according to his
commandement, sate down, and he fell in further communication with me
and sayd, Verily I doe conjecture by the comly feature of your body,
and by the maidenly shamefastnesse of your face that you are a Gentleman
borne, as my friend Demeas hath no lesse declared the same in his
letters. Wherfore I pray you take in good part our poore lodging, and
behold yonder chamber is at your commaundement, use it as your owne,
and if you be contented therewithall, you shall resemble and follow the
vertuous qualities of your good father Theseus, who disdained not the
slender and poore Cottage of Hecades.
And then he called his maid which was named Fotis, and said, Carry this
Gentlemans packet into the chamber, and lay it up safely, and bring
water quickly to wash him, and a towel to rub him, and other things
necessary, and then bring him to the next Baines, for I know that he is
very weary of travell.
These things when I heard, I partly perceived the manners of Milo, and
endeavouring to bring my selfe further into his favour, I sayd, Sir
there is no need of any of these things, for they have been everywhere
ministred unto mee by the way, howbeit I will go into the Baines, but
my chiefest care is that my horse be well looked to, for hee brought mee
hither roundly, and therefore I pray thee Fotis take this money and buy
some hay and oats for him.
THE SEVENTH CHAPTER
How Apuleius going to buy fish, met with his companion Pythias.
When this was done, and all my things brought into the Chamber, I walked
towards the Baines; but first I went to the market to buy some victuals
for my supper, whereas I saw great plenty of fish set out to be sould:
and so I cheapened part thereof, and that which they at first held at an
hundred pence, I bought at length for twenty. Which when I had done, and
was departing away, one of myne old acquaintance, and fellow at Athens,
named Pithias, fortuned to passe by, and viewing me at a good space, in
the end brought me to his remembrance, and gently came and kissed mee,
saying, O my deare friend Lucius, it is a great while past since we two
saw one another, and moreover, from the time that wee departed from our
Master Vestius, I never heard any newes from you. I pray you Lucius tell
me the cause of your peregrination hither. Then I answered and sayd, I
will make relation thereof unto you tomorrow: but I pray you tell me,
what meaneth these servitors that follow you, and these rods or verges
which they beare, and this habit which you wear like unto a magistrate,
verily I thinke you have obtained your own desire, whereof I am right
glad. Then answered Pithias, I beare the office of the Clerke of the
market, and therfore if you will have any pittance for your supper
speake and I will purvey it for you. Then I thanked him heartily and
sayd I had bought meat sufficient already. But Pithias when hee espied
my basket wherein my fish was, tooke it and shaked it, and demanded of
me what I had payd for all my Sprots. In faith (quoth I), I could scarce
inforce the fishmonger to sell them for twenty pence. Which when I
heard, he brought me backe again into the market, and enquired of me
of whom I bought them. I shewed him the old man which sate in a corner,
whome by and by, by reason of his office, hee did greatly blame, and
sayd, Is it thus you serve and handle strangers, and specially our
friends? Wherefore sell you this fish so deare, which is not worth a
halfepenny? Now perceive I well, that you are an occasion to make this
place, which is the principall city of all Thessaly, to be forsaken of
all men, and to reduce it into an uninhabitable Desart, by reasone of
your excessive prices of victuals, but assure yourself that you shall
not escape without punishment, and you shall know what myne office is,
and how I ought to punish such as offend. Then he took my basket and
cast the fish on the ground, and commanded one of his Sergeants to tread
them under his feet. This done he perswaded me to depart, and sayd that
onely shame and reproach done unto the old Caitife did suffice him, So
I went away amazed and astonied, towards the Baines, considering with
myself and devising of the grace of my companion Pythias. Where when I
had well washed and refreshed my body, I returned againe to Milos house,
both without money and meat, and so got into my chamber. Then came Fotis
immediately unto mee, and said that her master desired me to come to
supper. But I not ignorant of Milos abstinence, prayed that I might be
pardoned since as I thought best to ease my wearied bones rather with
sleepe and quietnesse, than with meat. When Fotis had told this to Milo,
he came himselfe and tooke mee by the hand, and while I did modestly
excuse my selfe, I will not (quoth he) depart from this place, until
such time as you shall goe with me: and to confirm the same, hee bound
his words with an oath, whereby he enforced me to follow him, and so he
brought me into his chamber, where hee sate him downe upon the bed, and
demaunded of mee how his friend Demeas did, his wife, his children, and
all his family: and I made answer to him every question, specially hee
enquired the causes of my peregrination and travell, which when I had
declared, he yet busily demanded of the state of my Countrey, and the
chief magistrates there, and principally of our Lievtenant and Viceroy;
who when he perceived that I was not only wearied by travell, but also
with talke, and that I fell asleep in the midst of my tale, and further
that I spake nothing directly or advisedly, he suffered me to depart to
my chamber. So scaped I at length from the prating and hungry supper of
this rank old man, and being compelled by sleepe and not by meat, and
having supped only with talke, I returned into my chamber, and there
betooke me to my quiet and long desired rest.
THE SECOND BOOKE
THE EIGHTH CHAPTER
How Apuleius fortuned to meet with his Cousin Byrrhena.
As soone as night was past, and the day began to spring, I fortuned to
awake, and rose out of my bed as halfe amazed, and very desirous to know
and see some marvellous and strange things, remembring with my selfe
that I was in the middle part of all Thessaly, whereas by the common
report of all the World, the Sorceries and Inchauntments are most used,
I oftentimes repeated with my self the tale of my companion Aristomenus
touching the manner of this City, and being mooved by great desire, I
viewed the whole scituation thereof, neither was there any thing which
I saw there, but that I did beleeve to be the same which it was indeed,
but every thing seemed unto me to be transformed and altered into other
shapes, by the wicked power of Sorcerie and Inchantment, insomuch that I
thought that the stones which I found were indurate, and turned from
men into that figure, and that the birds which I heard chirping, and
the trees without the walls of the city, and the running waters, were
changed from men into such kinde of likenesses. And further I thought
that the Statues, Images and Walls could goe, and the Oxen and other
brute beasts could speake and tell strange newes, and that immediately
I should see and heare some Oracles from the heavens, and from the
gleed of the Sun. Thus being astonied or rather dismayed and vexed with
desire, knowing no certaine place whither I intended to go, I went from
street to street, and at length (as I curiously gazed on every thing)
I fortuned unwares to come into the market place, whereas I espied a
certaine woman, accompanied with a great many servants, towards whom I
drew nigh, and viewed her garments beset with gold and pretious stone,
in such sort that she seemed to be some noble matron. And there was
an old man which followed her, who as soon as he espied me, said to
himself, Verily this is Lucius, and then he came and embraced me, by and
by he went unto his mistresse and whispered in her eare, and came to
mee againe saying, How is it Lucius that you will not salute your deere
Cousin and singular friend? To whom I answered, Sir I dare not be so
bold as to take acquaintance of an unknown woman. Howbeit as halfe
ashamed I drew towards her, and shee turned her selfe and sayd, Behold
how he resembleth the very same grace as his mother Salvia doth, behold
his countenance and stature, agreeing thereto in each poynt, behold his
comely state, his fine slendernesse, his Vermilion colour, his haire
yellow by nature, his gray and quicke eye, like to the Eagle, and his
trim and comely gate, which do sufficiently prove him to be the naturall
childe of Salvia. And moreover she sayd, O Lucius, I have nourished thee
with myne owne proper hand: and why not? For I am not onely of kindred
to thy mother by blood, but also by nourice, for wee both descended of
the line of Plutarch, lay in one belly, sucked the same paps, and
were brought up together in one house. And further there is no other
difference betweene us two, but that she is married more honourably than
I: I am the same Byrrhena whom you have often heard named among your
friends at home: wherfore I pray you to take so much pains as to come
with me to my house, and use it as your owne. At whose words I was
partly abashed and sayd, God forbid Cosin that I should forsake myne
Host Milo without any reasonable cause; but verily I will, as often as I
have occasion to passe by thy house, come and see how you doe. And while
we were talking thus together, little by little wee came to her house,
and behold the gates of the same were very beautifully set with pillars
quadrangle wise, on the top wherof were placed carved statues and
images, but principally the Goddesse of Victory was so lively and with
such excellencie portrayed and set forth, that you would have verily
have thought that she had flyed, and hovered with her wings hither
and thither. On the contrary part, the image of the Goddesse Diana was
wrought in white marble, which was a marvellous sight to see, for shee
seemed as though the winde did blow up her garments, and that she did
encounter with them that came into the house. On each side of her were
Dogs made of stone, that seemed to menace with their fiery eyes, their
pricked eares, their bended nosethrils, their grinning teeth in such
sort that you would have thought they had bayed and barked. An moreover
(which was a greater marvel to behold) the excellent carver and deviser
of this worke had fashioned the dogs to stand up fiercely with their
former feet, and their hinder feet on the ground ready to fight. Behinde
the back of the goddesse was carved a stone in manner of a Caverne,
environed with mosse, herbes, leaves, sprigs, green branches and
bowes, growing in and about the same, insomuch that within the stone
it glistered and shone marvellously, under the brim of the stone hanged
apples and grapes carved finely, wherein Art envying Nature, shewed
her great cunning. For they were so lively set out, that you would have
thought if Summer had been come, they might have bin pulled and eaten; |
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