Kitabı oku: «The Marvellous Adventures and Rare Conceits of Master Tyll Owlglass», sayfa 12
The Seventy and Third Adventure
How that at Greifswald good Master Owlglass came unt the Rector of the University, and proclaimed himself to be a master in all languages, save in one only, to wit, the Spanish tongue
Now unto the good town of Greifswald, on that stormy sea which is called the Baltic, came Owlglass on a time. And when that he arrived set he upon the church doors letters, and upon the University gates also, proclaiming therein, that of all languages, save one only was he the master, and he could understand every tongue save one, to wit, the Spanish. Thereat marvelled the people with great marvel.
When that the Rector saw the letters which Owlglass had set upon the university gate, he called together his masters, and they conferred together; and then was it agreed amongst them, that Owlglass should be bidden to come before them, and that if he could do that which he said, then would they do him high honour, and entertain, and endue him with all the dignities of their venerable college; but if that he might be a deceiver, then would they with great indignity visit him, and command him to depart out of their town. So appointed they a day for this to be done. And Owlglass accepted the challenge which the rector and masters sent him; and the town was busy all the time with gossips here and gossips there, talking of the marvellous professor which had come. And, after the manner of gossips, did they make two where before was one; and of the foreign master was great conference and noise.
When that the day had come for this wonderful disputation and examination, there assembled together the rector and the masters, the chief councillors of the town and the most considerable citizens; and then entered to them Owlglass, who was attired in like manner unto them, with gown and grave look. And the rector bade him, that he should sit on a stool in the midst of the assembly, over against him. And Owlglass signified unto him, that now would he fain be examined. Then arose the rector, and, with much gravity, spake unto him, and addressed him in the Latin tongue. And Owlglass said to him: “Most noble rector, but one language in the world have I not learned, the which language is Spanish; and now that thou speakest unto me, it appeareth unto me that thy words savour of that tongue.” Then the rector said unto him, that truly was Latin like unto Spanish, yet was it not Spanish, and, therefore, should he have known. But Owlglass said: “Nay; but if any tongue were like unto Spanish, then shut he his ears; for that it was great shame unto the Christian world, that yet should in Spain such vile unbelievers be as the Moors and their black king.” So by reason of his fervour excused they Owlglass. Then stood up the rector, and spake unto him in the Greek language. And Owlglass answered, that unto him it sounded like Spanish. And the rector said unto him: “If that thou knowest all languages, then must thou truly also know the Greek tongue.” “That,” quoth Owlglass, “is the reason why unto me it sounded like unto Spanish. For of old time were the Greek nations idol worshippers, and bowed down unto senseless stocks and stones; and shame were it that Christian man should speak such a tongue.” Then did the assembly praise Owlglass with great praise.
A third time arose the learned rector, and spake unto Owlglass; and this time spake he Italian. And Owlglass said unto him: “Behold, that too is like Spanish, and I must hold my peace.” And the rector told unto him that it was Italian. “Shame should it be,” said Owlglass, “that I should speak the language of brigands and robbers.” And again praised the assembly the wisdom of the new professor. And the rector spake unto him in the French. “Marvellous like unto Spanish,” cried Owlglass. “Nay, but it is the French,” said the rector. “Then marvel I no longer,” said Owlglass; “for the French would everywhere continually have more land; and the mountains which lie betwixt France, Navarre, and Spain, would they fain have cast into the sea.” Then spake the rector to him in English. “That tongue likes me not; I fear me it is Spanish,” quoth Master Owlglass. The rector told him that it was English. “Let me hear no more on’t,” answered he; “for in England is mist and fog and snow, so that there be no marvel if that it sound like Spanish or any other. Give me,” he said unto the rector, “the honest German tongue, for that must for ever be a noble tongue and a useful.” And the assembly had great content with Owlglass; for they perceived, that truly he was a master of languages, and understood not the words so much as the intent, and that he judged of the lands by the tongues used by the inhabitants thereof. For truly, my masters, all languages are like each unto the other; for in every one will ye find liars, cozeners, knaves, cutpurses, deceivers, and beguilers, in number a great multitude. So with honour departed Owlglass.
The Seventy and Fourth Adventure
How that Owlglass did at Wismar become a horse-dealer, and beguiled a merchant
By the water at Wismar most knavishly did Owlglass beguile a horse-dealer. For unto that place came a horse-dealer, and he bought no horse unless by a certain thing he learned whether the horse was long to live. And thus did he: when that he had bargained and the price was fixed, he seized the horse by the tail, and marked, by the plucking of the tail, whether he would long live or no. For if the horse had a long tail, and he plucked him thereby, and the hair was weak, then judged he the horse would not long live. Then bought he not that horse. An if the tail were firm in the horse, then did he buy it, and believed truly that it would long live and had a hardy body. For this was a common saying at Wismar, and in it believed all people which abode there. Of this saying heard Owlglass, and upon it meditated he a great knavery; for he held it to be a thing most grave, that all error should from the folk be taken, for Owlglass would have no beguiler of the people but himself; and, my masters, was not this our good master an exemplar unto many which even unto this day have followed in his footsteps?
In the black art was our master also well grounded; therefore with rosin and blood made he a tail unto a horse, the which had no tail, and therewith gat he him to market, and there did he bid to the folk dear enough so that none would buy it. And the merchant, which plucked the horses by the tail, after that came by, and Owlglass offered it unto him at cheap rate, in all good conscience. Then the merchant looked upon the horse that it was fair, and in truth worth the money which Owlglass demanded therefor. So he came thither, and desired to pluck it by the tail. Now Owlglass had so wrought the tail, that if peradventure the dealer so plucked, the tail would therewith stay within his hand, and it should seem as if he had plucked it forth. And so also it came to pass. Then stood the merchant with the tail, and was abashed; and Owlglass cried with a loud voice: “Behold the knave, he hath plucked my horse by the tail, and lo! he hath plucked it out, and my horse hath he marred.” Then ran the townsfolk, and held the merchant, and would not let him depart until that he had satisfied Owlglass with ten crowns for the damage unto the horse. Then Owlglass went on his way rejoicing.
The Seventy and Fifth Adventure
How that Owlglass wrought a great knavery upon a pipemaker at Lüneburg
At Lüneburg abode a pipemaker, and he once had been a pedlar, and, with a pack, had trudged many a league; and this man fortuned to sit drinking his beer. And to him entered Owlglass, and much company found he there. And in jest did the pipemaker bid Owlglass to dine with him, and said unto him: “To-morrow do thou come unto meat with me, and eat that which thou wouldst have, an thou art able.” And Owlglass answered: “Yea;” and took his words to be serious, and the next day came unto the pipemaker’s house, and would have entered in and eaten at his table. But there found he that above and below was the door bolted and the windows shut. Then Owlglass walked up and down before the house a few times, until that the dinner-hour came; but the door was fast shut all this time, and he perceived that he had been beguiled of the pipemaker. So he departed from that place, and said not a word, but held his peace. And it came to pass, that on the next day Owlglass beheld the pipemaker in the market-place, and he stood before him, and spake unto him, saying: “Thou dost bid guests unto the feast, and when that they come, find they the door fast closed, so that they cannot enter therein.” Then answered the pipemaker unto Owlglass, and said unto him: “Behold, I bid thee to be my guest, but with certain words; for I said unto thee that thou shouldst eat with me, an thou wert able; but that couldst thou not, for when that thou camest were the doors shut, and thou mightst not enter therein.” “Truly,” quoth Master Owlglass, “we live and learn. That wist not I before, so have thou my thanks.” And the pipemaker laughed, and said: “Yet shalt thou not fast this day. Go thou unto my house, and, behold, there wilt thou find boiled and roast, and the doors are open. Enter therein and eat, and in no long time will I follow thee; and thou shalt be alone, and no other guest but thee will I have.” And Owlglass meditated within himself, and said, privily: “Bravely goeth this forward.” Then gat he him unto the pipemaker’s house, and findeth it as the master said unto him. And the pipemaker’s wife stood cooking by the fire. Then said Owlglass unto her: “Behold, thy good man is at the market, and hath received a great fish as a gift, and he desireth that thou shouldst depart unto him, and help him to carry it home. Meanwhile will I turn the spit for thee.” The good wife answered Owlglass, and said: “Alas! good Master Owlglass, that will I do; and with my maid will I get me quickly unto him, and soon return.” And Owlglass said: “Peace go with thee.” Then departed the good wife and her maid unto the market, and as they went forward met they the pipemaker coming towards his house; and he said unto them: “What do ye here?” And they answered, and said: “Owlglass came unto us, and bade us hasten unto thee upon the market, for thou hast had a large fish given unto thee, and thou wouldst have help to carry it home. And Owlglass hath remained in the house, and turneth the spit.” And the pipemaker waxed very wroth, and said unto his wife: “Here is a knavery. Why didst thou not stay within; for he hath not done this without thereby signifying some deceitful work. Behold, I have no fish.” Then turned they, and altogether came unto the house; and while they were conferring together, Owlglass had shut both door and windows, and that found they when that they came unto the house. Then spake the pipemaker unto his wife: “Now seest thou what manner of fish thou shouldest fetch?”
Then beat they upon the door. Thereat came Owlglass behind the door, and said: “Beat ye the door no longer, for to no one will I open it. The host said unto me, that I should be alone within the house, and no other guest would he have but myself. Therefore depart ye, and after dinner come hither again.” The pipemaker said: “It is true, I said according unto thy words, but I meant not that it should be thus.” And the pipemaker said unto his wife: “I’ good faith, let him now eat and drink, for I have in my pate that which shall reward him for his knavery.”
So the three departed, and abode in a neighbour’s house until that Owlglass had made an end of eating and drinking. Then set Owlglass to his labour, and boiled the meat, and roasted the roast, and set it upon a dish, and brought a stool unto the table, and with great content ate and drank and made good cheer; and he drank health unto his worthy host, the pipemaker. And when he had filled himself, then arose he and opened the door, and set the dishes unto the fire again. Then entered in the pipemaker, his wife and maid; and he said unto Owlglass: “After this wise, the which thou hast done, do not honest folk.” But Owlglass answered and said: “How might it be that I should do otherwise? For, behold, thou didst say I should be alone and the only guest; and if that I had let more guests in, shame would it have been to me, for my host would have brooked it not.” And therewith departed he. Then looked the pipemaker upon him as he went, and said: “Be not afraid, this matter will I richly repay unto thee, thou knave!” Thereat said Owlglass: “He is the best man who is ever the master.” Then in that same hour went the pipemaker unto the hangman, who also gat money by carting dead horses; and he said unto him: “At the inn lieth a pious man, named Owlglass, and this night hath his horse died. This would he have carted away.” And the pipemaker showed the hangman the house where lodged Owlglass. And the hangman perceived that it was the pipemaker, and agreed with him that he would do it, and took his cart and went unto the house. Then said Owlglass unto him: “What wouldst thou have?” And the hangman answered Owlglass, and said unto him: “Lo! the pipemaker hath been with me, and said unto me that thy horse was dead and should be carried away. Is it truly so?” But Owlglass mocked him, and bade him carry the pipemaker unto the gallows. Then was the hangman wroth, and departed unto the pipemaker’s house, and made complaint, and with six shillings did the pipemaker satisfy him. But Owlglass saddled his horse and rode forth from the town.
The Seventy and Sixth Adventure
How that an old woman mocked the good Master Owlglass when that at Gerdau he lost his pocket
Of old time lived there at Gerdau, in the Lüneburg country, an aged and venerable couple, who for fifty years lived there together, being good man and wife; and had goodly sons and daughters, the which had grown to ripe age. And it came to pass, that the priest of the town was a merry good-humoured wight, who loved jolly company; and wherever there was a cup of wine to be quaffed, there would he fain be. With his parishioners had he so fitted it, that every boor in the country side did at least receive him and his cook once in each year; and then stayed he some day or twain, and made excellent cheer. Now, the two old people had for many a year kept neither dedication, nor christening, or any feast at which the priest could have content for his fair round belly; and thereat was he greatly moved and vexed. Therefore he meditated much within himself, how that he might bring it about that they should give a feast.
Then sendeth he unto the boor a messenger, and asketh how long that it had been since he had by Holy Church been married unto his good wife? To him answered the boor: “Reverend father, so long is it ago, that I have forgotten how many years it hath been.” And the priest rejoined unto him: “That such forgetfulness was an evil thing for the salvation of his soul, and he should strive to remember that thing.” Then did the boor confer with his wife, and considered the matter; yet could they not find the true time to tell it unto the priest. Therefore came they both unto the priest, and were greatly troubled, and entreated of him that he should give unto them some wholesome counsel wherewithal they might comfort themselves. Then said the priest unto them: “Forasmuch as ye know not the time at the which ye were married, will it be best that next Sunday I marry you again, and then will ye be comforted. Therefore do ye prepare a feast, and kill an ox, and a sheep, and a pig, and bid your children and good friends to rejoice with ye on that day, and with all favour give unto them good cheer; and I promise ye that I also will be with ye.” Then said the boor: “In good sooth, reverend father, is thy counsel most comforting unto the spirit. It shall go hard, but I will have a feast which shall be fitting unto the day; for it would not be well that after fifty years we should be put forth from the marriage state.” These words spoken, he departed unto his house, and failed not to do as the priest had advised him.
And the priest bid unto the feast several of his own friends, other priests and dignitaries of the most Holy Church. Among these was the Dean of Epsdorf, who in his stables had always a horse or twain, the which were not to be despised; and, like unto other priests, he loved good cheer. And with him had Owlglass served some time. And the dean said unto him: “Sit ye upon my young horse and ride with me, and to that are ye right welcome.” To that agreed Owlglass. And when that they were right merry, and did eat and drink with marvellous content, the old woman, the which was the bride, sat at the head of the table. And after so much labour was she tired; so she gat up and departed out of her house, at the back, down to the river Gerdau, and therein bathed she her feet. By this time did the Dean of Epsdorf and Owlglass set forth to ride home; and when that they approached unto her, Owlglass caused his horse to prance and curvet, that the bride might have content thereof; and so lustily did he this, that his girdle came unfastened, and his side-pocket fell down upon the ground. And when that the woman beheld this, she rose up and took the pocket, and sat down thereupon by the water. So it came to pass, that when Owlglass had got about a field’s length from the place where the woman sate, he found that he had lost his pocket, and therefore turneth he about and cometh again unto Gerdau, and he saith unto the woman: “Hast thou seen an old pocket anywhere upon the ground?” And the woman said: “Aye, upon my wedding-day did I find an old rusty pocket, and that have I yet unto this hour.” And Owlglass said unto her: “Thy wedding-day? Oho! long since was it that thou wast a bride! truly must it be an old rusty pocket, such an one will not I have!” Then said the woman: “Is it this?” but would not give it unto him; and so cunning might he be, yet gat he not his pocket, and he was fain to leave it behind him; and at Gerdau it is unto this day, and thither mayest thou travel if that thou desirest to look upon it.
The Seventy and Seventh Adventure
How that Owlglass gained money by a horse
On a time was Owlglass very poor; and of all his possessions there remained unto him nought but his horse; and he was sorely troubled in his mind, how it might be that he should get him food, lodging, and raiment. Then came he unto a village where there was a fair, and he gat him unto the chief inn, and in the stable lodged he the horse, and he bade the host bring him food to eat, and good cheer of wine. And according unto his words was it done.
And when he had eaten and drunk, and was no longer hungry, he bethought him how that he might get him some money. Therefore went he into the market-place, and there cried with a loud voice, that he had brought with him the most marvellous horse which had ever been seen, and that its tail was where its head should be, and in the place of its tail was its head. And this horse would he for little money show unto the village folk. Then came they unto him in great multitude, and each gave unto him some money according to his wealth; and he let them into the stable, and required of them that they should not in any wise betray him, and this promised they unto him. Then did he display unto them the horse, and lo! his tail was tied unto the manger, and his head looked forth the other way. Then laughed the village folk at the merry jest of Owlglass, and forgave him the money he had taken from them. Thus gat he store of money, and departed on his way with great content.
The Seventy and Eighth Adventure
How that at Oltzen Owlglass did beguile a boor of a piece of green cloth, and caused him to confess that it was blue
Of roast and boiled was Owlglass most woundily fond at all times, seasons, and occasions; and for that hunger pinched and griped him, by reason that honest bread he would never eat, it so befel, that to eat he must seek diligently for what he would have. Now it came to pass, that while the fairing was going forward in the good little town of Oltzen, whither from the Wend country came many, and also from divers other towns, it came to pass, I say, that the great and beloved Master Owlglass bent thitherward his steps, with intent to sell of his ware, which be fool-making and coney-catching, like any other honest merchant of them all. And truly do ye know, that all goods be most difficult to sell, and such ware as Master Owlglass possessed not less than other kind; so it behoved him to walk hither and thither, that he might have occasions to display that wit and honesty, for the which he was so famous.
Thereafter as he was, with weary steps—believing that honest trade had departed clean out of this mad and strange world in which we be—purposing to turn away, he beheld a country boor, of loutish mien, chaffering and cheapening with a peddling huckster vagabond, for a piece of green cloth, the which the boor gat, and therewith set forth toward home. “Fine work be this,” thought Owlglass unto himself, “that loutish boors should thus chaffer and cheapen cloth, the which for their betters was woven! Here be thou arbiter, and of wrongs redresser.” And within himself took he counsel how that cloth he might himself have, for, as being the compeer of princes and bishops, it would the better grace his good and fair personage and trappings. Therefore he sought out the name of the village unto which the boor was departed, and went and took unto him a hedge parson, and one other, a loose fellow, and gat him with them forth from the city, on that road whereby the boor should go; and bidding the twain to swear in faith and by’r lady to all he might say unto the country boor, set them in order upon the road, removed some little space the one from the other, and in such wise lay in wait for the coming of good master green-cloth boor.
In no long time came that worthy trudging along the road, with great rejoicing within his heart; for it seemed unto him most brave, that in good green cloth he should attire himself, like unto such as did with reviling and hard words take service from him; and he was, in very truth, right merry at heart, for he loved the colour green, as do all country wights. Unto him approached Owlglass, and opened his mouth, and spake unto him, saying: “Lo! what a fine blue cloth hast thou there. Of a truth it is azure, like the darkening sky which hangeth above our heads in marvellous mystery. Nay, but such a blue cloth is rarely woven. Prithee, whence didst thou get it?” And the boor answered, and said unto Owlglass: “Ne’er a blue cloth be this at all, but a swart green, the which I bought in the fair of Oltzen.” Then said Owlglass: “Nay, but it is blue; and thereon will I set twenty silver marks, and let the first man that cometh by between us twain determine and end the contention.” Thereat said the boor: “Nay, if that thou be beside thyself and wilt lose thy money, have with thee. I am content.” So they agreed thereupon.
With a good swinging trot cometh the first of Owlglass’s fellows trudging along the road, for he spied that the boor had made agreement with Owlglass. And the boor said unto the voyager: “Hold thou an instant; we have here a contention betwixt us upon the colour of this cloth. Say thou the truth if that it be blue or green, and we will therewith be content.” Then the man spake unto them, saying: “It is, of a truth, as fine blue cloth as ever eyes of mine beheld.” But the boor would not agree thereunto, and said: “Nay, but ye are two beguilers, cheats, and cozeners; green it is, but ye have agreed to deceive me.” But unto him quoth the wily Owlglass: “Lo! now that it may be perceived of me, that in this matter I am as innocent as any spotless lamb of the flock unto which I pertain, and that right and truth is on my side, let us make fresh agreement. See, hither, with measured steps, cometh a most reverend priest, who in pious meditation beguileth the weariness of travel. Let him be judge betwixt us, and by his word be we bound; for if Holy Church bind us not, then will no ties constrain us within virtuous paths.” And with such speech was the boor content.
Then when the priest (right good exemplar of all his tribe!) drew nigh unto them, Owlglass spake unto him, and said: “Reverend father, upon thy devout thoughts may we for a brief space intrude the base matters of this outer world; and we beseech thee, determine between this boor and myself what be the colour of this cloth.” “Nay, son,” quoth the reverend man, “but that can ye for yourselves most easily behold.” Thereat said the boor: “Yea, reverend father; but here have we two that would with knavery constrain me to believe a thing the which is contrary to reason and justice.” And unto him answered the priest, and said: “What have I to do with your contentions? So many things there be in this world which, contrary to reason and justice, find hot believers, men heated and molten in the furnace of vanity and self-conceit; and would ye contend over the hue and dye of a cloth? What care I if it be black or white? That with your own eyes can ye see.” “But, reverend sir,” quoth Master Bumpkin, “do ye, in the plenitude of your kindness, judge betwixt us, and say what be the colour of this cloth.” Then the priest said: “That ye twain may be at peace, and have no grief or ill-will at heart, or vain rejoicing one above the other, will I say that which ye may so easily see. The cloth is a deep blue.” And the boor marvelled thereat; but Owlglass turned round unto him, and said: “Lo! hearest thou what the good priest sayeth? O Holy and Excellent Church, in the which such true and faithful men be! O noble and worthy cause, which is upheld by such instruments of acute and keen temper! Behold, boor, the cloth is mine; and unto the Church must I pay somewhat of its value, as by decree of ecclesiastic it hath been awarded me.” Then the boor looked upon the three with much amazement, and said these words: “O’ my halidom! an if this man were not an ordained and sanctified priest, I would fain believe that ye were all liars, intending to cozen me of my cloth with conspiration and deceit, being three thorough-going knaves; but as I perceive that ye be a priest, I must put faith in ye whether ye be knave or no.”
Then he gave the cloth unto Owlglass; but if that he had known jack-priests as well as thou and I, he had not left it. Yet such is the world’s way; when the parson doeth justice, the boor must trudge home in ragged frock.
