Prince Ferdinand

CONCERNING THE HOLY PRINCE FERDINAND, SON OF JOHN KING OF PORTUGAL, MASTER OF THE KNIGHTS OF AVIS, OF THE CISTERCIAN ORDER,

WHO DIED IN CAPTIVITY AMONG THE MOORS AT FEZ,

And was translated to the monastery of Batalha near Leiria in Portugal.

IN THE YEAR 1443.

PRELIMINARY COMMENTARY.

Concerning the Acts, written by his Secretary and companion, the cult begun, and the images; the days of his death and of his translation.

Ferdinand, son of King John, in the Leiria diocese of Portugal (Bl.)

BY THE AUTHOR D. P.

[1] Leiria, a city of Portugal, very well fortified, and in the year 1545 made Episcopal, was especially dear to John the First of this name; from whom, the Castilians being conquered at Aljubarrota in the year 1386, In a monastery, founded for the memory of the victory of the year 1386, he entered into peaceful possession of the kingdom, to which the Portuguese had called him, notwithstanding the defect of his birth. That victory, since it was obtained on the vigil of the Assumption of the Virgin, there in the place of the contest, now commonly called Batalha (that is, of the Battle), he built the church of St. Mary of Victory, with a notable convent of Preachers; and a Royal chapel, for a burial-place for himself and his own; for which end, as many tombs as he had begotten children, the sepulchre and altar of the holy Infant, he had erected there, each with its own altar: of which altars none is now more honored, than that which, erected to the fifth-born of his sons, the Holy Infant Ferdinand, in the year 1451 received his intestines, and twenty years after his whole body too, brought from Fez, the capital of Tingitan Mauretania, whither he had been carried captive in the year 1438, in the sixth month from when he had given himself into the power of the Barbarians. who died at Fez in the year 1443. For made a victim of Christian charity, that he might free from inevitable death or captivity the troops besieged by an infinite multitude of barbarians, through almost incredible hardships he prolonged a long martyrdom there, until the year 1443, and this 5th day of June.

[2] The whole sequence of the tragedy, under the title of a Chronicle, was written by Joannes Alves, The Acts, written in Portuguese by his Secretary, or rather Alvarez (for so Cardoso and other more recent writers express the name whole), the Secretary of the holy Prince on that expedition, and companion of his captivity, as an eyewitness; the names of places and persons, and the numbers of years and days, as Chronologists are wont, accurately distinguishing; and ending with certain principal Miracles, before and after related by himself, wrought by the intestines carried to Portugal, briefly noted. That Chronicle, printed from the Author's original manuscript (I know not by whom or in what year), when Fr. Hieronymus do Ramos, or de Ramis, of the Order of Preachers, grieved that it was utterly failing in the booksellers' shops, he arranged it for a new printing in the year 1577, in the year 1577 Hieronymus de Ramis published it. to be made at Lisbon by Antonius Ribeyro, into 42 Chapters; and added one, in an entirely dissimilar style, nor of equal accuracy or certainty, concerning the body brought to Portugal, which for 29 years had hung before the gate of Fez. He also interpolated the Chronicle itself in some places, yet with this caution, that he separated his additions from the rest of the context by such brackets []. The copies of this edition too having again so failed, that he could scarcely find one, our Father Franciscus a Cruce, Librarian of the Most Illustrious Archbishop of Lisbon D. Ludovicus de Sousa; nor would he who possesses it as a great treasure allow it to be carried into Belgium, the same Father Franciscus took care to send it to me transcribed.

[3] The language is Portuguese, and indeed of the 15th century, quite different from the present. These are here given translated into Latin. Yet I presumed to make that whole writing Latin; just as from a manuscript of almost similar antiquity I made into Latin, in the Appendices to the 12th of May, the Life of the holy Infanta Joanna, born to Alfonso V, granddaughter of this Bl. Ferdinand, written by a member of the household: would that with similar success! Since the labor spent on this brought great moment (as is written to me from Rome) toward winning the cause at Rome, concerning the old cult exceeding the memory of men, by the Decree of the preceding year 1692. For these ancient and simple monuments of contemporary authors have, among all fair appraisers of things, much more efficacy for obtaining credence, than the more elegant compositions of this age: From the same Vasconcellus made a Latin epitome, such as in the present subject is the Recapitulation of the Acts of the same Prince Ferdinand, among the other Recapitulations of the Kings of Portugal published in Latin by our Father Antonius Vasconcellius about the year 1621, no. 14, although it was received from the old Chronicle summarily and faithfully. Not a little more at length the same History, together with the History of the aforesaid Joanna, in the Castilian language, about the year 1595 of Christ Fr. Hieronymus Roman, an Augustinian Hermit of Logroño, had published, following Hieronymus de Ramis; and Hieronymus Roman made a Castilian one. and seemed in his Prologue to promise a great accession of memorable circumstances, boasting that he had had what his predecessors had lacked, several monuments of the Archive of Lisbon and Avis; but the Portuguese and Castilian editions being compared with each other, I find nothing worthy of such ostentation; nor a single writing cited, which was received from either archive, at least as far as concerns Ferdinand, of whom we treat.

[4] The Fathers of the convent of Batalha, asked about the past and present sacred cult, accustomed to be paid to the same Infant; On the altar a statue exhibited as of a captive, after briefly describing his sepulchre

and the custom of the faithful, bringing their Rosaries thither, to touch the inner chest (as we shall note from Hieronymus Roman at no. 128, letter h), thus continue their letter to Father Franciscus a Cruce. "Beside the said sepulchre, there is a small chapel, skillfully adorned, ornamented with a wooden panel, placed upon the altar, and gilded at the edges: in which panel, described with an old and elegant brush, is found the series of the Infant's life: his marble statue is seen placed upon the altar: but one which expresses to the life the lowly garment; the mournful face, the long beard, the unkempt hair; and finally the sleeves, chains, and fetters, and that form which he is believed to have had given over to captivity: but on the head of this statue, no rays, no splendor shines forth, but there is eminent above the head of the same image, that which is manifoldly painted in the panel."

[5] Looking to that statue, Vasconcellius, concerning the effigy (which he wove into his work elegant enough, and which it will suffice to set here expressed as far as the shoulders), affirms, (from whose features it differs too much, that it was extracted from that exemplar which is placed at his sepulchre at Batalha: but there, he says, he is depicted in common garb, here distinguished with the adornment of arms; and indeed with that form of arms, which for the use of our age pleased him more, than those knotty clubs, rusty axes, and shapeless cuirasses, of which there was use each in its own time, a more elegant image in Vasconcellius) and which have more of vastness than of majesty, as he speaks in his Prologue. But as the lovers of Roman antiquity among the fragments of statues, things vile to the ignorant, precious to the learned, rejoice to find

"The Curii now halved, and the lesser nose Of Corvinus, and Galba lacking ears and nose";

so too that rude armature of the ancients breathes a certain esteem of itself to the lovers of antiquity; and from them Vasconcellius would have merited greater favor, if he had exhibited all things to be seen as he found them. In Ferdinand certainly he will seem to have changed more than the garb, to one reading the premised words of the eyewitnesses, by whom is described the neglect of beard and hair, which you would in vain seek in the Vasconcellian image: and a panel, representing the deceased's hardships with rays. wherefore I vehemently wish a truer copy were painted in the place itself, and sent to be engraved. Meanwhile, receive in one panel collected ten tablets, as they were transmitted to me with the copy of the Chronicle, and perhaps in the edition of the year 1577 are had printed in woodcuts, for the size of the book, in quarto as they call it: which you may suspect to be taken from the panel of the aforesaid altar, although here you see no rays: unless these too be older than that very panel; and therefore lack rays.

[6] The aforementioned Fathers of Batalha thus continue the instruction sent to us: At it Masses are frequently celebrated "At the aforesaid altar, rather often within the year in honor of the holy Infant, always with white vestments, Masses are celebrated": but that the use of such vestments and indeed most precious and plainly festive ones was even when on the Anniversary the Office and Mass is sung, with the more precious vestments, and those white, as they are wont for other deceased, as Ramos observes at the aforecited number. On the vigil of All Saints however all things are done more solemnly, so that this seems to be held as it were the proper feast of Ferdinand; as hitherto the proper feast of Bl. Nonnius the Carmelite is reckoned at Lisbon on the 2nd of November, on account of the more solemn memory of him on the day of the Dead, although he died on the 12th of May: whom as I then deferred to November, on account of the expectation of the old monuments which are said to survive, and have not hitherto been communicated to those asking; this one too, although said indubitably by all writers to be the Holy Infant Ferdinand, also on the Vigil of All Saints, I would have deferred to the same November, or the day before its Kalends, if I had not obtained the most desired Chronicle of Joannes Alvarez: since on this his birthday nothing is done, which is not wont to be done the whole year, but something is done in the month of November.

[7] I could also have deferred it, if on account of the aforesaid expectation there had been need, until the 17th of this month, and on the day of the Translation, the 17th of June, on which some particular memory is made of the body translated to the monastery of Batalha, although the Religious there do not indicate it, indeed expressly asked are silent, and by being silent seem to deny it; yet there presume Arnoldus Wion, in the Monastic Martyrology, confusing it with the Birthday (which error Menardus, Bucelinus, and Chalemotius followed), and citing his German Martyrology and writing thus: "In Spain, of St. Ferdinand, son of John King of Portugal, who, being general Master of the Knights of Avis, captured in war by the Saracens (nay, given over to them of his own accord) lived among them in great humility and patience, confused by many recent writers with the day of his death. and famous for miracles rested in the Lord." Wion, in the General Catalogue of the Saints who are not inscribed in the Roman Martyrology, Philippus Ferrarius also follows: but he reproves him, that after his manner he absolutely calls him Saint, whom he should rather have called Blessed. Indeed the title of Saint, with the addition of Infant, King, Brother or the like, is taken no otherwise than that of Blessed, until the Apostolic See approve it, as appeared in the holy King Ferdinand, who first in recent memory, after the cause was won at Rome, is called absolutely Saint. No less however does Ferrarius himself deserve to be refuted, that he assigned to Lisbon the Deposition of Ferdinand, which was made near Leiria, distant from Lisbon 14 leagues and more. For that is the unhappiness of writers, and wrongly deferred to August by Henriquez. as long as they are compelled mutually to follow one another, fortified by no newer more certain instruction; and strive to explain or correct something from their own fancy. So Chrysostomus Henriquez, when he had inserted into the Bundle of Cistercian Saints, distinction 36, the Life composed by Vasconcellius, and then arranged the Cistercian Menology; although he had found noted neither the day of death nor of translation, yet wished to define some, and took the 17th of August and assigned it to the Translation, perhaps taught the number of the day from elsewhere, slipping in memory in naming the month.

[8] Barnabas de Verges, reckoned by Allatius among the Urban Bees, or learned men, Someone adds, the 17th day, at St. Paul's at Rome, who from the year 1630 through all 1632 were present at Rome, and published something in print, wrote in Spanish El Norte, that is the Cynosure, or (as he interprets it) a spiritual Directory, in which the movable feasts, and others of the whole year are indicated, as also the Relics, cemeteries and other sacred places of Rome and outside the walls, at Grignan 1631 in 12mo. That little book never came to our hands: is celebrated with great Indulgences: but Cardoso at the 17th of June in his Commentary, letter e, notes from it the following, thus to be rendered into Latin: "On that day is celebrated the feast of St. Ferdinand, son of the King of Portugal of the Order of St. Benedict (for of this a particular Branch is the Cistercian), at St. Paul's outside the walls, where it is possible to obtain six thousand four hundred and eight years of Indulgences, as many Quarantines, and remission of the third part of sins: but that feast is celebrated also in the other monasteries of the same Religion." but of these no mention elsewhere; Nothing such is read in the Index of Feasts and Indulgences, which Octavius Pancirolius subjoined to the Hidden Treasure of the City of Rome in the year 1625; nothing either in Carolus Bartolomaeus Piazza, in his Sanctuary or perpetual Roman Menology, for the visitation of churches, the Indulgences of feasts &c., published about the year 1675: nothing finally do the Benedictine Monks at St. Paul's, asked about that matter, know to answer; whence it becomes more than probable, that the credulity of the Spaniard was basely imposed upon by someone, catching at admiration from the enormous number of years and quarantines.

[9] and more moderate are those which Paul II granted, How much more moderate are the true Indulgences of that time, you may learn from the Bull of Paul II, with a notable commendation of Ferdinand, given in the year of the Lord's Incarnation one thousand four hundred seventy, on the fourth of the Ides of January, in the 7th year of his Pontificate, which is recited in Cardoso in these words at the 5th of June in the Commentary: "Paul, Bishop, servant of the servants of God, to all the faithful of Christ who shall inspect the present letters, Greeting and Apostolic benediction. The more frequently we lead the minds of the faithful to works of devotion, the more salutarily we provide for the salvation of their souls. Desiring therefore that the chapel of St. Anthony of Lisbon; in which by the ordinance of our beloved daughter in Christ, the noble lady, Isabella Duchess of Burgundy, on the day of the death of the late Ferdinand Infant of Portugal, brother of the same Duchess for the chapel of St. Anthony at Lisbon, (who passed over to Africa for the conquest of the infidels, and for the liberation of the Christians, then existing in those parts, and otherwise unable to be freed, gave himself of his own accord as a hostage into the hands of the same infidels; and by those same infidels was consigned to dire prisons, and afflicted with torments, for several years; and manfully persisting in the Catholic faith, like a strong athlete, after very many tortures, sicknesses, and labors, established in the parts and captivity of those same infidels, rendered his soul to Christ his redeemer) a solemn Anniversary is celebrated each year; may be frequented with fitting honors, and the faithful of Christ may the more gladly flow together for devotion's sake to the same; for celebrating the anniversary of Ferdinand, as one dead among the infidels. and may pour out prayers to God for the salvation of the souls of Isabella and Ferdinand aforesaid, and of their progenitors, that there they may behold themselves more abundantly cherished with the gift of heavenly grace; trusting in the mercy of Almighty God and the authority of his Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, to all the faithful of Christ, truly penitent and confessed, who shall devoutly visit the aforesaid chapel on the day of the aforesaid Anniversary, and be present at its celebration, and pour out prayers for the salvation of the souls of Isabella, Ferdinand, and their progenitors, seven years and as many carenes being granted. we mercifully relax in the Lord seven years and as many quarantines of the penances enjoined on them, the present letters being valid for perpetual times."

[10] There a daily Mass being founded, To this Brief was consequent another, given in the same year on the 18th of November, concerning one daily Mass, which the same Duchess established to be celebrated in the same place, that is in the paternal house of St. Anthony of Padua, "for the soul of the holy Infant, as also of King John and the Lady Philippa his parents," says Cardoso; at the expediting of which Brief was present D. Fr. Joannes Alvarez, Abbot of the Palace of Sousa, servant and Secretary of the aforesaid Infant, whom the Duchess herself had destined for Rome to that end: whence the Bulls brought, the Veadores, that is the Stewards or Treasurers of the city, received with all devotion, praising the Lord our God, and giving thanks to the aforesaid Lady Duchess, for such favor and benefit, by the care of Isabella Duchess of Burgundy. and her holy desires and good will, which she always had and has for these kingdoms; offering themselves to all service, with that affection of good and faithful servants, with which the inhabitants and natives of this city always were and henceforth wish to be toward her. So from public

Acts, described by Cardoso, I render into Latin; and at the same time I exhibit from the Necrology of the Metropolitan church the words related by the same Cardoso, by which the memory of the holy Infant is there consigned thus.

[11] "On the Nones of June let the Anniversary be made for the soul of D. Inf. Ferdinand, The Memory of the holy Infant in the Necrology of Lisbon; the late virtuous and victorious Prince, son of D. John King of Portugal and the Algarve, who in the year of the Lord 1437 in the siege of the city of Tagasta, (the error is to be pardoned in that age, since Tingis and Tagasta were very different cities) in Africa, for the liberation of all Christians, then existing there in the hands of the Saracens, like a most pious Christian offered himself of his own accord: in whose power afterward for almost six years, patiently sustaining various reproaches, prisons together with chains, at last in the city of Fez, on the 5th of June, in the year of the Lord 1443, closed his last day. Who bequeathed to this Chapter one excellent book, containing the Sanctoral and the Dominical, and another Missal Office, and one Missal adorned with gold, and twelve processional books, one Ordinary of the Masses and Hours of the whole year; one frontal of arras, in commemoration of his Anniversary &c." on account of the legacies made to the Chapter. But how the observance of similar Anniversaries instituted for the soul of someone, though most holily deceased, takes nothing away from the more religious cult, meanwhile introduced by popular devotion, confirmed by miracles, and approved by the long toleration of the Ordinaries, has been shown by us on the 11th of May, where concerning SS. Walbert and Bertilia, no. 11; and the same will again be shown below before the Acts of St. Norbert, no. 4.

ACTS

by Joannes Alvarez, the Saint's Secretary and companion of his captivity, written in Portuguese. From the edition of Hieronymus de Ramis, in the year 1577.

Ferdinand, son of King John, in the Leiria diocese of Portugal (Bl.)

FROM THE PORTUGUESE OF JOANNES ALVAREZ.

CHAPTER I.

Ferdinand's birth, his virtues toward God and neighbor.

[1] The Holy Infant Lord Ferdinand was fifth in the order of the sons of John, of good memory the first of this name, Queen Philippa heavy with Ferdinand, but the tenth among the Kings of Portugal (who was also the sixth King of the Algarves, and of the Catholic Princes, after the destruction of Spain, the first Lord of Ceuta in Africa), and of his Wife Queen Philippa, who, daughter of John Duke of Lancaster, was the full sister of Henry the Fifth King of England. She was held by great fevers approaching her delivery: whom together with her child when the physicians had despaired of being able to save, they decreed for her a potion, to hasten the birth with danger to the fetus. When the husband King was offering it to his languishing wife; she herself shuddered, and denied that her temporal life was preferable to her to the eternal salvation of her son: she refuses the medicine that would harm the fetus, but she said that she trusted in the power of the holy Cross, through which both could be saved, that one at least would attain to the grace of baptism, if she should die in childbirth. These things heard, the King casting away the cup he held; had brought from the church of the Holy Cross of Marmelar the venerable portion of the sacred Wood: which being brought to the pregnant woman, and brings forth a living child by the vow on the 29th of September 1402. the fetus happily came forth within a few days in the year 1402, on the feast of St. Michael the Archangel in the month of September. To the weight of which, then hung up, the Queen began twice yearly, on the feast of the Holy Cross in the month of May, and on the aforesaid feast of St. Michael, to render an offering of wax, until he himself by his age could fulfill for himself his mother's vow.

[2] From a nativity of this kind there flowed into that holy Infant, Yet he was always sickly, until his 20th year of age. for all the first twenty-five years of his life, grave and many and almost continual diseases. For from his mother's womb he came forth so emaciated and as it were withered; that he was at once baptized, because he was believed about soon to expire. But his whole skin flowed off from him in shreds, so large, as if they were gloves or boots. Pains of the heart, as long as he lived, he suffered continually: but God had infused into him, and conserved infused, such virtues, His perpetual virginity, that his conversation seemed angelic rather than human. He kept his virginity most whole, nor ever touched any woman. Very well versed in sacred Scripture, he had coupled all the moral virtues to knowledge, acquired more by a divine gift than by study. From the fourteenth year of his age he began, nor ever omitted, to recite all the Canonical Hours, according to the use of the Church of Salisbury. Most observant of the divine and ecclesiastical precepts, and his utmost accuracy in sacred matters. with all his affection he loved God; and although toward those things which concerned the service of his father and lord the King, likewise of his brother King Edward, he was always prompt and solicitous; yet for that cause he would have omitted nothing of those things which pertained to the service of God.

[3] The splendor of the chapel, its ministries and privileges. He had his Chapel splendidly furnished with vestments and all other necessary things; assiduous ministers too in it, with singers, to complete the Office according to the Salisbury rite: to which, that greater honor and reverence might accrue, he had obtained from the Roman Pontiff several graces; and specially a license, that in it, wherever it might be, he might have administered the sacraments of Penance, Baptism, Communion and extreme Unction, the license of the ordinary Bishops or Prelates not being required. Likewise that the Chaplains might enjoy the offerings of the Infant himself and of his domestics, even when these happened to celebrate Divine service in other parishes: under whom, that all might conduct themselves more decently, he ordered a chair to be placed for himself before the curtain, so that his sight might admonish all of their duty. He skillfully and studiously provided for his household, The order and discipline of the whole household. for all their necessities both spiritual and corporal: knowing that an account was to be rendered by him for each. But he took care that each year the individuals should confess their sins, and those who had attained a fitting age should also communicate: he himself by example going before to much devotion: indeed he had even obtained from the Holy Apostolic See, that as many as should serve him a whole seven years, or die in the same, should obtain indulgence of all guilt and penalty at the article of death: truly a faithful and prudent servant, whom the Lord set over his household.

[4] So great was the holy Infant's humility, that it seemed wonderful to all, Great humility, especially in sacred matters, to some even excessive, especially among ecclesiastical persons and toward divine things. The processional pomps, and the Venerable Sacrament, when it was carried to the sick, he most devoutly accompanied, bearing in his hand a lighted torch. On Maundy Thursday, and the two following days, and the very Sunday of the Resurrection, he accurately observed all the ceremonies of that holy time, the least of which to have neglected he would have reckoned a great crime to himself. With much reverence he received devout persons, according to each one's state; yet he honored more for the merit of their virtues those whom he had known to excel in greater ones. and those supplicating him, women and the poor. From the table daily he heard whoever asked to be heard: then he had the rest of his time so ordered, that his address was always ready for anyone. To the female sex universally he had this honor, that whomever approaching him, as soon as he had seen, he would hear, and the heard dismiss, lest they be compelled to be seen longer among men. His face he never turned away from the afflicted and the poor, nor despised the necessities of those imploring him; but succored each as he could. With the sick he greatly sympathized; nor did he let them go from him frustrated of their petition. A dishonest, abusive, or reproachful word to another never came forth from his mouth. In matters to be done he gladly sought and followed another's judgment.

[5] The adornment of garments on more solemn days. From games, and feasts, and ceremonies, instituted for the honor of God and the Saints, he was so far from shrinking, that at the same, even when wont to be performed by common people, he gladly took part. By a rich furniture of garments and equipment he was not indeed captivated; yet he used it on more solemn days, and whenever either the reason of his state, or the honor of the King required some splendor. But intending to please God alone, he esteemed as nothing what worldly men might say and feel about him. Far from all avarice, to the poor and to beggars he liberally distributed all his goods: Courtesy toward the poor, but if money failed, the defect was supplied by good will, expressed in sweet words. But he was especially liberal toward lepers and toward redeeming captives: reckoning that these were afflicted before others and pressed by greater necessity.

[6] To all the monasteries throughout the kingdom, when they celebrated their provincial or general chapters, liberality toward the Religious, and pious places; he imparted great alms, that he might share in the prayers of both men and women, living under regular observance. To all confraternities he gave his name: and stretching out helping hands to the repair of churches and monasteries, he hoped there for the communion of the good works to be exercised. In Holy Week he clothed as many poor as he counted years of age. But he kept the expenses of his house so ordered, that a tenth part of his revenues was distributed in alms: the care of distributive justice: but from wherever he departed, he ordered the debts faithfully to be discharged, contracted by his men or for him; and the damage, if any had arisen to anyone from himself or them, to be repaired. Whoever should estimate his works, would have judged them to be of a Prince twice as wealthy as he himself was. He strove also to bring it about that he should be burdensome to no neighbor or poor man in his possessions: hence no complaints of anyone about him, but all loved him equally and venerated him, as a father and lord; and prayed God for his salvation.

[7] He was a virgin, not only in body, but also whole in mind: but as he brought forth nothing from his mouth, the chastity of his manners. which even lightly opposed honesty, so neither did he allow it to be said by others; but he loved before the rest those whose manners chastity commended; vehemently abhorring the lustful, and gravely chastising those caught. Hence he by no means allowed that any of his domestics should have a concubine joined to him: indeed for several years he severely took care, that no harlot should set foot in his house: but this rigor he afterward somewhat relaxed, to avert graver sins. But he solicitously guarded the noble youths, and whatever other young men of his household, that at least until the twentieth year of age they should keep continence. But he himself removed from himself all delights of smell or touch, and whatever could provoke to lust, in respect of which he judged the other vices light.

NOTES, D. P.

the vow of Religion, by which he was bound to the Equestrian Order of Avis. But this man's fifth son is called the holy Infant, namely Alfonso being passed over, who was buried at ten years old, his father still living; but the other five are reckoned in this order. Edward, his father's successor in the kingdom; Peter, surnamed "of the seven parts of the world," on account of Asia and Europe traversed, of whom a particular History is current; Henry, Master of the Knights of the Order of Christ, who opened the navigation to the islands situated toward the East; John, Master of the Order of St. James in Portugal, from whom through a woman descends the Royal family of Spain; and finally Ferdinand, of whom we treat here.

* nay, the fourth

CHAPTER II.

Other virtues of the holy Infant; domestic discipline, the expedition undertaken into Africa.

[8] Since he embraced all his neighbors with great charity, and was most far from envy, he never coveted another's goods; He refuses to enrich himself or others by confiscations, and lived content with his revenues, although slender: nor in that slenderness did he suffer any trouble, except that he could not succor the poor according to his wish. It happened once that the goods of certain men, assigned to the fisc for their demerits, the King wished to transfer to him; but he never wished to accept them, lest he should in any way share in another's loss. But if he was asked to intercede for any of his men, to obtain similar goods, either he excused himself, nor even burdensome in exacting debts owed to him, or deferred so long until the occasion had passed. He never sought for anyone any office or benefice, for which he knew him to be less worthy, or his person little to suit the public good. He compelled no one to marriage, much less craftily induced. The favors done to the well-deserving he so gladly received, as if they had been conferred on his own domestics. Sometimes it happened that he asked something of the King: who if he answered that he had destined it for some other good man, "I give," he said, "my Lord, such great thanks to you for him, as if you had given me what I desired."

[9] He never interceded for doing justice in those cases, where another's right was concerned: but modest; and even those revenues which were assigned to him, he sought back from the King and his brother Princes only with the greatest modesty and submission: awaiting the opportunities of times, in which he should be neither troublesome nor inconvenient. But if anyone interceded in his requests, his modesty and sweet speech, effective for moving the souls of the Nobles whither he aimed, contended for him. He solicitously ordered the stipends to be paid to his domestics, lest he should give anyone any occasion of complaining: but he took care that many Sacrifices be offered and prayers made for veterans, the sick, captives, and those in peril by land and sea. His offenses he easily and from the heart remitted. and inclined to the works of both kinds of mercy. Attentive to procuring the salvation of souls and of the infidels, he converted many of the Jews and Moors, by the breathing of God's grace, and held the converted excellently as his own. As much as in him lay he exercised the works of corporal and spiritual mercy: and so pleased himself in them, that before them he disdained whatever worldly delights.

[10] Of singular consideration too is the abstinence of this holy Infant, so great, Severe toward his own body, that almost the whole year seemed a continual fast; by which he chastised the vice of gluttony and withdrew comforts from his body; watching much, sleeping hard, rising at midnight for the Office of Matins. He used bread and water alone on all Saturdays, and the three days preceding Easter, when also he persisted in the church before the Most Holy Sacrament until the day of the holy Resurrection. he fasted frequently, both before the feasts of the Saints, By a similar rite he observed the Vigils of the Sunday and Marian feasts: as also of SS. Vincent, George, James, Anthony, Mary Magdalen, the Finding of the Cross, the Birth of the Baptist, of each of the Apostles, of Michael in September, and of All Saints, besides the times of Advent and Lent. Similarly the day before the conversion of St. Paul, and of SS. Blasius, Anne, Lucy, Apollonia, Louis King of France, Edward King of England; likewise of Dominic, Francis, the Exaltation of the Cross in September, and at the anniversaries of his parents. and of the Chains of St. Peter, when also he passed the whole night sleepless. It was also his custom, to premise a fast to the anniversaries of the King and Queen, his parents, and to pass those days solitary in his chamber.

[11] Nor only in food was he abstemious and in sleep, Moderation of dress but also in clothing and the adornment of his body he held the utmost moderation; nor did he allow that the games and feasts of his house should fall on days which the Church keeps more solemn to God and the Saints. He took care, lest by any chance he should show himself moved by anger, by words or shouting: but quietly and without choler he chastised offenders: but he reproved no one publicly, unless so grave a case occurred, that there was no place for dissimulation and delay. and of speech: But the penalties usual with him were these: boys were punished with rods and slaps, men of middling condition, with deprivation of wine or with prison; more distinguished persons by subtraction of stipend or relegation from the household; ecclesiastics by subtraction of the daily allowance, the chastisement of faults, and of the customary distributions in the chapel. Modest in speech, gentle in his answers, amiable in conversation, he was never heard to contend in words: but he gladly heard others, and easily preferred their opinions to his own. Of no one did he speak ill, the avoidance of detraction and of swearing. much abhorring the vice of detraction, especially concerning honored persons. He patiently bore with the simpler; he never swore by demon or devil, nor by the name of God or any other thing whatever: nor could anything in the world so much in this regard, as to hinder his good habit even in the least.

[12] Idleness in Ferdinand had no place or a very rare one, likewise of idleness, since he was in all his actions very diligent and assiduous; nor did he let any of his time go by, in which he was not occupied either in dispatching business, or in some useful conversation or reading. But if anything was given to honest recreation, for the solace of the body, by walking or hunting; that he employed not so much for his own as for his domestics' sake. and of distraction amid sacred things To each action he dedicated a fitting time, that the things of the world might not disturb those that are God's, nor these hinder those, except precisely in case of necessity. And so when he was in church, he admitted no mention of any secular business: for this he judged to be against all decorum: but as soon as he had withdrawn to the place of the curtain, he attended to vocal prayer, to be made from memory or from a book, or with intent ear took in those things which were sung and recited; exceedingly solicitous lest anything be committed by anyone against the sacred rites, of which he was at once most knowing and most observant. For he had summoned from the Salisbury church a Master of his chapel, The order of the chapel, on whom it lay to take care that according to that use all the offices should be performed in the most ordered manner.

[13] His chapel was handsomely and according to the seasons adorned, and in it daily a Mass was sung, under which two others private were read, according to the prescription of a book ordered for this. From a similar book the master of the choir knew, the frequency of sermons, when it was to be sung without organs or with them, chorally or figurally; and in the same manner the Steward of the Prince, and his Preacher held days described for themselves, the latter of sermons to be made, the former of fasts to be observed. But a sermon in the chapel was made on all festive days, whose number the four Doctors of the Church increased. But on the Sundays of Advent and Lent, The daily recitation of the divine Office. as also on the Nativity of the Lord and Ash Wednesday and Maundy Thursday, it was said twice, before and after the meal. On all days too which were of precept celebrated, Vespers were made; but on others, on which for hearing the divine offices one did not go to church, the Infant recited in his chamber all the canonical Hours, each at its own time, in a manner and posture most decent, and in a place fittingly adorned with curtains, tapestries, and cushions, of that color which the season required: nor was there lacking there an altar, furnished with an image of the Virgin of sorrows. The aforesaid Hours his Secretary recited with him, exceedingly solicitous lest he err anywhere: it was his office to order the books, whence anything was to be read: and to this end the Prince had a library excellently furnished with Ecclesiastical writers.

[14] At the death of the great King John, this his son by hereditary right obtained no estate, except Salvaterra surnamed "of the Magi," and by a beneficiary title for life Atouguia de Balea, with a certain annual revenue. Endowed with a slender revenue by his father, But when King Edward, the holy Infant's brother, had succeeded to the kingdom; and about the same time the great Master of the Order of Avis had departed from life; the King conferred that Mastership on his brother, not a little reluctant, because he was unwilling to become more opulent from the goods of the Church. But the Pope dispensing for this, that office had to be undertaken, by his brother he is created Master of Avis, just as his brothers too, though seculars, obtained Masterships; Henry indeed, of the Order called of Christ; but the Infant John, of St. James. But Ferdinand considered, how great a burden the King his brother bore, in sustaining so many and such brothers; but on the other hand the immense cares, which accompany an administration of this kind, rather than a mastership: nor was he forgetful of that of the Apostle, in the second to Timothy, chapter two; "No man being a soldier to God entangles himself with secular business." but exceedingly unwilling and with scruple: But for dispelling the scruple thus arisen the good intention of service, to be rendered to the King his brother and his brothers, did not suffice; since he understood how often his men sinned on occasion of taking, by custom of the kingdom, lodgings, when he had to set out somewhere: and that, not even increased by that office, he could not commodiously enough pay to all his men the stipends owed, much less worthily reward the well-deserving.

[15] He resolved therefore, all things being dismissed, to betake himself to England, where by his kinsman the King he was to be received honorably (as had already been agreed between them) and would be burdensome to no one, in that manner of life which he intended to lead there; since, by the custom of the region, no great expenses were to be made on servants. But to him seeking license to carry this out, and therefore he wishes to withdraw to England,

the King his brother answered, that this could by no means be permitted by him, because he had need of him for a certain most arduous business. At the same time there came into Portugal, sent by Eugene IV, a Legate, Friar Gomez Abbot of Florence, about to offer Ferdinand the Cardinalitial dignity: and he refuses to be made a Cardinal: which he himself was unwilling to accept, saying that he was unwilling to burden his conscience with so great a load. But King Edward, that he might not dismiss him from himself, excused himself, that he had already before denied him the faculty of withdrawing to England for several causes; namely because the Count of Arraiolos his cousin asked that the faculty be indulged him, of going into Castile, with a troop of soldiers, to aid the King of Castile, wishing to claim Granada by arms. But the King denies the faculty of departing, Similarly the Count of Ourém too wished to withdraw outside the kingdom, to enter into possession of certain estates falling to him abroad. Indeed his sister too the Duchess of Burgundy asked that the Infant Henry be sent to her in Flanders, both to prosecute with her husband the French war, and to send with him to the expedition of Jerusalem.

[16] So many heads therefore of the royal family being about to set out abroad, King Edward denied that he could allow himself, and to the expedition decreed into Africa to deprive the kingdom of such and so necessary a leader. But that he might at once cut off for all the occasion of too importunately soliciting their departure, he resolved to occupy them otherwise, to the honor of God and the greater advantage of his kingdom. For he decreed that an expedition was to be undertaken for seeking Tangier, an African city which the Moors held, fourteen thousand armed men being chosen for it, over whom should preside as leaders his brothers the Infants, D. Henry and D. Ferdinand, with the Count of Arraiolos: he sets him with his brother Henry over it: but there were to be under their command ten thousand foot, four thousand horse. They indeed were not ignorant that an altogether arduous thing was undertaken; both on account of the paucity of soldiers, compared to the almost infinite number of adversaries; and on account of the length of the expedition, through which it would not be permitted to provide for the necessities arising as quickly as was needful: yet not daring to oppose themselves to the determined Royal will, all eagerly received the command.

[17] Furthermore, as they were preparing themselves, Ferdinand came to Lisbon, where the King stayed, he asks that first the stipends be paid to his servants, and thus spoke to him. "You know, my Lord, how strictly we are bound to pay our servants the wage of the service and labor spent on us: but I feel myself burdened with many and those good things, nor do I find what to repay to the poor little ones, in compensation for such faithful service. Let your Highness therefore succor me, whom I ask that, receiving from me my estate, that small one which by your benefit I hold, and the furniture with the vessels, you make a price from these sold, offering for that purpose his estates and furniture: whence to these my debtors at least in part satisfaction may be made." To whom the King: "Indeed for this love of yours and notable goodness I am much obliged to you, nor will I do anything more gladly, than fulfill your most just petition; yet the reason of the present straits, by which we are now burdened, does not allow it: but I hope, that with God's good help, you will return safe and victor into the kingdom; and then you will see, what thanks and how great increases I destine for you. Yet lest you complain that your conscience is burdened; advised to make a testament, it pleases me to receive all your men into my service, on exactly the same condition as if they had served me their whole life. I wish moreover that you make a testament, for executing which if anything be lacking, I will supply from my own. I order therefore that you lay aside all care from your mind, because I take it upon myself: but I hope that you will happily return, and whatever you now command by testament you will complete by yourself, as you will wish and as your conscience will dictate to you." This said he gave him a credential schedule, signed with his own hand: by which the King constituted himself heir of D. Ferdinand himself, with the obligation of paying all his debts.

[18] He wrote therefore at once, the Saint, to the judges and prefects of whatever places, he orders all damages inflicted by his men to be repaired, through which he had had to pass or hereafter should; that whoever, approaching them, should show that he had received some damage from him and his men, they should immediately make it good; at the same time too he asked that there be pardoned him for the love of God whatever injury or loss thus received, which could not be repaired. He then visited several pious places at Lisbon; and sent various offerings and alms everywhere for obtaining divine help. Finally in the monastery of the Preachers, within the chapel of St. Mary of the Stair, receiving absolution with plenary Indulgence of sins, and the Cross being taken up he betakes himself to the fleet. granted to those taking the Cross, through the hands of Fr. Master Aegidius Mendez his Confessor, he took the Communion of the Lord's Body: and a procession being ordered they went to the army, which stood on the shore near Lisbon, awaiting a commodious weather for the fleet to sail.

NOTES, D. P.

CHAPTER III.

The unhappy outcome of the Tangier expedition. The Christians' remains, Ceuta being agreed upon for ransom, Ferdinand being given as hostage.

[19] The Infant and all who were to embark being signed with the Cross, and the anniversary of King John being celebrated, on the 14th of August, which precedes the feast of the Virgin Mother of God Assumed into heaven; The fleet having sailed on the 14th of August, with the customary procession for obtaining victory, wont to be instituted on such occasions, the fleet sailed from the shore of Lisbon: yet it did not withdraw farther, but immediately stood at anchor, both by reason of the feast, to be celebrated the next day, and that space might be given to the Princes to bid farewell to the King their brother and the Queen. As Ferdinand was doing this there came upon him a grave abscess with fever, whose rigor dissimulating, Ferdinand conceals his fever and embarks on the 22nd, in the year 1437, lest any hindrance thence be offered to the sacred expedition, he magnanimously embarked; the ships likewise set sail on Thursday the 22nd of August 1437, carrying not more than seven thousand fighters: because for transmitting a greater number there were lacking in the kingdom vessels, nor could they be summoned from abroad, occupied elsewhere, on occasion of the wars which were then being waged. On the following Tuesday all happily arrived at Ceuta: except that to the Saint the torments so increased from the aforesaid imposthume, sick he arrives at Ceuta, that he was compelled to lie abed and was reckoned to be in peril of life, until the ripe pus burst forth.

[20] From Ceuta the Infant Henry departed on Monday, the 9th of September, with five thousand fighters, leaving two thousand for the guard of the fleet. But the holy Infant boarded the triremes, he sails to Tangier on the 9th of September, and so both together came upon the city of Tangier by land and sea on Friday. And he indeed remained thus that day, while his brother measured out the place for the camp: but the following day he joined himself to him; and guarded the station assigned to him with great care, though not without great pains, which the still open ulcer caused, and he could scarcely hold himself upon his horse. Yet from no labor did he withdraw himself, he pitches camp amid the gravest pains, present everywhere for surrounding the camp with stakes, and animating the leaders and soldiers by his example; whence it happened that he never returned to his tent without fever. He indeed was not present at the first encounter, in which the Christians, having advanced on land, made an assault on the city, because he had been ordered to remain in the triremes: but afterward he sufficiently proved the generosity of his spirit, present at no battle thereafter; and first when on the said Monday those equipped with ladders and wall-engines again approached the city, and the Moors going out to meet them seemed to wish to resist but were forced to leave the field to those victors. The same was done on Tuesday, although the Barbarians sallied out in greater number: he resists the barbarians, three times sallying from the besieged city; nor thereafter either were more ever able to resist ours, but with many of their own lost were turned to flight: about to lose more had not the night thereafter prohibited pursuit. Finally on Thursday, although the Barbarians had now advanced to forty thousand horse, a hundred thousand foot, they did not hesitate to go out to meet them; and bravely

resisting they scattered them: and having pursued them for two leagues, a great slaughter of them being made, they gloriously returned to their camp, bringing back the sacred Relics which they had carried out with them at about the third hour of the night: but on the following day they again assaulted the city.

[21] On the Wednesday of the following week, again coming forth from the camp, ours saw coming against them the King of Fez with his leader Lazaraquius, and with as great an army of his nation as he could draw together from all Mauretania, to about ninety-six thousand horse, six hundred thousand foot: by whose so great number when the Christians saw themselves unequal, [in the camp at last besieged he strenuously defends himself, unequal though to the multitude.] in the best order they betook themselves to their camp, ready to sustain all the force within the fortification. Although the whole fortification was nothing other than a modest rampart of earth, yet for four hours they so defended it, that the enemy was compelled to withdraw from it. But resting that night, they returned to assault the camp on Thursday, with greater impetus, when for five hours the contest held; the burden being especially sustained by the holy Infant, because upon his station the greater force of the enemy had pressed.

[22] But then the Christians considering, how, besieged on all sides and now reduced to the paucity of three thousand, there was for them no place of escaping, nor mode of resisting the almost innumerable multitude; Therefore Ceuta being offered, the Christians seek a safe retreat, moreover the deserted situation of the region, and the scarcity of the provisions now failing in the camp; they judged it necessary through legates to treat with the Barbarians, and to promise them the restitution of Ceuta, on this condition, that they themselves be permitted to return safe to their ships. But they, thinking that they held a certain victory over us, wished to try another conflict, and laying hands on the legates detained them until they had seen the outcome of the matter. And Friday indeed they gave to rest: but on Saturday very early in the morning, ready for battle, they made an irruption into the camp, as obstinate as they could: but although for whole six hours the conflict lasted, yet God infused so much strength into the Christians, that, a huge slaughter of the Moors being made, they took from them the hope of conquering in open warfare. Therefore turned to frauds, they feigned that they wished to acquiesce in the agreement proposed through the legates, and bravely sustain a new assault on the camp; hoping, that meanwhile while there was going back and forth and treating, or while the Christians betook themselves to the ships, an assault being made on them unawares, they could easily deceive and utterly destroy them.

[23] They demanded therefore, that one of the two Infants be handed over to them as hostage, until Ceuta should be returned; but in turn Zalabanzala, Lord of Tangier and Arzila, should give his firstborn to the Christians, as a pledge of safe retreat. the barbarians treating deceitfully, The holy Prince was not ignorant, to how great labors and dangers he was to be exposed among an unfaithful and barbarous nation: yet he, who had always been ready to give even his life for his companions, offered himself of his own accord: and was handed over on the 16th of October, Wednesday evening, when Zalabanzala placed him on a horse hired for that purpose. There went with him, for honor's and service's sake, for Ceuta they hand over Ferdinand as hostage on the 16th of October, Rodericus Stephanius his foster-father, Fr. Aegidius Mendius his Confessor, Joannes Rodericius his foster-brother, Joannes Alvarius the Secretary, Master Martinus the Prince's Physician, Ferdinandus Aegidii his wardrobe-keeper, and Joannes Vasius prefect of the kitchen. For the son of Zalabanzala too there went as hostages Arias Acunia, Joannes Gomesii de Abellar, Petrus Ataidius, noble Knights of his house, with ten companions: and Gometius a Silva Commander of Nudar. All these preceded the Infant on foot, as also Rudericus Gometii de Silva, the first Field-marshal, one of the aforesaid legates, sent for this, that he might receive the son of Zalabanzala, and lead him to the ships, to be there retained, until all were brought back safe into them: and as no one besides the Infant, so neither besides Zalabanzala did anyone ride on horseback: and with him there went a certain Christian, named Michael, who at the handing over of the Infant had been employed as interpreter.

[24] It was night, when Zalabanzala with the Infant approached the city: but unwilling to enter it he halted at the gates of the palace, until his son had been brought there, whom he handed over to Rudericus Gomezius de Silva, and in turn receive as hostage the son of Zalabanzala, and waited until the messenger should return about his reception into the ships. Then a lodging was assigned to the Infant with his men, in a certain house or tower, above the gate which leads from the palace into the city, where they were indeed very well guarded, but very ill provided as to food. Then on Thursday very early in the morning the legates were released, whom thus far the Moors had detained; namely Don Ferdinand Menesius, Joannes Ferdinandi de Arca, Ferdinandus de Andrade, and the snares being eluded they betake themselves to the ships. Rudericus Gomez de Silva the greater Field-prefect, and were sent back to the camp. Meanwhile the Infant Henry learned, that the Moors had resolved to attack him if he should go out from the camp in sight of the city: but he ordered it to be opened on that side which was turned away, where they looked toward the sea; and so he betook himself with impunity, though the Moors snarled: who nevertheless, an assault being made on those withdrawing, killed from the rear line fifty or sixty men.

[25] On the following Sunday, the feast of St. Irene and no other day, the whole fleet sailed, without any message about that matter sent to the Infant: which made him think The Lord Infant understanding nothing about his brother, that his brother Henry had fallen, especially when he understood the slaughter inflicted by the Moors on the last line of those departing: for he could scarcely persuade himself, that his brother, if he lived, would withdraw without admonishing him. He grieved therefore and said, "Why did I offer myself as hostage, if so principal a person, and for whom even I would have wished to lay down my life, is not saved?" He then thought that he could not have fallen unaccompanied, and so that many others too of the Nobles had perished, with irreparable damage to the whole kingdom. Nor did he doubt that the King would gladly have given Ceuta for saving them, or even something better; and would grieve inconsolably over a loss of this kind. In so great mourning there was no one who might lighten his grief: but all rather showed themselves sharers of it. he mourns him as dead; Meanwhile the Moors sent two Christians, who might learn whether among the dead was the Infant Henry, or anyone of greater note: who, when they had inspected one hundred sixty-three corpses, reported all to be of the lowest note and of the foot soldiery.

[26] On Friday Zalabanzala sent men, who might lead over the Infant to Arzila, to be led over to Arzila and gave him a good horse for this: to the rest were brought pack-horses, almost killed with hunger and thirst in the camp, and wholly unfit for the labor of the journey. But they set the Infant with his men before the gate of the city, as a spectacle for the innumerable Moorish multitude, returning that way to their own homes, and running up as if to gain Indulgences. Everyone afflicted them with some injury by cursing or mocking, he is exposed to mockery. some even by throwing stones: until Zalabanzala arrived, after the two hours during which they had thus stood, and drove all before him the whole day, until they came to Arzila. The journey was difficult for them, on account of the multitude of men, sheep and camels meeting and crossing them, through whom passage was scarcely given, so that often they had to turn aside from the road: but wherever they came, they were burdened with many reproaches. One league before they reached Arzila, they found very many boys awaiting them on the road; and when they approached more, men too came out to meet them, but few; but near the city there stood very many women, with the native Christians and Genoese Merchants, among whom also some Castilians.

[27] And the Moors indeed all gave great signs of joy, every age and sex pouring out to meet them, with sistrums and drums, singing and dancing: but yet they pressed a deep grief in their heart, because there was there no man or woman, who did not mourn someone dead in the conflicts, a father, husband, brother, or son. But the wounded were almost infinite: for the Infant testified, that there had been brought to the battle from the royal armory, and almost all discharged against the enemy, three hundred thousand arrows; besides those which each had carried with him. Truly if the Moors slain in battle could not be numbered, much less the wounded. Indeed the Author of this Chronicle testifies, that at Fez he heard a Jewish Surgeon affirming, that from those alone who were carried wounded to Fez, he himself had extracted more than three thousand arrows. Wherefore all universally grieved, that the Infant Henry with his army had escaped their hands, by which they believed them held bound, but mourning over the innumerable slaughter of their own. and they wished to avenge the damages received. But especially Zalabanzala was tortured, on account of his firstborn son, whom they did not hope ever to recover without the greatest labor. Led into the city, they were placed in a solitary place, and diligently guarded, not so much by the harshness of prison as by the sagacity of eyes: but the Infant great grief held, because he did not know, whether his brother Henry lived or had died. Zalabanzala therefore gave him a messenger, who might carry his letter to Ceuta, to learn the truth of the matter; and this man departed from Arzila on the 22nd of October.

NOTES, D. P.

having suffered: which reading also pleased Vossius for the other edition of Prudentius, if he had had life for it, as he himself wrote to me.

CHAPTER IV.

The Portuguese, freed from danger, deny that Ceuta is to be returned to the Moors, who did not keep the agreements: the Lord of Arzila refuses a ransom for the Infant.

[28] When the Infant Henry betook himself, as has been said above, Henry having returned to Ceuta with his troops, the Moors truly did not stand by the agreed pacts. But daily they assaulted those about to withdraw, so that they could not enter their ships, continually throwing arrows and stones, with which they killed some, wounded more: yet the Christians did not dare to join battle, because through the former conflicts they were greatly exhausted in strength; indeed they could not even prevent the same barbarians from reducing into captivity many of the wounded Christians who were being carried to the ships. But after the Infant had received his men, as he could, against the will of the Moors, having suffered many things from the Moors against the treaty, who from the rearmost column had slain sixty men; he ordered the ships to sail from the shore: which done the Moors recognized that their snares had been in vain, and that they could do little harm to those whom the merciful God guarded. But soon the Count of Arraiolos, with the Bishop of Évora and most of the other leaders, set sail for Portugal: but Henry proceeded to Ceuta; resolved not to depart thence, before he had the whole business of his brother's liberation settled. And he arrived there on Monday, but immediately fell into illness, doubtless from the excessive labor endured amid arms and in the camp, perhaps even more from grief at his brother left in captivity; and was compelled to lie abed.

[29] On the following Wednesday, the Infant John arrived at the same place, with reinforcements collected among the Algarve people: and both Princes had entered upon a plan, but animated by the arrival of his brother John, that John should immediately proceed to the port of Arzila with the son of Zalabanzala; and have it announced to him, that, since the Moors had broken the faith given to the Christians, it ought to be enough for him, the Infant being returned, to receive his son: but if not, let him know that he was present, about to free his brother by arms with the best right. This being so resolved, the Infant John came to Arzila on the 29th of October, with the son of Zalabanzala and some Moors whom Henry had led away with him from the camp, because they had come there to take spoils. But before any conversation could be entered upon, there came upon the Christians so great a storm, that, the anchors being raised, they were compelled to seek the Algarve, he denies that he will hand Ceuta over to the faithless; not without danger to their lives, leading with them the son of Zalabanzala with the aforesaid Moors. After this the messenger returned from Ceuta, with the answers of the Infant Henry, to Ferdinand, indicators of the plan adopted, and found him lying abed: for in all the seven months during which he was at Arzila, he experienced so many infirmities, that he could no longer stand on his feet. Yet he bore all things equanimously; and for that cause did not omit, not even on one day, to recite the canonical Hours, and offers an exchange of hostages. with that devotion which he was wont: passing that time in fasting and prayer, and works of mercy toward the Christian captives found there; some of whom he redeemed, but to all the rest he daily sent food, and most of them too he secretly clothed through the merchants: for by himself he did not dare to do it.

[30] Zalabanzala complains that he is deceived: Furthermore Zalabanzala, seeing that the Infant John had withdrawn with the ships, came to Ferdinand, bringing the instrument of the contract concerning the return of Ceuta on the part of the Christians, signed by both Infants, the Count of Arraiolos, the Bishop of Évora, and also by the Marshal of the kingdom, the major Captain, and other Nobles; but on the part of the Moors by Lazaraquius the major Captain of the King of Fez; Manzo-Beuria his brother, Lord of Belez; Zalabanzala, Lord of Tangier and Arzila; Zaëne, Lord of Mequinez and Calleji; and also by the Cadis and Faquis, Abedella, Abeducius and Mahomet, and others. But Zalabanzala said to the Infant: "Send a copy of these pacts to the King of Portugal, your brother: The Infant's confessor dies, and write to him, that he keep faith with me of those things which you promised, and for which they gave you as hostage. For I never broke faith given to any Christian, and this they will testify who once agreed upon anything with me. You know how much I did to complete that treaty: and that you Christians sustained no damage or inconvenience from me (for which the King of yours too wrote me thanksgivings), and that I permitted you to send your letters through a Jewish interpreter." In these days fell into the sickbed Master Fr. Aegidius Mendez, another sick man is exchanged with a sound one. the Infant's Confessor: and there he was buried in the church of the Christian merchants; thence his body was carried to Ceuta by the mandate of D. the Infant, and thence to Portugal. Likewise there fell ill the Infant's foster-father: whom when he wished to send back to Portugal, Zalabanzala was unwilling to acquiesce, until his son, Petrus Rodericii, gave himself as hostage for him.

[31] At which time Edward King of Portugal understood the peril in which his brothers and citizens were placed, surrounded by so great a multitude of Moors; In the Cortes of the kingdom it is decreed that Ceuta is not to be returned, he conceived in his mind that grief which was fitting in the sight of so great a loss. But when he learned in what manner the free men had been dismissed, at first he was of the opinion that Ceuta should be returned to the barbarians: yet over it he ordered the Cortes of the Kingdom to be suddenly convoked, in which it was decreed, that Ceuta was not to be returned; but it was to be labored, that the Infant Ferdinand be freed by arms or by money. Wherefore the King wrote to D. Henry, that he should return: who betook himself to the Algarve, but the Infant is to be recovered by arms or by price. whence he could more readily attend to treating his brother's liberation. Then the King committed to him the governance of Ceuta, which he had held before he moved toward Tangier: but he was unwilling to accept it, lest it should be said that he himself hindered the return of the place for the sake of his own advantage. But although this was done by the common counsel of the Estates of the kingdom, and the holy Infant had written for hastening his liberation, as best he could; nevertheless Zalabanzala was irritated on account of the delay in completing the promise; [The barbarian, irritated by the delay, threatens to hand him over to the King of Fez.] and ordered it to be said to Ferdinand, that he should signify to the King his brother, that he should complete the promised return of Ceuta to him, and free him without delay; but if not, it would be that he would send him to the King of Fez as he was obligated, as to the Prince of the Moorish nation; from whom the King could then receive him, under that condition which he had agreed.

[32] All these things D. the Infant wrote to the King and to Queen Eleonora and to his Brothers: The Infant answers that the Portuguese are not bound by the pacts, and because he had received some letters from the Infant Henry, by which it was demonstrated that it was not just that the contract entered into with the Moors should be kept; he sent back the same interpreter to Zalabanzala, who should say: "You know how great force necessity has, and how of no value is whatever is violently extorted. Since therefore it is clear to all, what extreme peril constrained us in the camp; it appears that the promise was by no means free. Add that faith is not to be kept to him who first violated it: especially since my brother Henry could not return Ceuta, without the mandate and consent of the King and our Lord. extorted by force, Yet let us grant that my King wishes to give you Ceuta, what will it profit you, when you yourself say that you will immediately hand it over to the Moorish nation to be destroyed. Moreover my brother alleges other reasons, namely that you first violated the pacts, by not descending from the mountains, whence the King of Fez with the leaders of his troops hindered the Christians from being able to betake themselves to the ships by a direct road along the city; and violated by the Moors, repeatedly assaulting them with crossbows and stone-throwers, even making captive the wounded who were sent to the ships. Finally that you yourself resolved to kill or capture all, if they had kept their way through the slopes of the city: of which thing the Christians being warned, opened for themselves a safer way, and by the grace of God returned to their ships against your will; and, an assault being made on the rear column, not without some slaughter. Which since they are so, and plainly conformable to truth; and since I see that this counsel has been confirmed in Portugal; it seems to me expedient, but for himself he offers a ransom. that you treat on another condition with my Lord the King, by receiving for me some price, and receiving your son, with the Moors who are there. Moreover that there be given to you the faculty of recovering from the city of Ceuta all the treasures, which you left hidden there, when my father and lord King John snatched it from you, whose soul may God have."

[33] To these Zalabanzala answered: That since the Christians of their own will had entered into such necessity, Zalabanzala tries to refute the objections, they were bound to keep the pacts; and since the King and his army were one thing, he was obligated to hold whatever his Princes had promised. But as for what was said, that the Moors had made captive some of the wounded, that could not be turned to his fault, since they were not handed over to his power, that of

them he could render account; but to others, who were not under his power, and whom he was forced to suffer. As for the Moors who ran out against the rearmost column; they were foreigners, whom he himself could not restrain: that nothing certainly was done by the common counsel of the nation appeared even from this, that none of the soldiers of heavier armor were among them, no leader or captain: but that these had received more damage from the Christians, than these from them. Finally that the snares were fictitious, which they complained had been set for them, if they had wished to return through the slopes of the city: that it was his own city, to which if they had approached, trusting themselves to his faith, he would not, even for the whole world, suffer them to be deceived. All these reasons therefore were brought forward without proof. But as for the Christians being killed some in the retreat, that they had well deserved it, because they had led away captive Moors, who had approached safely to take spoils: but if perhaps they should contend that those were lawfully led away, that at least could not be said of his own retainer likewise led away.

[34] [and denies that, his good name among the Moors being safe, he can receive a price,] Concerning receiving any price whatever, it ought not to be treated with him, to whom nothing was more precious than his good fame, without doubt to perish among the Moors, if he did not urge the restitution of Ceuta. For since it was said by the greater part of his nation, that he had sold the city to King John; if he now permitted it in the power of the Christians, the first fault falsely imputed to him, would be confirmed before all by the truer second, which would prove much greater malice. But if he were now certain that Ceuta would be returned to him, he would have small regard for his son, besides whom he had several others equally beloved: nor indeed did he desperately love those, of whom he had already had the throat of one cut. but altogether demands that Ceuta be returned. That he had courage enough to make Kings, kill them, and depose them. Let therefore the King his brother see what he did: he himself cared for nothing else, than to recover Ceuta. To these reasons, although false, the holy Infant dared to reply nothing, who was wholly in his power.

[35] But it was clear that all these things were said by him, to cover his fraud and color his lies: since the King to that contract was not bound further than he wished. The Author shows that his pretexts are false: But as for what he said, that the wounded had been pledged, that was done by no right: especially since the Moors had agreed to permit them a safe departure, by whatever way they had wished: for if he saw that that people would not be in his power, why did he bid the Christians be secure about it? For he had said that his treaty with them was firm, and that he was about to lead them all away thence immediately. But not those alone fought, but they also had mingled with them the soldiers of Zalabanzala himself, who had advanced from the city and returned into it. Hence it is clearly demonstrated, that he himself consented to violating the pacts, acting against his obligation, and not making a place for safe retreat, as the Christians demanded; whom however, however little withdrawing from the camp, the Moors did not hesitate to make captive. and proves that the Moor acted against faith. Zalabanzala knew too that his soldiers had been joined to the people of Fez, of Tafilet and the Alarvi, coming after the contract to assault the camp, and among them two hundred mail-clad: who never ceased to harass the Christians, until they had betaken themselves to the ships. Finally, as for what he pretended, that the Infant Henry had led away the Moors who had gone out to take spoils, it was not so: for if the Infant had given them security for this, doubtless he would also have furnished it: but their own greed had blinded them, so that they sought no safe passage; because they had not persuaded themselves that it could be, that they should be led away by the Christians, sufficiently solicitous for themselves.

[36] Furthermore the holy Infant, considering that it was resolved by Zalabanzala to send him to Fez (unless from Portugal a prompt redemption should come) where he was to be handed over into the power of Lazaraquius, than whom none was more cruel in all the nation; Lest the Infant be led away to Fez, considering also the infirmity of his flesh, and the delicate complexion of his body amid so many diseases; fearing finally the gravest labors, thenceforth to be sustained by him; by many reasons asked the King to hasten some means of freeing him, and to have mercy on his most afflicted life, while in Portugal there is slow deliberation, which he wished to have laid down in the defense of the camp. But so slow an answer came to these, as if a lawsuit had to be contested through the ministry of procurators. Therefore to hasten the business, he again wrote to the King, that he should send him a certain apparatus; by means of which and with God's good help, they hoped to be able to escape thence, and betake themselves toward the sea, with all his men, thus about to obtain liberty without price: for he would never commit it, that he should be content to escape alone, his companions being left in captivity, for which some means had been suggested to him by the Infant Henry.

[37] At the same time Orlandus de Villa-regali, Captain of Ceuta, the Governor of Ceuta labors in vain sent his brother Sancius to the Lord of Belez, brother of Lazaraquius, that he might persuade him to hand over the Infant to be redeemed by money, promising an ample reward for such service: but he, under the appearance of cooperating to that end, was contriving to draw Sancius himself into his power; who, perceiving this by God's favor, skillfully escaped the present danger. The King of Castile too treated of sending legates to Zalabanzala, and the King of Castile, that he should allow the Infant to be redeemed by price; on this condition, that the King should allow the Moorish merchants, whence to Zalabanzala himself came his chief revenue, to freely exercise their commerce throughout all Castile. He understanding these things, signified everything to Lazaraquius: who sent him Ocalia, Audacomus, and Tarraxayus, writing that he should send him the Infant with his companions: for as long as he was near the sea, the barbarian breaking faith. the Christians would never cease to labor for freeing him. From this time therefore the Saint began to be most closely guarded: and although meanwhile the barbarian often by written letters assured him that he would never dismiss him from himself, those very letters he was nevertheless obliged to send to Fez. But meanwhile there arrived at Arzila Ferdinandus de Andrade, bringing from the King a letter, by which he wrote that concerning his brother's designed flight he had instituted deliberation with those who loved him most; whose counsel was all, that he should not think of so dangerous a thing.

NOTES, D. P.

CHAPTER V.

The holy Infant is led over from Arzila to Fez with his companions; and for the first five months is treated inclemently.

[38] On the 25th of May, and the same a Sunday, at the time of Matins, this Lord was led away from Arzila to Fez, The Infant led away from Arzila on the 25th of May 1438 with 10 companions, together with his men; namely Petrus Vaz, Chaplain; Joannes Rodericius, major Chamberlain; Joannes Alvarez, Secretary; Master Martinus, Physician; Ferdinandus Aegidii, Keeper of garments; Joannes Laurentii, the Quartermaster; Joannes de Luna, Baker; Christophorus de Luvica, a German secretary; and Master Joseph the Jew, Surgeon, who had from Zalabanzala a diploma of safe-conduct for returning. Four nobles who remained as hostages for his son, and Petrus Ruiz the foster-brother of D. the Infant, were detained at Arzila, because Zalabanzala by no means wished to dismiss them: who ordered it to be said to the Prince, that if the King of Portugal would clearly determine concerning his business, he could be certain that he himself would be led back by him on the same horse on which he was now carried away: he is despoiled of his furniture against faith: moreover he indulged him, that he should take as much money as he wished, secure that nothing would be snatched from him, concerning which he would write to Fez. This thing gave the Infant confidence to take away the furniture which he had, with some other things, very opportune for his use: which however all were snatched from him. His domestics they placed upon pack-animals, but the Infant on his emaciated and feeble horse, without iron shoes, with a worn and patched saddle, the reins and the rest of the equipment broken, so that it appeared plainly that all had been prepared for mockery; as also the staff which they gave into his hands.

[39] and four others being dismissed at Arzila, There was great weeping on both sides, when this wretched company bade farewell to the companions remaining at Arzila; who said, "Lord, remember with how excellent charity you gave yourself to the hardships of this labor, for the service of God and the liberation of so great a multitude. The life of us all hangs on yours. Take care, we beseech you, that it may please God to turn this departure of yours into a greater good. God knows how gladly we would accompany you, in life and in death, if it were permitted us." These things said they embraced one another mutually and not without many tears, and the Prince turning to them, with eyes weeping copiously, said: "God be with you, and guard you as I wish: pray to him for me." Thus they rode toward Fez by a mountain route, by a dangerous journey, for to proceed by the plain they would not have dared on account of fear of robbers: for which cause they also made twenty well-armed men go with them. When they came to some village, a messenger about their arrival being sent ahead, the inhabitants being warned, few indeed of the men came out, as those who were intent on their business; but a huge crowd of boys and women, asking who was the King of the Christians, and the names of his companions; which were inserted into the songs of those mocking them, and spitting in their faces, and throwing stones and bits of dry bread. So it was done with them, until they came to the place where they had to halt: where when they had arrived all the common people ran up, mocking and insulting the wretched, until full night.

[40] But when they were led into the houses, they found neither beds nor anything else for lying down, suffering many things through inhospitable lodgings, except what they had brought with them: for they were unwilling to permit even this, that the Infant should rest on their mats

or coverings; saying, that it would be unjust, if the renegades and excommunicated should use things pertaining to the Moors beloved of God. What was given them for food was fitter for dogs than for men: nor were they permitted to use their pottery or vessels: but they were an abomination to all as unclean: but some immediately broke the jars and pots, whenever the Christians had drunk or eaten from them. Who could explain how patiently and humbly this Lord bore all those injuries? esteeming them so little, as if they pertained nothing to him. And when food was sometimes given him, he said; "I would wish that not even so much were at hand for me, as suffices for leading life." Six whole days this journey took, through rough and trackless ways, nor passable without great difficulty.

[41] On Saturday, which was the last day of May and the vigil of Pentecost, they arrived at Fez, where before the city in the place of the cemetery of the Moors they were detained for the space of one hour, on the last of May he arrives at Fez; a spectacle for all the common people, convoked and poured out to see them. Then they were led into the city, Ferdinand on horseback, the rest on foot, through a multitude so thronged, that in the space of three hours they scarcely arrived. But it was possible to see a people, not only innumerable in abundance, but also marvelous for the variety of its ill-fitting attire: but voices and shouts and howlings struck the ears of those passing on every side: there led in through a most crowded throng, which itself would by no means have been possible, unless certain Moors going before with swords and clubs had opened the way for themselves and them by striking on every side. These led them within the gate of the new city, accompanying them as far as the palace of the city, and the royal hall; until they came to the place of the Council, which in their language they call Mexoar. There they ordered the Infant and his companions to be unshod, and made them all sit together on the ground: he is dragged to the Palace, but Lazaraquius was unwilling then to speak to them or to lead them to the King: he only ordered the names of each to be written down, and them to be handed over to Benzamago, Prefect of the Zaquifa or Castle.

[42] and thence to the Mint; He placed them in certain most fortified houses, where money is made, and certain other royal works are done, which they call Tarecena. With them likewise there were led in two Christian bondservants of the Portuguese nation, bound with iron, who were said to have deserted from the camp to the Moors, the name of one was Alvari Reane, of the other Didaci Delgado. These showed the Infant and his companions the Masmorra, that is the prison, and the chains which were prepared for them: moreover they reported that they had heard those who said, that it was decreed to mutilate each of them of one hand and one foot. These were the delights and good news, where, much vexed in a dark prison, with which the guests were there received, in one of those houses, which was of double flooring; whose windows were all so closed, that not even in full day could anything be seen there without a candle. But those two Christians were said to have been sent in there, to provide company to the Infant, as they accompanied him everywhere thereafter.

[43] The following night the ministers of Satan did not cease to vex them, until the prison should be finished, in which they were to be enclosed: he exhorts his companions to endurance and trust in God. but these lived thus, as if uncertain what would befall them the next day, and they apprehended in mind the things most to be feared. Hearing therefore the Infant that certain fearful talk was passing among them, he addressed them in this manner. "We are in this place, where labors are not to be feared, but the mind is to be strengthened for enduring them. The mind here is not to be cast down, because, the enemies many, we few, we are in a foreign region: but in the great mercy of the Lord our God, by which he is always present to his own, we ought to trust. For although we are sinners, yet God knows, that for his love and service I cast myself into this state, and took you as companions. Let us therefore act as good Christians; for if it shall be the will of God, that our life be consummated here; I firmly believe that we shall inherit his kingdom: but if he wishes to lead us out hence, he will provide for us all things necessary there."

[44] When morning came the Moors had indeed finished the work of the destined chains: yet they were unwilling to impose them on the captives, The chains prepared for them are deferred, before their Easter, which is named from the slaying of a Ram, and was to be celebrated within the fourth day, had passed. They resolved therefore that the satellites of the Prefect should guard them, for a whole month two and two each; so that no one from outside could come to their sight or speech. To the requisites of nature they were not permitted to go out except twice daily, and always in pairs: but the doorkeepers had the faculty of buying them food with their own money. Yet by means of the industry of those two Christians, who had been thrown in there together, until the King had performed his Easter, the Infant contracted a correspondence of letters with a certain Majorcan merchant, staying at Fez, Christophorus de Xallao; though known only by hearing, never by sight; who lent him wherewith to sustain himself (although for the Infant's sake he was once captured and flogged) and at last died in his service from dysentery. In this manner D. the Infant was handed over into the power of a man, if any other in the whole world most cruel: whom the enormity of his crimes at last brought to this, that he was killed by two most vile men, as will be said toward the end of this Chronicle.

[45] He on the very day of the aforesaid Easter ordered the Infant to be led with his men into a certain tower, that he might see how great a multitude of horse and foot had assembled outside the city, where the King was slaughtering the paschal Ram. But when they returned from the performed ceremony, they met certain Christians of Almeria, whom the Moors did not dare to despoil, because it was forbidden them. the Infant led back from the spectacle of this feast, Five days after there came into the Tarecena those whom they reckon Saints; and they ordered the Infant to descend to them, and said to him: "The Lord Buzaquarius commands, that you write to your King, that you and those who are with you are captives in the Moorish power: and that he could continually treat you and them, as it is fitting captives be held: but he prefers to wait, that he may see what that one will do for your sake. Therefore this Jew, who came with you, under the public faith of Zalabanzala, send with this message, that he may return with an answer within three months." The Infant would have preferred and showed it would be better, he is bidden to send the Jew as messenger to Portugal, if someone of those Christians who were with him were sent: but they persisted that the Jew should go: who until he returned, they placed the Infant with his companions in the house of the Masmorra, and closed it with a great door, well fortified with iron plates, with a great chain and lock. So they remained enclosed for three months; where they could not have the food, which the merchant lent them, except by means of many gifts to the Prefect of the prison, that he might suffer it to be done: and is enclosed in the masmorra for three months. although even so the doorkeepers stole much, besides other injuries and extortions which each committed. Yet daily they heard Mass; for which they had brought all necessary apparatus, until even this was stealthily taken away: but frequently they used the Sacraments of Confession and Communion, with frequent fasts and prayers.

NOTES, D. P.

A long parenthesis here Ramos inserts, and from him Roman, concerning the life and manners of Lazaraquius: which it is pleasing to give here excerpted: "By his proper name he was called Bazaquarius; but he was called Lazaraquius, that is one-eyed, because he had one-eyed eyes: for in Arabic that word signifies that. He was of the race of the Beviotacii, and through his father of the family of the Merini (once rulers of Fez, says Roman); but he had had a mother sprung from Christians. This so evil birth, who ought never to have been born, besides that he was by nature perverse, had a worse upbringing among the Alarabes, becoming a public robber on the roads. Younger in age than all his brothers, he surpassed all in malice, and fraudulently subjected them to his dominion. By his tricks and deceits he disinherited two Merini, sons of Bucard King of Fez, and deprived of the kingdom the elder-born, Zabenzala and Zachen, and raised to king Abdelacanus, the third-born son of Bucard. By this art he established himself in possession of the city of Fez, and so subjected it to himself, that he expelled all the more powerful Moors, and despoiled the rich, but enclosed the children of the magnates in prisons, and promoted to magistracies bondservants and butchers and persons of most vile condition, in place of the noble Merini. Hence become terrible to the whole region, he took all the honor to himself; but to the boy King he left only an empty name: whom he had filled with such dread of himself, that nowhere was he secure of his life, and in the morning scarcely dared to promise himself the evening, kept far from all royal culture and discipline, or knowledge of affairs or honest conversation: but to him service was rendered by all with the utmost reverence; which however not love but fear expressed. All his strength was placed in guile, frauds and hypocrisy: copious in words and those flattering, and in external appearance composed to sanctity and honesty, so that to those barbarians he might seem upright and just: for on one side indeed he struck fear into all by his cunning and tricks, on the other he so bewitched them with the blandishments of his painted speeches, that no one dared to contradict him: and so he subjugated the whole coast from Cadiz to Oran; and through the mountains as far as Morocco and Tlemcen, he extended his jurisdiction. He made his King take as wife one of his sisters, named Halu, already before betrothed to a certain Merino, and afterward defiled by the adulteries of many: but he himself betrothed to himself the King's sister, named Milleziam, already before involved in the loves of others: besides which the libertine had three wives, and ten concubines; whence he had had three sons and nine daughters. The elder of them, who was blind in one eye, was named Hea, whom he had begotten of one of the aforesaid freedwomen, of Fez race."

the fourth day from the last of May, which agrees not ill with the aforesaid.

CHAPTER VI.

The captives, loaded with chains, are led out to do work: the death of their King Edward is announced to them.

[46] Now four months and more had flowed by from the departure of the Jew, when on Saturday the 11th of October of the year 1438, On the 11th of October the Infant and his companions, despoiled of all things, to the Infant, rising in the morning from sleep, the Prefect of the Alquifa entering, expelled all from the house of the Masmorra as they were, and snatched whatever he found of their furniture and money; threats too the Barbarians added, if they still had anything hidden. But stripping the Infant, and searching his garments, they found within his doublet two hundred doubloons, which he reserved for his necessities: and that very doublet they thus carried to Lazaraquius. On the same day chains were put on all in the manner of fetters, but last on the Infant himself: whose companions meanwhile they led to the royal gardens which they call Arryate, are loaded with chains, where there is a bath: and then Lazaraquius himself was in a certain very handsome house, named Buca. There to each was given into hand a hoe, and they made them dig the earth until sunset, when they thrust them back into the Masmorra. But there met the Infant, whom bound with chains ten or fifteen satellites dragged, of whom some pushed him, others pricked his sides with staffs that he might hasten his step, and thus bound are led to do work in the garden. the chains hindering him slower. Therefore he raised them with his own hands as he could, and with great difficulty proceeded, with many going before and following, and filling the air with great shouting.

[47] His domestics seeing him in such a state, raised so great a lamentation, that it appeared enough that nothing in all their life could befall them more bitter. Lazaraquius, reproaching him with the Portuguese perfidy. The Infant too looked at them, and said nothing other than these salutary words; "You see how I walk: pray God for me." To these words what they could have answered, and whether to speak otherwise than with their eyes, let the kind reader of this tearful Chronicle estimate. So they came to Lazaraquius, who sat in the door of the house upon a marble step, and said to him: "Since the Christians are betrayers of their faith, and have not returned Ceuta to me, he orders him to clean the stable, as they promised through you the hostage given for this; you are my captive, that I may do of you whatever I wish, and from now I command that you undertake the care of these beasts." To whom the Infant: "The Christians have committed no perfidy, nor does the name of betrayers fit them: I will do whatever you command: for I care for nothing, nor reckon it to any shame to obey your commands." Immediately therefore they gave into his hands one vessel, with a broom and a shovel, to sweep out the filth of the stable which was behind the gardens: but at full night they led him back to prison.

[48] Now his domestics all lay enclosed in the cave, where there was for them only a place of resting, but no bread which they might eat given. When therefore the Infant had been led into the house of the Masmorra, but at night he is joined to his companions, he asked his guards to join him to the rest in the cave: but they denied that this was given them in command by Lazaraquius, who indeed took care of this, that he should know that not even a lodging was granted him, and that he should be more tormented by that separation. Then the satellites closed the doors, and those who lay in the cave with a shout asked the Infant, how he was: but he answered, "I feel myself exceedingly weak, because since yesterday's breakfast I have tasted nothing at all." But when he saw himself placed in such labor and torment, still fasting, and therefore very weak, he said to them: "I live indeed, thanks be to God; but when they wish me to be separated from you, they wish also to take away my life: for it would be better for me to die, than to be tortured longer, since death be inevitable." Then they: "If you live and are sound, Lord, let God be praised: we trust that to you, for the service of God; and to us, for love of you, whatever labors will be light." But after they had thus conversed for some time, from sadness and weariness they fell somewhat asleep.

[49] When morning came the satellites led the Infant to another house; but his familiars, who had been in the cave, The next day sad on account of the separation, to labor in the garden as the day before. The Infant therefore, feeling them led outside, nor knowing whither, began to be so afflicted, that he suffered a swoon. When the guards had announced this to Lazaraquius, he ordered it to be said to him, that if he wished to go out with his men, he should know that he too had to labor with them: which the Infant judged more profitable, than to remain alone thus enclosed. So they led him into the garden where the others dug the earth; he suffers himself to be led out to work with them, who when they saw him too dragged there with weeping eyes; "What," they say, "is this calamity, Lord, that we should see you too wearied in this so great labor?" But he: "Let no care of me touch you, whom this labor more than you befits": and that said he seized a hoe. A little while after, Lazaraquius understanding, with how ready a mind D. the Infant had begun to labor with the rest, ordered it to be said to him, that for the present he should dig no more: for if good satisfaction were not brought for the oath made to him, there would be time enough for him to dig. then to be present only as a spectator: So from then he went indeed with the rest to the labor: but only occupied himself by relieving them, bringing water, supplying the iron tools, and rendering whatever services he could, with so great tranquility of mind, and words so generous, that they confessed themselves much animated and consoled.

[50] but he himself asks through the Prefect, A little after there passed that way Lahezemcalzal, intimate of Lazaraquius; whom the Infant asked to deign to hear him, and spoke in this manner. "Before all I would have your Lordship know, that neither by the violence of arms, nor induced by any fraud, but of my most free will, I handed myself and these who are with me into your hands, on this condition that Ceuta be returned to you, and the people of the same law and nation with me be dismissed free: and therefore it seems to me that you ought not to treat these, whose fault is none, so cruelly: tell therefore your Lord, that it suffice him to rage against me, and spare them: that he be treated on the same condition as his companions. but if he will not, let him at least do me this favor, that I be distinguished by no condition from them, but he hold me of equal lot with them." This Prefect much praised, equally as all the other Moors, a petition of this kind; saying that it would be, that for so great a love of the Christian Lords toward their own, God would do well by them; and that they deservedly for Lords so loving ought to undergo death: but for that no mercy was used either toward the Infant, or toward his domestics.

[51] His food each single day was two bran loaves, The manner of their food, clothing and bedding, as also of each of the others, without meat or fish; but wine was never given. His clothing, a black cotton doublet, and a wide black tunic stuffed with cloth, with a little cloak likewise black: which garments his men, when need was, mended. For bedding there were two sheep skins with their wool, and on top part of a worn tapestry or a little cloak; for pillow or bolster, a handful of dry hay. But to the aforesaid merchant it was forbidden, under penalty of life or deprivation of goods, to give or lend them anything. To all the Moors under threat of five hundred blows it was forbidden, hardships, and the filth of the prison, to speak to them any word good or bad; nor were there lacking some who were thus punished. To the Infant each night were set for guard two men in his little hovel, capable only of eight men: where they lay most uncomfortably and with much filth, because often the convenience of going out to the requisites of nature was denied: whence were born for them lice and fleas and other hardships, which it would be long to follow out one by one. The Moorish King however and his wife came sometimes to see the Infant, and spoke to him in the garden itself; as also the wife of Lazaraquius and other women, who consoled him with many words; and as often as they ate there, imparted to him some of the food set before them.

[52] While the Prince thus daily labored in those gardens with his men; Lazaraquius ordered it to be signified to him, that news had been brought him of the death of the King of Portugal. News brought of the death of King Edward Which heard he was wholly moved, and stood as if astonished: yet he doubted whether it was not announced against the truth for the sake of afflicting him: and turning to his men: "If this," he said, "is true, I have suffered the greatest loss I can suffer in this world: for I had in my Lord the King a most true friend, and a helper more powerful than all others: wherefore I tell you, if he is dead, my captivity is not to be ended before my life": which all was related to Lazaraquius. So with great affliction some days passed for them, as for men who had never thought to be reduced to a calamity of this kind, nor could have any hope or solace in anything, except in God and the Lord Infant: and because evil news is swiftly carried to those whom it crosses, on the seventh day of the following November Lazaraquius sent to the Infant a letter, It is confirmed to the Infant from Arzila: which from Arzila Ferdinandus de Silva, Prefect of the Royal Stable, was sending, signifying, that when he was at Ceuta, on the part of King Edward to certify Zalabanzala about restoring Ceuta to him, he had received news of his death; and that he was about to remain there, doubting nothing, but that from the Queen and the Lord Infant Peter, then administering the kingdom, he would receive new mandates, which received he would soon transfer himself to Arzila, to confirm the same promises. Which Zalabanzala signified had much pleased him: and that he would ask from the King then reigning his written assurance of the promise; and would immediately send to demand back the Infant and his domestics.

[53] Now certain therefore of the death of his brother the King

the Infant Ferdinand, as if dead, fell to the ground: who as if never to be redeemed, whom when his men running up had raised; returned to himself, tearing the hairs of his head and beard, and beating his breast with his fists, he said; "O Lord God, why have you made me live to this? By the death of my Lord the King you have taken away him who loved me so singularly: nor does anything else remain for me to say, except that you have taken away all my strength, and have removed all hope far from me. Unhappy man that I am, poor, orphaned, captive, whither have I come? Tell me, I beseech you, what hope remains of ever escaping captivity? or what remedy can we expect? A new King has indeed arisen, to whom may God grant many years: but he never so loved me, indeed did not even know me, he mourns most bitterly: on account of his small age. And so whatever good I deserved of the kingdom, extinguished together with the King, will be given over to oblivion. Today I am reduced to that state, in which our father Adam received that sad sentence, 'In the sweat of your face you shall eat your bread.' O my good Lord, how great a grief your death brings me! For I am certain, that, on account of the care which you had of me, this my calamity brought death to you. O how great a solace it was for me to think, that you knew what for your service and love I suffered! From now therefore all human hope has perished for me, and my mortal hardships are doubled.

[54] yet his men console him These and things like these, lamenting all day, D. the Infant said; nor did the regard of his men give small increase to his grief, who at last toward night spoke to him thus. "We know you to be so prudent, Lord, that you understand better than we what is being done, nor do we presume to give you counsel as if necessary, which rather we ourselves seek from you. Nevertheless the love by which we are carried toward you, for whom we refuse to suffer nothing, as you yourself see; compels us to suggest, that you would think, that your brother the King was mortal. But that he died at the time when you so greatly needed him, you ought to receive as a great gift of God, as best they can. for whose service we suffer. If from his hands you receive this so great loss, you can temper the grief drawn hence; but if for your own sake you will not do it, do it for our sake, whom without our merits you so love: for not otherwise can we sustain what we suffer. But if our perdition too does not move you; let the regard of your surviving brothers, so good, move you, who will by no means leave you without solace." By these and other reasons, and by the passing of two days, the lamentation and great grief for the death of the King his brother gradually ceased.

NOTES, D. P.

Ramos adds, that this news was less welcome to Lazaraquius, little solicitous about Ceuta, which was to be restored to Zalabanzala; as is said below in no. 54; where also Ramos digresses into describing the most wicked disposition of Lazaraquius; by which he not only referred everything to his own advantage, with no care had of the honorable; but also did everything otherwise than seemed advisable to another, lest namely in any matter he should seem to need or be led by another's counsel, and therefore could not approve that Ceuta be received for the Infant.

CHAPTER VII.

The captives' labors and hardships are increased, until the end of February 1440.

[55] Although Lazaraquius had less care of restoring Ceuta to the Moors, Lazaraquius, desiring not Ceuta but money, than of the money to be gained from the redemption of the captive Infant; yet he dissimulated, as he was of crafty disposition; and feigned that he rejoiced much at that hope which was offered; therefore he ordered the Infant to be released from his chains, and his companions to cease from doing work: only wishing that they be kept enclosed in the house of the Masmorra. But here they suffered great hunger, because there was no one present to whom they might declare their need; until the oft-named merchant, twenty doubloons being given, obtained the faculty from the Prefect, of providing them with some nourishment. At last in the month of May of the year 1439 there came from Zalabanzala to Lazaraquius letters, the Portuguese promising to return it, he seeks delays; by which he signified, that he had in writing from the King of Portugal the promise of returning Ceuta for the ransom of his uncle. Yet not therefore was the Infant treated any better with his men, indeed so much the worse, the more certain things were announced. Finally toward the end of October the Jew returned to Fez, bringing letters to the Infant: of which he was permitted to read none. And however much Zalabanzala urged that the Infant be sent back to him with his men, since he was now certain enough about the promises being fulfilled; Lazaraquius wrote back, that the matter did not yet seem ripe; but that in time he would take care that the captive hostages be sent back: but he sent back the Jew with letters, by which he asked, that to Ceuta should be sent a respectable man, who could hand over the city and receive the Prince: he added too to the same Moors, who should suggest, that since the city was not returned, the business could be transacted by money; all of which served to prolong the time.

[56] After the Jew's departure, the Infant was again wrapped in chains; he afflicts the captives more grievously, and the rest despoiled of that little of clothing which had hitherto remained to them; for which there was given to each a piece of coarser cloth with which to cover themselves. Lazaraquius ordered too the Infant with his men to be shut up in the cave, where they were kept day and night, without the faculty of going out to the necessity of nature. There, besides two loaves and water, no food was given them: and on account of the narrowness and filth of the place, they had much to suffer from lice and bedbugs and a most foul stench. Furthermore, the day of the Nativity of the Lord coming, all, except the Infant, were led out of the cave, and a stony road to be excavated is undertaken: and led outside the city to a place called Almerce, that they might excavate that whole road, which, very rough, leads from the new to the old city, breaking the rocks with mattocks and hooks, and digging out ditches: which was very laborious. And indeed at the beginning of that day no one knew whither they were led, nor for what: for the day had already advanced toward evening, when they were set to that labor, by no means as it seemed necessary, except for accumulating hardships. It seemed altogether that God multiplied for them the material of patience, who from weariness could scarcely any longer stand on their feet, having their hands as it were flayed: a spectacle truly worthy of commiseration, if in that barbarism there had been any human feeling. Those eight men who guarded them had labor enough, to defend the innocent from the crowd, which seemed about to kill them all, spitting in their faces, striking with fists, pushing with hands, dealing blows, multiplying reproaches and insults; until from the Prefect a mandate came, that the Christians themselves should defend themselves, and that some of the more insolent should be seized by the Moorish guard: and at last late at night they were led back into the cave.

[57] As they returned from the excessive labor, The holy Infant, who from that hour, in which his companions had been led out to the work, had not ceased to pour out prayers, and to commend them to God (for he suspected them led out, either to death, or to scourging), when he beheld them alive, greatly rejoiced, giving thanks to God, that he had merited to receive them back. But as he beheld their hands and feet torn, he could not hold back his tears, and sobbing said: "Now indeed the proverb is fulfilled, 'On account of the sinner the just man is afflicted.' On account of me you suffer such great evils. the Infant sympathizes; Forgive me, I beseech, for the love of God. But although I am the cause of your afflictions, I pray that you have patience: for I trust that God will receive all these hardships in remission of sins, and will compensate them with eternal glory. But if he wishes to lead us out hence, there will not be one loaf which I will not eat with you; nor a shred of cloth which I will not divide equally among you." But these things he said with so great affection, and so great compassion toward each one; that his grief afflicted them more than their own torment. And so to refresh him, and in part relieve him, they began to jest and to sing a little; and some said, "Here lovers shall be known"; another, "Truly I affirm I feel no pain or weariness, so refreshed do I find myself"; one, "Tomorrow I will try, who snatches the first place from me." But although the Lord Infant feigned to acquiesce in their words, yet it appeared that he held a grief enclosed in his heart almost inconsolable. But because the whole day he had tasted nothing, he celebrated with them a rich banquet, namely on dry bread and water.

[58] The same being led out to the same work, So the night passed for them. But when morning came, again they led them to the place in which the day before they had labored; and where an almost innumerable people awaited them, places being prepared for it, as is wont to be done for watching bullfights or jousts; and all these filled the heavens with shouts, as soon as they saw them. Boys and girls were lifted on shoulders, and feeble old men were carried on beasts; indeed even the blind said, that it was enough for them, to hear the clanking of the chains, with which those bound dogs walked: the women too were indignant at their natural softness, and mutually goaded one another to inflicting blows on the wretched. But the Moors, who had led them there, and saw their hands so worn, that they did not suffice for the labor of working in the rocks; ordered them to dig the softer earth, until those, a callus being formed over, should harden. Meanwhile there approached the Infant a certain Moor, as if for the sake of conversation, but in truth to explore what mind he bore. To whom he, as if complaining, said: "I wonder indeed, the Infant complains of so great barbarity, how you can thus act against all human reason. Tell me, I pray, what have these done to you, that you wish to torture them with so enormous a labor?" To which the Moor said, "That it may be learned in Portugal, and so the return of Ceuta be hastened." Then the Infant: "This is truly a manifest injury. For I was pledged for the city, not these; and unless I existed, little would be given you for them." And on this account it was decreed that together with the rest the Infant be led out to the public works.

[59] That matter being divulged, this same thing was announced one night to the Infant by his domestics: and in vain he wishes to be joined to the labor, who smiling, said: "I do not indeed fear this: God knows what great pleasure it would be to me never to be separated from you, not even in the most vile labors and works: for all things would be easy to me, in which I should see myself like you: nor would any shame thence befall me. But because this would be a great solace to me, I know that on account of my sins it will not succeed." And so indeed it happened: for they did not lead him out for it, fearing lest some conspiring Moors should carry him off, and bring him to Leencho, the enemy of Lazaraquius; who was a borderer to them, and was said to be busy, that, having the Infant in his power, he might sell him to the Portuguese for money. Furthermore that laborious work was finished about the end of the following February 1440: in the year 1440 about March being finished. when all were led back to labor in the royal gardens, and in other things pertaining to the use of the palace; whether stones were to be cut or wood split, or beasts tended; or whatever else the most vile necessity demanded: and in this manner all the ways were closed, through which it was believed the Infant could be restored to liberty.

CHAPTER VIII.

The liberation of the holy Infant attempted and agitated in vain in various ways: his hardships thence increased.

[60] Zalabanzala dying at Arzila, his brother succeeds him; When the Jew departed from Fez, and returned to Arzila; he found Zalabanzala very ill, who indeed soon died; and there succeeded him in the lordship of the city Bubequer, his brother: wherefore it was necessary for him to wait, until Lazaraquius should command Bubequer to proceed in the business begun, as his brother would have proceeded if he had lived. But he secretly was treating, how he might despoil him of that lordship: wherefore he afterward even besieged him at Arzila, but with vain effort, as will be said below. Meanwhile there came secretly to Fez a certain Moor named Faquiamar, who had been the foster-father of the Moorish Infant Ismael, who had stayed some time in Portugal; but he came with this plan, and a Moor from Portugal is caught that he might secretly carry off the Infant Ferdinand. But the matter had become known to Lazaraquius, and it was said that the way through Cadiz had been written to him by the Moors staying at Lisbon: wherefore he disposed snares for the one coming, by which he might seize him: but he escaped these, and betook himself to Ceuta. On that account they transferred the Infant with his men to another hovel, and held his companions more strictly as to enclosure and food, saying, that penance must be done by them, lest they should attempt something similar another time. contriving the Infant's liberation: From now not even one hour flowed for them without dread: for now there was present someone saying, that all were soon to be slaughtered; now another announced, that scourges were decreed for them, or some other kind of torment. So the good Prince dragged out his life, which ought rather to be called a long death.

[61] There was no one among those cruel barbarians, who sympathized with so excellent a Prince, who, handed over as pledge to the little priests and one bearing all things so constantly and humbly: but neither was there any sense of commiseration in the elders of that sect, whom they call Saints. To these Lazaraquius gave the business of deliberating, what was to be done with the Infant: and because he wished to seem to favor their Mosques, he presumed to receive as it were on loan the treasures of the same, for which he said he handed over to them the Infant with his men as a pledge; is vexed more cruelly, that, when Ceuta was returned for his liberation, he might hand it over into the jurisdiction of the Mosques; meanwhile that it was just, that he should thence receive expenses, to be made in the transaction of so useful a business. But treating the captives most badly, he pleased his own people, as an excellent zealot of the Moorish religion and dignity. Those Saints daily consulted in their Mosques, by what means they might do evil to the Infant: who in turn daily prayed God for them, that pitying all, he might lead them to the recognition of the true faith.

[62] He was never heard to bring forth even of the Moors themselves one harsh word: meanwhile speaking nothing harsher against them, but rather he commended them to God, and sometimes too said to his men: "You believe yourselves avenged on those Moors, by speaking evil of them: but nevertheless I tell you, that if those who do you evil should die, others worse than these would succeed. But if you avenge yourselves on your persecutors, whom however you cannot harm; you ought not to expect the rewards prepared for those who patiently endure. That you may show yourselves good Catholics and suffering for the faith; you ought to pray God for the conversion of those infidel enemies of yours: and persuading his companions to abstain from reviling. for if they were Christians, they would do us no harm. Indeed I tell you in truth, that I am no more affected when they call me a dog, than as if they called me their Lord and King; nor do their vituperations depress me more, than their praises would exalt me: for I do not desire to be praised or honored by them; but, if it pleased God, I would wish to live free among them."

[63] And so he equally excused both the malignity of the infidels and the negligence of his friends: The same is enclosed more strictly, and what to us could seem unjust actions, he himself turning to the good part, appeased the minds of all, removing every kindling of hatred: wherefore he by no means took it grievously to be enclosed more strictly, on occasion of that Moor, who was said to have come, that he might secretly carry him off. And because at Cadiz there had remained a certain servant of the Infant Henry, sent by him as was said with a legation and gifts, under various pretexts to treat his redemption by the money-way; they said the Portuguese acted fraudulently, who on one side indeed feigned that they wished to hand over Ceuta for him, but on the other strove to steal him away; and therefore they changed his guard and labors; that, what before was done for the sake of security, should be turned into a penalty. Meanwhile no hope of help or solace appeared: and every solace being cut off. and his life hung on the dissimulation of the guards and the Prefect, whom the aforesaid merchant won by money and gifts, that they should allow some fitting nourishment to be brought to the captives. For no longer than that wage lasted did a certain compassion of those barbarians toward the bound endure, whose hardships they themselves did not feel; but, such an enticement failing, others said that it was not their concern, whether anything was given to the Infant and his men or not; indeed that these deserved to be treated worse, and they threatened that they would do so. The Moorish King too and the Queen, with the court women, who before were wont to console them and raise them to hope, now omitted this, and passed by them as if unknown: so that, abandoned by all, every favor was lacking, and distress abounded.

[64] Hereupon a certain Moor brought Lazaraquius a letter, from the widow Queen D. Eleonora; The savagery is increased, through which she begged D. the Infant, that he should give to Petrus Laurentius the Commandery of Elvas, then vacant: which when he had had read to himself, he cursed the Christians as faithless, who asked one city from the Infant, and were not solicitous for his liberation: and tearing the letter, he said, that it was by no means to be exhibited to the Infant: who if he could give that city, would better bestow it on one of those who were with him in captivity. from a letter of the Queen given to him. Nor do I know whether that barbarian, who was everywhere heard to be malignant and a tyrant, did not, in saying this, intend to confound those who thought well of the Christians as upright men, by reproving the unjust distribution of goods among them, which ought rather to be expended on those suffering evils, than on those living commodiously and delicately. Wherefore he ordered the Infant to be guarded more strictly, lest anyone should have the opportunity of conveying letters of this kind to him.

[65] The Portuguese being ready to hand over Ceuta, So that year passed; but in the following 1441 in the month of March there came a messenger, narrating that D. Ferdinandus de Crasto had arrived at Ceuta, to hand it over for the Infant; and that the Licentiate Gomesius Canus, with Martinus de Tavora, were going to Arzila to conclude the business. To show that this pleased them the Moors had the captives released from their chains. At the beginning of May the Jew arrived at Fez with letters of the Lord Legates, awaiting at Arzila that the Infant be brought there, for whom they would immediately hand over Ceuta, as had been promised to the Moors. The same Jew brought the diploma of the King himself with a leaden seal, giving proof of the power which the aforesaid D. Ferdinandus had to this end: by which documents so certain the Moors being persuaded, as a great favor they granted to the Infant and his ministers, that they be led back into a chamber; yet on this condition, that they should let themselves be seen or addressed by no one, and live content with bread and water.

[66] The Moors feign that they wish to return the Infant: On the sixth day after, namely the feast of Pentecost, they had the Infant brought to the place of the Council, ordered at the entrance of the gate to take off his shoes, and to hold them in his hands. There sat Lazaraquius with his counselors, and nobles and officials, some of whom had abjured the faith of Christ, and many others were present, Moors and Jews: and he asked the Infant, whether he preferred to be led to Arzila by him, or by another. He answered, that it mattered nothing to him, whether he were led one way or another, provided they sincerely wished to restore him to liberty. This said they began to weave other and far different talk; and despoil him again, and at last Lazaraquius answered, that now indeed he could not lead or send the Infant: and so he removed him from his sight. On the way they searched him, examining whether he had any letter brought by the Jew; and signified, that for that cause they watched him: but the Jew had not approached the Infant so near, that he could have given him anything. Him furthermore on this occasion they detained at Fez until the following September, when they accused him about money brought to the Infant, Lazaraquius feigns an expedition, and about a way sought for preparing a path of flight, which and many other things they confirmed with subornated false witnesses, not only striking the Jew himself with great dread, but also the Infant and his ministers, with manifold changing of prisons, injuries and hardships, as long as the Jew was in Africa.

[67] But soon Lazaraquius ordered the Algar, that is the sacred expedition (we would call it a Crusade), to be preached, and into it he drags the Infant as companion: and the army to go forth, signifying to the Christians that the King himself would proceed to Ceuta, and would lead the Infant with him. He ordered too that he should write through the Jew to the Legates, that they should do whatever Lazaraquius commanded, a good and truthful man in all things, to whom he himself entrusted his whole self: but from the style it was easy for any sensible man to understand the Infant's mind: but secretly the Jew carried what had been designated by him, what the Legates ought to write in the answer which they were to give. Lazaraquius too, and the King, and the Zallae and the Faquis gave their letters, that if the Christians handed over Ceuta, they would immediately receive the Infant: and this they swore by the truth of their law, and the bones of their fathers and grandfathers, under penalty of losing their wives. With these promises of so little firmness

the Jew departed, ordered to hasten his return with the answers as much as he could. And soon the King too moved, with his army and the guard of his body, and together the Infant with his men. And to the Jew indeed they had bought a led-horse; but four beasts, on which the wearied companions might be carried, and on which might be loaded the skins to be spread under those sleeping, and some provision for the way, which the Moors signified ought to be set straight for Ceuta. Behold how modest a viaticum for so great a Prince: skins, and a few loaves.

[68] with great display, They departed from Fez in mid-September: and soon it was learned that D. Ferdinandus de Crasto had died at sea; and that in his place at Ceuta there was his son Alvarus, with the same power. When the army proceeded, the King held the middle place with great pomp of cymbals, drums, pipes and trumpets, and many banners. The pomp was preceded by the Infant and the dogs; and before him the ministers who went on foot, with four pack-laden beasts; of which if any had to stop, whether for the sake of watering, or because it could not hasten its step more, or for another cause, the King himself also stopped as often. At each station the tent was spread by the Mexuar, who is their Quartermaster of the camp; in the middle of which was erected a wooden cell, from hope of a great ransom for him: within which each night the Infant was enclosed: moreover for guard there was added to him one of the Prefects, chosen in order for this. For from the time the Moors had him in their power under the title of hostage, they made much of him, on account of the ransom by which he was to be redeemed: and as long as he was among them, all their talk was scarcely other than about receiving Ceuta for him.

[69] and the Christians refusing to trust him, So twenty-one days passed, the army always walking around Fez; nor was more than three leagues advanced daily. Meanwhile there was brought the answer of the Christian Legates, demanded by the Jew, the sum of which was; since Lazaraquius did not send the Infant, as he had promised; they could not trust such a beginning: nor would they be so imprudent, as to exchange a city for a few scraps of paper. They made little of the oaths of the Moors, and preferred to lose only the Infant, than the Infant and the city at once: but that the King of Portugal demanded conditions good and secure on both sides. This kind of answer pleased Lazaraquius little, and he said; that he wished to see those conditions, and seeing them despised them. Nor wonder: for Ceuta was not his care: [he feigns that he wishes to submit the cause to the judgment of the King of Granada:] and he ordered the legates to transfer themselves to the King of Granada, whom he made mediator of the whole business. But he sent to him a certain Moor, named Benazarnefius, to signify, that he altogether intended first to receive Ceuta. This Moor departed together with the Legates as secretly as he could: who treated with Lazaraquius in such a way, that it nearly came to their offering him gifts too. But the King with the army returned to Fez about mid-October.

[70] The King thus having returned to Fez, the Infant with his men was thrust back into the same place as before, with the same guards: and because that merchant, who was wont to lend some money and provision, had been cast into chains, and despoiled of all his goods; Manzor Benguillarius, Treasurer of Lazaraquius, assigned for the sustenance of him and the rest, each single day fifteen, as it were royals or denarii twenty of Moorish money: from him there returns a messenger with a mandate of receiving the Infant: which although for the most part were not furnished them, yet gave them the faculty of spending money, which secretly perhaps they received or could have: although too two other Genoese Merchants, who were to hand over the money sent by bills of exchange from Portugal for the Infant, were likewise despoiled by the Moors. Then there came to Fez Xarifius the Moor, with a message from the King of Granada, by which he made Lazaraquius more certain, and offered himself as surety, that if the Infant were handed over to certain Genoese, whom he named, Ceuta would immediately be returned to him: that for promising this he had two Genoese hostages, sufficient for security of this kind. but this too was feigned. This Xarifius had passed through Ceuta, and thence had brought Joannes de Barca, to speak with the Infant. None of these things were done seriously, but to dissimulate the fraud, composed by Benazarnefius, Lazaraquius feigned that he acquiesced in the proposed condition; and ordered the Infant to write to the King of Granada, that he approved whatever he had done, according to the instruction received from Benazarnefius. So Joannes de Barca was permitted to address the Infant, and with Xarifius departed from Fez on the day of the Nativity of the Lord.

CHAPTER IX.

The solaces mutually given and received by the Infant and his companions.

[71] From many proofs the Infant recognized, as he was of perspicacious disposition, Meanwhile the Infant consoled his companions, how doubtful was his liberation: and although he signified this not obscurely to his ministers, yet he did not do this very laboriously and distinctly, lest he should dishearten them or cast them into desperation: but as much as he could, he tried to animate them, and lead them into good hope. But although now and then he seemed as if rapt out of himself, through the various appearances of imminent calamities which presented themselves to his mind, as the tears and frequent sighs easily indicated; yet he did not cease to procure for them whatever solace he could. For he so loved all, withdrawing from himself wherewith to help them, that he could most truly say, "all my secrets I have made known to you," since he retained nothing properly for himself; indeed he often abstained from food, that they might eat; saying, that they better deserved it or more needed it: his garments too he took off himself to cover them; and from the stuffing of his cloak and gown, he clothed three wholly naked. Of the sick he had singular care, and with his own hands fitted medicines, and offered food, saying: "Eat this for love of me: for God knows, what I eat is taken from you." But there was no greater solace to him, than to be with them, or near them: whom he frequently embraced, and in every way solicitous for them. asking how it went with them amid the labors. But when they went out, he ordered them to be greeted by Moors or Christians, whom he knew were going the same way. He never wished to eat, unless all were present to eat with him: and when they were led out to the work, from the great affection by which he was held, he feared lest he should then see them for the last time. But they received from him so much solace, and in turn gave so much to him, that they seemed unable to live without one another.

[72] A plague raging for a year and a half, At the same time there fell upon those regions a great pestilence, which lasted a year and a half, so that sometimes in one day four or five hundred men died. The consternation of the people was great, everywhere mourning and miserable lamentation. The Moors sometimes asked, what remedy the Christians had against the plague: and when they heard, that they avoided the places in which it raged, they laughed at them as fools. They themselves had certain prayers and written names of Saints, none of them is breathed upon: and they also placed Crosses at the doors: and so not even one of them did the contagion breathe upon. With many prayers too the Lord Infant prayed the Lord, that those whom he had given him as companions of captivity he would preserve: nor was he less solicitous for those staying where the plague raged in like manner: At Arzila Joannes Gomez dies, but from everywhere such great fears were struck into him, that he could scarcely give any rest to his mind. Meanwhile through secret letters he learned at Arzila, that there had died of the plague Joannes Gomezii de Avillar, and that the others there were in great fear, complaining that they were ordered to remain there without fruit, and that the Portuguese were unwilling to return the son of Zalabanzala, whom they held as hostage.

[73] These received the Infant exceedingly saddened, began to give thanks to God, saying; and is mourned at Fez by the Infant; "Now indeed I think, Lord, that you chastise me in my beloved and chosen ones: yet may it please your mercy to strike them no more; but let your anger be turned upon me: for I am he who has sinned and deserved the scourges: let these here, bound for my cause, be kept unharmed." So both by the lord and by the servants was mourned the death of that Knight, in whom each beheld his own peril. And all these things were done secretly, so that they could be overheard by no one: but to those who survived at Arzila the Infant wrote back, who through his letters consoles his companions there. how mournful the death of Joannes Gomezii had befallen him, and how great a care to him was the peril in which they were placed: but that it did not depend on him, that they were not dismissed thence: for that God was his witness, with how great zeal he desired it: that he would so commend them to the King, that they would receive more honor and increase from him, than he himself could bestow on them. As for the Moor, whom they grieved was not exchanged with him, that too could not be turned to his fault, who had often asked the same to be done and was about further to ask it; although he foresaw, that by that deed his own liberation would be hindered.

[74] The hardships and calamities, which the Infant suffered there where he was, sufficed to bring death upon him, Two others there extinguished. although from outside no new ones were added. But God who accumulated for him material of merit, and wished that, dying in African captivity, he should leave a more illustrious memory of himself, than if he had lived free in the kingdom; permitted that within a month there should be announced extinguished by plague Arias Dacuña and Petrus de Atayde: whom in this manner he lamented, saying: "Blessed be God, who made me to be born in this world, in greater honor and dignity than I deserved: but he himself knows, with how great effort I desire to be made like to others of lesser condition, bitterly mourning and how much more pleasing it would have been to me to have died in the other perils and diseases, which I sustained; or if it had pleased him, to receive my soul to himself in the camp before Tangier, with the rest of my generous companions, there sacrificed by the hands of the infidels: but I a sinner, was unworthy of so great a good, by which I would have been exempted from all these evils, which befell me, and on my account my present companions." And turning to his men: "Dearly," he said, "you have bought my love: it would have been better for you if you had never known me. Yet let the will of the Lord be done, who made me to be born to endure these things."

[73] So mourning his men consoled him, saying: "Deservedly indeed the death of our men grieves you, his men console him, and ours too will grieve, when it shall please God to grant it us, if you follow only natural love: but if we consider, that this death is in the service of God, and gives birth to an illustrious name, we ought rather to exult than to weep. But as much as pertains to you, Lord, as we are capable of honors and benefits to be received from you; so we have spirits and strength, to endure any afflictions and

penalties; since it is certain, that rewards both spiritual and temporal are not acquired, except through many labors: but in this world there cannot befall us a greater felicity, than if our memory be made commendable and glorious to posterity; but no glory can be greater, ready to bear all things with him: than that we should have accompanied you in so many conflicts. Yet we dismiss the hopes of temporal remuneration, which for your cause we can expect from the King and your brothers: for the firm trust of paradise, to be obtained through your merits, delights us more."

[76] Comforted by such words of his men, he was even more animated by their most ready will, whom he understood to intend nothing else, to whom he himself shone forth as the best example. than that they might create some service or solace for him. So passed the days of his sorrows, the narration of which I labor less to weave, than to explain the heroic virtues, which especially resplended in him. For since he endured all things for the love of God, he did not suffer even the least mention to be made to him of those who were believed able to lead him out of those labors by some invention of the magic art, or by any means dangerous to conscience. But neither on account of shame or any human respect did he ever cease to act well, and to work from virtue. It happened now and then that on account of the correction of some, who quarreled among themselves, contending with bitter words, he himself brought forth certain harsher things: but when he believed them scandalized thereby, immediately casting himself on his knees, he begged to be forgiven for God's sake, if he had saddened them or moved them to anger; because it was not of his intention, to offend anyone even most lightly.

[77] When thus on every side the constancy of the holy Infant was shaken, The Moors marvel that the Infant lives amid so many hardships, always victorious; the Moors did not doubt that his life was divinely conserved; and said among themselves, that his merits would be infinite, if he should follow the Moorish religion. And since they had heard, that the Christian nobles were brought up very delicately; they reckoned it could not be done humanly, that amid the labors so harsh which they imposed, death should not be hastened for him: but they said he was preserved divinely, either that he might one day pass over to their faith, or that through him Ceuta might be restored to the Moors. But into the mind of Lazaraquius and his counselors no affection of commiseration fell: Lazaraquius decrees that he is to be separated from his companions because, desiring most greatly to vex and afflict him, whatever they had hitherto done to him seemed little; and therefore they were eager to devise repeatedly new modes of troubling him, yet such as would not bring the end of life; but from corporal torments they abstained, lest they should lose the ransom hoped from him; and much more lest they should overturn the hope of the whole Moorish nation, fixed in the minds of all, of recovering Ceuta for him. They thought therefore that the Infant could be afflicted by nothing more, that he may afflict him more: than if they should tear him from his companions, by whose presence they knew he was so delighted: yet they did not immediately commit such a plan to execution; but deferred it, until they should learn the determined way of the Granada composition.

[78] This decree of theirs did not escape the Infant: wherefore he addressed his men thus. which he knowing, testifies to them, "Tribulations about to come upon a man cannot be avoided by fearing; but the mind can be prepared, to bear them more lightly. Yet there is one thing which I cannot but fear, lest I be separated from you, and which I seem able in no way to endure. For I am prepared for any afflictions to be borne in your society: on account of the greatest advantages, which your conversation brings me: of which if I be deprived, and left alone, I must wholly fail. how bitter this will be to him; Nor is there need that anyone teach me how I can endure it, for this I know better than any other: but the more clearly I perceive my perils, the more certain I am that it cannot be that I should live long separated from you: for this is the greatest penalty, which can be inflicted on me by anyone. But this I say to you: because you know that I led you into this captivity, that aided by you I might drink this cup: I chose you, because I found you so loving of me and conformed to me.

[79] I repaid you no reward, because you went to Tangier with me; and afterward when you were with me in the camp, I felt my obligation toward you wonderfully increased: and although the multitude of those who exposed themselves then to the same perils as you, he weighs their merits toward him. makes your merit then seem less; yet in the rigor of conscience, no exception of persons avails; and the worst custom of ill paying debts does not absolve the debtor, but he is held to render just payment. But it appeared more clearly, how great services you rendered me and were about to render, from the time we came into this fellowship of calamities: so that I do not believe I could satisfy you, if having attained the kingdom I made each of you Counts. Meanwhile daily that obligation is heaped up by the state in which I am now placed; your merits increasing daily. But I pray the Lord God and the Virgin Mary, who know my mind and know my necessities, and promises a reward from the King and Queen. that they themselves may reward you; and absolve me from so great an obligation, by which I feel myself most burdened: whatever beyond this I owe you, I pray you forgive me for the love of God. Furthermore for what I owe you in this world, I pray, ask, command, that each of you secretly tell me, how he wishes hereafter to live, if God takes me away hence: and I will write you such letters of recommendation to the King my Lord and the Lady Queen and my brothers, that you may be certain that they will give you those offices and benefits, which you will desire and have merited, with your full satisfaction. But so great trust I have in those Lords, and in all those to whom I am bound by any bond of kinship or relationship, that I doubt nothing, but that for love of me they will do for you in my name and repay you, whatever good I here merited of them, because I transcribe all my merits to you."

[80] Words of this kind said with so great affection and from so good a will, They professing that they wish no reward, could not be heard by them without great grief and tears: but because it is not just to add affliction to the afflicted, they answered him thus, "Lord, we doubt nothing of your inclined will toward us: but we ask in place of reward that you be comforted in mind: for in you consists all our good. But let God not permit, that amid these straits we should ask any other reward from you: for to whom we so readily offered our lives, our fortunes too we will readily expend." That answer satisfied the Infant, and he began to bid farewell to all: then he added: "Now on account of my sins I feel the reward which the world repays to those who follow it: nor would I wish that the will which you have of serving me well should deceive you, he indicates that he sees no hope of liberty; at this time when no remedy for evils is hoped. You see by experience how the business of our liberation daily grows more faint in Portugal; nor would it be a wonder, if it wholly vanished through such great delay: which for your sake I feel more than mine: for I now number myself among the dead. Indeed I tell you, and one of you can certainly testify it, that before I sailed from Portugal; I foresaw all this, and from then persuaded myself that I would never escape hence, except by the greatest miracle, which that God should do for me I by no means merit: yet I often omitted to tell you this, lest I should afflict you.

[81] But now I tell you, that I will be more useful to you dead than alive. and wishes them his heirs, A direct heir I have none, except you whom I esteem in place of sons: but whatever I have of my own I so leave to you, that I believe for the love with which my brothers and my Lord the King pursue me, that they will impart it all to you. And because I made a testament before I departed from Portugal, by which I might unburden my conscience, upon the trust which I had with the Lord King my brother, whose soul may God have to himself, and he has now failed; I wish again to write a testament, as I judge will be for the greater service of God and the unburdening of my conscience: but you each do the same. And first let us all make our Confession with the resolve of receiving the Sacraments of Communion and extreme Unction whenever we can, and orders each to make a testament. with truly Christian acts: that so prepared we may undergo the penalty of death." Which all soon did: and so they persevered together until mid-September, when Benazarnefe returned from Granada with the dissolution of the treaties: and again chains were put on all.

CHAPTER X.

The killing of the Moorish messenger: the treaty about ransom is in vain: the Infant's hardships and pious exercises in his own hovel.

[82] At the beginning of the month of March of the year 1442, the Infant was led with his men to the place of the Council, where Lazaraquius was with his men and certain renegades: Before a Moor scourged for the Infant's cause, but the Infant was not permitted to enter except unshod, nor to come as far as the carpet on which they sat. There was brought a certain Moor bound with chains, and a little before (as it seemed) very well scourged; and it was said he was Faqui Amar, once the foster-father of the Infant Ismael; and that fifteen days ago he had been caught with papers from Portugal, for secretly carrying off the Infant Ferdinand. They ordered to be read before them the letter which was from the Foster-father to the Infant his foster-son, signifying that he could trust the bearer, since there was no other way of communicating between themselves. But after many speeches Lazaraquius said to the Infant: Lazaraquius remits the restitution of Ceuta, "According to the report of this Moor, it has now been decreed in Portugal, not to return Ceuta for you: nor do I demand this: only let them give for you and your men sufficient money, and I will recover Ceuta by arms." The Infant answered, that his and his men's redemption would be indivisible: for all were his servants, nor possessed anything except what he himself bestowed on them. But after much altercation over that business, the Infant promised fifty thousand doubloons and fifty Moorish bondservants. And they began to scoff at so great a smallness of ransom, and he himself defines a ransom for himself and his men: and to say, that one street of the city of Ceuta was estimated at more. Then Lazaraquius began to threaten the Infant, and to say; "Now at least you cannot say, that the Moors are the cause of your labors; since your own nation, and those Christians, drive you to them: and since they show how little they make of you, you will see hereafter how much I."

[83] which, as small, being scorned, But immediately he began to institute an inquiry concerning the Moor, who stood captive before him. And because in the letter it was said that the condition and means there proposed was by the counsel of the Queen and the Infant, as he would see from another letter written to all, which letter the Moor said had through forgetfulness been left in Portugal, they had him scourged so near the Infant and his companions, that the scourge sometimes touched them themselves, the Moor is scourged again, signifying that the same was to be expected by them. Afterward the Moor was adjudged to stoning, and there were led away with him two of the Infant's familiars, to be present until he should die; they feigned too that they would kill them as well: then afterward they also took away two others, as if soon to be slaughtered; and that in such a way, that they seemed altogether to act in earnest. Afterward Lazaraquius sent a renegade, to say to the Infant, and he being stoned, the captives fear a similar death. and to those who were with him; "Prepare yourselves all, because the Lord announces to you, that it will be done to you, as has been done to that companion of yours, who came from Portugal to carry you off secretly, and is now being overwhelmed with stones." But the Infant answered, that God would never give him such a companion, a Moor, as they were. They ordered therefore the Infant to be taken from the midst of his men, and to be led outside in such a way that they could not learn whither: whence great fear came upon them, thinking the end of his life to be at hand.

[84] The Infant increases the offered ransom. Those who had led away the Infant placed him in a certain house of the Masmorra, and there secretly began to treat about agreeing on a ransom until night; when the Infant promised them one hundred and fifty thousand doubloons, and one hundred fifty captives; to which condition Lazaraquius feigned that he acquiesced. Meanwhile he also assailed the Infant's domestics, if perhaps from them too he might extort some ransom by fear and threats: but however much he strove, he could never bring any of them to promise anything. But all said they remained in what the Infant had before said: nor could they say anything which he had not said for them. Night having come the four Christians were led back, whom before they had led away; and all eleven they kept together a great part of the night: when they ordered them to be shut up in a certain house of the Alaquisia, which is as it were a castle of the prison.

[85] That whole night the Infant kept vigil: for he knew nothing of his men, nor these of him; And separated from his men, he is greatly distressed; which was to both a great affliction and fear. The Infant indeed questioned the doorkeepers; but even if perhaps they spoke the truth, he did not dare to believe them. But to increase his distress, that whole day Lazaraquius remained in the court of the Tarecena, ordering the pack-saddles of the camels to be fitted and the drivers to be prepared, nor ever withdrew from the door of the Masmorra, nor permitted that even the doorkeepers themselves should see the Infant, or give him bread and water. But although he lived there in such great penury, yet he was more tormented, because whatever Lazaraquius spoke seemed to be against the Christians, and he himself heard the sound of chains. but understanding them to live, Sometimes too he thought he heard the proclamation of justice being executed as on something; and prostrated himself on his knees in prayer: then with his hands he raised his chains, lest they should give a sound; and approached a certain hole of the grating, and looking thence sat down. In this anxiety the whole day passed for him: but toward night they brought bread and water, of which he took very little. The following day he felt himself very ill: which when two of the doorkeepers had reported to his domestics, he animates himself and them to endurance: they sent him something cooked. On the third day they took one of them to labor in the Tarezena, who found a way of addressing the Infant. Whom when he saw, and understood that all were sound, he took so much joy thence, that his eyes were filled with tears; and bending his knees, with eyes raised to heaven he gave thanks to God; saying, that he had never received such glad news. And he ordered all to be much greeted, praying that for love of him they should take courage, that he would do as much for their sake; and that henceforth he would eat whatever was given him to prolong his life, since they by God's mercy were still alive.

[86] at last enclosed in a certain narrow latrine, Then it was decreed by Lazaraquius and his Cadis and Faquis, that the Infant be sequestered from his men; not indeed that he might be afflicted more, but (as they pretended) for the sake of greater security, lest he should flee. Meanwhile while the place was being fitted in which he was to be enclosed, he was detained in the Royal palace, in a certain earthen little house, where were the latrines of the Eunuchs, keeping watch at the door of Bembuzigar; and it is in a corridor which leads to the gate of the Mexoar. There was no window there or lamp; and so through the whole day no one could enter there without a candle: nor was the place larger than was needful for one man, doing the requisites of nature: and here was a seat, upon which the Infant slept. In this prison they placed him on the fourth day of his separation at midnight: and he remained there alone fifteen months, until he died.

[87] On the very night on which they led the Saint from the Masmorra to the aforesaid prison, he is found very weak, they transferred his domestics to the houses of the Masmorra itself: to whom it was most grievous not to find the Infant there, whence they suspected him already dead. Likewise that night was most grievous to him: but in the morning, when the doorkeepers had entered to him, they found him very weak; wherefore they summoned a physician. Him he, beholding with a sad countenance, as if no more hope remained, said to him: "What I most feared and always deprecated, has now befallen me. Since therefore it pleases God, that I should so unhappily end my life, to dispose himself for death, may he be blessed. Yet I must prepare myself, as one who has not long to remain here, but must sooner enter another way: and dispose all things, that I may be more conformed to supramundane things. May God order my end to the salvation of my soul: for my body I now hold as dead." To this and other speeches the physician could answer nothing, because he was so greatly urged to hasten: yet while he reached the door, the Infant charged him, that he should greatly greet all his men, and tell them, how great a solicitude he bore for them, from which his death too would be heavier to him.

[88] This understood Lazaraquius ordered, that his ministers should prepare him food, and only one of them should bring it in. But the rule which the Infant prescribed to the physician was this, that on every Monday and Wednesday, under a rule of great abstinence, voluntarily taken up, no meat or what tasted of meat should be brought him: moreover that he should say nothing to his familiars about his abstinence, lest anyone perhaps should strive to hinder it. Likewise if any of them happened to die or fall ill, that they should not tell him, or report any unhappy news, if perhaps any were brought from Portugal, about the King or his brothers, or the nobles or people. They should tell him nothing either of those things which could stimulate the mind to anger or hatred of anyone. Meanwhile as long as he was there, he led there a life so harsh and so abstemious, that it can scarcely seem credible to anyone.

[89] With great grief the domestics and faithful servants awaited, what the physician would report of their lord: and they desired more to hear of his death, than to suffer such great pains in expectation of it. His companions anxious for him, For although death is believed to be the most terrible of all terrible things, and the most bitter of bitter things; yet to them it ought to seem sweet, who so often had it before their eyes, that they no longer feared it. But Lazaraquius, to afflict them more, ordered that thenceforth each of them should tend ten beasts, and that they be occupied continually in the most laborious and most vile offices that could be found; they are burdened with enormous labors, nor rest be given them before night, contrary to the custom of the Moors, who have the habit of ceasing from work from the hour of Vespers. Nor did he care that they should do any necessary or useful work; but this failing, he ordered them to carry dung from one place to another, or to break rocks or wood, in short no rest to be granted them. Likewise that whatever Moor passed them by, should strike them with blows and otherwise vex them; but if anyone returned a harsher word, he should be punished with five hundred blows; if he struck back, and are treated most harshly. he should pay for the deed with a foot or hand cut off; but they should be loaded with such great labors, as they could scarcely endure with their lives safe: so that at first they believed them to be intolerable for them, nor done for any other cause than that they might be utterly destroyed. When the Moors proceeded with the army into the field, they were left in prison, their shins enclosed in a block, and the neck and hands heavy with chains. The food destined for them was an eighth of flour, which they ate as they wished: and now and then they gave them the food which is called Couscous, when it was offered by others.

[90] At the same time Lazaraquius commanded the Infant, to write to Portugal, that for ransom four hundred thousand doubloons and four hundred Moorish captives were demanded: Lazaraquius demanding 400 thousand doubloons and 400 Moors, and that he wished to see how much they would promise for him. But toward the end of the fourth month in which he was separated from his men, there came from Portugal the answer, that, the enormity of the demanded price being considered, it appeared enough that they were not acting in earnest: nevertheless that there were offered fifty thousand doubloons, and, if perhaps it could be transacted at some reasonable price, that Legates were sent to Arzila, Vascus Friaz and Ferdinandus Ruyz, 50 thousand are offered: the Knight foster-brother of the Infant, with whom there should be treated about a ransom which on both sides should seem just. And that the same legates would lead with them the son of Zalabanzala, to be exchanged with Gomezius de Silva, Petrus Ruiz, and the bones of the dead. To the reading of these letters the Infant was summoned, to whom Lazaraquius said many injuries and reproaches, calling him a Dog, and threatening many things: and because in the letters brought from Portugal mention was made of the son of Zalabanzala to be sent back, the Infant was ordered to be led back to prison, until he should come. the Moorish hostage is returned in vain: But he came to Fez within three months, but for that nothing more was advanced in the Infant's business; to whose domestics many contumelies were inflicted. Lazaraquius ordered them to be brought before him, ordering that the Jews should pluck their beards and their long hair, and through them dragged should deal blows, saying, "Come, satellites, give these dogs to those dogs, and let them beat one another: for so they treat the Moors": and this he afterward had repeated by turns. In the same month there were brought seven Christian captives, of those who guard the watchtower of Ceuta: for which victory there was great joy in the whole city,

and banners were displayed, and daily there came into the city neighbors and pilgrims to hold games before the King's palace. But they did this to dissimulate the disaster received from the people of Ceuta, who had killed and wounded many of the cohort of the Captain Buruffius, who had dared to run out there.

[91] As long as D. the Infant lived in that prison, he supped rarely, and that so sparingly, The Infant, fasting much, that it could be said to be fasting: often too as if eating he moved his mouth, but what he had taken he spat out, saying, that he could eat nothing: or what was set before him, he sent to the sick captives, or to others in want. With many promises he strengthened the Christian bondservants there in the holy faith, lest they should fall away from it, as after his death six or seven of them did fall away. By night and day he had a lamp lit, which his ministers with much labor and diligence kept burning: he had also with him a great paper book in the form of a Breviary, and praying on bent knees, where were written many devout prayers. He prayed continually vocally, both knees bent to the ground: in like manner too he slept, whence his very knees had grown much callous and protruded high, not without notable discomfort. His whole occupation there consisted in frequent prayer; after which he was kept busy catching lice and fleas. When he wished to speak to any of his men, he bribed the guards with money, who secretly brought him in at the time of eating. he deals secretly with his men through a hidden hole; At other times they said, that he had need to seek for the garden-beds earth and lime, of which there was a great abundance in the rubble of a certain ruinous palace, only one wall separating the Infant from them; and for this they had the faculty from the master of the works, and they saw and addressed him through a hole, which he himself had made from within, a brick being drawn out, which he repeatedly replaced.

[92] Every week or fortnight his Confessor visited him, and stayed with him as long as was needful: but twice he was there from the first of night until dawn, when he absolved him from guilt and penalty, through the Indulgence of Martin V and Eugene IV, granted by each once in life. So great an abundance of tears flowed to him from his eyes, that the corners of these and the cheeks, through which they flowed, were seen thence scorched, as was manifest to all who saw. But it cannot be explained, how much he was refreshed by seeing or addressing his men, whom among all he distinguished by the sound of the chains: and as often as he spoke to his men, he always said: "For the love of God, he weeps copiously, forgive me the labors and troubles, which for my cause you suffer." But on a certain occasion before his death, addressing three of them, through that hole, he explained to them the purpose of his mind in these words:

[93] he indicates that life is desired by him "I signify to you as friends, whom I hold in place of sons, that the greatest pleasure, which I could enjoy in this captivity, would be to stay with you, and go out to the common labor without any distinction: and I plainly affirm, that so great a joy would flow to me thence, that I would much prefer it to the kingdom of Portugal. Indeed (God is my witness, that I do not lie) only for three causes would I wish to live, first that I might reward you and satisfy you as you have deserved, and the others who served me: which will be done by no one as it would be done by me, as in similar cases I have learned by experience. only for three causes, very pious. The second, to animate the Christians, that they should war down these regions; and that not for the cause of vengeance, on account of the evils which here are done to me, for all these I have pardoned; for whatever the Moors do and will do, I receive as from the ministers of my salvation. The third, to persuade the King my Lord and my brothers, to busy themselves to free the Christian captives here, and to exercise the works of corporal and spiritual mercy: which I, if I could, would do without further expense to them: for I would do it better than any other. For these three causes only, but not for any pleasure of mine, would I desire to live yet longer: for God knows, how the weariness of this world holds me."

[94] It often happened, that the Moorish Palace women came up to the doors of that place, he is vexed by the songs of little women at the doors, where the Infant lay; and there they sang whatever came into their minds, and wished to be heard by him, since they could not be seen. But although he did not understand the Arabic tongue, yet he somehow caught the sense of many words, and thence was afflicted; nor rarely were lies sprinkled in, feigned to that end. For example, "Now our Moors have intercepted Ceuta": "Now they have killed the Count, and with him more than a thousand Christians." At the same time there was brought the news, that the Infant John, the Saint's brother, had died: by news of evil things. and such things they continually made him hear at that door: but he himself suspected that they lied in this too, especially since they added that this was the King who occupied Tangier. And because the Moors now and then added, that in all Portugal there was no man more robust than he nor greater, than that King who stormed Tangier; the holy Infant imagined to himself, that they feigned him dead, to whom they wished ill: but his men always concealed from him the death of the Infant John.

NOTES, D. P.

CHAPTER XI.

The holy Infant's last illness, the Saints beheld in a vision, his pious death, the laments of his companions.

[95] In the year 1443 on the 1st of May the Infant begins to suffer dysentery; The month of June of the year 1443 coming on, there approached too the time, in which God had decreed to put an end to the holy Infant's calamities; since these were now most grievous, and no longer tolerable. On Saturday therefore, and that the first day of the month, the Prince began to suffer dysentery, with so great a loathing of all food, that he could take none at all within. The next day the disease grew strong, and much more on Monday, when he appeared much more weakened. When this was understood by his domestics; three of them presumed to enter the palace, as if summoned there to do some work. But when they had come to the door where the Infant lay; they heard his sighs as of a man failing; and he sends three of his men to the King and Queen for laxer custody; then with mouth brought nearer, they said; "May God save you, Lord, how are you?" He asked them, who they were: to whom they, "Is then your infirmity so great, that you do not recognize us? Before you distinguished us by the mere clatter of the chains, and now you do not even distinguish our voices?" Then he begged that this be forgiven him, for the violence of the disease was so great, that it had almost taken away his sound mind. "But go," he said, "speak to the King and Queen, that they may intercede for me with Lazaraquius; that, snatching me out of these shadows, he place me in that location where I can be cured and helped." And indeed he had so failed, that he could scarcely raise himself for the necessities of nature.

[96] It is easy to estimate how sorrowfully they received these commands, which they saw could not be fulfilled without present danger to life: yet love conquered all fear, but this was in vain, by which they were carried toward their Lord; whose disease they felt more grievously than their own peril. They spoke therefore to the King, the Queen, and the King's sister, for she was Lazaraquius's chief wife: but they received no other answer, than, "Tell him, to take courage, and help himself as best he can: for we can do nothing in that matter." As many of the Prefects as seemed good and honest men, coming to the palace, were compelled to hear their complaints of such great cruelty. as also are the complaints to the Prefects. But while they begged mercy for their afflicted Lord, in such great need; with many tears they cast themselves to the ground, kissing their feet and hands: but neither with these did they profit anything, some saying, "What does it concern us? Who will dare to speak to our Lord on that matter?" Others said, "God knows how unjust to us seems what they do, and how ill it makes us feel: but we can do nothing else." There were even those who reproachfully said, "Give us Ceuta, and immediately a greater favor will be done to your King."

[97] Meanwhile there came the Prefect Dalaezem, intimate of Lazaraquius, to whom likewise they indicated the deplorable and miserable state of their Lord. received with reproach. But this one too, having heard them, began on the contrary to shout and quarrel, saying; "Do you, dogs, think that we who are men can save your King? Get out of here at once: if God will, he himself will kill or save your King." With these things said as ignorantly as inclemently he drove them from him, most afflicted by such a repulse. At last they approached that Prefect, under whose custody they were; begging that he would signify to the Lord, how near the Infant was to death. He not so much to succor the need, at last however a physician and a few ministers are allowed to the sick man: as to do his duty as guard, announced what he had heard. But not therefore was any relief or help given, or anything better than the customary portion; only they permitted that a physician should enter to the sick man, and stay with him, and together some of the Christians whose help was needed: and so Tuesday flowed wholly through until Wednesday.

[98] On Wednesday, one hour before dawn, the Confessor, who together with the physician had begun to assist the sick man day and night, the Confessor too having entered with him, rose to his feet, to explore whether the Infant slept: but looking on his face, he beheld a great brightness proceeding from it; the appearance of his countenance cheerful and pleasant, but his eyes full of tears and intent on heaven. He began therefore with great admiration to ask, once, twice, thrice, whether he slept: but at the last word

the Infante answered that he heard him well. The Confessor did not wish to question him further, understanding well enough He understands it under the seal of secrecy. that he did not wish to speak; and he lay down again as before, until in the morning the doorkeepers should unbar the gate. Then the Infante called the Confessor, and asked the physician to go out for a little while; and to the Confessor alone he spoke thus: This morning you asked me what I was doing, and I answered nothing; for I did not wish anyone else to hear us. Now, however, you will promise me that you will receive whatever I may tell you as though it were said in Confession, and that you will reveal it to no one in this captivity, but only after you have been in Portugal, or if you should see something begin to be done about taking up this body of mine, unless perhaps the greater glory of God and of the Mother of God should require otherwise.

[99] Then he began to tell him as follows. It is two hours before dawn, The Mother of God appeared to him that, as I lay considering the straits of this world and the glory of the Blessed, I began to feel great consolation in my heart, and a desire to depart hence. Meanwhile I fixed my eyes upon that wall, and I saw before me a certain Lady, sitting on a lofty throne with great majesty, surrounded by many beautiful and splendid persons; and at once I knew that she was the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God, the patroness and advocate of sinners; and I placed myself on my knees before her, when one from that company said: I beseech you, Lady, to have mercy on this your servant, who has served you so greatly and honored you in this world. And the Angel Michael praying for him, See how long he is afflicted; and pray your Son to put an end to such great hardships of his. I offer you, Lady, my prayers for him, because he is devoted to me: may it please you to bring it about that he be placed among us. Hearing this, I directed my eyes upon him, and saw that in one hand he held a balance and in the other a cross, the symbols with which Christians are wont to paint the Archangel Michael; and I understood that he himself was the one whom God was giving me to recognize by such signs.

[100] Soon also I saw another behind him, who likewise bent his knees, holding in one hand a chalice, together with St. John the Evangelist, in the other an open book, in which I read the beginning of the Gospel according to John, In the beginning was the Word; whence I recognized him without hesitation, and heard him saying: Come, Mother and Lady, have compassion on this your servant who is also devoted to me, and do not allow him to be tormented longer; for it is time that he sit with us in the banquet of heavenly glory together with these our brethren. At the entreaty of these two, to whose prayers she assented, whom alone I distinguished from the rest, I heard the Virgin Mary, who was gazing upon me with a kind and gracious eye, say that on that very day I should be brought before them; and having said this she disappeared, and you began to speak to me. Such a vision was a great consolation to me; nor do I doubt that I shall truly today depart from this world. When the Confessor heard such things, he began to weep and to praise God, encouraging the Infante by saying that God would first restore him to good health. But he, lifting his hands to heaven, said: There is my good health; and all my good is that I shall obtain so great a blessedness as God gives to his servants. How could I, my God, have deserved that your glorious Mother, with her heavenly company, should come to visit me, and to make me certain of your glory? He gives thanks for such consolation: Who am I, a sinner, to whom you, my Lord, show such great mercy? Nor are all the tribulations of this age anything compared to the least particle of your glory. O my soul, how greatly you ought to rejoice in your God, who loves you so greatly and bestows upon you such grace that for a brief labor he gives you eternal rest? Lord, if you see that I have so quickly earned the reward of labor, it pleases me to die; yet I am ready to endure whatever is most cruel even unto death; for I feel strength imparted to me for all things, from this so great hope offered to me. Lord, as it pleases you, and as your will shall be, so let it be done.

[101] Upon this the physician entered and brought him food; and so this whole day passed until sunset. The next day, feeling himself dying, Then the Infante had a withdrawal without any stench, and soon began to fail and to wander in mind. And the Confessor asked how he fared; he answered, I am altogether departing. Then the other: Therefore make a general Confession. And this the Infante made entirely, with a profession of faith; and folding his arms, with a commemoration of the Passion of Christ, and of the Virgin Mary and all the Saints, he confesses in general, and expires. having received the plenary absolution at the article of death, he turned himself onto his right side, saying: Now let me die. And speaking no more, without any motion or change of position, he rendered his soul to its Creator, to live forever. When the Infante was in this article, the matter was reported to Lazaraquius, who made no more of it than if any other had died. Nevertheless his lying tongue could not altogether keep silent about his praise, but he said to those present, Lazaraquius praises the dead man as a Saint, If among renegade-dog Christians there is any good, this one who has now died had it; who, if he had been a Moor, would, on account of the virtues in which he excelled, deserve to be reckoned a Saint. I know that he never lied; I certainly never heard any falsehood from his mouth; and as often as I sent by night to watch what he did, he was always found kneeling in prayer; they say moreover that, besides the other virtues he had, he lived a virgin and never knew a woman. Surely his nation has brought a great sin upon itself, in that they allowed him thus to die here. So spoke he, proving that the Infante's virtues were so sure and manifest that even his very adversaries could appreciate them, and he himself could say with the Prophet, Our enemies are judges. Deut. 32:31:

XXXVIII

[102] But because it was deep night, they ordered the Confessor and the Physician to be shut within the prison, with the dead body, until the evening of the next day; The companions brought to remove the body from the chains, when they had it placed upon a board and carried to the house of the Masmorra; where his servants, summoned from the place where they had been laboring, might see him taken from the chains; meanwhile ropes and other things necessary for loosing the chains were being prepared. But they themselves, who, though they were still living, could be compared to the dead because of the hardships they had borne, as any fair appraiser of things will easily understand for himself, prostrated themselves on the ground, striking the pavement with their heads, and before this virtuous Infante, whom they saw dead, laying down their beards and hair, beating their cheeks, and kissing the hands and feet of their Lord. His limbs were as flexible as if he were still breathing, and his face shone with an altogether angelic cheerfulness. For some time they could not speak anything, grief and lamentation hindering their tongue; but after they were able to speak, wearied with lamenting, they again broke into tears, and at the same time said:

[103] He has departed from us, whom we held as father and lord; they mourn their dead Lord, and with him our strength has failed, and our delightful fellowship is dissolved. Our guardian is taken far from us; nor can any be found now more afflicted than we are. O Lord, from how great a burden you free us, but not without our greatest grief, whom you leave imperiled abroad. How do you forsake those whom you so diligently raised and governed, and held as companions of all your tribulations? Now nothing is left to us in which we can take a little delight. Remember, Lord, so loving of them that he would not be saved without them; how often we strove to persuade you to flee; but you said that, when you alone might safely obtain liberty, you would not accept it, lest you create danger even for the least of us; but now you forsake not only the least, but all of us at once. For this reason, however, you were thus afflicted, and this was the greatest torment which they could inflict upon you, that you saw how much we suffered for your sake. Nor did you say this by pretense, in order to keep us bound to you. Surely not. For in your generous and faithful breast no fraud ever had place, they grieve that he died without forewarning them, nor would you have wished to deceive anyone. This was made clear at the siege of Tangier, when you were asked to remain safe the first night in the ships; and you answered that you would never depart from the camp unless all withdrew; and that even with the least you would remain, a companion in death and in life.

[104] How then did you not tell us, sorrowful and desolate, of that unexpected and clandestine departure of yours? What danger was there in making it known to us, since we dwell in this captivity? Or did you perhaps fear lest you should thus increase our affliction? Not at all: for against any tribulation your spirit sufficed; you who with great fortitude gave yourself into the hands of the infidels, when they sought you as a hostage for saving the army of the Christians. so necessary to himself, You did not then lack a means of escaping, since you were, among so many nobles, the second commander of the army and fleet, fenced and safe with so good a soldiery; and if it had come to fighting with arms, you could have withdrawn yourself among the first, had it not been necessary for you to remain for the saving of others; although your infirmity and sickness was so great that you ought by no means to have been let go. But that ardor of divine love, which always burned in your heart and could never be quenched, did not permit you to decline any penalty or labor.

[105] Lord, if for the sons of others you offered yourself as a pledge to save them, how do you now not save those whom you said you held as your own sons? But if you prayed God for your own death, and they complain of being thus forsaken by him, why did you not also ask for ours, that you might lead away with you these unhappy orphans, forsaken on every side, whom for your consolation you had chosen to be with you? If you have not forsaken us spiritually, how do you abandon us temporally in this state, your servants? Whoever hated you, hates us also; and he who had no mercy on you will much less have mercy on us. O most high God! how harsh was that desert through which you led us, following that luminous pillar that never declined from good and saving doctrine; through which you sustained us among our enemies, and freed us from so great perils and infirmities. before they obtained their liberty. Why, before liberty is obtained, do you allow us to be drowned in the sea of such great straits? Truly dark and gloomy was the night which took from us the light of such great brightness. By what guide shall we now cross so perilous a ford? to what beacon shall we direct our eyes? whence shall come to us strength and eagerness to endure our hardships?

Where now is the hope of the rewards promised to us? O Lord, with how great joy we came to these prisons, looking forward to the end of our labors, through which we were to come to rest, where our wounds would be gently cared for. All our hopes, all our goods, have been turned into reproach and lamentation.

CHAPTER XII.

The body of the Infante disemboweled and hung from the wall: the fortune of the companions: the end of Lazaraquius.

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[106] Those sorrowful men had not yet sated themselves with lamenting, when to the door of the house in which they lay The companions ordered to disembowel the dead man's body, there came certain Moors with a command from Lazaraquius; who, as soon as it grew light and he had finished his morning prayer in his Algema, outside the old city, took counsel concerning the body of the Infante, whom while alive he had never ceased to torment, how he might continue to persecute it after death as inhumanly as he possibly could. The Moors said to his servants: Our Lord commands you to open the body of your King, and to remove all his viscera and intestines, and to season it with salt, and stuff it with moss and dried laurel, which we bring to you. Those desolate men easily saw that the infidels were in earnest, and that they aimed at obtaining from the dead man what they had not been able to obtain from the living; they refuse to do it: yet they asked to what end they ordered that body to be opened: and they answered, that it might be preserved, until his nation should fulfill what it had agreed upon. Then they said: As far as it concerns us, we will never set hands to opening him, and we have firmly resolved rather to suffer death. Then the Moors recognized that what was demanded was not reasonable, nor did they wish to contend further, and thereby to increase their penalty; and until another Christian could be summoned who would fulfill that command, they shut the door behind them.

[107] and they reproach the Moors for the cruelty exercised upon him. Then all returned to renewed lamentations, reproaching the Moors that they had so mercilessly killed a Prince so innocent and of such great goodness, for whom they would have obtained the greatest ransom, had they known how to preserve him; but now through ignorance they had lost him: for no fruit was to be expected from them, except that upon him they could vent the cruelty which they had begun in the death of their Lord. Then they added: O lords, sons of princes, if until now you have kept your ears closed to the humble entreaty which we made to you, recounting the hardships of this your most afflicted brother; now at least your hearts cannot endure and ignore the injuries amid which he died. O worthy and honorable fame, for the obtaining of which the ancients labored so greatly! but you live, and make little of staining the glorious book of your names? O all you who were in the camp, and with ready will offered your goods and possessions that your life might be preserved; do not, by God, show yourselves ungrateful toward him who gave it to you; and who, stretching out his arms for you, delivered himself into the hands of his and your enemies. But who could explain all that they said in their tribulation? Then on bended knees they drew the chains from the legs of their Lord, and placed them around his body, in which they seemed to themselves to have help and refuge.

[108] Meanwhile a certain Christian was brought, a native of Beja (the ancients are thought to have called it Pax-Julia), who opened the body; They (preserve) it after it has been disemboweled, and they themselves carefully gathered up the intestines to be preserved; and afterwards they were driven out to continue their customary labors, although the sun was already near setting; until there came Christian captives, bringing the herb with which they should stuff the disemboweled body: which done, they placed it on a board, and carried it outside the gate of the city, where they bound the legs with a rope, by which they hung it head-downward from a pinnacle of the wall, but the Christians they led back into prison. they hang it head-downward from the city wall, When this cruelty became known to the servants, no equal penalty could be inflicted upon them except to hang them all around their Lord: and so they entered into the house of the Masmorra, where they lay separated from the other captives: but they were given space to dine, before they were thrust back into prison.

[109] The companions hide the collected intestines, Then the intestines, with the heart and the rest of the viscera, which they had preserved in a large earthen dish, they took and salted well; and in a pit, which they had made in a corner of the house, they buried them carefully covered: but afterwards, ten days later, they arranged over the pit several boards in the manner of a monument, which they covered with a carpet bearing a white Cross: and by giving the porters something, they obtained daily the opportunity that, returning from their labor, together with their Cleric they might there recite the Office of the dead with three lessons, but on Sundays and Feasts with nine: and they pray there daily. and they had there also incense with candles and holy water. And this lasted for them ten months, until they were mixed with the other captives and the monument was destroyed. Then they, as secretly as they could, dug up the aforesaid relics and transferred them elsewhere, and there they remained until Joannes Alvari, the author of this Chronicle, was redeemed.

[110] It was Thursday and nighttime when the body was thus hung up; but on the following day, Friday, Lazaraquius ordered the King to be made ready with all festive array, A festival publicly proclaimed to proceed for the sake of prayer toward the Algema of Alcorius, which is in the old city; in such a way that he should pass through the place where the body hung: and he ordered it to be proclaimed by a herald that all should come to behold it. When therefore the captives were led out from custody to labor, it was impossible to protect them from the boundless multitude that flowed together and had covered the meadows. In like manner within and outside the walls, the ramparts and towers, all were full of people; for whom it was not enough to see that body so dishonored, but it seemed it would still further avenge itself upon it, as some threw stones, others clods; some spat against it, and the people gathered for the spectacle and blaspheming, and raged with many injurious words, saying: This is the King of the renegades, who came to make war on the Moors of God. O stupid nation, which, not content with its own region, coveted another's! Others said: They who so deliberately came to fight against a nation by which they were in no way harmed, how is it they did not come to free their King from captivity? Why did the King and Lazaraquius, whom God preserve, not order that body to be dragged through the city and given to us to be stoned, who would root out so evil a seed from the earth; and then these dogs would have come to avenge their kinsmen.

[111] Meanwhile the King rode out, with Lazaraquius and his Prefects, the King proceeds with his Court; and all the court which they call Mazagania, and they went to make their prayer: but when they passed through the place where the body was, it was said to all that they should humble themselves before their King; and at once all gave themselves prone to the ground, reciting their customary hymn, and saying: God preserve our King and Lord Aldelab: may the soul of his father and of his ancestors have a good paradise; to behold the tournament. and they called the King virtuous and a destroyer of the Christian law. Toward evening also they all proceeded as before, and watched the tournament at the place where the body was, and that festival lasted until night. Furthermore it remained thus hanging for four days until the night of Monday, when they ordered the Infante's servants to lay him in a wooden coffin, which they likewise hung up naked by ropes in the same place: then they placed upon the wall two wooden beams, upon which they set the same coffin, beside the battlements of the walls, at the gate of Zalabenzala, where it long stood, and through him the Lord worked many miracles.

XLI

[112] So great was the hatred the Moors bore to the name of this Infante, and his servants were so harshly treated, that not only to the Moors, Henceforth the companions are vexed even by their fellow captives: but also to other Christians they were objects of contempt, and were afflicted by them: and those who before, while their Lord was yet living, excused them from labors and offered themselves to their service; then little by little withdrew from them, and accused them and alleged reasons, invented at their own pleasure, on account of which they ought to labor equally with any of them: and if they were asked whether they belonged to that Christian who had been hanged, they impudently denied it: so that those men, thus afflicted on every side, dared nowhere to appear or speak publicly among others. Lazaraquius also announced to them and they are mingled with the rest as never to be redeemed. that he would never allow them to be redeemed, but wished them all to die in chains. Therefore those who hitherto had been held distinct from the other captives, in prison and food and labor, were thenceforth led out indiscriminately with the others and with the beasts of burden to the vilest of labors. Now the beasts of burden which they tended were about three hundred and fifty, for the tending of all of which only forty-six Christian slaves were appointed. of whom four soon die. But let us pass over the labors to which they were appointed, and the diseases to which they were subject: for it is memorable that, as long as the Infante lived, none of them fell sick, none died: but on the twelfth day afterward Didacus Delgado died, and soon Joannes de Luna and Master Martinus, then Ferdinandus Aegidius and Joannes Laurentius: but some of them remained safe, and others escaped from great and dangerous diseases.

[113] Lazaraquius besieging Arsilla, But because the cruelty of Lazaraquius was the cause of death to the Infante and his servants, I will here set down a case which happened when he was besieging Arsilla, when it was under the dominion of Bubuquer, brother of Zalabenzala. Among the captives who served the army, one fled by night to Ceuta; and when he was not found the next morning, and Lazaraquius had learned of it, he ordered all the captives to be brought before him, and from the one who had slept nearest him to have all the hairs of his beard plucked out; he rages against the Christian captives, and another, who while being flogged had invoked St. Mary of Guadalupe, he ordered to be dragged to the seashore, and both there to have their throats cut. The next day they caught the fugitive Christian, whose foot-tendons he ordered to be pierced, and ropes passed through the joints, and him to be dragged around the camp: but at night they set him on a cross having the form of a sword, or of an Andrew's cross, head turned to the ground, and they fastened his hands with nails; and so they left him hanging through the night: but in the morning he was found killed by the thrust of a lance, which had pierced his heart.

[114] and while he lies in wait for another Moor But because God most severely punishes the sin of cruelty, in no way ignoring it, it befell this most wicked Lazaraquius that he devised a snare for another, into which he himself fell. When he was deliberating how he might wrest from Abdemumen the town which he held, called Graceloy, the fraud designed fell upon his own head. For pretending to go to Cafilleta, he spoke with certain Alarabs whom he found, as though wishing to take them as friends, with whom Abdemumen himself had already agreed concerning bringing about the death of Lazaraquius, he himself is treacherously slain. and for that end had added to them two Ethiopians. These, remaining in the tent of the Alarabs, at the time when Lazaraquius was dining in security,

cruelly slew him; and so he received the reward of his crimes: but let the reader judge, from the account of his life, condition, and character, in what joy his soul can now be. b After the death of four companions and the defection of one

[115] From the time when this holy Infante came into the hands of the barbarians, until his death, there passed six years; and of the nine servants whom he took with him, there died Master Martinus, his Physician; Ferdinandus Aegidii, keeper of the wardrobe; Joannes Laurentius, the assigner of lodgings; Joannes de Luna, the baker; Christophorus de Luviza, of the replies (his secretary's office), a German man, who defected to the Moors at the persuasion of certain Alvercans, and remained at Alverca. Joannes Alvarez, the other five are redeemed. his Secretary, was exchanged by the command of the Lord Pedro the Infante, for a certain Moor called Faqui Guisnaym; and Joannes Vaz, master of the kitchen, for a certain Moor whom Joannes de Lisbona had, named Abdelaa: and they returned from captivity in the year 1448. But afterwards Joannes Alvari went to Ceuta and Arsilla, with the ransom that was required for Joannes Ruiz, the foster-brother of the Infante, and Petrus Vaas his Chaplain; and he brought them back in the year 1450: and for the aforesaid Joannes Ruiz they gave eight Moors; but for Petrus Vaaz, the Chaplain, two Moors and one Moorish woman.

NOTES OF D.P.

CHAPTER XIII.

Miracles after death. Translation of the body to Portugal.

XLVII

[116] When they placed the body of the holy Infante in the coffin, on the fifth day after his death, all his limbs were found as flexible The body is placed in the coffin, wholly flexible, as if he were alive, nor did it give off any stench from itself: and so they arranged his arms in the form of a cross, and placed him upon a bed of green laurel, which they had fitted within the coffin. Now it was a thing worthy of note and admiration that, as long as the coffin was placed there, the birds, which came in great number to roost on the battlements of the walls, as their droppings indicated; from then on at once withdrew, the birds beware of approaching it, nor did they ever again rest there, nor did they leave any filth there, on the side where the said coffin faced the walls, for one ell on each side; which, being noticed by all, was a marvel to everyone; since it seemed to them that this happened out of reverence for the body of the Saint.

[117] The watchmen and nightly patrols, on certain days of the week, nocturnal lights are seen. saw around the coffin so great a light that they could not direct their eyes upon it, nor discern whence that light proceeded.

[118] the Infante appears in glory to an apostate, A certain renegade, a native of Olivença, being outside the city, saw the same brightness, and in it the holy Infante himself in the form of a dove, with a human face, which he recognized very well: because he had often spoken to him in life. And that apostate testified concerning himself, that seeing the Infante in such great glory, he was moved to bend his knees to him, and to pray that he would lead him back into the way of salvation: and that the Infante, turning away his face, answered: Return to the way which you forsook: and so he fell asleep there until the dawn of the next day.

[119] A certain Moor from Barbary, having quarreled with another, received two wounds, A gravely wounded Moor is healed, one in the head and the other in the shoulder; and came to Fez from his village to lay complaints before the judge: but when he arrived there it was already night, and the gates were closed. So at the foot of the wall he laid himself down to rest beneath that coffin, thinking nothing of it nor of the body. But in the morning, having soon entered through the opened gate, when he loosed the bandage of his head to show the wound which his adversary had inflicted on him, he found not even the scar of it, nor in the shoulder. They asked him how this had happened: and he showed how he had slept beneath the coffin, and they ordered him to keep silent. But many had heard him say this, and affirmed that it could not have happened otherwise than because the Infante in the article of death had had a will to take up the Moorish faith.

[120] It is certain that many sick and feverish persons recovered health by touching the earth on which the fat dripped from that holy body: and likewise it conferred health on oxen and animals that were ailing. likewise many sick, both men and beasts. Hence in that place, whence such earth was taken, a rather large pit was made. Now this was done at the time when the body was at Fez: and perhaps the same is done there even now: since both the place and the earth still remain.

[121] At Ceuta it befell a Franciscan Religious, named Fr. Gonzalvus, in the church of St. James, to hear the confession of a certain Cleric, brought there from Rome from the Jubilee b, and lying down to die; and to tell him to trust in the merits of the holy Infante Ferdinand; At Ceuta a Cleric sick unto death is healed, who among the Moors had endured many hardships and had died in the Catholic faith. But after the departure of Fr. Gonzalvus, that Cleric, mindful of the counsel given him, with much devotion invoked the Saint; and at once rose up healed, and came to the monastery; where he found the aforesaid Friar praying, and recounted the miracle wrought upon him.

[122] another at Lisbon, At Lisbon it befell a certain good man, gravely sick, when he had no one to take care of him, to hear Fr. Rodericus, a Preacher c of the Lord Jesus at St. Dominic's, recounting how much the holy Infante had suffered; and to conceive such great trust in his merits that one night, going to bed, he most devoutly commended himself to him, and so fell asleep. But in the morning he found himself as healthy as if he had had no ailment. And when on a certain Friday Fr. Rodericus was about to preach, that man, who was his penitent, recounted to him the miracle wrought upon him, and Fr. Rodericus published the same in his sermon.

[123] On the first of June in the year 1451 there arrived at St. Irene Joannes Alvarez, In the year 1451 the Infante's intestines are brought, where King D. Alfonsus, the fifth of this name and nephew of the holy Infante, then was. He brought with him the heart and viscera, and the intestines taken from the body, in a wooden box, within and without covered with black Damascus, with gilded borders and nails. Now the aforesaid King ordered that Joannes Alvarez, and Joannes Ruiz the foster-brother of the Saint, should carry these Relics to Batalha, to the monastery of St. Dominic, surnamed of Our Lady of Victory, where is the sepulchre of the holy Infante and of his two Infante brothers, in the royal chapel, which D. João I of good memory, and D. Filippa their Queen, their parents, most sumptuously built. And when they had set out on the way, they found at Tomar d the Infante Henry, Governor of the equestrian Order called of Christ, by his brother D. Henry another brother of the holy Infante, who was intending his journey elsewhere. But, having ordered his beasts to be turned about, together with the aforesaid he went to the monastery named above; and there had those Relics placed as honorably as he could, upon the altar e of his sepulture, with torches and candles round about. Then he commanded Matins to be sung, with a Mass of many Martyrs before dawn: and it was then Thursday and the ninth f of June.

[124] When the Mass was finished, a solemn procession was arranged; and so Joannes Alvarez opened the box, and before all showed the Relics: they are carried to Batalha, and when he had locked it, he handed the key to D. Henry, who soon committed it to the Prior of the monastery of Batalha. Then the sepulchre was opened; and the Infante prostrated himself on his knees before the Relics; and having made a prayer, he took them in his hands, and carried them in the procession, and this finished, he placed them in the sepulchre, upon a bench clothed with red silk. and placed in his sepulchre. But about to withdraw thence, he again bent his knees, and having kissed them, ordered the sepulchre to be closed: meanwhile those who had made the procession singing the Responsory g of Martyrs, They have laid the dead bodies of your servants as food for the birds of the heaven, the flesh of your Saints for the beasts of the earth: they have poured out the blood of your Saints like water round about Jerusalem, and there was none to bury them: with its Versicle and the Prayer of the Martyrs. Finally the aforesaid Lord Infante left it ordained that, at this altar of his brother, daily out of his own alms a Mass should be sung; until the King should there found a perpetual chaplaincy, in memory of that virtuous Lord. h

[125] In the place called Pernes i it befell that on one of the hands of a certain potter's wife a great tumor grew; and grew so much that it hindered her spinning thread, and no less many other tasks. A great tumor on the hand, When weeping she complained of it to Beatrix Canes, wife of Alfonsus Ribeiro, and asked whether she knew any remedy for her; she suggested that with a devout heart she commend herself to the holy Infante D. Ferdinand; promising that, if she did this, she would experience help from the Lord. Hearing this, she returned to her house, and placed herself on her knees; the Infante being invoked, she is cured. and with tears invoking the Saint, she promised to bring to the church bread with a candle, in his honor. But when morning came, she found the tumor had vanished, leaving no sign of itself behind.

[126] The aforenamed Beatrix also testified; that, when there was the greatest dearth of wheat, wheat distributed to the poor in his name, when she had received from the storehouse some measures of it for the sustenance of her husband; she said that, on account of the merits of the holy Infante, to whom she commended herself whenever she found herself in any necessity; she would wish, out of the same grain, to give to the poor in alms two measures and a half. Now she measured the whole that she had received, and first those two and a half measures; then one measure which she would keep for herself. But after she had distributed those former ones among the needy, it happened that she had to measure again what remained, and found two and a half left over. nothing is found diminished. The same woman also recounted at other times many graces granted to her, on account of her great devotion toward the holy Infante:

and since they were of lesser importance, I have passed over describing them. k

NOTES OF D.P.

Ramos adds the following.

What happens today is this. At the same altar, and at the altars of the other Infantes, the brothers, and of the father and mother, the first Mass is read daily; and at the father's altar one is also sung, with a Responsory toward its end; besides the Offices which are performed in the Commemoration of the faithful departed, with much devotion. The Offices of the holy Infante Lord Ferdinand, however, are performed by the Religious of the monastery of Batalha, with choral copes of cloth of gold, just as on joyful festivals (for there are many precious ornaments there, which these Lords and other princely men gave to the place), although in the rest the proper rite of the Office of the dead is kept.

Ramos notes that these are the very words of John Alvarez: then he adds:

And I, who have labored for the new printing of this Chronicle, am an eyewitness of many miracles which befell certain sick Religious of the monastery of Batalha, who, commending themselves to this Saint, received their health, and to this day still live unharmed, and know well enough how many graces God confers on men through his merits: Several Religious of Batalha are healed when the saint is invoked.

in whose tomb there is an opening, through which the faithful insert a certain reed, that it may touch his body; and drawing it back, they apply it to their eyes and head. The same people, fitting their prayer-beads and reliquaries to the end of the said reed, send them in through the said opening; and as if sanctified by that contact, they preserve them most devoutly as Relics. So says he. Roman also adds the following miracle, but does not write whence he got it.

[A blind man, enlightened by the moisture dripping from the Infante's sarcophagus,] Three days after the holy Infante's body had been placed near the gate of the city of Fez, there came along the road leading thither a certain blind Moor, to ask for alms; and understanding that he was near the gate, he said to the boy who was his guide, "Lead me to where the Il di Soltan de Nazarani is" — which in our Castilian tongue is rendered, "the Son of the Christian King." To whom the boy said, "What does it matter to you, who are blind, whether you are farther from or nearer to that body?" On the contrary the blind man said, "Do what I say, and place me beneath it." And when he understood that he was where he wished; he raised up his blind eyes, and caught in them some drops of that moisture which was dripping from the body; and rubbing them with it, he immediately recovered his sight, and began to praise God, professing aloud that he held the faith of that Christian. He professes himself a Christian; As many as were present there, and saw what had been done, and heard what the Moor said, moved with great zeal and indignation, seized and dragged him to the King. But he confirmed his words, narrating in order whatever God had wrought in him through the merits of the holy Infante: and that so confidently, that no threats, made then and along the way, could move him from testifying to the truth. The King, seeing such a novelty, and so manifest a condemnation of his impiety, summoned a judge and handed him over to him; commanding that the matter be examined most severely. and therefore he is stoned But being asked how he believed this had happened to him, he answered magnanimously and with a Christian spirit, that he believed it had happened in that faith which the Infante had held, and in which he himself wished to die. When therefore the Moors saw that they were making no progress in drawing him away from such belief; they condemned him to death, and dragging him outside the city stoned him, calling him in contempt Cidique Fri, that is, "the Renegade Lord." But he died, steadfastly professing that faith in which the Saint had died. The Moors themselves, after so holy an end, performed solemn funeral rites for him; and over his tomb, which they themselves built anew near Fez, they erected a kind of hermitage, covered with white and blue tiles: and afterward over that same place they often saw a great brightness: He is held a Saint by the Moors themselves. nor can it be doubted that the baptism of fire, that is, of the Holy Spirit, supplied for the baptism of water: indeed he may be said to have been baptized in his own blood.

APPENDIX OF HIERONYMUS DE RAMIS

On the body brought from Africa into Lusitania.

Ferdinand, son of King John, in the Lerian diocese of Lusitania (B.)

FROM THE LUSITANIAN OF JOHN ALVAREZ

[127] After the death of the virtuous Infante Lord Ferdinand, while the Moors persevered in their obstinate hardness, The nephew of the Moorish King with which they detained his body at the gate of Fez; God permitted, for the increase of the Saint's grace and merits, that his Relics and his whole body should be transferred into the kingdom of Portugal, by the way which I shall now narrate. The King of Fez had in his house a noble youth, his nephew by a brother or sister, seventeen years old, of good character and upright in morals. This youth he held in no great esteem, nor took care to advance him; fearing lest at some time he might attempt something new, this man whom he saw to be most dear to all his household and on most friendly terms with them. But since the Moors, conscious of their own slight virtue, grieving that he was suspect to him, are by nature distrustful; it had come into the King's mind to believe that he had to fear from him the same thing which had befallen many before him in his nation; and therefore he began to be harsh to his nephew in many ways. The young man, marveling that the King's mind was so changed toward him, through no fault of his own, of which indeed he was conscious; never afterward wished to appear before him again. And since day and night he was agitated by no other care than the manner in which he might avenge the injury done to him; it came into his mind that he would achieve this, if he could steal the sarcophagus of the holy Infante with the body: for there was scarcely anything else which the King would bear more grievously.

[128] Having determined this within himself, he took counsel with two captives, how he might bring his thoughts into action; having carried off the holy body, he flees to Arzila; hoping that he would accomplish it, with the help of his Prophet Mahomet. The Christians indeed, having learned of this matter, were exceedingly glad, and did not doubt that such an intention had been instilled in the Moor by the will of God: and with him they determined, that on some dark and rainy night they would steal the sarcophagus, and flee with it to Arzila, which by then was in the power of the Christians: where with great solemnity the sacred pledge was received in procession; and it was soon decreed that it should be conveyed into Lusitania. To this the nephew of the King of Fez said, that he himself wished to perform this office toward the King of Lusitania, since with this intention he had exposed himself to so great a danger as it was to carry off that body from Fez. thence into Lusitania With him there set out on the way several nobles, leading with them those two Christian captives, together with the King's nephew, well furnished for the journey with equestrian array, and having in his company two valiant Moors from Marzaganos. And God mercifully favoring, they arrived happily in the bay of Lisbon: whence at once, by the consent of all, one of the captives was dispatched to King Alfonso, to report what had been done.

[129] a procession having been instituted That man was joyfully received, and through him it was established for certain that what was being brought were indeed the bones of the holy Infante: and he was sent back to the port, with a command to the nephew of the King of Fez and his companions, that they not stir; because the King himself wished to come there, and receive the bones of his uncle. He commanded, moreover, that continuously throughout the whole city and around it, by public proclamation all be invited to the procession, by which were to be brought into the city the bones of the most catholic Infante Ferdinand, who had died among the Moors. Such an announcement so moved everyone, that they hastened in eager rivalry to Lisbon. And when all had assembled there, the Prelates, Bishops, as far as Belém and Archbishops with the Clergy, as is wont to be done on the day of Corpus Christi; but with a much greater number of common people roused from every quarter, through the streets and squares adorned with rich array as far as the Metropolitan church, the King with his son Prince Lord John, and the whole court and nobility, with much joy and devotion, proceeded as far as Belém; and when the first had arrived there, the last were still at the gate of St. Catherine, on account of the excessive multitude of those processing; where a magnificent platform had been prepared, spread with a rich carpet and with many candles. c

[130] He meets the King; Now the nephew of the King of Fez had disembarked onto land, with the overseas nobility, gathered around the sarcophagus of the holy Infante; all of which, falling at the King's knees, kissed his hand, the Moorish Prince going first; whom the King received with great honor, nor would he allow him to kiss his hand: Prince John his son did the same. Then the King, who, receiving the sarcophagus on his shoulders, the sarcophagus being placed on the shoulders of his more honored subjects, began to follow with great devotion, not without the pious tears of many. Thus they came to the gate of St. Catherine, and there the venerable bier was set down upon that most ornate platform of which I spoke: and a sermon was begun, with words so aptly composed that abundant tears were drawn forth from those hearing the praises of so virtuous a Prince; for the delivery of which the orator took as his theme the words of Psalm 117, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." he carries it as far as the Metropolitan church. All ran together to the bier, and with the King's leave kissed the holy Relics; and he was reckoned slothful who came up last. d And the sermon being finished, the procession was resumed, with much greater devotion than it had been begun; until they reached the Metropolitan church, where the bier

the sacred bier was deposited in the place prepared for it, and the divine Offices were begun with great solemnity.

[131] The honors due to the holy Infante having been paid, the King withdrew to the city's Court, near the church of St. Dominic, with Prince John; and there in the place of the Fairs began a game of canes, in most beautiful order; in which the nephew of the King of Fez bore himself so nobly and brilliantly, that the King took much delight in watching it. Fearing, however, lest some misfortune should befall him, Jousts follow he had it said to him, that he would deign to leave the game: for it would grieve him much, if any harm should befall him. To whom the Moor had it answered, that he kissed the hands of his Highness, for this remembrance of him: but that he did not think any harm or dishonor could befall him from such good and honored Knights: and that he took much delight in that sport. The King therefore was unwilling to forbid him further: but the sport being finished he showed him much honor, and much honor is shown to the Moor: and said that he would account it a great favor, if for love of him he would become a Christian, intending to give him a wife, one of the chief of his court, whomever he should choose. But the young Moor answered, with much giving of thanks, that he was altogether resolved to return to Africa, to the King his uncle. Although King Alfonso bore this with grief, he nevertheless said that he wished to recompense the benefit done to him, in whatever matter should most please him.

[132] On the following day the King ordered bulls to be baited, in the new square of Lisbon, which was wholly sprinkled with sand; who, having also watched the bull-fights and many came forth to it beautifully equipped and to be distinguished by their devices: and in recreations of this kind several days were passed, until the Moorish Prince arranged his return to his own people. Before he departed, however, he said to the King: "I have greatly desired, Lord, to see your kingdom and court, on account of the widely diffused fame of your virtues: and therefore I devised this way which you see, by bringing you the bones of the most virtuous Prince Ferdinand; because I persuaded myself that by this means I would do you a great service: and now I truly see that I am much obliged to Mahomet, who gave me the means of serving so great a King in such a matter. I ask that, if there is anything else pleasing to you that I can do in my homeland, you not conceal it from me. and, the favor offered being refused if he would stay; For if before I knew you I so studiously sought to please you; much more readily shall I now do whatever you desire." The King, hearing the Moor speak thus, esteemed him the more, and answered: that he already accounted the service rendered to him and his present merit as very great: and that for his supreme love toward him, he again requested that, becoming a Christian, he take a wife in his court, intending to bestow whatever favors and graces he wished. Since, however, it stood fixed in him to depart, he neither wished nor was able to hinder him from acting according to his own judgment. He returns to Fez. These things being said so lovingly and graciously, the Moor kissed the hand of the much-reluctant King, and returned to his ship; and bidding farewell to the King and Queen and Prince John, he measured his journey back to Fez, honored by the King with many and precious gifts, and well content.

[133] These things being thus completed, the King ordered the funeral rites of his uncle the holy Infante to be renewed: The body is carried to the monastery of Batalha. and when he had done enough, as was fitting, for the soul of the deceased; he sent his bones to the monastery of Batalha of the Order of St. Dominic, which King John of good memory, his father, founded and gave to the Preaching Friars, in memory and in thanksgiving owed to God and the Virgin Mary, for the victory which he won there: where he himself also lies buried with the Infantes his sons, and other Kings and Princes. There the aforesaid bones were placed with great pomp and solemnity; and they lie there even now. But we believe that he himself, according to his works, has received in heaven eternal blessedness, just as on earth he obtains a glorious memory, to the praise of the Lord our God.

[134] A Chronological epitome of the whole history, The summary, then, of this Chronicle, and of the chief matters in it, is this. The Infante Lord Ferdinand, fifth-born of King John I, of good memory, departed from Lisbon with the fleet for the siege of Tangier, on the 22nd day of August 1437; and was given as a hostage on the 16th of October. He remained in captivity six years, and died in the region of the Moors at Fez in the year 1443, on the fifth day of June, on the fourth day of the week (Wednesday), after sunset, in the 41st year of his age. Of those nine servants whom he brought with him, there died in that same place Master John Martinus, the Physician; Ferdinand Aegidius, the Wardrobe-keeper; John Laurentius, the Quartermaster of the lodging; John de Lunna, the Baker; Christopher the German, the referendary, became a Moor at the persuasion of certain men of Alverca, and dwelt at Alverca. John Alvarez, and a recapitulation concerning the Infante's companions. the Secretary and author of this Chronicle, was ransomed for a certain Moor named Faquy Guismaym; and John Vazius, the prefect of the kitchen, for another Moor, whom John of Lisbon possessed, named Abdela: and both returned from captivity in the year 1448. Afterward John Alvarez himself was sent to Ceuta and Arzila, with the ransom which was demanded for John Rodericius, foster-brother of the holy Infante; and Peter Vazius, the Chaplain; whom he brought back in the year 1450. Finally, for John Rodericius, the other foster-brother of the Infante, eight Moors were given; just as for Peter Vazius the Chaplain two Moors and one Moorish woman had been given.

NOTES OF D.P.

An account concerning the Moorish Prince who stole the body, A.

That this Appendix is to be separated from the rest of the Chronicle, as added long afterward, is shown by the very different style of the Writer, who knows or cares neither to add the names of persons nor the notes of times, contrary to what John Alvarez, that most careful observer of such things, did. But neither does the beginning of this narrative deserve the highest credence. For who would believe that a youth, who had dared to despoil his uncle the King by stealthily carrying off so precious a pledge, because he found him unjust to himself and himself suspect to him; would have wished to return to him; and indeed from the court of that King who had snatched Arzila and Tangier from him? and thus he ought certainly to have persuaded himself that he would be received and treated no otherwise than as a traitor. A more probable narrative, therefore, seems to be that which Hieronymus Roman, from Ludovicus Marmol in his description of Africa, and Didacus de Torres in the History of the Sharifs, thus sets forth, and which the Chronicle of Alfonso V confirms.

it is more probable. They say that Muley Sheikh Oatacius, Lord of Arzila, called by his proper name Sayd, seeing Abdulacus slain by the Sharif of Fez, conceived a hope of seizing the kingdom, and gathering an army besieged Fez itself. But when Alfonso had learned this; he undertook, they say, that famous expedition of the year 1471, by which he stormed Arzila itself by a sudden assault, because, Arzila having been captured by the Lusitanians in the year 1471, although not without the expenditure of much and distinguished blood: and Muley indeed, the siege of Fez having been lifted for the time, hastened to Arzila, where he had left his wife and children: but arriving too late, he made a truce with the Lusitanian; and for the recovery of his people, who were held captive, he bargained the bones of the holy Infante, to be restored as soon as he should have occupied Fez: and the city being occupied, he did what he had promised; and through his son Muley Valsaca he restored the body, which then Didacus de Barros, a Knight of the King's household, brought to Lisbon.

In this account Oatacius is distinguished from the Sharif: who, if both founded a line, of which the former, the Oatacii having been driven from Fez, recovered the kingdom: while Muley besieges Fez, it may be that some nephew of the Sharif, wearied of his uncle's rule, deserted to Oatacius, who was staying not at Arzila but in his camp, with the pious theft, by means of which the latter could without difficulty recover his wife and children, captured at Arzila by Alfonso: and the agreements being made, the same royal youth, together with the son of Oatacius — still free, because he had followed his father into the camp — brought the sacred body to Arzila: a deserting prince may have brought the body to him whence the aforementioned Valsaca received and brought back his mother and brothers: but the Sharif's nephew, led by a desire to see Lusitania, followed the aforementioned Didacus; and so the rest related in the Appendix came about; the Moor, however, returned, not to his uncle, to whom he was hateful, but to Sayd Oatacius, ruling at Fez; [and it may have been handed over to the Lusitanians, in exchange for the wife and children of Muley.] who bore the loss of Arzila and Tangier more mildly, because for the establishing of a new kingdom among a treacherous people, against the Sharif and his children, it seemed exceedingly necessary to cultivate peace with the Lusitanians. However it may have been, I come now to illustrate the Appendix, such as it is, with suitable notes.

COROLLARY TO THE FIFTH DAY OF JUNE

ON THE THREE HOLY DOROTHEI: THE THEBAN, THE ARCHIMANDRITE, AND THE YOUNGER.

PRELIMINARY COMMENTARY.

Dorotheus the Theban, in Egypt (S.)

BY THE AUTHOR C. J.

§ I. These three are distinguished from one another by reason of the time and place in which they lived.

[1] It was disputed a little before concerning St. Dorotheus, ascribed to the 5th of June in the Ecclesiastical tables, From the holy Dorothei, the Bishop of Tyre and the Presbyter of Antioch, whether he was the Bishop of Tyre, or only a Presbyter; the authors of these times making him, some a Bishop, others a Presbyter, most asserting there was only one Dorotheus. We, however, having examined and compared the older notices, judge that the one is to be distinguished into two, who lived at the same time of Diocletian; the one Bishop of Tyre, the other only Presbyter of Antioch; distinct from one another, although this Antiochene also dwelt at Tyre, having obtained some public office from Diocletian, to whom he was dear; as is said at greater length above in our Commentary on St. Dorotheus the Bishop. But we also distinguish there a third of the same name from these two, namely the author of the Booklet which contains the Lives of the Apostles and Disciples of Christ, and also from the author of the Synopsis, and which is generally entitled the Synopsis of Dorotheus. On which matter you may see more in the aforementioned Commentary, and in the Notes of the Roman Martyrology on the 5th of June. See also what I discussed at length concerning the ineptitude of the aforesaid Synopsis, in the Commentary on St. Metrophanes Bishop of Constantinople, on the day before this. Finally, from the three aforementioned, as well as from the three now to be appended, must necessarily be distinguished St. Dorotheus the Martyr, who suffered with St. Gorgonius at Nicomedia under Diocletian; concerning whom Eusebius in book 8, chapter 6, and

the Roman Martyrology on the 9th of September; when we too shall treat of him, and shall clearly show him to be distinct from Dorotheus the Presbyter of Antioch, against Blondellus, who would have both to be one undistinguished person; deceived not only by the similarity of name, and from the Martyr Eunuch but chiefly because he read in Eusebius that both were Eunuchs, and both dear to Diocletian. But these things do not stand in the way of the distinction.

[2] Three other holy Dorothei are also distinguished; There could likewise be distinguished from the aforesaid several other Dorothei, and chiefly three, distinguished for integrity and holiness of life; were they not sufficiently distinct by the very time in which they lived. These Dorothei are: the first indeed the Theban, as he is called by Palladius in the Lausiac History, chapter 2. The second is the author of the Institutions or ascetic doctrines, and is surnamed the Archimandrite. The third finally, himself also an Archimandrite, is called the Younger (namely in respect to the one just mentioned), or "in Chiliocomus," from the place of his exercise, in which he both founded a monastery by divine command, and shone with the glory of holiness and miracles. The first, or the Theban, began to inhabit a cave in the 28th year of the 4th century, and was a contemporary of Dorotheus the Bishop of Tyre, of whom above; of whom the first was an old man in the year 388, and he was in the thirty-fourth year in his cave, when that Bishop received the crown of martyrdom under Julian, in the year of the common era 362; since indeed in the second consulate of Theodosius the Great, that is, in the year of the Christian era 388, the Theban was spending his 60th year in his cave, when Palladius was handed over to his discipline by Isidore the Presbyter, to be trained for three years in the monastic Life; as he himself testifies concerning himself in chapters 1 and 2 of the Lausiac history.

[3] By at least two whole centuries later than Dorotheus the Theban is the Archimandrite, whom those have undoubtedly confused with the Theban, the second, badly confused with the first, who would have him to have lived and written in the 4th century, in the Library of the ancient Fathers, edited at Cologne in the year 1618: as also Allegraeus confuses them in the Mirror of Carmelite glory; he doubts, however, whether they are distinct from each other; and if they are; he refers both to the year of Christ 400. Evagrius supplies us with surer foundations of Chronology, in his Ecclesiastical history, book 4, chapter 33, from the age of St. Barsanuphius in Evagrius where he speaks of Barsanuphius the Egyptian, who in a certain monastery near the town of Gaza performed very many miracles; and was believed (when Evagrius was writing in the year 594) to be still alive, shut up in a cell; although fifty and more years had now passed since he had neither been seen by anyone, nor tasted anything earthly. And when Eustochius, the Prelate of Jerusalem, believed these things to be false, and had ordered the little cell in which the man of God had shut himself up to be dug through, a fire leaping forth thence burned up almost all who were present. But take Evagrius' very text: "Barsanuphius, an Egyptian by race, lived a fleshless life in the flesh, in a certain monastery near the town of Gaza; so that he both worked many marvels beyond memory, and was believed even to be alive, shut up in a little house, although for fifty and more years he had neither been seen by anyone, nor had partaken of anything upon the earth. Doubting which, Eustochius the president of Jerusalem, when he resolved to dig through the little house, the man of God was not shut up there, and a fire leaping forth nearly burned up all those present." Nicephorus Callistus transcribed almost the same word for word in book 17, chapter 22, except that he puts Salustius for Eustochius, but wrongly: both because he contradicts Evagrius, who lived in the same century as the Patriarch Eustochius and the Emperor Justinian, and could have seen both, and so ought to be of the highest authority here; and because he contradicts himself, since he expressly asserts that Barsanuphius flourished under Justinian; and yet would have Salustius the Bishop of Jerusalem come to perforate the little house where the holy man was shut up: namely the man who, after the seventh year of his Episcopate, had died in the year of Christ 393, before Justinian took up the empire, fully 34 years.

[4] [It is more rightly established that he lived at the close of the 6th century than at its beginning;] Wherefore from Evagrius, writing in the 12th year of Tiberius, that is of Christ 594, as we said, it must be established; that Barsanuphius was born toward the end of the 5th century, and about the year 540 shut himself up in his cell; and there, lying hidden for fifty and more years, lived on to the times in which Evagrius was writing. And this chronology concerning St. Barsanuphius I think is to be preferred to that which our Predecessors followed for his life on the 11th of April, establishing that he died at the beginning of the 6th century. Now indeed Dorotheus the Archimandrite, according to the testimony of his disciple in the life of St. Dositheus, when he withdrew to the monastery of the Abbot Seridus, found there … two excellent great old men, the most holy Barsanuphius and Abbot John the Prophet. Dorotheus found Barsanuphius already an old man then, when he entered the monastery; so that the latter must already by then have been shut up in his cell for some time. Let us suppose, therefore, that he had been shut up twenty years, and that Dorotheus had been born just as many years before, when the latter embraced the monastic life: and it will follow from our earlier chronology, that Barsanuphius was then nearly seventy years old, so that he might rightly be called an old man; but that Dorotheus was brought into the light about the year 540: to whom if you give moreover sixty years of age, he must be said to have lived to the year of Christ six hundredth: if you should think anything beyond sixty years is to be added to his age, just as much must be added to the six hundredth of Christ. Nor do the letters of the Clergy of Apamea deter me from that opinion, the epistle of the Clergy of Apamea proving nothing to the contrary, which in the commentary on the Life of St. Barsanuphius, cited at number 4, seem to have moved its Illustrators. For although the Clergy of Apamea, in letters given to the Bishops of Syria, concerning the enormity of the excesses with which their Church was burdened by Peter, the heretical Bishop (which letters were produced in the first Session of the Council of Constantinople, and were written about the year 517) — although, I say, the Clergy of Apamea complain, among other things, that with armed bands of criminals he made an assault upon the monastery of St. Dorotheus; nevertheless it remains obscure of what St. Dorotheus they are here speaking. Nothing certainly compels us to understand our Archimandrite, the disciple of Barsanuphius, the Monk of Abbot Seridus, whose monastery is known to have been near Gaza; so that it may seem strange that he, when he departed thence, should have wished to seek for himself a new monastery near Apamea, nearly a hundred leagues distant from Gaza.

[5] Thus far, by reason of time, the Dorothei, the Theban and the Archimandrite, appear most distinct; who are confused by most; they will appear even more distinct, from the very Acts which we subjoin. Dorotheus the Younger lived at the beginning of the 11th century. Nor can there be any doubt that Dorotheus the Younger is different from them. For it is established that he lived far later than they (to say nothing of the epithet "Younger") from the age of the one who wrote his Life. This man indeed, as will be said in §3, flourished in the time of Constantine Monomachus, who held the empire about the middle of the 11th century: and he himself sufficiently indicates, as will be seen in §2, that he had been a Monk under Dorotheus: whence finally it is concluded that Dorotheus was among the living at the beginning of the 11th century.

[6] The Dorothei dwelt; the first near Alexandria. Now indeed their places of contest no less prove them to be different. The Theban indeed had his very near to Alexandria in a cave, and in it exercised himself for 60 years and more. For so Palladius testifies, when at the beginning of the Lausiac History he says that he was led by Isidore the Presbyter outside the Alexandrian city, to those that are called the eremitical Cells, about the fifth milestone from the city; and there was handed over to a certain Dorotheus, a Theban ascetic, then in his sixtieth year in a cave. the second near Gaza, Far from there did Dorotheus the Archimandrite begin the monastic life, namely in the monastery of Abbot Seridus, where he also for five years duly instructed Dositheus in ascetic discipline, and thence sent him to the heavenly ones: nor is it anywhere read that he hid himself in a cave: indeed neither could he hide himself, certainly he cannot have lain hidden for 60 years. For as long as he was a Monk with Abbot Seridus, he was applied by him to public duties: but after he acted separately as Archimandrite, he seems even less able to have lain hidden. For what has such a man to do with the solitude of a cave? which his frequent disciples scarcely allowed him to inhabit, whom he governed, and whom by his instructions and doctrines he repeatedly incited to virtue. Meanwhile, in what place the monastery was which the Archimandrite himself governed, is plainly unknown.

[7] the third near the Euxine Sea Finally Dorotheus the Younger, most remote both from Alexandria and from Gaza, inhabited the Euxine Sea, both before and after taking up the monastic state; inasmuch as he passed his youth at Trebizond in his native soil, but at Amisus in the monastery of Genna he spent a great part of the monastic life; thence he was transferred by divine prompting to a neighboring mountain, and was ordered there to raise up a new monastery from the ancient ruins; which the author of the life calls Chiliocomus, prefixing to it such a title, "Life and conduct of our holy Father Dorotheus the Younger, that is, of him who lived in Chiliocomus" (Allatius writes "Chiliocomus" in the Diatribe). And Chiliocomus is a place not very far distant from Amisus, a city of Pontus. For from Genna, having been sent somewhere on business by his Abbot, he does not seem to have made much of a journey, when, having suffered the ecstasies of which in the Life numbers 7 and 8, he was ordered to build up the monastery, or rather to restore the ancient one.

§ II. On their cult and Lives, and the authors of these, and why they are given in this place. Also on two other Dorothei, Abbots.

[8] It is not established that these Dorothei were publicly venerated, Concerning these three Dorothei, which you may wonder at, neither the Menaea or Synaxaria of the Greeks, nor the Calendars or Martyrologies of the Latins, hand anything down to us; so that it cannot be affirmed for certain that they ever had a public cult: although it may be presumed that the two Archimandrites had it (at least each in his own monastery) both on account of their known virtues, visions, miracles; and on account of the title of Saint, formerly attributed to each. The like must be said of the Theban, who himself also is read to have had his disciples, and is known to have led a life in the highest austerity; it is nevertheless probable on account of the title of Saint added to them. and who is also called a Saint by Palladius, and is referred among the Saints, with a compendium of his life, by Peter de Natalibus in the Catalogue of Saints, composed more than 300 years ago, but printed at Vicenza 200 years ago. Since these things are so; there seems to have prevailed some consensus of peoples concerning the holiness of those men, which in an ancient matter may suffice, that we too in this work may ascribe to them the same title of Saint.

[9] We shall give therefore their Acts, and those of the Theban indeed such as are described in the Lausiac history by Palladius, The Acts of the Theban are given from Palladius, an eyewitness, who, handed over to his discipline, observed his ways for some time, and inquired into his deeds: and these are the same

very nearly as may be read in Sozomen book 6, chapter 29, and in Nicephorus book 11, chapter 35. The proper Acts of the Archimandrite have hitherto become known to no posterity: a few things are narrated about him in the Epistle and Prologue prefixed to the Institutions; those of the Archimandrite collected by us, more are read in the Life of St. Dositheus his disciple; very many things he himself relates about himself in the Institutions themselves, which he sets forth to his disciples as it were domestic examples to be imitated. From all these we have collected and put together his Life (in which this very thing is more distinctly noted), just as the deeds presented themselves, no order of time being kept; content to have set forth at last his illustrious exploits and the monuments of his virtues to posterity, now at length, under a single view.

Finally the Acts of Dorotheus the Younger, those of the Younger translated from the Greek: drawn into the light from the coffers of the Vatican library, we now for the first time render from Greek into Latin; and we give them printed in both languages, so that in future they may also be read by those who know Latin only, to whom hitherto they were altogether unknown.

[10] No author of these Acts is noted in the Vatican Manuscript: the author of these is John Metropolitan of Euchaïta yet he is noted by Allatius, in the Diatribe on the writings of the Simeons, as John Metropolitan of Euchaïta; which indeed he must have drawn from another Manuscript. Now that John wrote not a few other Lives of Saints; and he himself, if he be truly the author of this life, must have written it before his Episcopate and have been a Monk, and indeed on that very mountain, where Dorotheus by heavenly admonition built his monastery. For this he hints throughout in the Life, when he says at number 8: The Saint used to walk at the foot of this hill, which now has this his monastery on its summit. And at number 10: He approaches the place designated by the vision, previously a monk, who seems to have been his disciple. which is this very one, widely visible from the neighborhood, and now feeds many Monks. Finally at number 19, concerning the Saint already dead; He will be, he says, benevolent toward us all, who are still surviving, and dwell in this exercise-ground of training. It is probable, therefore, that that Author, by his writings and learning, perhaps also by his virtues and fame of holiness, became renowned among the Monks, and was therefore translated thence to the Archiepiscopal See of Euchaïta in the province of Helenopontus; whose Prelate is numbered among the autocephalous, who are of their own right, and subject to no Metropolitan.

[11] Receive therefore the Acts of these three holy men, by way of a Corollary, on this day rather Since the proper day lies hidden, than on any other; for the reason that the proper day on which they died lies altogether hidden. For what Peter de Natalibus says of the Theban; He rested in peace on the 5th of the Ides of September, he could not have drawn from the Lives of the Fathers, like the rest of his narrative: since nothing about the time of his death is mentioned in those Lives. We must take refuge, therefore, rather in the synonymy of the name of Dorotheus of Tyre, whose name is read ascribed to the Roman Martyrology on this 5th day of June; the Lives are given on this day on account of the synonymy. lest we either seem too little fair to those Saints, by altogether excluding them from this Work; or, desiring to follow their footsteps, defraud them of such excellent examples and instructions. Receive then their Acts, and in the first place indeed those of the Theban, brief, as they are: then those of the Archimandrite, longer, and, as we said, collected: finally those of the Younger in Greek and Latin; in that order namely in which they lived.

[12] It is pleasing, however, to prefix to them two notable examples of two Dorothei, who are different from all the others, and are referred to by Palladius in the Lausiac History, chapters 36 and 97. Both are called Abbots by him; both proved a marvelous virtue of temperance; But two other Dorothei are prefixed here, the one indeed, when he presided over a monastery of three hundred women, by a new art providing for his own integrity; the other indeed, when he had some quantity of money offered to him, by rejecting it with a noble mind. Both were contemporaries of Dorotheus the Theban. Concerning the first Dorotheus the Abbot, therefore; after he had narrated how Abbot Elias had built a great monastery, and there gathered all the virgins who were straying; and they, brought to the number of three hundred from diverse manners of life and private custom, fought among themselves continually; and Elias himself bore the care of them in all things: when, I say, he had narrated these things, he continues thus:

[13] Dorotheus succeeded Elias in the government of that monastery, a most approved man; who grew old in a good life, which consists in action. of whom the one by a new art for his chastity, He, since he could not indeed bear the care of the monastery as that Blessed one (namely Elias, who had divinely obtained the gift of chastity) nor had he stayed in that cell: shut himself up in the upper room in the very monastery; and made a window, which looked toward the monastery of the women, which he closed and opened. Perpetually therefore he sat by the window, taking care that the quarrels among them should cease. And thus he grew old in the upper room; since neither could anyone ascend up, nor could he descend: for there were no stairs standing. This is the religious life of the blessed Dorotheus, adorned with virtues; this the end of that life.

[14] Then concerning the other Dorotheus the Abbot, treating in chapter 97, when he had said, the other by a noble contempt provided for religious poverty. that around the city of Antinoë in the region of the Thebaid many anchorites had shut themselves up in the caves of the rocks, and among them Abbot Solomon had spent fifty years in a cave, he subjoins the following: There was also a certain Dorotheus, a Presbyter, dwelling in another cave; who himself also lived an unblemished life in the highest goodness, and was held worthy of the Presbyterate, and ministers to the Brothers who are in the caves. To him once Melania the younger, niece of the great Melania, sent five hundred solidi, asking him to minister to the Brothers. But he, having taken only three, sent the rest to Diocles the Anchorite, a man endowed with the highest knowledge, saying: There is a wiser Brother than I, Diocles, and he can dispense them wholly and innocently, as one who knows better than I those to whom help should rightly be brought: for these suffice for me. Now that this Dorotheus is different from the Theban, of whom presently, although both inhabited a cave; is clear even from the distance of the caves alone; for the former had his around Antinoë, the latter around Alexandria.

§ III. The author of the Life of Dorotheus the Younger: his writings and the Archiepiscopal see of Euchaïta are set forth and illustrated.

[15] I had written the preceding Paragraph, assigning from Allatius as the author of the Life of Dorotheus the Younger John Metropolitan of Euchaïta; John Metropolitan of Euchaïta, and I turned my whole mind every way, by which I might draw out from somewhere from the darkness something about that Author, and about the age in which he lived; intending easily then from this knowledge to define the age of Dorotheus the Younger. I go therefore to Allatius in the Diatribe on the writings of the Simeons; and I find repeatedly the name of the Author, and the beginnings of some of his monuments produced; but about his life and age nothing. I go to our Simon Wangnereck; in the Prolegomena to the Marian Piety of the Greeks; and I see at number 25 that John Euchaïta the Hymnographer was known to him, known to the Latins by name only, but that he had not yet found anything about his age or life, which he was confident he could prove to learned men. I go finally to Maracci in the Marian Library; but I observe that he is occupied no more happily in inquiring into the age of John than the two aforementioned. That glory was owed, namely, to the Library of the Most August Caesar Leopold, that thence should first come into the light, what the unwearied studies and labors of so many learned men long sought in vain.

[16] It becomes known more clearly from the Imperial Library. When therefore in the year 1688 we were spending the summer at Vienna, and often searched through the Library, ever open to us by the kindness of Caesar and the ready service of the most noble Lord Daniel de Nessel the court Librarian; we came also to the knowledge of a certain paper Codex, of not very ancient writing, which once, like many others, is learned to have belonged to the famous Sebastian Tengnagel from his own inscription, and contains the nearly sacred poems, 102 in number, of John alone, of whom we treat, the Euchaïte, composed in Iambic verse on various matters. At the front of the Codex this title is read, adorning the author with the praise of holiness: "A monument of our Father among the saints, John, Metropolitan of Euchaïta." Then it sets forth a compendium of his life, hitherto to the Latins (indeed even to the Greeks themselves almost) unknown, as we saw.

[17] "The Life. He lived under the Emperor of the Romans Constantine Monomachus, and Zoe the Empress. And the years from then amount to five hundred sixty-four. And being a most prudent and most holy man, he composed many of his discourses, and epistles and Iambic verses, and many other things worthy of word and grace, and educated many men, being filled with the grace of the all-holy Spirit." setting forth his age and a compendium of his life, The Life: John lived under the Roman Emperor Constantine Monomachus and the Empress Zoe. From then on the years extend to five hundred sixty-four (to the time, I think, in which that writer lived). But since he excelled especially in wisdom and holiness of life, he composed many orations, and epistles, and Iambic verses, and many other things, worthy to be praised and held welcome: he moreover piously educated many men, as one filled with the grace of the Holy Spirit.

[18] written by Andreas Darmarius, The writer of the aforesaid Codex is noted to have been a certain Andreas Darmarius the Epidaurian, whose same name is read inscribed on other Codices in the Imperial Library, and especially on the one hundred seventy-second among the Theological ones; where, with the name slightly changed, he is called at the end of the book "Andreas Tarmarus the Epidaurian": his age too is there indicated, by the year of Christ 1560 ascribed. Now this Andreas, as he was the writer of the aforesaid Codex, so he seems to have been the author of the appended Compendium of the Life, and indeed the first: for in reckoning in it the years which passed between Constantine Monomachus and his own age, he himself must either have written that compendium first or abridged it. That he nevertheless puts a somewhat greater number of years to have passed than the now-received chronology allows; may have happened from the lack of accurate knowledge of the time in which Monomachus reigned. He may also himself have written the Codex, of which we here chiefly treat, long after that one, to which he noted the year 1560. Certainly something must be conceded either to error, or ignorance, or carelessness. For from the death of Constantine Monomachus down to the year 1560, there elapsed only 506 years, while Andreas meanwhile puts 564 years. However it be with the meaning of the writer Andreas; in this at least he did not err, John lived under Constantine Monomachus; that he asserts that John Metropolitan of Euchaïta (whom I also read to be called Mauropous) lived under Constantine Monomachus. For this is drawn out from the writings of John himself; inasmuch as in three of his poems, namely the 74th, 87th, and 88th in the Imperial Codex, he treats of Constantine as

living praiseworthily, and affirms that his image is preserved at Euchaïta.

[19] Thus far concerning the man himself, little known to the Latins. Now concerning his writings, even less known, his writings are reviewed it will be useful to treat briefly, and especially to indicate those which the Imperial Library supplies in Manuscript. There is there, in Codex 204 among the Theological ones, of John Metropolitan of Euchaïta: An Oration on the three holy Fathers Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian or Nazianzen, and John Chrysostom. Codex 211, from which we have already drawn the compendium of the life, exhibits more than a hundred poems, mostly of sacred subject, composed in Iambic verse. from the Imperial Library Codex 299 contains his Little Works, namely the Paracletic Canons (which it is permitted to interpret as consolatory Songs) to our Lord and God Jesus Christ: and they are twenty-four in number, and each has its own Acrostic. It contains then two other similar Canons to our same Lord; and a third to the guardian Angel: of which the former are without, the latter with an Acrostic. There follow soon to our most holy Lady the Mother of God 67 Canons, and to St. John the Forerunner eleven Canons. Finally Codex 309 comprises some Canons to Christ, of which the first has prefixed such an acrostic, "First I bring my song to thee, Word of God, the monk John."

[20] And these four Codices are now of the Imperial Library, brought there by two men eminent in zeal and learning, Belgians by nation, Augerius Busbeck and Sebastian Tengnagel. And the two hundred eleventh indeed, with several others, Tengnagel brought there; but the other three, with more than two hundred others, Busbeck brought, having studiously sought out and procured them in Greece, when he was undertaking an embassy for the Most August Caesar Ferdinand I at Constantinople. But I shall do something worthwhile, if I add to these the title of the Canons to the Mother of God, of which in Codex 299, as it is there read, for recognizing the author himself more distinctly. "Paracletic Canons to our most holy Lady the Mother of God. A poem of John the monk, by the surname Mauropous or Black-foot, who in later times became Archbishop of Euchaïta; whose name too is inserted in the Acrostic of every ninth Ode." Paracletic Canons to our most holy Lady the Mother of God. A poem of John the Monk, surnamed Mauropous or Black-foot, who in his last times became Archbishop of Euchaïta; whose name too is inserted in the Acrostic of every ninth Ode.

[21] There can be added to the cited writings of the Euchaïte those which Allatius notes in the Diatribe on the Simeons, and the Diatribe of Allatius. producing the beginning and title of each in Greek; namely, Orations on the feast of the holy Angels. On the holy Dormition of the most holy Mother of God. On the memory of the holy Great-Martyr Theodore. On the memory of the holy Martyr Theodore the Recruit, or "on the flowering." On the memory of the holy Martyr Theodore, or "of the Foot-soldier." On the three holy Prelates Basil, Chrysostom, and Gregory: likewise another oration on the same, of which the former is the same as the one cited from the Imperial library, the latter different from it. Besides these, orations on the memory of the holy martyr Eusebia at Euchaïta. On the memory of the great Triumpher after the celebrated three days of Easter. On the day of the memory of the great Triumpher, and on a miracle recently done among the barbarians. Finally the Life, which we set forth below, of our holy Father Dorotheus the Younger, or "of him in Chiliocomus." And let it suffice to have noted these his writings, indicated by Allatius; like the foregoing, contained in the Imperial Codices. We desire, however, that it be indicated to the Reader who loves the glory of the Saints, that the aforesaid orations of the Metropolitan, on St. Eusebia, and on both Theodores, are greatly wanting to us.

[22] But indeed it pleases Lambeck to raise a grammatical question too, Is "Euchaïta" to be declined in the singular number or the plural? whether it should be said "Euchaïtarum" or "Euchaïtorum"? and he judges that, from the Greek termination, the latter manner of speaking is to be preferred to the former. But I have thought nothing should be changed in the locution already received among the Latins; and I have preferred to call John the Bishop "of Euchaïta" (Euchaitarum) rather than "of Euchaïta" (Euchaitorum); especially since, in addition to the usage of the Latins, even the authority of the Greeks, who often inflect the same name by their second declension (although more often by the third). For I read in the printed Menaea, on the 8th day of February, it is shown that both are possible: "in Euchaïta" (en tais Euchaïtais), and on the 8th of June "in Euchaïta" (en Euchaïta). Likewise in the Manuscript Menology of the Emperor Basil, narrating on the 8th day of June about St. Theodore, that his Relics were deposited "in Euchaïta near Euchaïta" (en Euchaïa plēsion Euchaïtōn). Add Zonaras, writing in the matter of John Zimisces, "in the region of Euchania or Euchaïta." Cedrenus too, in the same Zimisces, calls the same place "Euchaneia." Why then should not the same word "Euchaïta" be under one termination of the singular as well as the plural number, and be inflected by the first as well as the second declension of the Latins; just as it is known to be done in the names of cities Solyma, Gangra, and others. What also forbids saying that the word "Euchaïta" in the singular number, or even taken as a gentile name. is the gentile name of a people, inhabiting the city of Euchaïta; just as from cities not very far removed from Euchaïta are derived these gentile names, Cypasita, Zelita, Berita; to say nothing of the more remote, Ascalonita, Bethlehemita, and six hundred others? Of this opinion certainly was someone in our Manuscripts, who writes "in Euchaïta" (en tois Euchaitais). But these things must be left to the Grammarians. Let us investigate more closely the city Euchaïta itself and its situation.

[23] It is an ancient Episcopal city That there was an ancient Episcopate at Euchaïta, and that it was certainly subject to a Metropolitan, we learn from the Nilian Charter, as they call it, very ancient, in Labbé tome 2 of the Councils, column 55, where among other Bishops who were present at the first Council of Nicaea, there is also numbered "Epiphanius, unworthy Bishop of the city of Euchaïta, of the province of the Eleliotae, having defined, I subscribed": Epiphanius, unworthy Bishop of the city of Euchaïta, of the province of the Eleliotae, defining, I subscribed. But what the province of the Eleliotae is, or where, I have not yet been able to ascertain, unless you will have it so written by error, for "of the Helenopontines," thereafter made autocephalous, of Helenopontus, as another Euchaïtan Bishop Epiphanius likewise subscribed in the third Council of Constantinople of Labbé's collection, tomes 6 and 4. In the course of time that same city became more renowned, and was made, as we said, Archiepiscopal; and in Charles of St. Paul, in two tables of ancient notices, it is numbered among the Autocephalous, which are of their own right, and subject to no Metropolitan, and in both places it is placed in the province of Helenopontus. Hence one may gather that Ferrarius greatly erred, in the New Topography to the Roman Martyrology, most remote from Heraclea, when, describing Heraclea Pontica, he makes Euchaïta a city next to it. For Heraclea, situated in the province of Honorias, and indeed in its most remote part, is separated from Euchaïta not only by the whole extent of its own province, broad as it is; but also by Paphlagonia, which lies between Honorias and Helenopontus. Truer things are had by the Manuscript Latin Acts of the martyrdom of St. Theodore the Recruit, of which we have four copies, drawn from various Libraries; and they all unanimously say that the noble matron Eusebia transferred the body of the holy Martyr into her own possession, which is distant from the city of Amasia by a journey of one day, but near to Amasia; to a place which is called Euchaïta. Amasia lies in the extreme eastern part of Helenopontus by the river Iris: hence therefore if, going to any other region whatever of this same province by a journey of one day, you are compelled to stop in the evening, you would arrive between the aforesaid rivers Iris and Halys; and so between the same you may also place Euchaïta.

[24] The Greek Manuscript Life of St. Barbara, which we recently drew out from the Imperial Library, would also bring clearer light to these, if the boundaries of the distance were better known. That Life has at the beginning: "There was in the Eastern region, called Heliopolis, a certain man, dwelling in a place named Gelaseis, about twelve miles distant from Euchaïta." There was in the Eastern region, and nearer to Gelaseis and Heliopolis: which is called Heliopolis, a certain man, dwelling in a place named Gelaseis, about 12 miles distant from Euchaïta. It has again at the end, where it treats of the burial of SS. Barbara and Juliana, whose sacred bodies Valentinus, carefully committing to burial, placed in a place which is called Heliopolis, near an island in the village of Gelaseis, in a venerable dwelling, about 12 miles from Euchaïta. The Greek is: "Valentinus, carefully burying their precious relics, deposited them in a place called Heliopolis, near the island in the village of Gelaseis, in a holy dwelling, about twelve miles from Euchaïta." We have here Euchaïta, we have Gelaseis, we have Heliopolis: but the situation of these uncertain, but the situation of all is uncertain, so that none of them can be determined from the others. Heliopolis indeed is very well known and very various; but none which seems able to make for this purpose has hitherto become known. The one which can be nearest, is placed by Ortelius, from Michael Glycas, in Phrygia; but this (whether you understand the lesser or the greater) how far it is distant from Helenopontus and Amasia.

[25] Euchaïta moreover held its name down to the reign of John Zimisces, who in the year 969 was created Emperor. The chief glory of his Empire was the victory which he won over the Russians on the day sacred to St. Theodore the General, the same Saint favoring, and seen by many on a horse defending the Romans, and throwing into confusion the phalanxes of the barbarians, as Zonaras testifies. Wherefore the Emperor, the same called Theodoropolis, in order to render thanks to the Martyr for the service rendered, built him a most elegant temple at Euchania or Euchaïta, the old one having been destroyed; in which his body, having ended many contests, had been placed; and the city, the old name being abolished, he called Theodoropolis. This appellation, however, did not so abolish the old name that it was not also afterward in some use for at least a whole century, namely down to the times of John Mauropous, whom we saw above to be inscribed everywhere as Metropolitan of Euchaïta.

[26] Nor indeed was the city of Euchaïta honored only with the Relics of the Theodore the General and Martyr just mentioned, adorned with Relics, (whom it had itself first brought into the light, then after his glorious death received his sacred body, and preserved it with honor in a temple built to his name) but also with the Relics and temple of the other Theodore the Soldier, commonly called the Recruit, crowned with martyrdom a little before that one; and it propagated the fame of the miracles wrought in it so widely, that it too came to be among the more celebrated places, to which Christian piety was wont to go on pilgrimage. This is attested by the example of John the Anchorite in Moschus, in the Spiritual Meadow chapter 180, enumerating the celebrated places, to which this man used to go from Palestine by a fairly long journey, now indeed to Ephesus to St. John, frequented by pilgrimages. now to Euchaïta to St. Theodore, now to St. Thecla in Seleucia of Isauria, now to St. Sergius in Saraphas. Adorned therefore with such Saints, decorated with such temples, frequented with such pilgrimages, Euchaïta may have deserved to be erected into an Archiepiscopal see, and to be governed by an autocephalous Prelate.

LIFE OF ST. DOROTHEUS THE THEBAN,

By the author Palladius, Bishop of Helenopolis, an eyewitness.

From the Lives of the Fathers, book 8.

Dorotheus the Theban, in Egypt (S.)

[1] Isidore the Presbyter and Keeper of the Guest-house, when I had come to

him as a young man (Palladius speaks of himself) and was asking, Palladius brought to Dorotheus, to be enrolled for the monastic life, my age still being wanton, and not having need of words, but of labors which might subdue the flesh, and of a hard and harsh manner of living which might restrain the body; Isidore, I say, like a good tamer of colts, led me outside the city, to those that are called the eremitical Cells, about the fifth milestone from the city; and handed me over to a certain Dorotheus, a Theban ascetic, then in his sixtieth year in a cave; and ordered me to complete three years with him, for the taming of the disturbances of the soul (for he knew that the old man led a very hard and harsh life) and after I should have completed the number of years, for the taming of the disturbances of the soul, he commanded that I should again return to him, for the remaining spiritual doctrine. But since I could not complete with him the number of three years, because I had fallen into a severe illness, I departed from him before the appointed time. For his manner of life was by far the harshest, squalid and utterly arid.

[2] For the whole day, and indeed in the very heat of midday, he marvels at his endurance of labors, in the solitude which is by the sea, he gathered stones, and always building from them and making cells, he yielded them to those who could not build, each year making a cell. But when I had once said to this Saint: What are you doing, Father, in such old age killing your poor little body with intolerable heats? He answered me, saying: It kills me, I too will kill it. And he ate each day six ounces of bread, and a little bundle of small herbs: and his food but of water he drank a little. And I call God to witness, that I never knew him stretching out his feet, nor sleeping on purpose on a couch or upon a bed: but sitting through the whole night, and the sparingness of his sleep, he wove rope from the branches of palms, that from it he might prepare his food. But when I suspected that he used such extreme exercise only while I was present; I inquired, that I might know whether he used it perpetually, I asked of several of his disciples, observed by the old man from his youth who themselves also remained afterward apart, bearing themselves rightly and virtuously. These told me, that from his youth he so ordered his life, never sleeping on purpose; except that while working or eating he sometimes closed his cast-down eyes; so that often even the bread fell from his mouth at the time of eating, on account of his excessive drowsiness.

[3] who, water infected by an asp But when I once compelled this Saint to lie down a little upon a mat, taking it ill he said to me: If you ever persuade the Angels to sleep, then you will also persuade one zealous for virtue. And on a certain day he sent me to his well, to fill the jar, which he used at the meal, when the hour of taking food was at hand. But it happened that when I had approached, I saw down in the well an asp, and out of fear I would by no means draw the water; but running back I announced it to him, saying: We are perished, Abba; for I saw an asp below in the well. But he, smiling graciously (since he had great regard for me) and shaking his head, said: signs it with the sign of the cross and drinks it unharmed. If it should seem good to the devil to cast serpents and asps into every well, or tortoises and other poisonous animals into all the fountains of waters; will you remain never drinking? And he himself, going out of the cell, when he had drawn it by himself, drank fasting, having first fortified the water with the sign of the Cross, and having said: Where the Cross is present, there the wickedness of the devil is without strength.

LIFE OF ST. DOROTHEUS THE ARCHIMANDRITE

Collected from various sources, especially his own writings.

Dorotheus the Theban, in Egypt (S.)

BY THE AUTHOR C. J.

CHAPTER I.

His holiness and writings, a compendium of his life, his literary studies.

[1] The order of things to be set forth in this chapter 1. About to collect the deeds of St. Dorotheus the Archimandrite, concerning whom in the preliminary Commentary several things have been said, we set forth first in this Chapter a compendium of his whole life, praiseworthily related in an Epistle to a Brother, who had requested that the discovered Sermons or ascetic Institutions of St. Dorotheus be sent to him, given by their discoverer, a disciple (as is gathered from the context) of the Saint himself. We prefix, however, to that Epistle a Prologue, on St. Dorotheus and his Institutions, of an ancient Author and probably a Studite Monk; which exhibits concerning his holiness and the integrity of his doctrine the most weighty testimony of two ancient Fathers, most distinguished alike in letters and piety, SS. Theodore the Studite and Tarasius Patriarch of Constantinople, distinguishing our Dorotheus from another of the same name, infected with the errors of Severus; and calling him orthodox, approved, holy. We subjoin moreover to the aforesaid Epistle, from Institution X, some specimen of his youth, most devoted to literary studies, before he turned his mind to the monastic institute. The Prologue therefore to be prefixed runs thus:

[2] It must be known, that there were two Dorothei and two Barsanuphii: our Dorotheus, distinct from the other, an impious follower of Severus, and those indeed infected with the errors of Severus; but these embracing right doctrine and a perfect manner of life, who are also contained in the present book (namely of the Institutions, from which we have especially woven together the Life of St. Dorotheus). Wherefore we ought to admit even this book, handing down the precepts of virtue and most useful to the soul, as a work truly of Dorotheus, orthodox and conspicuous among the Fathers; since it is not of that unfaithful and perverse one. Just as also our Father and Confessor of Christ Theodore, the most wise moderator of the Studite monastery, in his Testament to his disciples, rightly taught. Who, after he declared the sense of his Faith, and condemned with anathema all the atheist heretics to a man, thus moreover subjoins.

[3] And the whole book both of the old and the new Testament divinely inspired; and besides, the lives and divine writings of all the holy God-speaking Fathers and Doctors and Ascetics I accept. This I have said, on account of the openly pernicious Pamphilus, who, coming from the east, calumniated those holy men, Mark, Isaiah, Barsanuphius, Dorotheus, and Hesychius. Nor indeed do I, he is praised in the testament of St. Theodore the Studite, when I name Barsanuphius, Isaiah, Dorotheus, understand those defenders of the Acephali, who themselves also were beheaded, or the sworn associates of the Decacerati or Ten-horned, who were fixed by St. Sophronius with the tablet of anathema: but others, namely those above named, different from these; whom I, approved by the examination of the most holy Patriarch Tarasius, long since exercising the supreme Priesthood, and by the testimony of other men worthy of faith, both natives and easterners, embrace from the paternal tradition.

[4] Wherefore since in their doctrine our great Parent Theodore detected no impiety, but on the contrary rather a great support of souls; behold, with certain limits he distinguished the opinion of each Dorotheus, and approved the doctrine which is contained in this book as most useful; just as in truth it is exceedingly useful to the soul: to whose rule if anyone exactly directs his life, and his doctrines are approved as most useful. he will easily arrive at the perfect measure of Christian virtue; which obtained, he will be adorned with the crown of freedom from passions, and together with the Saints will attain eternal life. Thus far the Prologue, in which St. Theodore the Studite, by the testimony not only of St. Tarasius the Patriarch, but also of others both natives or Constantinopolitans, and easterners, and by the tradition of the elders, stands for our Dorotheus and his doctrine against the follower of Severus.

[5] Now indeed the Epistle of the discoverer of the Institutions, to the Brother desiring them, runs thus: I praise your purpose, most desired Brother; but for your zeal for the good I proclaim truly blessed your blessed and beauty-loving soul. For to scrutinize so studiously, to praise so sincerely our Father truly blessed and worthy of God, who has his name from the gift of God; this surely is to praise virtue, according to which he became so blessed, and loved God, and bore the care of the true life. He is commended for the imitation of Christ, For praise, as Blessed Gregory says, excites emulation, but emulation virtue, and virtue finally brings blessedness. We must therefore rejoice together and truly congratulate this so great advancement of yours: for you have seemed to tread the footsteps of him who is the imitator truly of the Meek and Humble of heart; who, considering the spiritual abnegation of Peter and his followers, so stripped himself of all affection for visible things, so resigned himself to his Fathers according to God, that he too with confidence (which I rightly know) could say to the Savior: Behold we have left all things, and have followed thee.

[6] Whence with the help of God being perfected in a short time, he filled out long times; not indeed dwelling in sensible solitudes and mountains, nor reckoning it a great thing to command carnivorous beasts; from the abnegation of self, but embracing the solitude of the soul, and desiring to approach the eternal mountains wondrously shining, and to trample the heads of serpents and scorpions that slay souls. Which he also in a short time deserved to attain by the help of Christ, through the athletic slaying of his own will, which showed him beforehand the way of the Fathers, free from error; and revealed the light burden of blessedness, and the salutary and truly sweet yoke. Whence he learned the best way of loftiness, humility, and that which is said, Be merciful and meek, from humility, receiving in deed the word of the holy elders. Adorned with all these virtues, that Blessed one always bore in his mouth what he had received from the holy elders: namely that whoever should studiously strive to cut off his own will, would arrive at the place of rest. For when he found what he had diligently sought, that the root of all disturbances is the love of one's own self, cleaving to our somewhat bitter will; from the eradicated self-love, using this efficacious medicine, he wholly wasted away the root together with the evil shoots, and became a genuine cultivator of incorruptible fruits, and also produced the fruits of true life; possessing the treasure hidden in the field, duly sought by him and found; and enriched with goods never to be emptied.

[7] I would indeed wish to be sufficiently fit, who could with mind and tongue set forth one by one the life of this holy man, from his prudence in acting, for the common benefit of all and as a most perfect exemplar of virtue. Likewise in what manner that Blessed one ran through the narrow and the broad and altogether admirable way, and that without error and dissipation, guarding against headlong transgression in either direction: for thus the friend of God and truly great Basil defines the narrowness of the afflicted and salutary way. The other he held through mortification, and toward those who led him to God liberty, and especially through the height of humility, which alone, according to the great Antony, is superior to all the snares of the devil; from his skill in applying profane sayings to sacred matters. wherefore by him too was most truly fulfilled that: Thy commandment is exceeding broad. But this I will pass over as impossible: for I know that to the rest of this Blessed one's goods belong also those things, which of the external Philosophers

are said, that he approached; which, like a truly wise bee, he gathered in his anthology, and, as use bore, diligently interwove according to the opportunity of his doctrine; such as that: Nothing in excess: Know thyself: and the like, to which not so much my prudent purpose, as the necessity of impossibility, as has been said, compels me. Ps. 118:96

[8] Moreover, what your diligent and most adorned soul commanded me, this now confidently I have done, His Institutions are sent to him who asked them. both holding suspect the gravity of disobedience, and fearing the punishment of sloth. And now together with these present letters of mine I have sent to you, prudent money-changers of God, the talent which lay idle with me: namely the discovered Institutions of Blessed Dorotheus, which he himself was worthy to receive from his elders, and handed down to his own disciples, doing and teaching, like our first and true Teacher and Savior. But although we have not been able to find all his sermons, but only very few, and those collected here and there by certain zealous men by the providence of God: nevertheless it will be enough, to have set forth to your dexterity even this brevity, according to that: Give to the wise man an occasion, and he will be wiser. Prov. 9:9

[9] Thus far the edition of Corderius, from whose version we give here all the rest. What follows he himself omits, because it is absent from the Greek context: but since nevertheless in the Library of the Fathers and elsewhere it is read added to the former, I think it worthwhile to transcribe the same here, although not aptly enough cohering with the foregoing; lest we seem of our own accord to have omitted anything which makes for the praise of the Saint. The Library, edited at Cologne, therefore continues: For what the purpose of the holy man was, so addicted to the monastic conversation; what a fitting and accommodated life he chose, I recall in my mind. And from this indeed the highest obedience of his soul toward his Fathers, his pure renunciation, the simplicity of his conscience, A compendium of his virtues, his zeal and diligence, and all things founded in knowledge. From this the constancy of his faith, his charity, and his perfection. Toward his fellow-brothers, his associates, he was affable and modest, alert, kindly, clement even when he presided; not suspicious, not lazy, not idle, not stubborn, not contentious; which are the strengths of judging no one and assuming nothing. Concord too and unanimity, sweeter than honey, he always fostered: but indeed toward works he was zealous, diligent, prudent, attentive, mild, with all probity an example of good morals; and toward the conduct of affairs accurate and a venerable lover of beauty; doing nothing wrongly, surpassing all by a certain divine genius and discretion; in all things humble, grateful, strong and constant, sober and solicitous and thoughtful.

[10] But what need is there to run through them one by one? I seem about to do something like him who would wish to diminish either the drops of a dripping or the waves of the sea. But it is fair, not to exceed the goal which I had set, and to leave to you too some part of this sweet inquiry; he is set forth to others as an example. that you may equally enjoy these delights with me, and may learn by what way here, by holiness, by urbanity, into divine doctrine and the salvation of souls he was so led by Him who governs all things and disposes by providence. A compassionate, I say, and benevolent father, most worthy to instruct and enlighten souls; great in intellect, greater in obedience; sublime in contemplation, more sublime in humility; rich in God, poor in spirit; sweet in eloquence, sweeter in encounter; a learned physician for whatever disease you wish; who took away sickness from rich and beggars; from the wise and the unwise; from women, men; old, younger; afflicted, joyful; strangers, his own kindred; the lonely, those in command; lords, servants; subjects, free men: imparting to all men as a talent that holy and various and innumerable stewardship, and made all things to all, and thus winning very many. But now it is the hour, most loving one, that I set the table of the sweetest discourse; of which every single part, and even the smallest saying, brings no small advantage and utility. For that man was of truly divine and admirable eloquence: but he wished to creep along in humble and plain speech, for the sake of an example of humility; and he everywhere preferred unadorned speech to polished. You therefore be nourished with this sincere zeal and the fruit of blessedness; be fed with such provision and food; approach the holy urbanity which you have long desired, and earnestly pray for my weakness.

[11] Thus far that Brother with the Latin appendix, as clearly, A longer Life is desired as concisely, concerning the Saint, whose deeds, at least many of them, he asserts that he knew and rightly knew. Would that the same (which he himself also wishes) had set forth one by one the whole life of the holy man, for the common benefit of all and as a most perfect exemplar of virtue! But since this was not done by him: let us bestow our effort, and let us gather the few little flowers of his virtues, scattered through the little garden of the ascetic Institutions, and compose from them a little bundle, which may draw after itself more Ascetics by its fragrance. That composition will have the greater authority, and it is given collected from his writings. because the Saint himself everywhere gives testimony about himself, and on account of his humility rather diminishes his virtues than extols them. Some things, however, to be set forth in the next chapter, the Author of the Life of St. Dositheus will also supply, most approved and contemporary, if not of Dositheus himself, certainly of his master Dorotheus, who died long after his disciple.

[12] But since almost all the rest pertain to the monastic life of Dorotheus, let us in this very chapter give a foretaste of some specimen of his youth; and let us see with what fervor, In his youth, most astonishing indeed, he was carried away and applied himself to literary studies. In Institution X, wishing to show that he who strives toward virtue ought at the beginning to do violence to himself, thus little by little making progress, and at last acting with tranquility; he sets forth to his disciples an example and his own experience, speaking thus: studies which at first he dreaded When I was free for the letters of external discipline, at the beginning I labored greatly; and when I began to take up a book, I was no otherwise than someone who approaches to touch a wild beast. As therefore I persevered in doing violence to myself; God helped me, and I contracted such a habit of studying, that I did not even know what I ate, or what I drank, so that he afterward loved them, that he forgot food, sleep, companions, or how I slept, on account of the ardor of my studies. Nor was any of my friends ever able to entice me to a meal: but neither did I ever at the time of reading approach to his company, however much I was a lover of society and loved my companions.

[13] When therefore the Sophist had dismissed us, and I had washed myself (for I needed daily washing, since on account of the excessive assiduity of my readings I was being dried up) I withdrew to my lodging, not knowing what I should eat: for I could not be free even for preparing food. I had, however, a certain faithful friend, who prepared for me whatever I wished. I took therefore whatever I found prepared by him; and everywhere he had his book with him. having also my book on my left on the cot, and little by little I leaned upon it; and when I slept, I likewise had it in my seat; and when I had taken a little sleep, I leapt up at once to reading. Again in the evening, when I withdrew to the light of the lamp, I lit the lamp, and until midnight applied myself to reading; and I was so disposed, that from no other thing, except from readings, did I take pleasure. When therefore I came to the monastery, I kept saying to myself: If anyone has such affection for external eloquence and such ardor for reading, that he attains the habit of knowledge; how much more must one labor for virtue? And from this matter I took great strength. Now let us give, plucked from the Life of St. Dositheus, those things which make for our Dorotheus.

CHAPTER II.

The deeds of Dorotheus concerning Dositheus his disciple.

[14] But Blessed Abbot Dorotheus, having embraced the solitary life with God's help, enters the Monastery of Abbot Seridus withdrew to the monastery of Abbot Seridus, where he found certain great and several men given to quiet; among whom were two excellent great old men, namely the most holy Barsanuphius, and his disciple or fellow-trainer, Abbot John; under the discipline of St. Barsanuphius, who, on account of the grace of foreseeing the future which he had, was surnamed the Prophet. To whom when he had handed himself over to be formed with all confidence; he spoke indeed to the great old man through the holy Abbot Seridus; but to Abbot John the Prophet he even deserved to be of service; as he himself also boasts below, that he was judged worthy of such ministry. But the Author of the Life of St. Dositheus continues.

[15] While Blessed Abbot Dorotheus was still staying in the monastery of Abbot Seridus, where he builds an infirmary for the Brothers and was perfecting the contest of Christian obedience; the holy old men decreed, that in that place he should build an infirmary, and have care of it. For if ever the Brothers were sick, they were greatly afflicted, because they had no one to take care of them. He built therefore, with God's help, an infirmary, his own brother according to the flesh supplying the expenses for him: for the man was, his brother according to the flesh supplying the expense, exceedingly loving of Christ and a singular friend of monks. Now Abbot Dorotheus himself, as I said, together with certain other pious and religious Brothers had care of the sick; inasmuch as to him the dispensation of this kind of administration had been entrusted.

[16] On a certain day therefore the aforesaid Abbot Seridus summoned him: to whom when he had come, he found a certain youth, A youth, wishing to enter the monastery, clad in a military cloak, most delicate and likewise most handsome. He then by chance had come to the monastery, together with certain friends, who were of the palace of the Duke. As therefore Dorotheus approached, Abbot Seridus takes him apart, and says to him: These men have brought this young man, saying that he wishes to dwell here in the monastery: and I fear lest perhaps he be the son of some of those great ones, who has either stolen something, or done some evil and wishes to flee; and we be exposed to danger: for neither his habit nor his appearance is that of anyone who desires to profess the monastic life…

[17] Then the Abbot sent St. Dorotheus, to speak to the youth, and examine him. But he knew how to answer nothing else, than, I wish to be saved. Returning therefore Dorotheus reports to the Abbot; he is ordered to examine and receive him, If you have altogether decreed to admit him, there is nothing for you to fear; for he has no vice. The Abbot says to him: Do charity therefore, and take him with you, that he may be saved: for I do not wish him to dwell among the Brothers. But he himself out of modesty earnestly refused this, saying; that it was neither of his state nor of his measure to take upon himself such a burden. To whom the Abbot: I, he says, bear both your burden and his: why are you afflicted? Then Blessed Dorotheus says to him; Since therefore you have altogether decreed this, set it forth to the old man (Barsanuphius) if it seems good to you. Good, he says, I will set it forth to him. He goes therefore and reports the matter to the old man. Then the old man declares to him, that he should so receive him; and called Dositheus

For through you, he says, God will save him. Then he received him with joy, and kept him with himself in the infirmary, and called him Dositheus.

[18] No small praise of Dorotheus, this man was his disciple, whom in a short space of time he formed in every kind of virtue. he excellently teaches temperance, And first indeed he taught temperance in eating; and diminishing little by little the portion of bread, he led the young man to such temperance, that he who at the beginning ate one loaf of four pounds, and another half of the same weight, at last was content with eight ounces. In the works of charity moreover he exercised him excellently in the infirmary of the Brothers; and if ever by a little word he had perhaps offended somewhat against another, charity, sweetly and strongly he corrected and encouraged him as he grieved over his fault. For when he had once found him sitting on the ground and weeping, he says to him: What is the matter with you, Dositheus? what have you? why do you weep? To whom he; Forgive me, Lord, for I was angry, and spoke ill to my Brother. meekness; And he said to him: Do you thus get angry, Dositheus? Are you thus not ashamed, being angry, even to speak ill to your Brother? Do you not know that he is Christ, and that you afflict Christ? And when he continued to weep abundantly, he said: God spare you; rise, let us only begin, and apply diligence; and God will bring help.

[19] He knew also most dexterously to repress vainglory in his disciple from occasion. but he unteaches vainglory For, as Dositheus was of a most open conscience, when he had excellently made up the beds of the sick, he addressed Dorotheus passing by there, saying: Lord, Lord, my thought says to me; You make up the beds elegantly. To whom Dorotheus, beating down that little vainglory; Wow! Lord: behold you have become a good servant, a distinguished chamberlain; but you have not turned out a good Monk. At another time he was immoderately attached to a certain little knife, and desiring to keep it in the infirmary, he asked the holy Master that it be permitted to him, praising the knife, from the fact that it cut bread excellently, and was fit for preparing morsels. But Dorotheus, sniffing out the vainglory and excessive affection of Dositheus toward the knife; and immoderate affection toward earthly things. ordered it to be brought to him: and contemplating its elegance; Thus, he says, Dositheus, does it please you? Do you wish to be a servant of this knife, and not a servant of God? Does it thus please you, that you be bound by affection for this knife? And are you not ashamed to wish that this knife should rather rule you, than God? Go, lay down this knife, nor touch it.

[20] But as Dorotheus esteemed no virtue in a Monk more than obedience; He exercises him especially in Obedience. above all he wished his disciple to excel in it; and among other trials of him he once took this. If ever Dositheus needed a garment, Dorotheus supplied him with what to make it from: and when he had gone away and sewn the garment with great elegance, he called him, saying; Dositheus, have you sewn that garment? And he answering; Yes, Lord, I have made it up rightly and elegantly: exercising his obedience, he said: Go, give it to this Brother, or to this sick man. Then again he handed him another garment: which when he had again elegantly patched and made up, he likewise said to him; Hand it over to this Brother. And immediately he handed it over, nor was he ever afflicted or murmured, saying; After I have labored patching and making up some garment, he took it from me and gives it to another; but whatever good thing he heard, that he executed with great promptness. Happy disciple, that he obtained such a master, who so prudently in his time and place knew how to exercise his own!

[21] If ever he judged there was need of some chastisement, that the disciple might persist in humility; he preferred that it be inflicted through the Abbot rather than through himself, lest perhaps the mind of the chastised be thence alienated, and in humility, and place less confidence in his master. Thus, asked by Dositheus about some passage of sacred Scripture, because he did not wish him to be occupied in such things, but rather to be preserved in humility, he answered, that he did not know. But he a little after asks again about another passage: to whom again he answered; I do not know, but go, ask the Abbot. He went at once, obeying the word. But Blessed Dorotheus had already foretold so that he might even bear blows gladly. to the Abbot apart; If Dositheus comes to you, to ask something Scriptural, beat him a little. When therefore he had come and asked; the Abbot began to reprehend him, and at last dismissing him, gave him two slaps, and he brought back from it a great fruit of humility and patience. For returning eagerly to Dorotheus, showing him his cheeks red from the slaps, he said: See, I still have them firm and solid.

[22] To the same as he was sick Nearly five years had Dositheus spent under the discipline of Dorotheus, when he departed from the living; and adorned with such an ornament of virtues, the disciple flew before his master into heaven; after he had received from him no smaller signs of paternal charity in adverse health; than of a careful and solicitous instructor in good health. For Dorotheus was frequently present to him as he lay sick, and would gladly have brought some remedy. And when the sick man had begged that soft-boiled eggs not be given him; he expressed the tender affection of his soul; Rightly, he said, since you do not wish it, I will not give them to you; only do not be troubled. But he took pains to give him instead of eggs other things, which were conducive to health. But as the disease grew worse and worse, he repeatedly admonished the sick man to pray, and asked; Dositheus, how is your prayer? Does it still hold firm? To whom he, when he had often answered; Well, Lord, pray for me: solicitous, he shows great charity: it holds firm through your prayers: at last replied; Forgive me, Lord, I can no longer apply myself to prayer. And Dorotheus; Leave it then; and only be mindful of God, and consider him present to you. Meanwhile he beheld him laboring; and was anxious, lest he suffer any harm.

CHAPTER III.

What he taught and practiced concerning Obedience and Humility.

[23] Thus far certain illustrious deeds of Dorotheus, even when Dositheus died, as his Life has at number 19, still a disciple; but one who at the same time excellently fulfilled the parts of a master, as we saw. Now let us inspect what besides he did in that monastery of Abbot Seridus, before he passed elsewhere. His first Ascetic Institution, from the edition of our Corderius, treats of Renunciation and perfect Obedience, and also of the security to those obeying him; He praises Obedience to his disciples, and it is most excellent above all and a certain compendium of the ascetic life. And in order to form his disciples in those virtues, the Saint adduces many things laboriously, and powerfully perorates; and at last he thus explains to his disciples by his own experience the tranquility of indifferent obedience. I once asked that old man Abbot John, the disciple of Abbot Barsanuphius, and said: Lord, since Scripture says; That through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of heaven, and I see that I have no tribulation; what must I do, lest perhaps I lose my soul? for I have had no tribulation or solicitude. But while it happened that I had this thought, I took a tablet and wrote to the old man (for I asked him by letter) and before I set this forth to him and finished the writing, by his own experience I felt the benefit and relief: so great was the security and tranquility. But I, since I did not know the force of virtue, and heard; That through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of heaven; feared, because I had no tribulation. After therefore I had manifested this to the old man, and he proves it by the answer of St. Barsanuphius. he thus answered me: Be not afflicted, because you have no trouble: for whoever of the Fathers commits himself to obedience, obtains this security and tranquility.

[24] A little before he had set forth the example of his Dositheus, from what kind of life, indeed he shows that it snatches a man even from death; luxury, and sloth, to what measure of holiness he had come in a short space of time, because he embraced obedience, and cut off his own will; to which he thus subjoins: I tell you also another similar thing, which happened in my presence, that you may understand that obedience, and the lack of one's own will, snatches a man even from death itself. When once I was staying among the disciples of Abbot Seridus, there came there a disciple of a certain great old man from the parts of Ascalon, to inquire about something in the name of his Abbot. And he had instructions from the old man, to return in the evening to his own cell. by the example of a brother swimming a torrent for love of him Meanwhile a most violent storm arose with rains and thunders, and the neighboring torrent was now in the full fervor of its overflowing: nevertheless he, on account of the old man's word, wished to depart: but we exhorted him to stay, supposing it could not be that he would emerge safe from the river: but he could by no means be persuaded to stay. At last we said, Let us proceed to the river with him: for if he sees it, he will of his own accord return. We went therefore together with him; and when we came to the river, he himself took off his garments, and binds them to his head, and girds up his mantle or scapular, and casts himself into the river, into that whole horrendous flood. But we stood astonished and trembling, lest perhaps he perish. But he kept on swimming, and immediately is caught on the other bank, and puts on his garments; and thence bows to us, and receives the blessing, and goes off running. But we, marveling at the force of virtue, remained astonished, since we had directed our minds there with fear. But he himself, on account of his obedience, passed through without danger.

[25] He teaches by example, that the proud man first despises men, In his second Institution Dorotheus opposes to the beginning of all sin, namely pride, the barrier of humility, which, like pride too, he makes twofold. And the first pride indeed lifts up the mind against one's neighbor, the second against God. The first is, when one esteems his Brother as nothing, when he holds him in contempt, as if the man were of no worth; and prefers himself to him. From that, however, unless one quickly comes to his senses, he shows by experience that he has learned that one gradually arrives at the second, so as to rise up against God, saying thus: Certainly, my Brothers, I once knew a certain man, who came to this miserable state: and at the beginning indeed, if any of the Brothers brought forth something, he spat upon each one and said; Who is this? then the Saints There is no one except Zosimas and his companions. Then he began also to hold these in contempt and to say; There is no one except Macarius. And a little after he began to say; Who is Macarius? There is no one except Basil and Gregory. And also not much after, he began to spurn these too, saying; Who is Basil, and who is Gregory? There is no one except Paul and Peter. at last God himself. To whom I said; Certainly, Brother, you will despise these too. Believe me; after a little time he began to say; Who is Peter, who is Paul? There is no one except the holy Trinity. In this manner afterward he even swelled up against God himself: to such a degree was he mad.

[26] He teaches by a similitude, It may seem wonderful from this, how much the admonition of one and the same person avails with one and another.

and the admonition of one and the same person avails with one and another. All things Dositheus took in the best part, and turned out a Saint. On the contrary that one did not heed the admonisher, of whom just now; and came to the extreme of pride and stubbornness: Dorotheus admonishing this one no less paternally than that one. But let us further hear him speaking about humility. I remember, he says, the holier, are also the more humble when once we were speaking words about humility, and a certain illustrious man of Gaza was listening to us, bringing forward that very thing, that the nearer one is to God, so much the more does he see himself a sinner; fixed with admiration he said; How can this be? for he did not know, and wished to know the reason. Then I say to him: Lord Primate, tell me what you think yourself to be in your city? He answered; I think myself great and the first of the city. I say to him: If perhaps you go to Caesarea, what will you think of yourself there? I shall hold myself, he says, viler than the Magnates who live there. Then I to him: But if you go off to Antioch, what would you make yourself there? To whom he says; I would think myself there as a kind of rustic. I say to him at last; and that they more recognize themselves sinners: If you go to Constantinople to the Emperor; what will you think of yourself there? I would hold myself, he says, as a kind of poor and needy man. Then I to him: Behold, I say, so it is with holy men; the nearer they approach to God, so much the more do they see themselves sinners.

[27] Thus by a most beautiful similitude he showed his saying about humility to be true, more excelling in holier men. Which a certain Sophist, being by no means able to grasp, hearing Abbot Zosimas speaking the same words on this matter: Tell me, he says, how do you esteem yourself a sinner? do you not know that you are holy? which a sophist, unable to grasp, do you not know that you abound in virtues? See how you fulfill the commandments. How, doing such things, do you esteem yourself a sinner? But the old man, not finding by what answer to explain it; I do not know, he says, the manner in which to explain this to you; nevertheless I so feel. The Sophist therefore opposed him, wishing to know the manner in which the matter stood. But the old man, by no means finding how to set forth this matter to him, in his holy simplicity; Do not pervert me, he said; I indeed so feel. When therefore I saw the old man hesitating in his answer, I say to him: Is it perhaps so with the matter, as it is with the sophistic and medical art? when one skilled in it practices it, little by little by the very practice there is born in him a certain habit of the physician or the sophist; nor can he say or explain, in what manner he acquired the habit of that art, he aptly explains. while the soul gradually, without perceiving, conceives it from the practice of the art. The same also comes about in humility, while from the practice of the commandments a certain humble habit is born, which cannot be expressed in speech. As soon therefore as Abbot Zosimas heard this, he immediately embraced me, and said to me: You have found the very thing; it is so just as you have said. But the Sophist too, when he had heard this, was cured, and himself admitted this reasoning.

[28] He himself, truly humble, puts himself after all, To this chapter on humility may also be referred what, in the fourth Institution, which treats of the divine fear, he himself relates about himself. For; I indeed, he says with great humility, do not know whether I ever did any good thing: if however from this I was protected, I know that I was protected, because I never preferred myself to a Brother, but always set my Brother before me. Once when I was still with Abbot Seridus, the minister of that old man Abbot John, the contemporary of Abbot Barsanuphius, fell sick: and the Abbot commanded me, he gladly serves Abbot John, to minister to the old man. But I so embraced the door of his cell from outside, as one adores the venerable Cross; how much more his ministry? For who would not wish to be held worthy of such a Saint? Moreover he had also an admirable discourse, and always after the completion of any ministry of mine, with a humble gesture I showed reverence to him, that I might receive from him a blessing and depart; and he always spoke to me. And the old man had four words; and, as I said, in the evening when I was about to depart, he always related to me one of the four, and said in this manner: He says once (for so the old man was accustomed to say at each word, He says once) Brother, may God preserve charity. from whom he learns four maxims The Fathers said: To guard the conscience of one's neighbor begets humility. Again on another evening he said to me: He says once, Brother, may God preserve charity. The Fathers said: I never preferred my own will to my Brother's. At another time again he said: He says once, Brother, may God preserve charity. The Fathers said: Flee human affairs, and you will be saved. Again he said: He says once, Brother, may God preserve charity. The Fathers said: Bear one another's burdens, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ. and keeps them his whole life: The old man always used to give me, as I was about to depart toward evening, one admonition out of these four, in the manner in which one would give someone provision for a journey: and so I kept those for the keeping of my whole life.

[29] he desires to yield his place to another; Nevertheless although I had such confidence in that Saint, and was so affected toward his service; as soon as I perceived any Brother afflicted, because he sought to serve him; I went at once to the Abbot and asked him, saying: If you consent, Lord; this office suits this Brother more than me. But neither the Abbot, nor the old man himself consented. Nevertheless I meanwhile, as much as was in me, took pains that the Brother be preferred to me: and though I spent nine years there, I do not know that I spoke a harsh word to anyone, he silently bears one reviling him although I had an office; lest anyone say I lacked it. Believe me, for I know that a certain Brother, from the infirmary all the way to the church, pursued me with revilings: to whom I did not put back even one word. Nay rather when the Abbot too had learned this, by someone reporting it I know not how, and he excuses him before the Abbot, and wished to punish him; I went to embrace his feet, saying: Do not by the Lord do this. I erred; the Brother has no fault. At another time too, whether from temptation, or from simplicity (God knows whence) for a long time he passed his urine at night at my head; he likewise bears graver injuries so that even my bed was wetted. Likewise others too of the Brothers came in the daytime, and shook out their mats at my cell; and I saw such a multitude of bugs entering my cell, that I could not overcome them by killing them: of urine and bugs poured out upon him: for they were, on account of the heat, infinite. Moreover when I had gone to lie down, all of them gathered upon me; and sleep indeed came on from too much labor: but immediately roused from sleep, I found my whole body devoured. And I never said to any of them; Do not do thus; or, Why do you do this? Nor do I know, as I said, that I ever spoke a biting word, or one troublesome to anyone.

[30] Thus for his humility Dorotheus bore whatever injuries, and by bearing them wove for himself an incomparable crown of patience. Not so that other one; of whom there is treatment in the seventh Institution, who likewise seemed to receive with even mind the injuries inflicted by the Brothers, but not from a true motive of humility. There was a certain, he says, Brother in the monastery, before I departed thence, whom I never saw either disturbed or exasperated toward anyone, although I beheld many Brothers inflicting injury on him and making trouble. the humility of another, in appearance great, And that younger one bore with so even a mind those things which were heaped on him by any of them, as if no one at all had been troublesome to him. I therefore always marveled at the excellence of his patience, and desired to learn whence he had obtained this virtue: and once having taken him apart, showing reverence, I suggest, that he tell me, what kind of thought he always had in his heart, when he suffered either injuries, or any troubles from anyone; because he showed such long-suffering. he tests but condemns it. But he answered swellingly with insolence, and said to me: I am wont so to attend to these imperfections, or to receive them thus; just as little puppies are wont to be received by men. Having heard these things I let down my ears, and say to myself: This Brother has not found the way: and signing myself with the Cross, I withdrew; praying that God protect both me and him. So it happens also from contempt of injuries, that one is not at all disturbed: which is manifest perdition.

CHAPTER IV.

He consults his Master in all things: he learns the malice of suspicions, and shows it in another.

[31] He teaches that in the spiritual life a leader is to be chosen, In his fifth Institution, treating of a most useful and especially necessary subject in the ascetic life, Dorotheus teaches, that a Religious must not follow his own judgment, but must choose in the spiritual way a sure Leader, who may point out what is to be avoided, by what way one is to go, what is to be followed. And in order to persuade his disciples of this, he assumes as his theme what is said in the Proverbs; Where there is no governance, they fall like leaves: but there is safety in much counsel. Prov. 11:14 Which when he had beautifully proved by many arguments; he affirms, that the fall of most Monks arises from this head, that, seeming prudent to themselves, they have despised the leadership of the elders: and he teaches the contrary by his own example: I indeed, he says, hardly know that any fall of a Monk has ever existed, except from this, that he believed his own heart. Some say, that on account of this or on account of that a man falls: without which one must necessarily fall: but I, as I said, do not know that any fall has happened to anyone, except from this, that he believes himself. Have you seen anyone fall? Know that he directed himself: nothing is graver, nothing more pernicious, than to direct oneself. God protected me, and I always feared this danger. When I was in the monastery, I set forth all things to the old man Abbot John. he himself consulted his own in all things, For I never (as I said) presumed to do anything without his judgment. It happened sometimes, that my thought suggested to me: Will the old man tell you this? why do you wish to be troublesome to him? And I put back to the thought: Anathema to you and to your judgment, and to your understanding, and to your prudence, and to your knowledge, because what you know you know from the demons. trusting nothing to himself; I went therefore and asked the old man: and it happened sometimes, that he answered me the very thing which I had thought. Then my thought suggested to me: What then? Behold this is the very thing which I said. Did you not untimely interrupt the old man? And I put back to that thought: But now it is good, now it is from the Holy Spirit. For what is yours, that is evil, it is from the demons, from the state of passions

is subject: and thus I never gave credence to my thought without inquiry.

[32] and hence he always lived most quietly, And believe me, Brothers, hence I lived in such quiet and such tranquility of mind, that even on account of that very thing (as I remember I told you elsewhere above at number 23) I was anxious. For I had heard, That through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God; and I saw that I had no affliction; and I feared and was anxious, not knowing the cause of so great tranquility, until the old man signified to me that I should not be afflicted; Because whoever of the Fathers commits himself to obedience, obtains this security and tranquility. Take pains, you too, Brothers, to inquire, and not to rely on yourselves. Learn what security this matter has, what joy, what tranquility of mind. But since I said, that I had no affliction, hear what happened to me in regard to this.

[33] When I was still living there in the monastery, once a huge and intolerable sadness arose in me; and I was pressed with such grief and anguish, even in the gravest anguishes of spirit, that I seemed almost to give up my soul. But this affliction was from the snares of the demons, and this kind of temptation was brought on from the envy of the devil; most grave indeed it was, but of the briefest time, troublesome, dark, devoid of consolation, having no rest; but on every side anguish, on every side suffocation. Quickly, however, the grace of God came into my soul, otherwise no one could have endured. which God quickly dispelled Moreover, as I said, placed in such temptation and such anguish, on a certain day while I stood doubtful in the courtyard of the monastery, and was invoking God concerning this matter; suddenly I turn my eyes toward the church; and I see someone in Episcopal habit, as if about to sacrifice, entering the sanctuary. But I never approached a guest without necessity or command. through some Saint appearing to him, Then indeed as if something drew me, I too entered after him. But he remained standing for a fairly long time, with his hands spread out toward heaven; and I stood behind him, praying with much fear: for from the sight of him a huge terror had invaded me. But after he had finished his prayer, turning, he came to me; and the nearer he became to me, the more I felt sadness and fear removed from me. Then as he stood before me, he stretched out his hand, and touched my breast, and struck it with his fingers, saying: With expectation I have expected the Lord, and he attended to me; and he heard my prayers, and led me out of the pit of misery and from the mire of dregs; and he set my feet upon a rock, striking his breast and saying certain things. and directed my steps; and he put into my mouth a new song, a hymn to our God. And all these little verses he repeated three times, striking (as I said) my breast, and so he withdrew. From then there arose at once in my heart light, joy, consolation, sweetness; and from one I am found another. As therefore he went out, I run to him, wishing to find him; and I did not find him, but he disappeared. From that hour, by the mercy of God, I do not know that I was any more disturbed either by sadness or by fear: but up to now the Lord has protected me through the prayers of those holy old men. These things I have told you, that you may know, how great quiet and tranquility with all-encompassing security he has, who does not rule himself, but casts his affairs upon God, and upon those who according to God are able to direct him.

[34] The subject of the ninth Institution is lying, and he distinguishes it into three differences: For there is, he says, he who lies in mind, there is also he who lies in word, there is finally he who lies even by his very life. And indeed he who lies in mind, admits suspicion. Hence he exaggerates its evil, and shows by his example that suspicions are by no means to be believed. For he says; He perceives bad suspicions, Once when I was in the monastery, I was tempted to perceive a person's state from his movement. There befell me therefore a matter of this kind. On one occasion while I was standing, there passed a certain woman carrying a water-jar: and I know not how, seized, I attended to her eyes; and immediately my thought suggests to me, that she is a harlot. As therefore my thought suggested this to me, I was greatly afflicted, and I manifest the matter to the old man Abbot John, saying: Lord, if unwilling I see the movement of someone, and my thought suggests to me his state, what must be done? And the old man answered me in this manner: What then? and learns that they are to be fled, and flees them perpetually: Does it not happen sometimes, that one has a natural defect, and through that contest corrects it? It is by no means unbecoming to know the state of anyone. Therefore never believe your suspicions. For an oblique rule makes oblique even those things which are straight. Suspicions are lying, and bring harm. From that time if my thought had said to me, that the sun is the sun, or that darkness is darkness; I would scarcely have believed it. Nothing is graver than suspicions, which are so noxious, that if they cling in us even a little, they begin to persuade us and effectively to prove, that we see those things which neither are, nor can come to be.

[35] On this subject I tell you a wholly admirable thing, which I attained, when I was still staying in the monastery. We had there a certain Brother, a brother laboring under the same, greatly agitated by this passion; who gave so great credence to his own suspicions, that he was utterly persuaded by any suspicion of his, that the matter was altogether so, just as his thought depicted it, nor could it be otherwise. In time therefore, the evil growing, the demons imposed upon him an error of this kind. When he had once entered the garden for the sake of inspection (for he was its keeper) he was deceived and seemed to himself to see a certain Brother, stealing and eating figs. But it was the Day of Preparation, and scarcely yet the second hour. As therefore he persuaded himself, that he had truly seen the matter privately; he hid himself and goes out silent: and he watched again at the hour of Communion, he accuses another of theft, to see what that Brother did at Communion, inasmuch as he had stolen and eaten figs. But when he saw him washing his hands, to approach Communion; he runs to the Abbot and says to him: Behold to what this Brother enters, to take holy Communion together with the Brothers! nevertheless forbid it to be given him; for I saw him this morning taking figs from the garden and eating them.

[36] Meanwhile that Brother enters with great compunction to the holy Oblation: who, examined by the Abbot, for he was very pious. As therefore the Abbot saw him, he calls him before he approached the Priest who was communicating: and takes him apart, and says to him: Tell me, Brother, what is it that you have done today? He was astonished; and asked of him: Where, Lord? To whom the Abbot: When you entered the garden this morning, what did you do there? Then the Brother, as if thunderstruck, again says: Lord, he is found innocent; neither did I see the garden today, nor was I here this morning in the monastery; but just now behold I have come fresh from the road. For as soon as I had finished the vigils, the Steward sent me on such-and-such business. But that matter with which he was occupied, was distant many miles from there, and at the very hour of Communion that Brother had freshly arrived. The Abbot then summons the Steward, and asks him: Where did you send this Brother? To whom the Steward answers, the same as the Brother had said; for I sent him to such a village, and he asks pardon saying: Forgive me, Lord, because you were resting from the vigils, and therefore I did not permit him to receive dismissal from you. The Abbot therefore, made more certain of the whole matter, dismissed them to approach Communion: and calls the Brother laboring under suspicions, but that brother is publicly rebuked. and rebukes him and bars him from access to holy Communion. And not only this: but also to all the Monks, gathered after Communion, he narrated with tears the whole matter as it had happened, and confounded that Brother publicly before all; effecting three things from this, namely that the devil be confounded, and the sower of suspicions be put to shame; and that through that ignominy the sin of the Brother be pardoned, and in future he receive help from God; and the other Brothers come out more cautious, and that we never presume to believe our own suspicions. Having exhorted us and the Brother much therefore on this matter, he said, that nothing is more pernicious than suspicions; and he demonstrated this by the present example.

CHAPTER V.

That vices, when they are tender, are easily overcome; when inveterate, with difficulty; St. Dorotheus teaches variously.

[37] To none of the others ought the eleventh Instruction yield in utility, which is entitled On the passions to be extirpated; and that they are to be plucked out while they are tender, and not to be despised on account of their smallness, he excellently teaches; among other things adducing a similitude, from the infirmity of the body to the sickness of the soul, in these words: Turn your mind, As infirmity of the body comes quickly, and recedes slowly; Brothers, to how matters stand; and see that you do not neglect yourselves: since even a small negligence exposes us to great dangers. I recently fell in with a certain Brother, whom I found already as it were convalescing from illness; and while he received us, I learned, that he had labored with fever only seven days; and behold now forty other days having elapsed, he could scarcely yet recover his former strength. See, Brothers, how miserable it is for one to fall into an unequal disposition. One generally despises small disorders; and does not know, that if his body has proceeded to be ill, especially if it has been weaker, there is need of much both labor and time before it is restored to health. Seven days that wretched man had been feverish: so also of the soul, and behold so many days are there, in which he neither found rest, nor could at all restore himself. So the matter stands also in the soul. One sins a little, and how much time does he spend dripping his blood, before he raises himself up! Thence assigning various causes of sickness in the body, which have no place in the sickness of the soul; he concludes, that nothing is an impediment to the salvation of the soul, except only its own disorder: whose disorder must be corrected at once, and he exhorts his own paternally, to apply mind and hand to a work so necessary, the brevity of this life being set forth. For he says: We see our Brothers, snatched from our midst; and do we not watch, knowing that we too gradually approach death? Behold from the time we have sat here speaking, we have consumed two or three hours of our time, and have been made nearer to death. And do we see ourselves losing our time, and do we not fear?

[38] a similitude being taken from little trees, Hence the holy man, supposing the minds of his disciples roused, to eradicate utterly the passions; sets before their eyes more closely the utility and ease of eradicating them, while they are still tender and weak; and draws a most celebrated similitude from small and larger little trees. Namely that once a young ascetic, ordered by his spiritual Father to pull up a cypress, which was very small; immediately pulled it up with the least

effort: then one somewhat larger, with one hand; and one even larger than that, with both applied, with some effort, he uprooted: after these another (the size of the trees ever increasing) with much labor; and yet another, after much shaking and sweat, scarcely at last extracted: finally one coming nearer to greater and more long-lived than the former, he could by no means eradicate it by himself alone, he excellently shows: but only with the help of a fellow laboring together. And then the Saint subjoins: Behold, in this manner the passions are; while they are small, if we will, with tranquility of mind we can cut them out; but if we neglect them as small, little by little they harden, and the more they have hardened, the greater the force and labor needed. But if they have prevailed against us; we are no longer able even with the highest labor to pull them out, unless we have the help of certain Saints aiding us after God.

[39] but especially the appetite for sleep must be moderated, To this purpose, he says, it contributes very much, to examine how, who, in what manner one has spent the day, the night: whether for the vigils (for he dwells more tenaciously on this example, hinting that the appetite for rest and sleep is overcome with more difficulty than the rest) whether, he says, one has risen for the vigils with alacrity, whether he has not despised the one who rouses, or murmured against him. For everyone ought to know that the rouser for vigils deserves excellently of him, and becomes the author of the greatest goods, since he rouses him to pray to God for his sins, that he may be enlightened. How therefore should one not give thanks? when the signal for vigils is given, Truly he ought to have very many for him, since from him almost his salvation depends. Hence in solace of those who promptly rise when roused, and betake themselves to the vigils, he brings forward a marvelous vision, which had been shown to a certain great enlightened old man, and which he himself had received from that man's mouth.

[40] When that old man was standing in the church, the beginning of psalm-singing having now been given by the Brothers, he saw someone come out of the sacristy clothed in a white garment, who held a certain little vessel of blessed water with a sprinkler; and the sprinkler dipped in the vessel, he went around all the Brothers, sealing each of them: but the places of the absent, some indeed he sealed, but some he passed by. Toward the end again he saw him coming out of the sacristy, and doing likewise. On a certain day therefore the old man seized him, an Angel teaches, visibly going around the choir; and casts himself at his feet; demanding of him, who he was and why he did these things? To whom that white-clad one thus answered: I am an Angel of God, sent to this Congregation, to fortify with this kind of sign those who, from the beginning of the psalmody to the end, by their alacrity and diligence and notable purpose of mind, are found in the church and persevere. Then the old man to him; How is it, he says, that you sign the place even of some who are absent? To whom the holy Angel answered, saying: Whoever of the Brothers are diligent and of prompt purpose of mind, but on account of some necessity or infirmity are absent with the blessing of the Fathers; or certainly are occupied by the precept of obedience, on account of which they are not present; these too, though absent, receive their sign, since by affection they are present with those singing the psalms: but only to those who, when they could be present, on account of their negligence are absent, I have been ordered to deny this kind of seal, since they have rendered themselves unworthy of it.

[41] Wherefore he bids his disciples consider and see, what a gift he bestows on his Brother, who according to the rule of the vigil rouses him; and he admonishes them to take pains, never to be defrauded of the seal of the holy Angel: and of the same matter he thus sets forth his own solicitude and diligence as an example. When I was staying in the monastery, and Dorotheus by his own example by the judgment of the elders the Abbot had made me the carer of guests: but I was convalescing from a great infirmity. Guests therefore came, and I spent the evening with them. Likewise came camel-drivers, to whom I supplied necessities. Nay even not rarely, after I had gone to lie down, another necessity again arose, which roused me. Meanwhile indeed the hour of the vigils approached, and when I had taken only a little sleep, behold the prefect of the rules roused me. Moreover, whether on account of labor, or on account of infirmity (for I was still enervated by a little fever and stealthily seized) I was found as if not master of myself. of one praying some, to rouse him from sleep. I answered him therefore, still oppressed with sleep: Good, Lord; may your charity be remembered; may God give you a reward; lo as you have ordered, I come, Lord. Then as soon as he had departed, I fell asleep again. But I was vehemently afflicted, because I had delayed to rise to the church. And since it did not occur to him to urge me further; I asked two Brothers, one indeed to rouse me, the other not to permit me to doze in the vigils. And believe me, Brothers, I so venerated them as if from them my salvation flowed, and I all but adored them. So therefore you too ought to be affected toward those who rouse you to the rule of the church and to every good work.

[42] A transition being made hence to the inveterate habit of doing evil; a Brother stealing from habit Do you wish, he says, that I relate to you the example of a certain one who had the habit of a passion? Hear a matter worthy of much lamentation. When I was staying in the monastery, I know not how the Brothers were wont simply in jest to set forth their thoughts to me. Nay even the Abbot, by the consent of the elders, enjoined this province on me too. On a certain day therefore there came to me one of the Brothers, and says to me: Give me pardon, and pray for me, since I steal and eat by stealth. I say to him; Why do you do that? are you hungry? He answered: Certainly indeed: the table of the Brothers is not enough for me, nor do I dare to ask anything else. I say to him: Why do you not go to the Abbot, and intimate your necessity to him? Then he: I am affected, he says, with shame and blush. I say to him: Do you wish that I go to him for you? Then he: Do, he says, as you please, Lord. I went therefore and set forth the matter to the Abbot; who said to me, Do charity, and have care of him, as you know. Then having taken him, I say to the Dispenser: Do charity to him, he tries in every way to amend him, and at whatever hour this Brother comes to you, give him whatever he wishes, and deny him nothing. Which heard, the Dispenser answered me; As you have ordered, so I will do.

[43] When that Brother had done so for a few days; he came to me, saying: Forgive me, Lord; for I have begun again to steal. I ask him; Why? does not the Dispenser supply you if you wish anything? Yes indeed, with good leave, he supplies me whatever I wish: but I revere him. Then I say to him: Do you revere me too? He answered me, No. To whom I: If therefore you wish anything, come and receive from me, and do not steal: for I had then the care of the sick. He came therefore to me, and received as much as he wished. But he began after some days to steal again, and came afflicted and says to me: Behold I steal again. To whom I: Why, I say, but in vain, the habit prevailing. do you do this, my Brother? Do I not supply you if you wish anything? He answered; Certainly so. Then I say: Why then do you steal? To whom he: forgive me, he says, I know not why; but so simply I steal. Then I say to him: But tell me, what do you do with those things which you steal? He answered; I throw them to the ass. And that Brother was found to have stolen vetches, dates, figs, onions, and other things of the kind, whatever he found indiscriminately: and some indeed under his bed, but some he hid elsewhere. At last when he found nothing at all to do with them; when at length he saw them spoiled, he departed, or threw them away, or set them before the beasts.

CHAPTER VI.

He sets forth the manner of extirpating vices, and of grafting virtues into the soul, by a similitude taken from agriculture.

[44] Since these things are so; it will help to receive from the same master the manner of overcoming and extirpating the depraved affections of the soul, which is interwoven into the twelfth Institution, As a field must be purged of weeds and their roots, On the fear of future torment, and is shown in an apt similitude of agriculture. If anyone, he says, has a field, and neglects it and withdraws cultivation; does it not, as much as he neglects it, get just as much filled with thorns and thistles? But if he approaches to clear it, will not the more it has abounded with thorns, the more his hands flow with blood, while he wishes to pull up that evil herb, which he permitted to grow up in the time of his negligence? For it cannot be, that one reap anything other than what he has sown. And he who would best clean his field, must first indeed pull up by the roots all the evil herbs: for unless he has rightly and from the bottom pulled out all their roots, but only cut them off at the surface, they sprout again. He wishes therefore, that one pull up the very roots, then plowed and prepared, that it may bear fruit; as I said; and after he has rightly cleaned the field of evil herbs and thorns and thistles, that he turn over and break the clods and subdue them with the plow; and then at last scatter the best seed. For if, after he has applied such industry, he permits it to lie idle; the herbs sprout at once, which, finding that earth soft and well subdued, cast their roots deeper, and grow stronger, and multiply in it.

[45] In like manner the matter of the soul stands. First indeed he wishes to be cut out from himself every old affection and evil habits. Hence divine Basil says, so they must be pulled out of the soul too, that it is no small contest, to overcome one's own habits. For a habit strengthened by long time obtains for the most part the force of nature. He wishes therefore that one contend, as I said, against evil habits and against passions; and not only this, but also against their causes, which are the roots. For unless the roots have been extirpated, the thorns must grow up again. For there are certain passions, which can do nothing, if one cuts off their causes. As envy in itself is nothing, but has certain causes, evil habits and their causes, of which one is the appetite for vainglory. For while one desires to be honored, he envies the one honored or preferred to him in honor. Likewise also anger arises from other causes, and chiefly from the love of pleasure. Of this Evagrius makes mention, when he narrates, that a certain Saint was wont to say: Therefore I remove pleasures, that I may cut off the occasions of anger. Nay even all the Fathers with one mouth assert, that any passion is born of one of these three, namely the love of glory, the love of money, or the love of pleasure, as I have said on various occasions. He wishes therefore, that one extirpate not only the passions, but also their causes, and so through penance and tears rightly compose his morals

his own; and then let him begin to sow the good seed, which are good works. then good works must be exercised. Since, as we said of the field, unless one casts good seed; evil herbs emerge; which, when they have found good and, from cultivation, soft earth, drive deeper roots in it. So too stand the affairs of man; if, after he has rightly composed his morals and done penance for his former deeds, he neglects to exercise good works and acquire virtues. For it is impossible for the soul to remain in the same state; but it is always advanced, either in good, or in evil. Therefore whoever wishes to be saved, has need not only not to do evil, but also to work good. …

[46] In the field, the seed must be covered with earth; He who sows his field ought moreover, as soon as he has cast the seed, to cover it and sink it deep into the earth itself. Since otherwise the birds come, and snatch the seed, and it perishes. But when he has hidden it, he awaits the mercy of God until he sends rain and the seed grows. For even if the farmer expends innumerable labors, both in cleaning the field and industriously cultivating it, and also in sowing; yet unless God has rained from above upon his seed, all his labor goes for naught. So too let us take pains, in the soul, the virtues with humility. that if we have done any good, we cover it with humility, and cast our infirmity upon God, asking him to favor our labor, that it go not in vain. Again sometimes it happens, that after the rain and the germination of the seed, the rain does not again fall at the opportune time, and the sprout withers and perishes: for as the seed, so too the sprout, needs the rain by which it may grow up, until it has been strengthened. As from the standing crops, But neither even after this can one be secure. For sometimes, even when they have grown up and made an ear, there comes upon them either the locust, or hail, or some other thing of this kind which destroys and kills the fruit. So too it comes about in the soul. For when one has labored strenuously, and cleaned it, as we said, of all the passions, so from good works the harmful must be kept off. and has been zealous for all the virtues; he ought altogether to attend to the mercy and protection of God, lest he abandon it and it perish. For, if after he has done such great things, God has turned away his protection even a little and abandoned him, forthwith it perishes.

[47] Again, just as, if the standing crop has suffered nothing evil in the earth, it has been preserved unharmed up to the harvest; The farmer cannot be secure, yet not even so ought the farmer to be without care. For it sometimes happens, that after one has reaped his whole field, and exhausted all his labor, there comes a depraved man, inflamed with hatred and envy, and casts fire into the crops, and destroys all that man's labor and fruit. unless the crops have been brought into the granary; Until therefore he has seen that he has rightly purged the whole, and put it into the granary, he cannot be secure. So too man, when he has been able to escape from all these things which we have said, ought not on that account to act securely. For it happens after all these things, that the devil finds something, by which to deceive him, either through self-justifications, or through pride, nor ought the Just man to be secure. or through the suggestions of unfaithful thoughts or of heretical depravity; and not only destroys all his labors, but even separates him himself from God; and if he has not been able against him through action, this he does to him through a single thought. For even a single thought can separate one from God, except by the reward of his justice obtained after life. if namely he has received it and consented to it. Wherefore he who wishes to be saved in truth, ought not to be secure up to his last breath. There is need therefore of no mediocre labor and care, and God must be assiduously prayed to, that he himself protect and save us by his goodness, to the glory of his holy name.

LIFE OF ST. DOROTHEUS THE YOUNGER, OR HE IN CHILIOCOMUS.

By the author, a contemporary Monk his disciple, afterward made Metropolitan of Euchaïta.

From the Greek Manuscript of the Vatican Library.

THE TRANSLATOR CONRAD JANNING.

Dorotheus the Theban, in Egypt (S.)

A. FROM A CONTEMPORARY, FROM A MANUSCRIPT.

CHAPTER I.

Dorotheus' birth, flight, monastic life, priesthood.

Greek text translated: Not only with old, but also with new narratives, ought Pontus to be adorned, so that it might be well esteemed on both sides, referring its present things to the likeness of those that have gone before, as to the nobility of ancestors, and confirming the glory of those former ones — which otherwise seems beyond belief because of its marvelousness — from the things of the present; and being attested, both by sight and by hearing, as fruitful and prolific in men devoted to virtue, with whom it has its whole surrounding region full; one in one part of it, another in another, having displayed at different times the accomplishment of the good, and indeed leaving behind the body too after the contests, somewhere there beside the place of his striving, as a sure pledge of salvation to those dwelling around. Of these one is also Dorotheus, the great among ascetics; I mean the younger one and of our own time; concerning whom there is much to say, and which requires a long treatise and history; but for us I think it will suffice to take few things out of many, for in place of many these will serve, even if they be not many; since these very things too are enough, to set forth the man as then in the highest degree a lover of wisdom, and exceedingly a lover of God, and moreover that he enjoyed an equal share of grace in these matters, and before departing hence, a pledge of that intimacy with God which has now received him.

This man therefore, so great a one, sprang from somewhere hereabouts, from a notable neighboring city, or rather the metropolis of a not nameless nation; for he was a Trebizondian; and of a family of the well-born, and of those who are first in rank; for his forefathers on his father's side were enrolled among the Patricians; and of these, not among those who from private men have but now first been summoned to this dignity; but among those to whom, as one might say, nobility belonged by inheritance, and whom even now they call "of-good-birth" (genesious), as something distinguished, the most illustrious of family, just as they apply such names as a certain "Heraclidae" and "Pelopidae." Having come forth then from these, and having passed the beginnings of his life, under teachers, decorously, and under tutors, as was fitting for one well-born; when first he reached his twelfth year, a most pleasant care was set upon his parents, and a consideration concerning him forthwith, and a most eager deliberation, to bind the free one with the bonds of marriage; for as yet the people did not know, that the boy was more nobly born in soul than in body, who indeed even before bodily maturity, thinking beyond the body, and from the very first immediately, looking to things higher than the common and customary, deemed it necessary to disdain flesh and blood, and to keep his whole self, both body and spirit, pure for the Spirit. For this reason therefore, and being otherwise unable to attain this chief desire of his, and to get the better of those opposing hindrances, he wisely steals himself away, and quickly a fugitive, the noble one, departing hence, went off.

And having wandered not a little, in search of a man to instruct him, as being altogether young and otherwise unaccustomed to a sojourn abroad, he comes at length to Amisus, and there finds what he desired, by divine prompting; John was for the fugitive the sought-for find; that John, much-versed in divine things, a man both otherwise borne by God, and adorned in soul with the gift of discernment. This wonderful man therefore happened just then to be laying the foundations of the most holy monastery according to him, which they call thus, somehow, "of Genna." Seeing then the fugitive stranger, having put in to this place with full sails, as they say, and using all zeal and eagerness, so as to be ranked with the place of those already being trained in asceticism with him; he receives him most gladly, being, as we said, an accurate diviner of the future through the purity of his mind, and takes him up with open hands; but first, having both applied and received every trial of the young man's disposition and resolve — such as the ascetic law is — both how he stood toward ready obedience, which of all things is most authoritative from this, and how toward labors and hardship, and whatever else is approved, to say in sum, which it is the custom to require of those stripping for this great wrestling-ground from those who preside, having sufficiently inquired even in this; Since he saw the noble one matched to all that befits the spiritual polity, and disposed estranged from nothing of the good, at last, taking courage, he tonsures him, and installs the worthy one in the sacred order. This was for Dorotheus the first and greatest of things desired, having thus indeed, like the psalmist's deer in thirst, run to this fountain of the Spirit, then quenched his thirst and gave rest to his longing, or rather much more kindled and provoked it, after the taste of sweetness, reasonably set aflame toward the loves of that sweetness, and always taking the present as fuel for what was lacking.

Beginning therefore from this point, and having laid hold of the good work and the sacred contests, what kind of form of ascetic virtue did he leave out? and to whom did he yield the primacy of good things? For straightway the wonderful man was appointed, as being in the prime of youth, and needing to wear down the body with toils unto subjection to the spirit, to minister to the needs of the brethren; and the common father and guide, supplying occasions from time to time to the young man's love of toil, for the display of achievements, it is not possible to say in what respect, more or less, this one proved more approved and shone forth; for all things were equal and alike and holding to one another, like a certain intricate golden chain — the nobleness, the eagerness, the reasonableness, the dexterity, the obeying the command sooner than it was commanded, the accomplishing of the work beyond hope; above all, the highest and greatest of all, the thinking that he was accomplishing nothing great, even when he had done the best of all; but looking to the Master's commandment, and after the fulfilling of all things, calling himself an unprofitable servant, and unworthy of the prayer and blessing of those being served. And thus, having passed a very long time in such works, and having been attested as dexterous as no other in the things pertaining to the service of men, he is thereupon judged worthy even of the divine liturgy, and having ministered well (for it is timely to use the apostolic word) he obtains for himself a good degree, having been fittingly deemed worthy to praise the Lord from the seat of the presbyters. This degree he was indeed entrusted to adorn exceedingly well by the works that befit it; and he adorned it, rather more than he was entrusted; thus he disposed himself with love of toil concerning this sacred liturgy, so that for whole sixty-two years, from the time he undertook the Presbyterate, he himself performed each day the rites of the holy mystagogy, without any pretext and quite without sloth; and thus philosophically and

Greek text translated: so purely, that after the new monastery (concerning which it will be told presently) and the migration to it, he neither set the traces of his feet outside its boundaries, nor endured that any woman at all should come into his sight; and of men too, he was wont most gladly to be together only with those who loved God, and who had made virtue, equally with himself, their continual study, but he turned away from the conversations of the others; and he was for the most part with himself and with God, not simply performing his prayers nor as one merely discharging a duty like anyone else, but watering the floor with everlasting showers of tears, and having his heart, in evangelical fashion, burning within himself with the divine fire of that wondrous compunction, and showing his face too, like the God-seer of old, from the same cause glorified, and almost something more than human sight. So did that holy man know how to honor the priesthood, and so again in turn to be honored back by it; and why should this not have befallen him, for whom his life thereafter shone so greatly, and who made the divine so familiar to him by such ministrations (that I may not linger going through each of the other matters) that the man was deemed worthy even of ineffable visions, and received a revelation of great mysteries, of which the end is the stewardship and salvation of souls, having taken a marvelous origin and beginning, but ending in an outcome better than all hope.

[1] It was fitting indeed that Pontus should be commended not only by an ancient, but also by a more recent narrative of deeds done, A Preface on the praises of Pontus so that its glory might become more celebrated on both sides, while those things which are now done, being like those which were of old done by the generosity of our ancestors, lend credence to these very things, otherwise incredible to future generations on account of their excessive marvelousness; and sight and hearing alike bear testimony to the disposition of those men fruitful for virtue, with whom the whole region round about widely abounds, men one after another, throughout its diverse parts and times, furnishing illustrious examples of virtues; nay even leaving behind, the course of life's wrestling-ground run, from time to time, in the place of contest the body as an undoubted token of salvation, destined to remain for those dwelling around.

[2] Of the number of these was also Dorotheus, that illustrious ascetic among the few: Dorotheus, born at Trebizond of a Patrician family I mean Dorotheus the Younger, who flourished in our age; concerning whom there is frequent discourse, needing much writing and narration: but for us I think few things will suffice out of many; since those few things too will hold the place of many, inasmuch as adapted to representing the man's supreme wisdom and supreme religion; and how greatly he was anticipated in those matters by grace, and how sure a pledge of that divine familiarity which he now enjoys he received before he migrated hence. Such therefore and so great a man once drew his origin from that region, inasmuch as born in a famous city, neighboring to Pontus, or rather in the Metropolis of a most illustrious nation. For he was a Trebizondian; deriving his descent from most noble parents, and these princes in the Magistracy; for his ancestors on his father's side were numbered among the Patricians, not those who had recently come from the plebs to that dignity; but those to whom nobility was, so to speak, hereditary; and who even now, on account of the notable glory of their lineage, like certain Heraclidae or Pelopidae, are praised.

[3] Sprung therefore from such parents, he passed the beginning of his life under the discipline of masters and pedagogues illustriously, to be placed in marriage at twelve years old, as befits a noble. As soon as he reached the twelfth year of his age, a sweet solicitude arose in his parents, considering and studiously consulting about placing their son in marriage. For thus far men did not know, that that boy excelled more in nobility of soul than of body, who before bodily age, wise beyond the body, from his tender years at once directed the keenness of his eyes to higher things than was thought and than others generally are wont, the fugitive withdraws himself from his father's house, holding it persuaded, that the message must be sent back to flesh and blood, and that his whole self, both body and mind, must be reserved in purity for the spirit. And so despairing that he could otherwise become master of his most ardent desire and break through the obstacles impeding it; he secretly withdraws himself and, going away thence, takes to swift flight: in which, wandering long while seeking for himself a suitable instructor, inasmuch as quite young and otherwise unaccustomed to travels, he came at length to Amisus; where he found the desired and sought-for master by the will of God. and brought to Amisus He was John, whom the fugitive was seeking and, having sought, found: John, I say, that one, who knew well divine matters and others by the inspiration of the holy Spirit, and had a soul adorned with the gift of perspicacity.

[4] This admirable John was even then occupied in laying the foundations of his most holy monastery, and John, then building the monastery Genna, which they commonly call Genna, that is, of the Nativity: and when he had beheld the fugitive guest, brought there, as is wont to be said, with full sails, and applying all zeal and talent, that he might be enrolled in the number of the disciples who were then being taught the monastic discipline by him: he receives the youth with a most sweet countenance and embraces him with open arms; namely by the perspicacity of his mind, which we have mentioned, cleverly foreseeing the future. Then having first brought forward and applied all trials, trials having been applied beforehand, in order to test the mind and disposition of the youth, as the monastic laws require, he asked, how he was disposed toward obedience, which among the other virtues holds the first place; how he was animated toward bearing labors and pains; and, to say it briefly, whatever else by rule those who are to be received into this great wrestling-ground of virtue ought to be asked by their Superiors, he examined him sufficiently. But after he found that the youth approved all things which pertain to the institute of the religious life, and meditated nothing alien to perfection; adding courage to him, he is tonsured a Monk; he shaved his hair, and led him, as one altogether worthy of that place, into the temple.

[5] And that indeed was the first and greatest of Dorotheus' desires: who thence, in the manner of the deer of which the Psalmist speaks, running in thirst, and by his desire for perfection at this spiritual fountain, both relieved his thirst and extinguished his desire; nay rather kindled it and excited it the more. For after he had tasted its sweetness, he was inflamed with a more vehement desire of perceiving the same; and always what was present at hand excited in him as he partook the longing for that which was absent. Hence then having begun the illustrious institute of his life, and having entered the sacred wrestling-ground, what kind of monastic virtues did he omit? to whom did he yield the first place in the exercise of good works? For straightway at the beginning, because, being in the first flower of his age, he ought to subject the body to the spirit through labors and afflictions; he applies himself to various virtues, he was ordered to serve the necessities of the Brothers. To this, the Father of all and common master furnishing the laborious youth occasions one after another of exercising himself, for the illustration of his good works; it is difficult to say, in which he came out and appeared more or less notable. For all the ornaments of his virtues were equal among themselves and most alike, and connected like a golden chain of many links; namely the greatness and promptitude of his mind, prudence, wisdom, obedience anticipating the command, the execution of works more perfect than could be hoped; finally, what is the chief and greatest of all, that estimation of himself by which he thought nothing illustrious was done by him, although he wrought all the most illustrious things; but looking to the Lord's precept, when he had fulfilled all things, he himself called himself an unprofitable servant, and unworthy of the prayers and blessing of those who serve God.

[6] When he had given his effort for a very long time to such exercises and to the service of men, and had been proved to show himself so prompt as no one more; and initiated into the Priestly order he was also judged worthy to be applied to the divine Sacrifice of the Mass; and excellently discharging his ministry (for the Apostle's saying makes for the matter) he acquired for himself a good degree, by merit worthy to praise the Lord in the chair of the elders. 1 Tim. 3 This kind of degree, by the works befitting it, he was entrusted to adorn most excellently; but he adorned it in fact more than he was entrusted: for he wrought at the most holy Sacrifice with such diligence, that for whole sixty-two years, from the time he was initiated into the Priestly order, he leads a life worthy of it, he offered the holy Host to God daily, suffering himself to be impeded from his institute by no cause, by no torpor. And with such prudence and purity; that after the new monastery was built, of which there will soon be discourse, and the migration to it was made, he never set foot outside its enclosures, nor endured that any woman at all should come into his sight. He conversed most sweetly only with those men who burned with love of God and engaged, as he did, in perpetual exercises of virtue; but he declined the company of those who were otherwise disposed. He dealt for the most part with himself and with God, through wondrous exercises of virtues. not only paying to Him his prayers, as others are wont; but meanwhile also perpetually wetting the pavement with a shower of tears: for he bore about a heart, according to the Gospel, wondrously burning within himself with the divine flame of compunction, and from the same cause he displayed a countenance, like him of old who had seen God, glorified and exhibiting something greater than human appearance. Luke 24:32 So did that holy man know how to honor the Priesthood; so again was he himself honored by the Priesthood. For what less could befall him, whose remaining life from then on so excelled, and who handled the divine thing with such observance, that he was deemed worthy even of secret visions (not to pursue each of the man's deeds) and received a revelation of great mysteries? whose end is the direction and salvation of souls; which had a marvelous beginning and occasion, but obtained an outcome better than all hope.

CHAPTER II.

He suffers ecstasies, and divinely ordered builds a monastery and church.

Greek text translated: What then was the manner, and whence? He is sent once, on a certain business, by the great father, for what was needful. For not even after the venerableness of the priesthood did he cease from serving the brethren, by the greatness of his humility, and by the height of his eagerness. But when he had had enough of the most excellent submission; and it was necessary that he who had learned to be ruled and to obey to such a degree, should now himself also rule others, and be called truly great in the kingdom of the heavens, not only having done submission, but also having taught it — here the tokens of the divine visitation, and from this point grace already betroths to itself the one worthy of it.

The third hour of the day overtakes the noble one as he journeys; and he ran into one of the wayside churches, for the sake of prayer (for this was his custom, even if the most pressing matters of all urged him); and the church was that of Anna, as the story goes, the holy grandmother of our Savior. Having passed inside therefore, and giving his knees to the floor, but lifting up to heaven his hands and eyes and mind, he became wholly in an ecstasy; and after a time having scarcely come back to himself, he uttered three times in succession: "Holy Trinity, glory to thee." At that time then, since the one who had appeared perhaps signified nothing further, and besides he thought this voice came to him otherwise, he kept the wonder in silence with himself, being at once perplexed, and looking around on every side at the power of the mystery. Not much was there in the interval, and again, having been sent on a certain liturgy, he is taught straightway more perfectly and more clearly the ineffable thing; and thus he is taught.

As he was going along the foot of this hill, which now bears upon itself that sacred monastery of his, a certain more divine vision met him in the form of a monk; and the monk was grey-haired, of priestly dignity in his robe, of godlike form in his appearance. This one therefore, addressing the holy man by name, said: "Do you see, child Dorotheus, this height that lies above?" and at the same time he pointed out the hill with his hand; "This," he said, "was once a dwelling-place of many great men, having a holy sanctuary, honored by the invocation of the more-than-divine Trinity; which now is seen only in ruins; which must rise again through you more magnificently, and the place be inhabited more honorably, in honor of the Trinity; for this is its will. But do you nevertheless remember these things in due time, and, making no pretext, obey; and as for the rest, be of good hope; for the Trinity will care for all things." So then he who had appeared, having said these things, was straightway out of sight; but fear at once seized the one who had seen and heard, and a joy too great for words; struck, as was likely, by the marvelousness of the vision, and having his soul filled with tumult; rejoicing nevertheless, at the disclosure and clearness of the formerly ineffable thing, and that not in vain, according to that vision, had the Trinity been pronounced by him with full tongue the third time.

He was not yet, however, able to perceive any end of the matter, but the solution of the former was, as it seems, the beginning of a second perplexity; this on the one hand troubling his sense of order, and as not permitted to him, lying still under command and accomplishing obedience, to do anything great or small contrary to the will of the one leading him; and this, on the other, to one who prudently considered his own measure, and who reckoned himself in no way sufficient either for pastoral knowledge, or for the expense or the care of so great a work and matter; and besides, an unspeakable longing, like that of the inescapable Sirens, held him toward his teacher, and he would endure to suffer anything rather than be deprived of him. He then was in these straits and wrestled with these reasonings; but these things, as it turned out, could not escape the one who sees, who was none other, but was that very one, the guide and teacher of this wondrous father, to whom even now, as always, he makes all things known, though he be far away, the one who uncovers deep things and lays bare hidden things.

For when he had returned after the fulfillment of his service, the teacher, waiting a little, calls the holy man, and says, "Why do you delay, O child Dorotheus? have you perchance somehow forgotten the one who gave the oracle and the things he enjoined?" And seeing the holy man suddenly thrown into confusion at the marvelousness of the word, and as if astonished by some thunderclap, he both restored him little by little, and recalled him with kindness, and at last, laying on his hands, brought him back. And he, having come both to himself and to his father's feet, supplicated, entreated, implored, with kisses, tears, clasping of hands, he tended those beautiful feet. For what did he not say? what of the things sufficient to draw a compassionate soul to pity did he not do? through all of which he begged off this one thing and only this, calling the separation from that man outright a separation from God and a loss of soul, and being grievously affected toward this, and stretching himself in protest exceedingly past bearing.

But the Great one again consoling, "It is not," he said, "O child, it is not possible to be otherwise, for you know that the command is divine, not human; and the things which God the holy has determined, who shall scatter, and who shall turn back his lofty hand? It is not lawful then to disobey the more divine dispensations; for this is not only inexpedient, but altogether impossible. And if it be the will, nothing at all shall hinder me from visiting you again, even if you dwell at the ends of the earth, and from giving you my accustomed counsel, and from setting you in order in the things of the spirit." Which indeed, as he had promised, he did not cease doing afterward, the truthful servant of the truth. And then, since he heard these things beyond hope and expectation, that man swift in obedience and without pretext, the true child of obedience, was no longer resisting, not disobeying, not forcing himself; but giving his whole self to grace, and to the good pleasure of the Most High, he departs straightway, as had been commanded, toward the place pointed out by the vision, or rather he approaches it; for this was that place, this the one seen from the neighborhood, and now bearing and nourishing so great a flock of monks, dwelling there in hope, as it is written, out of what was before uninhabited, both with bodily food, and much more with that of the soul, which is for them the whole purpose, and for which are the spiritual and saving contests.

Toward this place that man, sent both by God and by that great father and instructor, giving the matter to no single delay nor to any hesitation, laid hold of the work, and joined labors to labors and sweats to sweats, clearing, carrying out, leveling with his own hands, the noble one; for the place was full of wild brush, full of debris, and of all manner of rubbish. At the first then he seemed to labor at fruitless things and manifestly to attempt impossibilities, intending to establish the building of a church and the constituting of a monastery in a deserted and pathless land; and these things as a stranger among strangers, poor, homeless, unknown, bereft of all help and support; since he was also utterly alone, save that he had one fellow-worker, Basil the good, whom, being of his own circle, he had taken as fellow-traveler and fellow-athlete, having asked for him from the father; with whom laboring at the start and matching himself against so great a contest, he was not after all destined to be abandoned to the end by divine providence.

But quickly the neighbors, perceiving the matter, and judging most wisely among themselves that these things could not come about without God, lay hold of the works together with him with all zeal and hand, showing eagerly with money and bodies and in all ways their cooperation; out of which (to sum up the whole) both the sanctuary in a little while, and the monastery after a little, are brought together into the form in which they are now seen; time too, namely, contributing some brief addition, since it was brief, to the things then accomplished. This then is the cause, and this the account, of the man's sojourn in this place; and this the work, and this the manner, of his dwelling and love of toil here; or rather the work is not this, but as it were a certain starting-point and laying of the foundation of the true work; toward which all these things tend and bear, I mean the working of the good, and the practice and accomplishment of the angelic polity, which he began, and which he left to those after him; having received the first principles from the great father, as it were certain elements, toward this rule of exactness, of which he received the written models from the ordinances of Arsenius the great, like another Moses receiving the God-engraved tablets (and this Arsenius was that one renowned for virtue among the monks, who also of the Rock called the Golden — not far from that — best of all ruled and led) and he himself too, having additionally devised many things of his own, and having woven them together into this intricate crown of ascetic comeliness, both for an abundance of beauty, and also as a basis for greater benefit. For what of good things is not philosophically practiced among them? Is not long-suffering? Is not gentleness? Is not contempt of present things? Is not desire of things to come? Is not meekness? Is not purity? Is not poverty according to the spirit? Are not all the things of the blessed or otherwise praised? And freedom from possessions, and frugality, and self-control in all things, the love of toil toward wakefulness, the insatiableness in singing psalms, the intensity in prayers, the meditation of divine things, the love of strangers, the love of the poor, as far as it is among present things? To seek and busy oneself with absolutely nothing of bodily things, but only the things of the spirit, except for whatever is wholly necessary, and without which clearly it is altogether impossible for the bond of the soul to the body to remain; and this too, no less than the rest, both spiritual and apostolic, not to be burdensome to any in asking the things for their need, nor to give any hindrance to the accomplishment of the good by being a dead weight to others in these matters; but to work with their own hands, when it is necessary, and to help themselves through themselves toward necessities; but that going-about outside, which many of the simpler ones practice, for the collecting of things needful for those engaged in asceticism, to share from what is at hand, to spare wholly and to abstain altogether, that the work of justice may remain for them unoffending on every side, and that the conscience of none of all may be struck on account of any of the things done by them; rather indeed, if there be any power, to share their own labors readily with others; that thence too the wonder of virtue may be greater, with the philosophic poverty being rich even in giving; since Paul too the

Greek text translated: his hands, he proclaims as ministers not only to his own needs, but also to those who were with him. Looking to which example, that apostolic man — nor perhaps would it be much to say that he was also an apostle — both trained himself most excellently toward this, and educated his own. And now one may see, among the other good things, this too earnestly pursued among them: the labor of the hands, only so far as this is a secondary work, while the true work is another, namely the liturgy and worship of the divine through every form, which I know not whether is anywhere else more accomplished than here; so that the good may be for them complete and full on every side and perfect, supplied sufficiently from bodily things, and abundantly from spiritual things, toward its completion.

[7] Sent somewhere on business In what manner then and from what beginning did these things come about? Dorotheus was sent once by his spiritual father, to attend to some business: for not even after he had been raised to the venerable order of the Priesthood did he cease from discharging the ministries of the Brothers with great humility and alacrity of mind. But when he had excellently fulfilled all the parts of a subordinate, it behooved him, who had learned to be under others and to obey in such great matters, at last himself also to command others, and to be called truly great in the kingdom of heaven; since he not only did what is of a subordinate, but also taught, that subjection is a sign of divine visitation, on account of which the grace of God too had betrothed him to itself through love. When therefore the third hour of the day had overtaken the excellent man as he went where he had been sent, he turns aside from the road into a church, he betook himself at a run for the sake of prayer to one of the churches set beside the road, as was his custom, although he was pressed with most grave business: and the church was called of St. Anne, the grandmother of our Savior. Having entered inside therefore he placed his knees on the ground; and with hands, eyes, mind lifted up to heaven, he went wholly into an ecstasy; and at last scarcely restored to himself, he cried out a third time: and first Holy Trinity, glory to thee. And then indeed, the vision perhaps indicating nothing further, he supposed that voice had escaped him without cause: and pressing the mystery in silence in his bosom, he was at once uncertain in mind, at once considered diligently, what it meant. Nor did much time intervene, when again, sent somewhere for the sake of some ministry, he was taught the mystery more perfectly and more plainly, in this manner.

[8] As he chanced to be walking at the foot of this hill, which now displays on its summit this his sacred monastery, and again having suffered an ecstasy, there was set before him a certain divine vision of a man in the habit of a Monk, venerable with grey hair, becomingly adorned with sacred vesture, exhibiting something divine in his face; who, addressing the Saint by his name; Do you see, he said, son Dorotheus, that which lies above here? and at the same time he pointed out the height with his hand; That, he said, was once a dwelling, inhabited by many illustrious men, adorned with a venerable temple, distinguished by the appellation of the most divine Triad, he is ordered to build a temple to the Holy Trinity: of which now only the ruined walls are seen surviving. That very one must be raised up again through you more magnificently, and inhabited more splendidly, to the honor of the most holy Trinity, whose will so stands. But do you take care to remember these things in your time, and obey without delay. For the rest, be of good cheer and hope: for the holy Triad will have care of all things. These things said, he who appeared straightway vanished from sight: but he himself who had seen the one appearing, and heard him speaking, was seized alike with fear and joy beyond what can be told: struck with fear indeed and disturbed in mind, by the unaccustomed vision as is fitting; but at the same time anointed with joy, because he now saw declared and explained the mystery which had before befallen him; But deterred thence on account of the difficulties, and he said that not in vain had the most holy Trinity been called upon by him a third time, in that former vision, with all his might. Yet he could not altogether grasp the outcome of the matter; but the solution of the first doubt, as usual, was the beginning of another, partly to one shrinking from the command, and supposing that to himself, placed under another's precepts, and living under obedience, nothing at all was permitted beyond the will of his director, whether it be great or small; partly also to one considering his own measure, and altogether thinking that there was not available to him either pastoral knowledge to govern, or the means and providence to accomplish so great a work: especially since he was held by an incredible longing, like that of the inescapable Sirens, toward his Master, ready to undergo anything rather than to withdraw from his company.

[9] By such thoughts was he agitated, and wrestled with himself: which could not lie hidden from the one who sees; namely, the director and master of this wondrous Father; to whom even now, as always, he is encouraged by his Master, taught the command divinely, though far absent, all things were known, accustomed to reveal the depths, and to disclose hidden things. For the Saint, having returned from the completed ministry, after a brief delay, he calls to himself, and says: Why do you turn aside, my son Dorotheus? Has forgetfulness seized you of him who divinely admonished you, and of the commands which he gave? speak. But when he saw him disturbed by the unexpected discourse and as it were stupefied by some thunder; he refreshed him somewhat as he was failing in spirit and gently recalled him, and is brought to the designated place, and at last, taking him by the hands, brought him back. But he, retracing both his own and his fathers' footsteps, supplicated, prayed, besought; with kisses, tears, embracing of hands he venerated the beautiful feet of his director. For what did he not say? what did he not do of those things which are born to move a merciful soul to compassion? begging this one and only thing, lamenting much and praying, that he not be separated from his master; which he plainly called a separation of himself from God and a loss of his soul, and asserted to be most grievously to be borne, indeed intolerable to him. But the illustrious Director again consoling him; It cannot, he said, my son, it cannot be otherwise: for you know, that this command proceeds from God, not from man. And the things which God, who is holy, has established, who shall scatter? and his hand, which is exalted, who shall turn away? It is not therefore right not to obey the divine disposition: for that would be not only useless, but also altogether impossible. We moreover, if so it please you, nothing at all will hinder, from visiting you, though you tarry in the farthest regions of the lands, intending to give you counsel in our manner, and to direct you in spiritual matters.

[10] When these things had been said, the faithful minister of truth deferred no longer to carry out the matter set before him; and yielding at last to the will of God but those things being heard beyond hope and opinion, at once the true son of obedience allowed himself to be persuaded; bringing no excuse, adducing nothing to the contrary, dissenting in nothing; but without any violence committed himself wholly to grace; and with willing mind choosing what was more fitting, he went at once, or rather came, as he had been ordered, to the place designated by the vision. That place namely, which, widely visible from the neighborhood, though it was before uninhabitable, now has and nourishes so numerous a flock of Monks dwelling there in hope, as it is written, with food both bodily, and much more spiritual, of which they make the chief account, and for the sake of which they undertake the spiritual and salutary contests. To this place Dorotheus, sent by God and by his great father and instructor, set about the work without any turning aside, without any ambiguity; and added labors to labors and sweats to sweats, by cleaning out the place with his own hands, he sets about the work confidently, leveling it, carrying out the harmful debris: for it was very wooded, and filled with ruins and rubble of every kind. Wherefore at the beginning indeed he seemed to do a thing already done, and to wish to attempt what cannot be done; when he took into his mind to build a church and construct a monastery in a deserted and pathless land; and that as a stranger among strangers, poor, with one companion: an exile, unknown, deprived of all help and counsel. For altogether alone, he had no helper except one Basil, a good man, whom from those standing around him he had asked for and obtained from the common Father as a companion of his pilgrimage and contests: with whom both making the beginning of his labor, and undertaking such great contests, he was not to be abandoned in the end by divine providence. For the peoples dwelling around, but soon he is helped by many. soon perceiving what the matter was, and wisely judging among themselves that such things could not come about save with God as mover; with all zeal and effort applied their hand too to the work; with money, strength, and other means alacriously contributing their help and labor: whence both the temple (to say it briefly) in a short time, and a little after the monastery too, were brought to that form in which they are now seen: although time too, though brief, added some slight increase to those things which were then done.

[11] And this indeed is the cause and reason of the pilgrimage undertaken by Dorotheus to that place: this his work, this his manner of living and laboring there: nay rather that was not his work, but in a way the occasion and foundation of a better work, toward which he directed and referred all these things; toward the working, I mean, of virtue, and the exercise and institute of the angelic conversation, which he himself began and left to his successors there. And the first principles indeed, which he wished to be a rule for his own, he borrowed from his great Father as it were certain elements; the Rule of Arsenius, and their form, described from the precepts of that famous Arsenius, he received, like another Moses, tablets engraved by the finger of God. And this Arsenius was most renowned for virtue among the Monks, and who first of all began and ruled the Golden, as they call it, Rock, not far removed from there. But Dorotheus himself, adding many things found by himself to those, augmented by himself, he gives to his own, interwove the same into his manifoldly-plaited crown of ascetic comeliness, both to increase its beauty more, and to lay the foundation of greater utility. For what kind of virtue was not exercised by them? Was it long-suffering? was it modesty? was it contempt of present things, or love of those to come? was it meekness? was it purity? was it poverty of spirit? was it finally anything of all those things which can render a man blessed or are otherwise praiseworthy? who flourish in every kind of virtue Further, poverty, frugality, temperance in all things, zeal for watching, insatiable ardor for singing psalms, intentness in prayer, meditation of divine things, charity toward pilgrims and beggars alike, what part are these of those things which it is easy to relate?

[12] It is of them to seek and pursue nothing at all of the things which pertain to the body, but only those which pertain to the soul, unless the highest necessity press and they be such things, without which life can in no way be sustained. It is of them this too, no less than the other things spiritual and apostolic, that when from necessity

they ask for something, they be burdensome to no one, nor yet place an obstacle to the illustrious exercise of virtue through such neglect of bodily things; but they work with their own hands, when there is need, and help themselves through themselves in their necessities; but that care of external affairs, in which many of the simpler ones so anxiously engage in collecting necessities for those practicing asceticism, they take pains to transfer to easily-procurable things; or rather they abstain from these altogether, that they may everywhere be able to exercise the works of justice without offense and scandal, and that no one's conscience be distressed about any of their works: but if the means be available, they make others alacriously partakers of their labors, so that even hence the force of virtue may be more admirable, which both pursues philosophic poverty, and distributes to others with opulent hand; since Paul too proclaims, that his hands ministered the necessities not only to his own, but also to the uses of his companions. Acts 20:34 Having this example set before himself, that Apostolic man, indeed I would even call him an Apostle, exercised himself excellently in those things, and instructed his own. Now indeed it must be considered by us, along with their other deeds, that too in which they earnestly engage, namely manual labor, inasmuch as this was only a secondary occupation; while the primary consisted in this, that they offer worship and sacrifices of every kind to God, nor do I know whether by anyone anywhere with greater accuracy than by these men here: so that they possess a good entire and on every part complete and perfect, as to the body indeed, sufficiently; but as to the soul, abundantly and with the most absolute perfection.

CHAPTER III.

The miracles and death of the Saint.

Greek text translated: Such then was the wondrous lawgiving and polity of the great one, and such too the lawgiver, who established this great and divine commonwealth; which alone would have sufficed, to become a sufficient proof of the man's virtue, and how God cared for him, and how he in turn cared for God, who glorifies those who glorify him, and thus honors back those who honor him. Nevertheless, since the multitude of the graces that flowed upon him from there is borne about on the mouths of the many, by which the ears of those who love to hear are rather wont somehow to be roused, fairly greedy for the hearing of newer things, come then let us too now take up a few of the man's marvels, into our narrative concerning him, and these as briefly as possible; lest, seeking to gratify the love of novelty of our hearers, we unwittingly wear them out by the length of the discourse.

The first and greatest of those things is his habit and perfection concerning discernment, or the contemplative faculty, as one might say; to which the practical sealed it, having reasonably grown rich in the more abundant illumination from above, on account of the purity of his soul. And the examples of this. It was the season of summer and the time of midday; the eyes of the one who sees ran ahead, and he himself too straightway ran ahead and cried out at such an unseasonable hour, proclaiming an assembly to the brethren; and when they ran together quickly, as was likely, with astonishment at the strange thing (for it was not yet the time of the evening hymns), Let us give, O children and brothers, he said, let us give together glory to God, who beyond all hope has now saved so-and-so from the depth of the sea; adding the name too. Having said these things, nothing else, but only wondering, he led them to the synaxis. Not many were the days between, and that man, driving to the monastery, suddenly fell in, calling upon the Savior, the Deliverer, the Giver of life, with a loud voice, and laying hold with both hands, as he had it with warmth and speed, of those sacred feet; nor did he let go before, nor rise up, although forced by all, until with tears he set forth in tragic detail to those present the whole drama concerning himself; how, according to an imperial command, he was sailing the Astacene gulf, and how he fell into a terrible surge, by which he was baptized down together with the ship along with his fellow-sailors; and being submerged, and already seeming to have violently breathed out his last in the waters, he saw a sweet face, and heard a most longed-for voice, bidding him take courage; the Father himself, and stretching out a saving hand at the same time; clinging to which as to a sacred anchor, beyond faith, he said, beyond all expectation, in a manner better than all words, unharmed by evils I was cast forth upon the dry land; and behold I am here now to render the thank-offerings and gifts of gratitude to thee who saved me, Father. The time of the accident was marked off in correspondence to the time of the prediction, and the same being found to match the one who had suffered and those who had heard beforehand, it produced an equal astonishment.

Such then was one of the great one's miracles, if indeed but one; since it has both foreknowledge, and prediction, and the power, beyond man, toward the unhoped-for salvation of men. But another, or rather others; for now we must abridge, and narrate as one the many and similar things, even if each of them happened at different times. Brothers of that sacred flock, going forth sometimes for some private need, were rather sluggish about returning; and when the shepherd often recalled them, and urged those who delayed, calling the matter unbecoming, nor profitable to those thus deserting their post beyond what was needful; but they, making now one excuse, now another for their faults, kept putting off their return; the holy man no longer in proverbs, but plainly foretold to them the end of their life, if they did not return more quickly, given as they were to their own customs. He did not persuade by foretelling, but he persuaded by showing your predictions coming to pass. For very brief was the interval thereafter, and as the great one threatened, most pitiably did each meet the wages of his disobedience, finding outside the court of the Lord a shameful death.

Such then was the one who sees; but the powerful one, how great? They had certain necessary buildings of the monastery, in progress; a huge stone then, being moved by a machine, when it had crushed the machine by its weight, was borne with a swift rush, having broken loose, down the slope, and was just about to fall upon the builders over their heads. And there was at once the greatest fear at the danger, and a cry from all with helplessness. But the Father being present did not keep silent, for at once his hands were stretched out to God, hands pure and holy, and a holy prayer mingled with tears; having the invocation of the holy Trinity; and the evil (O the wonder! O the virtue that can do all things easily!) stood still on the spot, and clearly indicated the one who had stopped it; for the stone, as if standing in awe of the one who restrained it, was both driven back, and ceasing from its rush it stood still, witnessing even now to the wonder-working power; since it is fearful even still to those who behold it no less, lying in a slippery and altogether precipitous place, not seeming to lie, but as it were to hang suspended, and to be hanging from above over those walking below, like some other man of fable, even a Tantalus.

And of how great a thing he partook, even the very secondary things of his hands, namely blessing. There was the care of a vineyard, for those of the monks appointed to this; and they were working with love of toil, while he, standing over them and accompanying them at the same time, secretly threw grains of pulse along the ground, gently covering them over with his feet. Now what was sown did not reach even a tenth part of a medimnus, but what was rendered in season (who, O God of the just, shall declare thy mighty acts?) amounted to whole thirty medimni. Many such marvels of the man could one at leisure, in a truth-loving way, enumerate, gathering them not from hearsay, but bringing forward those very men who received each of these things by sight, for the most accurate confirmation of the things said; since indeed the report concerning these things reached even to the Emperors themselves, virtue making the worker of it illustrious, and, as is its law, raising it to great glory; in whom it produced so great reverence and honor toward the Saint, that both the other things were reckoned by these to be greater than according to man in the man, and that his divine work (I mean this new and venerable monastery) obtained imperial providence, both contributing toward the expense, and bestowing on him the warding off of every burden, namely of these external things; by which always, and now especially, all things are vexed, and through which human life is harmed by oppression. To so great a degree of greatness and of wonder was the glory of the Great one's achievements raised, and thus his life shone forth into nearly the whole inhabited world.

And what kind of death too? (For why should we prolong the discourse further?) how wonderful that one too, and truly worthy of such a life; the gift being active here too, in the soul filled with grace. For while as yet nothing irregular troubled his body, nor any trace of weakness appeared, he himself foretold that his end was just about to draw near; and he deemed it right that he too should take his proper portion, if anything belonged to the monastery, that I may have, he said, provision for the journey toward the migration thither. And quickly those poor rich men, having readily brought all things into the midst (for so they had long been trained by him toward ready obedience), there was distributed in haste to those dwelling around the half part; and they were most cheap, as was likely, and altogether very poor coverings and utensils, and those set apart for the reception and service of strangers; and moreover whatever of necessities had been laid up beforehand for their sustenance, and yet the lover of the poor did not depart uncommunicating even of these toward mercy. Three days from then, and rising rather early, he went around the little dwellings of the brethren, both meeting them together and individually, and rolling at the feet of each, the very pattern of the truly exalting humility, he asked from all prayer and pardon of his faults. And while they tended the Father with the reverence of prostration and with piety, and fulfilled what was fitting with embraces and tears and reclinings down to the ground in turn, midday passed. There indeed especially was the affectionate one full of much feeling, exhorting each to partake of food, and that it was right not to toil with him further, as one no longer laboring about the common things according to custom, but now at least necessarily occupied about his own affairs, and not wishing to trouble his household members about their household matters. They then resisted, distressed for a long while, while these pressed the more, forcing him; until, having yielded a little to him who does all things, they ran together again with haste at once; and finding the Saint praying more intently, abashed they stood by; until at some point that man, ceasing from prayer, permitted some to sing psalms. But he himself, having reclined, how might one say it, gently and graciously, and lifting up his feet, in peace according to that which is written fell asleep and slept, sleeping truly not death, but the sleep that befits the just as is truly fitting; and there was added in this manner to his Fathers

Greek text translated: this our holy Father, and a son of the kingdom of God, to which he so graciously departed, hastening to the prize of the heavenly calling, and passing over in a transcendent manner to the rest from there, out of the hardship here; so that his end was no less worthy of wonder than his life. Such was Dorotheus' sojourn upon earth, such his God-loving acts and works, so abundant his graces; and such again too was his removal hence, fairly worthy and becoming, and as it were a certain golden coping-stone fittingly set upon the man's polity; by whose intercessions before the divine, whom he well pleased, we pray that we too may please, at least so far as our state and, I mean, our power allows; since the Goodness knows how out of his love of mankind to rejoice even in the least, and to stretch out a hand toward better things to those of good will; and the Saint is able to fill up what is lacking; since here too kindness was for him the chief of good things, and there now again (we do not disbelieve) as it abides, with a certain, I well know, not ignoble increase, inasmuch as he has now drawn especially near to the fountain of good things; from which, having drawn the good richly and abundantly, he has already long both served and done good to many himself, and thence has been so far justified, and will do still more, and will display his love of the good toward all of us who still remain and are alive, and tarry meanwhile in this place of trial; until even us the rewarder of that man shall call to the rest there, and let me say also refreshment, to whom befits all glory, honor, and worship, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

[13] Such therefore was the wondrous institution and conversation of Dorotheus, such the lawgiver himself, The holiness of Dorotheus is discerned from his rule who established this sublime and divine manner of living: which one thing may suffice in place of many arguments, to prove the man's virtue, and to discern how God was a care to him and he in turn to God, who glorifies those who glorify him and likewise honors those who honor him. But indeed since the multitude of graces and gifts, flowing thence into the holy man, is on the mouths of many; who, as they are eager to hear, are wont more keenly to direct their ears to narratives of new things; come let us too bring forward into the midst a few of his miracles, and that with as much brevity as possible; lest, wishing by the novelty of speech to deserve well of our hearers, and from the gift of contemplation. we imprudently dull their ears by the prolixity of the discourse. And the first and greatest of all the miracles in the Man is, that habitually and perfectly he penetrated or contemplated divine things; and what he had known should be done, he completed in deed, whence he was also deemed worthy of more abundant illuminations from heaven, as is fitting, on account of the purity of his soul. But behold the examples.

[14] Though absent, he snatches a shipwrecked man from the danger of death, It was the summer season, and the day had grown hot at noon, when suddenly the eyes of the one who sees ran ahead; and he himself too ran ahead swiftly, and cried out at an unseasonable hour, summoning the Brothers to an assembly: and as they at once, as is fitting, gathered and were astonished at the novelty of the matter (for it was not yet the time of Vespers), Let us give, he said, my Sons and Brothers, let us give glory to God, who just now beyond all hope has snatched someone from the depth of the sea (he added the name too) safe and unharmed. Having said these things he fell silent, and dismissed them wondering to the Synaxis. Not many days intervened, when that very man hastily approaches the monastery, calling with a loud voice upon his savior and deliverer, who had restored life to him; and holding his venerable feet, seized with both hands with as much alacrity and affection as he could, he did not let go or rise from the ground, though forced by all, before he had set forth to those present the whole series of his fortune: how, sailing by the King's command through the Astacene gulf, he had fallen into a violent storm; by which the ship being overturned with its passengers, he himself sought the bottom; and, just about to be violently suffocated by the waters, he saw a gentle vision, and heard a most longed-for voice; by which he was bidden to conceive confidence from the holy Father, who at the same time stretched out a helping hand. Which he, grasping as a sacred anchor, beyond all hope, he said, and expectation, having suffered no harm, in an utterly inexplicable manner, was cast forth onto the dry land; and these rewards of my preserved safety and gifts of gratitude I am now here to render to you, my savior, Father. After these things the time was observed, at which that accident and the prediction were made; and it was found to have been altogether the same: which moved admiration in all alike, both in him who had been endangered, and in those who had foreknown the danger. And such indeed was one of his miracles; if however but one: inasmuch as it comprises both foreknowledge, and prophecy, and a virtue greater than human, for rendering to men unhoped-for salvation. But another, or rather there are others, which must now be contracted, and many and manifold things narrated in the manner of one, although each of them happened at one time and another.

[15] It happened that certain Brothers of that sacred assembly went off somewhere for the sake of private necessity, Brothers lingering outside the monastery against his will and interposed longer delays as to their return. And when their Superior Dorotheus had often recalled them and urged those who delayed, he kept saying that the thing being done was unworthy and of little profit to those who thus lingered beyond what was becoming: but they brought forward one excuse after another in their faults, deferring their return. Then no longer in parables, but openly he foresignified death to them, unless, as quickly as they could, they returned to their former manner of living. But he persuaded the obstinate nothing by foretelling, he foretells death. but he persuaded by proving what he had foretold. For a very brief time elapsed from then, when each, as he had threatened, carrying off the wretched wages of his unfaithfulness, met an ignominious death outside the house of the Lord. And such indeed was he from the gift of prophecy; but from the grace of miracles, how great! The Monks were occupied about some building necessary to them, when a huge rock broke by its weight the machine Greek: a great rock rushing upon the workmen by which it was being lifted, and with great force rushed headlong, about to strike upon the heads of the builders. Straightway a huge terror ran through their minds at the danger before their eyes; and all raised a horrendous cry with despair, except Dorotheus, who being present despaired of nothing. For his hands were at once lifted to God, hands pure and holy, and a fervent prayer with tears under the invocation of the holy Trinity (O miracle! O the most powerful force of virtue!) stopped the danger in a moment, the holy Trinity being invoked, it stands still in a precipitous place. and rendered manifest the power of the one stopping it. For the rock, as if turning aside from the workmen, was driven back; and there, its rush checked, it stood; to this very day witnessing to the miracle-working power in the holy Man: since even now it offers a horrible spectacle to those beholding it, when in a slippery and precipitous place it seems not to lie, but as it were to hang suspended over those passing beneath, like the fabled and Tantalean rock.

[16] But how great praise the works of his hands, as it were accessory, brought to the Saint? The care of cultivating a vineyard had been committed to certain Monks, He sows a few grains and gathers them increased immensely. who bestowed strenuous effort on it: to whom he, approaching as Superior and companion, secretly committed a few grains of legumes to the earth, and gently covered them with soil heaped up by his feet. Now that which had thus been sown did not fill the tenth part of a medimnus: but that which was rendered in its time (good God, who can declare the power of thy Just ones!) was reckoned at altogether thirty medimni. Prodigies of this kind of the man one could at leisure enumerate more, and those most true; relating them not as gathered from hearsay, but bringing forward those very men who took in each by their own eyes, for the greatest confirmation of his words: since indeed the fame of his deeds penetrated even to the Emperors themselves, virtue rendering its worker celebrated, which raised him, as is its wont, to great glory. For it made the Saint so venerable to them, that both as to other things they thought something above man should be attributed to him; and indeed they bestowed their royal solicitude on his divine work (I mean this new and venerable monastery), which both supplied the necessaries for making the expenses, and brought aid for bearing whatever troubles; troubles, I mean, coming from outside; by which formerly and especially now all things are disturbed, and on account of which human life is violently shaken. And thus the glory of the holy man's right deeds grew to the highest greatness and admiration, and his life became renowned through nearly the whole world of the lands.

[17] Though healthy, he predicts that death is at hand for him, But his death (for why do we extend the discourse further?) how wonderful it too was, and how consonant with such a life! with the divine gifts working here too in his soul, full of grace. Not yet did any illness assail his body, not yet did any trace of languor appear; when the holy man foretold that death was at hand for him within a few days: and he prayed moreover that a part of those little goods of his, which were in the monastery, be given to him; that, he said, I may have provision for the journey by which I may migrate thither. But when those Monks, rich in their poverty, had at once eagerly brought all things into the midst (for so they had long been trained by their master in obedience), he had half of them at once distributed among the neighbors: and they were, he distributes certain little goods among the poor, as was becoming, the cheapest and of no value at all coverings and little vessels, and those destined for receiving and serving guests. To this he wished the poor to be made partakers, out of mercy, of all the things which were kept stored up for sustaining life, before he died.

[18] Three days from then had elapsed, when rising earlier than usual, he went around the little dwellings of the Brothers; and dealing with each apart, and falling at their feet, he falls at the feet of the Brothers asking pardon of his faults. as the very pattern of the humility that truly exalts its own, he asked of them prayers and pardon of his faults. Meanwhile, the Brothers, surrounding their Father with lowly reverence and devotion; and embracing him, weeping, bowing themselves down to the ground, fulfilling what was their office, midday had passed. Then, since he loved his own as much as anyone, he ordered each to go off and take food; saying further that no service was to be bestowed on him by them; inasmuch as he, no longer solicitous about the affairs of the community, as he used to be, attended only to his private necessity; and did not wish his own to be vexed about him. And some indeed strove much against it, but others did greater violence to him; He prays, and bidding his own sing psalms until they yielded somewhat to him as he took much pains: but soon they returned at a run to him; and finding him praying more intently, with reverence they stood by, until, the prayer finished, he exhorted the Brothers to sing psalms; and reclining himself, in quiet so to say and

with his body bowed toward the ground and stretching out his feet, in peace, as it is written, he rested and slept a sleep rather than fell into death: namely a sleep, he dies peacefully: such as befits the just: and so was added to his Fathers this our holy Father, a son of the kingdom of heaven, to which he so cheerfully undertook the journey, hastening to the reward of the heavenly calling, and passing in an extraordinary manner to the heavenly rest out of these miseries; so that his death is worthy of no less admiration than his life. Ps. 4:9

[19] Such therefore was Dorotheus' manner of living on earth, by whose intercession the Author hopes such his works so many and so divine, so abundant the gifts bestowed by God: such likewise the man's passage, altogether most illustrious and becoming, and as it were a certain golden coping, fittingly set, as is right, upon such a conversation of his: by whose intercessions before God, whom he himself greatly pleased, we too long to be pleasing, as far namely as our state and strength will allow; since his goodness knows, out of his humanity, to rejoice even in the least, and to stretch out a helping hand to those who desire to attain virtue. And the Saint is able to supply what is lacking: since the same benignity, which here held the first place among his virtues, now there too, without doubt, perseveres, with no small increase of itself; especially since he is now nearer to that fountain of all good things, that he and all the Brothers will be much helped. from which, drawing goodness amply and copiously, he himself long ago both served and did good to many, and attained such great sanctity; but now he will do good more liberally, and will exert his beneficence toward us all, who are still surviving in this life and dwell in this wrestling-ground of training: until he, who has rewarded our Father, calls us too to the heavenly rest, or rather, let me say, to the freedom from all trouble; to whom befit all glory, honor and adoration, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.