The Marvellous Adventures and Rare Conceits of Master Tyll Owlglass

The Eighty and Second Adventure

How that Owlglass did at Bremen of the market-women buy milk, and cause it to be poured altogether into one tun

A pleasant jest wrought Owlglass at Bremen. At one season when that he came thither, he stood on the market, and he beheld that the boors’ women brought great store of milk thereto; and therewith he ’gan to think what a merry piece of knavery he might perform. Therefore he tarried awhile until a day on which the market was very full, and much milk was brought thither, and he fetched him a great tun, the which he set upon the market-place, and cried aloud unto the boors’ women that they should turn unto him, for he would buy their milk, and they should pour it into the tun. And every good wife of the which he took milk he bade write the measure and price therefor, upon a paper, and then sit down, for he would pay the money when that the tun was filled.

So the boors’ wives sat in a circle around Owlglass, and waited for their money, and rejoiced greatly at such a noble milk merchant (for they knew him not); and it came to pass, that after a while there was not any other good wife who had milk to sell. Then Owlglass opened his mouth and spake unto the women, and said unto them these words: “To-day have I not any money in pouch. And such of ye as cannot abide and give me credit for a matter of fourteen days, would do best to take forth her milk again:” and having thus maliciously ended his speech, he hasted to go away from the market-place. Thereafter contended the boors’ wives with much anger, and each would fain take her milk out of the tun first, and in their quarrelings the milk was spilled on the ground and on their clothes, and in their eyes; and it did most certainly appear as if milk from the clouds had been rained down. And all the townspeople beheld the merry conceit, and they were greatly contented with the wit of Master Owlglass.

The Eighty and Third Adventure

How that Owlglass spake unto twelve blind men, and persuaded them that he had unto them given twelve shillings; and how that they spent the money and came evilly off thereafter

And, it came to pass, that as Owlglass journeyed hither and thither up and down in the land, like an uneasy spirit as he was, he came again unto Hanover, and there he wrought not a few strange things. Therefore one day as he sate upon his horse beyond the city gate and rode a good way, there came along the road twelve blind men, the which he encountered. When that he beheld them he cried aloud unto them: “God give ye grace, blind men, whence come ye?” Then the company of blind men stood still and perceived that he sate upon a horse, and by that they judged him to be an honest gentleman—for respect is always due to one who is a cavalier; and who rides must needs be honest—so they took off their hats and saluted him, and spake unto him, saying: “Lo! noble and worshipful sir, good kind Christian gentleman, we have been within this city of Hanover; there had a rich man given up the ghost, and at his funeral feast were alms and baked meats bestowed upon us and other poor men, as be we. Yet for as much as frost and snow be on the ground, we were right sorely pinched with the cold.” Then answered Owlglass, and said unto them: “Ye say truly that it is cold; I fear me that of frost ye will utterly perish. Now look you, here be twelve shillings, enter ye again into the city, and get ye unto such an inn, [and he told them what inn they should seek], and spend ye these twelve shillings for God his grace and my sake, until that the winter be gone by, and ye be able to again set forth in comfort upon your voyage.”

Then the blind men stood in great honour and worship of the noble gentleman’s person, and bowed themselves before him, and gave him their thanks for his guerdon. For each blind man believed that his neighbour had received the money, to wit, in the manner that the first thought the second had it, and the second the third, and the third the fourth; and after this wise were they all hoodwinked, for not one stiver had Owlglass bestowed upon them. Thereafter they turned back, and gat them unto the hostel of the which Owlglass had told them; and when they had entered in, they spake unto the host, and told him how that it had come to pass that a good charitable gentleman had encountered them by the way, and had bestowed upon them twelve shillings, that they might eat and rejoice during the hard winter, until that spring should come again.

Now the host was a man greedy of gain, and he thought no more upon that saying, but how he might get the money; and he received them, and never did he dream within his stupid sconce to ask which had the money in pouch of them all. But he spake unto them, saying: “Dear and beloved brethren, ye shall here receive satisfaction, and your afflictions shall be comforted.” And he made haste to kill and hew down oxen and calves; and he made ready meats boiled and roast, and set them before the blind men, who fell to right gladly; and this feasting went forward every day, until he thought that they had eaten the value of the twelve shillings.

Then he spake unto them, and said: “Dear brethren, ye have eaten the value of the twelve shillings, methinks, let us therefore reckon.” And the blind men answered: “Yea;” and spake each unto his fellow, that he should take forth the twelve shillings, that good master host should be rewarded. But the one had it not, neither had the other; moreover they found that not a penny had any man of their company. And the blind folk sate still and scratched their pates, but found not the twelve shillings anywhere behind their ears; and they perceived that they had been beguiled. Then the host saw likewise that he had been cozened of his charges, and he sate there, and pondered what he should do. For he thought within himself: “Here be a company of blind rascals, and if that thou permittest them to depart, then dost thou lose thy charges; and if that thou keepest them will they eat yet more, and then thou wilt be at double cost.” So with no more ado he claps me the blind company of dear brethren into the pig-stye, and there may they make fine cheer with hay and straw.

At this time, Owlglass ’gan to think,—for with all his malice he had a good heart:—“Nay, but thy blind men must very nigh have eaten up the provision thou madest for them, and therefore go thou and seek news of them.” And he saddled his horse and disguised himself, and rode unto Hanover, and came unto the inn where the blind men lay. Thereupon, as he came into the court, and would have bound his horse up in the stable, he looked, and behold the blind men lay in the pig-stye. Thereat he gat him into the house, and spake unto the host, and said unto him: “What is this thing which thou hast done unto these blind men? Wherefore be they amidst the dirt and mire of the pig-stye? Have ye no bowels of mercy when ye see the vile fare they eat?” And the host answered him: “Nay, but I wish that in the water they lay all perished, if only my charges were paid.” Therewith telleth he unto Owlglass the whole story of the matter. Owlglass said unto him: “How, sir host, could ye not have a surety for this debt?” “Alas!” quoth the host, “right gladly would I have a surety if that it could be—and if that a certain surety be found, I would set free these poor men forthwith.” Thereat said Owlglass unto him: “See now, I will go and in this city make quest, if that I can find some charitable man that will do this thing for thee.”

So Owlglass gat him forth, and came unto the priest of the parish, and said unto him: “Most reverend and learned sir, hast thou a will to do a Christian kindness? For lo! I must expound unto thee, that mine host of the inn where I lie is possessed of an evil spirit within the past night, and he beggeth hard that ye would exorcise him, and cast out the evil demon.” The priest answered, and said: “Yea, that I will most cheerfully; for is it not mine office? Yet must we tarry a day or two; for with such things is haste greatly to be avoided.” Then quoth Owlglass: “I will go fetch his wife, that ye may repeat this thing unto her.” The priest replied: “Yea, bring her unto me, I warrant she shall be content.” Then departed Owlglass, and gat him to the host, and said: “I have found for thee a surety in good master parson of the parish. Give me now thy wife to bear me company unto him; for he will give her satisfaction.” Thereat was the host right glad, and bade his wife immediately resort with Owlglass unto the priest; and when they came thither, Owlglass said: “Behold, reverend sir, here is the woman, wife unto the host of the which I spake anon. Assure her now as before thou didst assure me.” And the priest said: “Yea, my good woman; be thou content. For is it not mine office to do deeds of charity? That which thy husband seeketh shall be in a short time performed within these few days.” And the woman was content, and returned again unto her husband, and said unto him, that the priest would perform the payment duly; and then was the host glad, and let the blind men depart, and rewarded Owlglass for his pains; and this last set forth on his journey, and tarried no longer in Hanover.

The third day after this, the woman went again to master parson, and demanded of him, that he should pay the twelve shillings. And he asked her, if her husband had said this thing unto her; and she said: “Yea.” Thereat he observed, “that such was the way with evil spirits; they would always have money.” But the woman said: “There be no evil spirits here; pay ye the charges, and therewith are we ended.” The priest quoth thereat: “I was admonished that your good man was possessed of an evil spirit, the which he would fain have cast forth; now this will I do, but of money know I nothing.” To him straightway answered the goodwife: “Nay, but this is the fashion with liars and shufflers; when that money is to be paid, they would with knavery escape. If that my husband be of an evil spirit beset, ye shall surely be advised thereof,” and therewith ran speedily unto her husband, and told him what the parson said.

After this took the host halberts and pikes, and ran with a company unto the parsonage. And when the parson beheld it, he cried aloud, and assembled his neighbours, and said unto them: “Do you, I charge ye, help me against this madman, who of an evil demon is sore possessed.” And the host said unto him: “Priest, remember thy surety, and do now pay me.” But the priest stood and blessed himself, and payed not at all. Then would the host have with a goodly staff stricken the priest, but that the boors came and parted the twain with great difficulty. But, so long as the host lived, he was ever seeking payment from the priest; and the priest affirmed that he had an evil spirit, and of that would he free him, but of money owed he unto him not a doit.

Thus fell out the end of the excellent adventure of Owlglass with the blind men, the host, and the parson.

The Eighty and Fourth Adventure

How that in a city of Saxony Owlglass sowed knaves

Knaves abound in many places; there be knaves of every degree: there be black knaves, white knaves, copper-coloured knaves, red knaves, and yellow knaves. There be knaves which ride in coaches and waggons; there be knaves on horseback; there be knaves on foot. There be knaves of high degree; there be knaves of low estate. There be knaves in Holy Church, devout knaves, which cheat heaven in their prayers, and earth in their tithes; there be knaves out of Holy Church, which, for wise reasons, do simulate a contempt thereof; there be knaves which buy, and there be knaves which sell; there be knaves which, with honest mien, declare themselves no better than they be, for thou in thy vanity condemnest them not, but thinkest them better than their speech declareth, and yet be these very knaves, sorry knaves, and shallow knaves. There be knaves which bear rule, and there be knaves over which rule is borne; there be knaves which bow the knee to knavish kings, princes, and lords; and there be knaves which set foot forth against all rulers, princes, and governors. There be knaves which help ye with seeming good fellowship, and there be knaves which, by opposing ye, do ye true service; there be knaves which amuse ye; there be knaves which laugh in turn at that which ye do: lo! indeed, not in this world can ye find any place which is devoid of knaves, creeping like caterpillars through your gardens, and destroying your fairest flowers, to fatten and batten, and crawl and die like other things.

Knaves sit smiling by your own hearthstone, deluding ye with love and fair service—your children be knaves, your fathers were knaves;—for in this world are secrets hidden—and, indeed, are we unto ourselves not true, but knaves altogether, excusing, palliating, concealing, hugging, with not a little fear and trembling, our favourite vices, or our evil desires. O what a discourse of knavery would a history of our mad world be, what quaking terrors of evil doings, what fierce self-destructions, what insane flight from self-condemning would be unfolded! Let us rejoice, my masters, that a little spice of honesty leaveneth the whole lump and maketh life endurable, our meat not poison, our porridge not altogether rat’s-bane. And truly this chronicle affirmeth, averreth, and with loud voice saith, that an if such words as these had been set down in courteous phrase, and not hurled from the priest’s pulpit or babbled from the fool’s booth, ye had not received, but had denied utterly the gracious assent which I do perceive sitteth upon your heart; thus, therefore, like all other things, is this chronicle but a knavish matter.

Of a truth, it may be most certainly believed, that to such a world it was necessary and fit, that a pitying eye and brain should see, and purpose despatch, from highest heaven to insulted earth a Prince of peace and justice. But in this chronicle, as in this world, is all honesty discarded; for the world is so turned topside t’ other way, that it may not be that we should distinguish gentle from simple, wise from foolish, honest man from knave. “Yet be of good cheer,” saith One who is higher than any of us; “I have overcome the world.”

Yet in one little town of Saxony espied Owlglass, when that he was therein, that not within its walls there could be a knave; yet might this be, for that he was strange unto the devices and nature of the folk which dwelt therein; and he fell into a deep contemplation and musing upon such a marvellous matter. And he took his way beside of the river Weser, the more at ease to reflect thereover. For while that he abode in that city, beheld he all that was done by the folk therein; and so strangely honest appeared their dealings, that he was tired and sick at heart with folk among whom he could not have any profit. And as he took his way along the bank of the Weser, he looked, and, behold! of pebbles shiny and clear, rolled in mass by the stream, was there a goodly heap; and he bethought how that of old some wondrous one did, by casting stones over his shoulders, produce men and women, the which in knavery excelled greatly. “Nay,” quoth he thereat; “why should not in this place a like marvel happen?” and with no more ado, he catcheth me up a sackful of these so shining stones, and entereth with great joy and content into the city.

Then in that street which is hard by over against the town-house, he beginneth to sow his crop of marvellous nature; but the people came running unto him and inquired of him, and fain would know what it might be that he was doing. “Why,” quoth noble Master Owlglass, “in this town here be ye so woundily honest, that for fear ye should be altogether without praise for your virtue, I sow ye a crop of knaves.” With that, my masters, ye should have heard the outcry and hallabaloo which the burghers did make. “Nay, nay!” they cried, “this city be, indeed, so crammed with an abundance of knaves that an if ye sow not honest folk, we shall surely perish.” But Owlglass said: “That may not be, for in this town have grown virtues so long that ye must change the crop, or let the ground be for awhile fallow.” Then they laid hands upon him and took him, and bade him answer his deeds before the town council. And the town council admonished him, and would have none of his crop, and bade him therewith carry his seed-sack out of their bounds. So Owlglass gat him forth, and entered into another city; but the fame of what he bare had been noised abroad, and so entirely did they detest knavery, and loathe cheats, that neither to eat nor to drink nor to tarry for rest would they permit Owlglass. Aweary of such ware, at last he entered into a ship, and would have departed by water, but the seed brake the bottom through, and he was nigh drowned; so into the River Weser returned the stones he had taken; and unto this day, whenever that any man is seized of great virtue, they give unto him water of the Weser to drink, the which strangely promoteth chousing, coney-catching, and gulling.

Thus endeth a great feat of our modern Deucalion.

The Eighty and Fifth Adventure

How that in the good city of Hamburg Owlglass hired him unto a barber and went through the casement unto his service

On a time came Owlglass unto Hamburg and there stood upon the Hop-market, and gazed hither and thither as he was wont to do. And unto him came up a barber, and spake unto him and said: “Lo! what seekest thou, and whence comest thou?” Then Owlglass said: “Of a truth, I come now straightway from the last place in the which I abode.” Upon this saith the barber: “What art thou for a workman?” And Owlglass said: “I am a barber, an it please ye.” Thereat the master hired him, and spake unto him saying: “Mark me, dost thou see yon house over against us with the casement down unto the ground.” “Yea,” quoth the man. “Then do thou straightway enter in there, and soon will I follow,” said the master. “Most truly,” said our worthy Owlglass. Then he gat him unto the house, and brake the casement all in pieces, and entered in thereby, and saluted the barber’s wife, who sate spinning within, and spake courteous words and said: “God bless this handiwork.” But the barber’s wife was afeared, and cried: “What labour and handiwork be this that thou dost, breaking me the casement after this wise? The foul fiend seize thee, loon!” “Nay,” quoth Owlglass, “impute not the marring of the casement unto me, except as diligent service, for your good man bade me enter in thereby, and I ever perform that which is enjoined me.” Then the woman said: “Truly, a faithful servant is he who marreth his master’s substance!” But Owlglass said: “Should not a servant perform his master’s bidding?” With that, during such conference betwixt the twain, cometh the master, and looked upon the broken casement. And he said unto Owlglass: “What is this? Couldst thou not enter by my house door, and leave me the casement whole? What be the cause that thou shouldst thus enter by a window.” “Nay,” answered Owlglass, “beloved master, ye bade me look upon the tall window and there enter in; and I did but according to thy words.” Thereat was the master content, for he considered within himself: “I can but from the money of his hiring take what will pay the charges of making my casement whole.”

Thereafter they went forward in comfort for some days. Then did the barber enjoin Owlglass that he should take a razor, and he instructed him, and said: “Now do thus evenly with the edge grind me the back, so that no notches be.” And Owlglass answered: “Yea, most willingly.” And after a season had gone past, the barber cometh privily behind Owlglass to see after what manner he was performing his labour, and Owlglass had ground the back as sharp as the edge, and marred the work altogether. So the master spake unto him saying: “What vile thing is this that thou dost?” And the other to him answered: “I do not any vile thing? But only according to thy words; didst not bid me to grind the back evenly with the edge? And so do I.” Then did the master wax very wroth, and said unto him: “Lo! get thee forth hence, and return in manner that thou didst come.” Owlglass answered him: “Yea,” and taking his bundle, springeth me forth through the casement again, and breaketh it, and so departeth. And though the barber was lithe and active, as be the fashion with barbers, yet could he never seize Owlglass, who, indeed, was a match for a good fleet runner.

The Eighty and Sixth Adventure

How that Owlglass did cause the host of the inn at Eisleben to be beset with great terror, by showing unto him a wolf, of the which he professed no fear

In Eisleben there dwelt an innkeeper who was mocker of others, and who thought that of all great hosts he was the exemplar and flower. Unto him came Owlglass in the winter time; and he abode in the inn with him while that the snow was on the ground. And while that the night was dark, there came three merchants from Saxony unto the inn, who would fain come unto Nürnberg. The host, who was swift of speech, spake unto them, and, with ready words, said: “Whence come ye folk so late, and why have ye tarried so long by the way?” And the merchants answered him, and said: “Behold, master host! be not wroth with us by reason of our lateness; a wolf did lie in wait for us by the way and attacked us, and with him had we to contend and beat him off; from that cause is it that we be so late with thee.” And when that the host heard their words, he mocked them, and said unto them: “Great shame is it that ye do let yourselves be stayed by a wolf—for if that I met two wolves in the field, I would alone contend with them and slay them; little account would I make of such a pair! And there were of ye folk three people, and by a single wolf were ye affrighted.” And thus continued the host to mock them the whole even through until that they gat them to bed.

All this while sate Owlglass by the fire, and heard what was said. And when that the night was far spent, in the which this host so despised the merchants, they gat them to bed and Owlglass lay with them in one chamber; and then conferred the merchants one with the other, as to how it might be brought about that the host should be rightly recompenced for his mockery and scorn, so that they might make him to hold his peace, for that afterwards they might take their ease in the inn. Then did Owlglass open his mouth, and spake unto them, saying: “Lo! an it please ye, beloved friends, truly do I mark that our host is nought but a vain speaker. Now, if that ye are content to hear me what I would say unto ye, I will so do that never more shall he speak unto ye of the wolf.” Thereat rejoiced the merchants with great content, and did promise him money, the which should be given unto him; and his reckoning, likewise would they pay. Then he bade them depart freely unto their business; but as they returned, he would have them lie at that same inn, and he would then also be there present, and he would cause the host to hold his peace, thereafter in the matter of the wolf. To that agreed they, and gat them ready for their voyage on the next day, and paid their charges and those of Owlglass likewise, and they all rode away therefrom, and the host called after them with mockery: “Be ye sure, ye merchants, that no wolf doth beset ye by the way.” But they answered, and said unto him: “Great thanks do we give unto thee; and if the wolves devour us, then come we not hither again.”

Then did Owlglass ride unto the hunt, and chased the wolves, and by God his grace killed he one, and this one did he put in the ice until that it froze hard. And when that it was about the season that the merchants should again come unto Eisleben unto the inn, Owlglass took the dead wolf within a sack, and gat him unto the inn according unto his promise, and there found he the three merchants. At supper time did the host yet mock the three merchants about the wolf; but they said that of a truth it had so happened unto them as they had said unto him. But the host continued to speak words of vain import, and declared unto them, that if he did meet two wolves in the field, he would shake the one by the head until that he died, and then would cut the other in pieces.

Thus went all conversation forward, until that they departed unto bed. Yet kept Owlglass silence, and spake no word until they had entered into their chamber and shut the door. Then he opened his mouth, and said unto them: “Lo! gentlemen and good friends, do ye still keep watch for a space, and put ye not out the light.” And when the host had gat him to bed with all his folk, Owlglass crept privily from the chamber, and bare with him the dead wolf, the which was frozen hard, and carried it into the kitchen, and with sticks supported it that it stood upright; then did he open its mouth wide, and therein set two children’s shoes, and thereafter gat he him unto the chamber where he abode with the merchants. In no long time thereafter cried he aloud for the host. Then did the host hear him, for yet was he not asleep; and he called unto him and demanded what he would have. Then they cried aloud unto him: “Alas! worthy master host, send unto us the maid or the man, for of thirst shall we else die!”