be, for yesterday I promised to come, and therefore I am determined to travel thither.” Then the Abbot, considering from the bottom of his heart his own austerity and hard dealing, and the humility and meek- ness of Libertinus, suddenly leapt out of his bed, gat hold of his feet, confessed that he had sinned and done wickedly, in presuming to offer unto so good and worthy a man so cruel and contumelious an injury. Libertinus, on the contrary, prostrate upon the earth, fell down at his feet, attributing all that he had suffered, not to any cruelty of his, but to his own sins and demerits. And by this means, the Abbot was brought to great meekness; and the humility of the scholar became a teacher to the master. Going afterward abroad about the foresaid business of the Abbey, many gentlemen of his acquaintance, that had him in great reverence, much marvelled, and diligently enquired by what means he came by such a swollen and black face: to whom he answered: “Yesterday,” quoth he, “at evening, for punishment of my sins, I met with a foot- stool, and gat this blow which ye see.” And thus the holy man, preserving both truth in his soul and the honour of his master, did neither bewray the fault of his father, nor yet incurred the sin of lying.
Had not so venerable a man as this Libertinus was, of whom you have told so many miracles and strange things, in so great a convent, some that did imitate his holy life and virtues?
Cfmptet Cfrtee: of a certain monk, tfiat toas garoenet to tfce same 3btieg, «I ©regorj?. Felix,' called also Corvus, one whom you know very well, and who not long since was Prior of the same Abbey, told me divers very strange things, some of which I will pass over with silence, because I hasten to other, but one there is which by no means I can omit. This it was.
13 Cfte Dialogue© of ®tegotp In the same Abbey there lived a certain monk, very virtuous, who was the gardener. A thief likewise there was, that used to climb over the hedge, and so to steal away the worts. The holy man, seeing that he did set many which afterward he could not find, and perceiving that some were trodden down, and other stolen away, walked round about the garden to find the place where the thief came in, which when he had found, by chance also as he was there, he lighted upon a snake, which he willed to follow him, and bringing him to the place where the thief entered, gave him this charge: “ In the name of Jesus,” quoth he, “ I command thee to keep this passage, and not to suffer any thief to come in.” Whereupon the snake forthwith, obeying his command- ment, laid itself across in the way, and the monk returned to his cell. Afterward in the heat of the day, when all the monks were at rest, the thief, accord- ing to his custom, came thither, and as he was climbing over the hedge and had put one leg on the other side, suddenly he saw the snake, which stopped the way, and for fear falling backward, he left his foot hanging there by the shoe upon a stake, and so he hung with his head downward, until the return of the gardener; who, coming at his usual hour, found the thief hanging there in the hedge, whom when he saw, he spake thus to the snake: “ God be thanked, thou hast done what I bade thee, and therefore now go thy way ”: upon which licence, the snake by and by departed. Then, coming to the thief, he spake thus unto him: “ What meaneth this, good brother? God hath delivered you, as you see, into mine hands: why have you been so bold as so often to rob away the labour of the monks? ” and speaking thus, he loosed his foot, without doing him any harm, willing him also to follow him; who brought Tlim to the garden gate, and gave him those worts which he desired to have stolen, speaking also to him in sweet 9t>bot €quitiU0 manner after this sort: “ Go your way, and steal no more; but when you have need, come hither to me, and what sinfully you would take, that will I willingly bestow upon you for God’s sake.” p£t0t- 1 have hitherto, as I now perceive, lived in an error: for never did I think that there had been any holy men in Italy, which had wrought miracles.
Cbaptet Jfour: of Cquitlus, abbot in tbe ptobince Of T^alCtifl. (©tcgocp. By the relation of vener- able Fortunatus, Abbot of the Monastery which is called Cicero’s Bath, and also of other reverent men, I have come to the knowledge of that which now I mean to tell you. There was a passing holy man called Equitius, dwelling in the province of Valeria, who, for his virtuous life, was in great admiration with all men, with whom Fortunatus was familiarly acquainted. This Equitius, by reason of his great holiness of life, was the father and governor of many Abbeys in that province. In his younger years, many and sore carnal temptations he endured, which made him more fervent and diligent in prayers, and to persevere continually in that holy exercise, which he did, craving most instantly of God to afford him some remedy. Living in that manner, it fell so out, that in vision, upon a certain night, he saw an Angel come unto him, who made him an eunuch, and so delivered him from all those carnal motions in such sort that never after he felt any more, as though he had not been any man at all. Trusting now upon this great grace received by the special goodness of God, as before he was a governor of men, so afterward he took charge likewise of women, and yet, for all that, did he continually admonish his scholars not easily to credit themselves herein, nor to follow his example, nor yet to trust upon that gift, which they had not in themselves, lest it turned to their own ruin and destruction.
Cfje Dialogues of ©t ©regotg At such time as divers witches were here in this city of Rome apprehended, one Basilius, that was a principal man in that wicked art, put upon him the habit of a monk, and so fled away to Valeria; and coming to the reverent Bishop of the city of Amirtin, he desired his v help, that he would, for the good of his soul, commend j him to Abbot Equitius. The Bishop went with him to the Abbey, where he made suit to the servant of God, that he would vouchsafe to receive into his convent that monk which he brought, whom so soon as the holy man beheld, he said to the Bishop: “This man, good brother,” quoth he, “ whom you commend unto me, seemeth in mine eyes to be a devil, and not any monk”; whereunto the Bishop replied and said, that he sought excuses not to grant his petition. “ Not so,” quoth the servant of God, “ but I do denounce him to be such a one as I see him, and because you shall not think that I will be disobedient, what you command I will perform.” Whereupon he was received into the Abbey. Not many days after, God’s servant travelled far off to preach unto the people in the country; after whose departure it fell out that, in the monastery of virgins which was under his charge, one of them, which in respect of her corruptible carcase seemed beautiful, fell into an ague, to be afflicted with sore fits, and not so much to speak as pitifully to cry out in this manner: cc I shall die forthwith, unless Basilius come unto me, and by his skill in physic restore me to my health.” But, in the absence of their father, none of the monks durst presume to enter into the monastery of virgins, much less was he permitted, that was yet but a novice, and whose life and conversation was not known to the rest of the brethren. A messenger, therefore, with all speed was dispatched to the servant of God, Equitius, to let him understand how such a Nun was fallen into a terrible burning ague, and how she did earnestly abbot aBquittud desire to be visited of Basilius: which news so soon as the holy man did hear, in an anger he smiled, and said: “ Did I not say beforehand that this companion was a devil and not a monk? Go your ways, and turn him out of the Abbey; and as for the virgin that is so sick of a fever, take no further care, for hereafter it shall not trouble her any more, nor she make any further inquisi- tion after Basilius.” The monk that was the messenger returning back, understood that the Nun was at that very hour restored to her health, in which the servant of God, Equitius, far distant, affirmed that she should: no question but by special miracle, like to the example of our Saviour, who, being desired to visit the son of a lord, did by his only word restore him to his health, so that the father at his return knew his son to be restored to life at that very hour in which he heard so much from the mouth of truth itself. 1 The monks, putting their father’s commandment in execution, turned Basilius out of the Abbey, who being so expulsed did often say, that he had by his incantations hanged Equitius his cell in the air, and yet that he could not hurt any of his monks. This wretch not long after, in this city of Rome, through the zeal of good people, for his wicked- ness was burnt, and so ended his life.
Upon a certain day, one of the Nuns of the same monastery, going into the garden, saw a lettice that liked her, and forgetting to bless it before with the sign of the cross, greedily did she eat it: whereupon she was suddenly possessed with the devil, fell down to the ground, and was pitifully tormented. Word in all haste was carried to Equitius, desiring him quickly to visit the afflicted woman, and to help her with his prayers: who so soon as he came into the garden, the devil that was entered began by her tongue, as it were, to excuse him- self, saying: “ What have I done? What have I done?
I was sitting there upon the lettice, and she came and did eat me.” But the man of God in great zeal com- manded him to depart, and not to tarry, any longer in the servant of almighty God, who straightways went out, not presuming any more to touch her.
A certain noble man likewise called Felix, of the pro- vince of Nursia, father to Castorius, who now dwelleth here with us in Rome, understanding that Equitius had not received holy orders, and yet that he did visit many places and preach unto divers, upon a day very boldly went and asked him, how he durst presume to preach, not having received holy orders, nor yet licence of the Bishop of Rome, under whom he did live; upon which demand, the holy man, being thus compelled, gave him to understand by what means he had obtained licence to preach: speaking thus unto him: “ What you say unto me, myself have seriously thought upon; but, on a certain night, a young man in vision stode by me, and touched my tongue with such an instrument as they use in letting of blood, saying: c Behold, I have put my word into thy mouth, go thy way and preach.’ And since that day, though I would, I can not but talk of God.”
Desirous I am to know, what manner of life he led, who is said to have received such gifts at God’s hand.
(StCgOtp* The work, Peter, proceedeth of the gift, and not the gift from the work, otherwise grace were not grace: for God’s gifts do go before all works of ours, although the gifts by the works which follow do increase; but to the end that you may understand what life he led, which was known to the reverent man Albinus, Bishop of Reatino; and many there be yet alive, which might very well remember the same. But what do you seek for further works, when as his purity of life was answerable to his diligence in preaching? for abbot aBquitius such a zeal to save souls had inflamed his heart, that albeit he had tlfe charge of many monasteries, yet did he diligently travel up and down, and visit churches, towns, villages, and particular men’s houses, and all this to stir up the hearts of his auditors to the love of heavenly joys. The apparel which he ware was so base and con- temptible, that such as knew him not would have thought scorn so much as to have saluted him, though himself had first offered that courtesy. And whithersoever he went, his manner was to ride, but that upon the most forlorn beast which could be found; his bridle was but an halter, his saddle no better than plain sheep’s skins. His books of divinity were put into leather bags, and those he did carry himself, some hanging on the right side of his horse, and some upon the left: and to what place soever he came, he did so open the fountains of sacred scripture, that he watered their souls with the heavenly dew of his sermons. Whose grace in preaching was so great, that the fame thereof cam 6 even to Rome itself: and as the tongues of flatterers do with their glorious words kill the souls of such as give them the hearing, at the same time some of the Roman clergy did in flattering sort complain unto the Bishop of this Apos- tolic see, saying: “ "What manner of rustical companion is this, that hath taken upon him authority to preach, and, being without learning, presumeth to usurp unto himself the office of our Apostolical Lord? wherefore, if it please you, let him be sent for before your presence, that he may taste of the severity of ecclesiastical disci- pline.” And as it falleth out, that he which hath much business is overcome sometime by flattery, if that pleasing venom be not speedily dispatched from the soul; at the persuasion of his clergy the Pope gave his consent that he should be sent for to Rome, to understand what talent and gift he had received from God. And so one Julianus, who afterward was made Bishop of Sabinum, was sent, *9 C&e Dialogues of ®regotp having yet commandment given him to bring him up with great honour, to the end that the servant of God might not thereby sustain any injury or detriment in his fame: who, to gratify the Pope's clergy, went in post to the Abbey, and finding there in his absence certain anti- quaries writing, demanded of them for the Abbot; who told him that he was in the valley at the bottom of the Abbey, mowing of hay. Julianus had a man very proud and stubborn, and such a one that he could scarce rule him. This man he sent in all haste for the Abbot; who in an angry mood went his way, and coming quickly into the meadow where beholding all that were there cutting of grass, he demanded which of them was Equitius; and when they shewed him where he was, being yet far off, he fell into a great fear, and became therewith so faint, that he could scarce go upon his legs: trembling in that manner he came to the man of God, and humbly bowing down his head, he embraced his knees and kissed them, telling him that his master was desirous to speak with him. After God’s servant had saluted him again, he willed him to take up some of the grass, and to carry it home for their horse, “ and I will,” quoth he, “ straight- ways come, when I have dispatched this little work which remaineth.”
In this meantime, Julianus much marvelled what the matter was, why his man tarried so long, and seeing him at length to come laden with grass upon his neck, in great rage he cried out to him, saying: “ Sirrah, what meaneth this? I sent you to fetch me the Abbot, and not to bring meat for mine horse.” “ Sir,” quoth his man, “ he will come to you by and by”: and forthwith the man of God came in base apparel and a pair of shoes beaten full of nails, carrying his scythe upon his neck; and being yet far off, his man told him that he was the Abbot. So soon as Julianus beheld him attired in that base sort, he contemned him, and devised with himself how to 20 abbot €quittu0 speak unto him in the most cross and crooked manner he could. But when God’s servant drew nigh, such an intolerable fear came upon Julianus, that he fell a trem- bling, and his tongue so faltered, that he could scarce deliver the message for which he came: whereupon he fell down at his feet, and desired that he would vouch- safe to pray for him; and withal gave him to understand, that his Apostolical father the Pope was desirous to see him. Upon the receipt of which news the venerable man, Equitius, gave almighty God most hearty thanks, saying that heavenly grace had visited him by means of the highest Bishop; and straightways he called for some of his monks, commanding horse to be made ready in all haste: but Julianus, weary of his journey, told him that he could not travel so soon, but of necessity must rest himself that night. “I am very sorry for that,” quoth the holy man, “ for if we go not to-day, to-morrow we shall not ”: and thus, by reason of the other’s weari- ness, he was enforced that night to remain in the Abbey. The next morning, about the dawning of the day, came a post with a tired horse, bringing letters to Julianus, commanding him not to presume to molest or to draw the servant of God out of his monastery. And when he required the reason of this counter-command, the messenger told him that, the next night after his depar- ture, the Pope was terribly frighted in a vision, for pre- suming to send for the man of God: whereupon Julianus, rising suddenly out of his bed, and commending himself to the venerable man’s prayers, spake thus unto him: “ Our father desireth you not to trouble yourself any further, but to stay in your monastery”: which when God’s servant heard, very sorry he was, and said: w Did not I tell you, that if we did not set forward on our ♦journey by and by, that afterward we should not?” Then upon charity he entertained his messenger a little while with him in his Cloister, and though by all means 21 €tc Dialogues of ©regorp he refused, yet he enforced upon him a reward for the pains he had taken. See therefore, Peter, how God doth preserve and keep them, who in this life do contemn themselves/ and how they are secretly honoured of the citizens in heaven, who are not ashamed outwardly to be little esteemed in this world *; and on the contrary, in the sight of God they be of no account, who in the eyes of their own friends and neighbours do swell through desire of vain glory. And therefore our Saviour Christ, who was truth itself, said to certain: You are they that justify yourselves before men, but God knoweth your hearts ^ for that which is high to men is abominable in the sight of Godf I marvel very much how so great a Bishop could be deceived in so worthy a man.
©tCgOtp* Why do you marvel, Peter? for the reason why we are deceived is, because we be men. What? have you forgotten how David, who usually had the spirit of prophecy, pronounced sentence against innocent Mephi- bosheth, the son of Jonathan, when he gave credit to the lying words of his servant Siba? a which thing notwith- standing because it was done by David, we both believe to be just in the secret judgment of God, and yet by human reason how it was just we cannot perc eived ] What; marvel then is it, if we, that be not prophets, be sometimes by lying tongues abused, and otherwise transported than charity and justice would: for it is much to be considered, that every Bishop hath his mind troubled with a world of business, and it cannot be, when the mind is distracted about many things, but that it is the less able sufficiently to examine those that be particular, and so much the sooner is he deceived in some special case, by how much he is busied with the multitude of many. f 7 It is most true that you say.
(Stegotp* But I must not pass over with silence that which the reverent man Valentinus, some time mine 22 Constantius t be Clerk Abbot, told me concerning Equitius. For he said, that his body being buried in the oratory of St. Lawrence the martyr, a certain country man set upon his grave a chest full of wheat, little considering or respecting how worthy and notable a man lay there buried. Whereupon suddenly a miraculous whirlwind came, and overthrew that chest and cast it far off, all other things remaining still in their former places; by which all did plainly per- ceive of what worth and merit that man was, whose body lay there buried.
To this must I also add another thing, which I heard of venerable Fortunatus, a man that doth much please me for his years, life, and simplicity. At such time as the Lombards came into the province of Valeria, the monks of the monastery of the reverent man Equitius fled from thence into the oratory, to the holy man’s sepulchre, into which place the cruel men entering, they began by violence to pull the monks forth, either to torment them, or else with their swords to kill them. Amongst whom one sighed, and for very bitter grief cried out: u Alas, alas, holy Equitius, is it thy pleasure, and art thou content, that we should be thus miserably haled and violently drawn forth, and dost not thou vouchsafe to defend us? ” Which words were no sooner spoken, but a wicked spirit possessed those savage soldiers in such sort that, falling down upon the ground, they were there so long tormented, until all the rest of the Lombards which were without understood of the matter, to the end that none should be so hardy as to presume to violate that holy place. And thus, as the holy man at that time defended his own monks, so did he likewise afterward succour and preserve many more that fled unto the same place.
Chapter jftoe: of Constantius, Clerk of tbc Cfjurcf) of %t. ^tepbett. <1 That which I intend now to tell you, I learned by the relation of one of my 23 fellow Bishops, who lived in a monk’s weed many years in the city of Ancona, and led there a good and religious life. Many also of mine own friends, who be now of good years and live in the same parts, affirm it to be most true. Near to the foresaid city of Ancona there is a church of the blessed martyr St. Stephen, in which one called Constantius, a man of venerable life, did serve there for clerk, who for his virtue and holiness was famous far and near, being one that utterly despised all worldly things, and with the whole power of his soul thirsted after the joys of heaven. Upon a certain day, it fell so out that there wanted oil in the church, by reason whereof the foresaid servant of God had not wherewith to light the lamps: whereupon he filled them all with water, and, as the manner is, put a piece of paper in the midst, and then set them on fire, and the water did so burn in the lamps as though it had been very oil; by which you may gather, Peter, of what merit this man was, who, enforced by necessity, did change the nature of the element.
lp£t£t. Very strange it is that you say, but desirous I am to know what humility he had inwardly in his soul, who outwardly was so wonderful in the eyes of the world.
<£>t£0Otp. Among miracles very fitly do you enquire the inward state of the mind; for it is almost incredible how miracles, wrought in the sight of men, do with their temptation inwardly assault the soul. But after you have heard only one thing, which this venerable Constantius did, you will quickly perceive what an humble man he was.
IPCtet. Having now told me one of his miracles, it remaineth that you do edify me also with the humility of his soul.
<8>tC0Otp. Because the report of his holy life was very much spread abroad, many from divers countries travelled 24 Constantins tfje Clctfe to Ancona, being very desirous to see him; and amongst others a certain country fellow was come far off, for that very purpose: at which time it so chanced that the holy man was standing upon a pair of wooden stairs, busying himself there in mending of lamps. A very little person he was of stature, with a thin face, and to the outward view contemptible. This fellow that came to see him enquired earnestly which was the man for whose sake he had travelled so long a journey. Those that knew him forthwith told him, pointing to Constantius. But as foolish souls do measure the merits of men by the quality of their bodies, so he, beholding him so little and con- temptible, by no means could be persuaded that they told him truth; for in the country fellow’s mind there fell out, as it were, a great contention betwixt that which he had heard, and that which he saw; and he verily per- suaded himself that he could not be so little in his eyes, who was so great in his former conceit; and therefore, when very many did constantly affirm that he was the man, the simple soul despised him, and in scoffing manner said: “ I verily believed that he had been a goodly great man, but this fellow hath not any thing at all in him that is like a man.” Which words of his the servant of God, Constantius, hearing, forthwith left his lamps which he was in hand with, and in great haste came merrily down the stairs, embraced the country clown, and of exceeding love held him fast in his arms, kissed him, gave him great thanks for having that opinion, and spake thus unto him: “Thou only,” quoth he, “hast thine eyes open, and dost truly behold what 1 am.” By which fact we may easily gather what an humble man he was, that loved the country fellow the more for contemning him; for injurious words and contumelious usage try what a man is inwardly in his soul rjjfor as proud men are glad of honour, so those that be humble for the most part rejoice in contempt and disgrace, and when they 25 Cf)e Dialogues of St ©regorp behold themselves to be of no account in the opinion of others, glad they are, because they see that to be con- firmed by the judgment of others which inwardly in their own souls they had of themselves.
JPetet This man, as I perceive, was outwardly great in miracles, but yet greater by his inward humility of soul.
Cbaptet Sir: of 9@arcellinus, 'Bisbop of Ancona, q ©regorp. Marcellinus, also a man of holy life, was Bishop of the same city of Ancona; who was so sore troubled with the gout, that being not able to go, his servants were enforced to carry him in their hands. Upon a day, by negligence, the city was set on fire, and though many laboured by throwing on of water to quench it, yet did it so increase and go forward that the whole city was in great danger; for it had laid hold of all the houses that were next it, and consumed already a great part of the town, none being able to help or with- stand it. In so pitiful a necessity and great danger, the Bishop, carried by his servants, came thither, and com- manded himself to be set down right against those furious flames, and in that very place whither the force of the fire did seem most to bend: which being done, the fire marvellous strangely turned back into itself, and as it were cried out, that it could not pass the Bishop; and by this means was it stopped from going forward, [and] went out of itself, not being able to touch any other buildings. By which, Peter, you see what an argument of great holiness it was, for a sick man to sit still, and by his prayers to quench those raging flames.
I do both see it and much wonder at so notable a miracle.
Chapter ^>eben; of Bonnosus, pttot of t&e abbep in 0@ount ^oracte. q ©regorp. Now i intend to let you understand somewhat or a place not far distant, which I heard of the reverent Bishop Maximianus, and 26 Jl3onno0us of amount ^otactc of the old monk Laurio, one whom you know: both which are yet living; and as for Laurio, he was brought up under that holy man Anastasius, in the Abbey which is hard by the city of Nepi; and Anastasius, both by reason of the nearness of the place, equal love of virtue, and like profession of life, was daily in the company of holy Nonnosus, Prior of the Abbey which is in mount Soracte. This Nonnosus had for his Abbot a very sharp man, whose rough conditions notwithstanding he did always bear with wonderful patience, and did in such sweet sort govern the monks, that oftentimes by his humility he appeased the Abbot’s anger. The Abbey, standing in the top of an hill, had never an even and plain place fit for a garden; one only little plot of ground there was, in the side of the mountain, but that was taken up of a great stone which did naturally grow there, so that by no means it could serve for a garden. Yet venerable Nonnosus, upon a day, began to think with himself that at least that piece of ground would serve very well to set worts, if by any means that huge stone could be taken away; but then he likewise thought that five hundred yoke of oxen would not be able to stir it; whereupon, despairing of all human help, he betook him- self to God’s goodness, and in that very place gave himself to prayer in the quiet time of the night, and behold, on the morning, when the monks came thither, they found that huge stone removed far off, and a very