Sampson the Xenodoch (receiver of Strangers)

CONCERNING S. SAMPSON THE XENODOCH (RECEIVER OF STRANGERS)

AT CONSTANTINOPLE.

THE YEAR 530 OR 531.

PRELIMINARY COMMENTARY.

BY THE R. FATHER FRANCISCUS VERHOVIUS OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS.

Sampson, Priest, receiver of the poor, at Constantinople (S.)

BY THE AUTHOR F. V.

§. I. The author of the Life of S. Sampson is Symeon Metaphrastes.

Leo Allatius, in his Diatribe on the Writings of the Symeons, where he treats more fully of Symeon Metaphrastes, plainly denies to him various Lives of the Saints, which pass everywhere under his name, both because they bear other Authors, and because they depart much from the method and style and age of Metaphrastes; but designates certain others as genuine offspring of his, from which a judgment can be made concerning the rest: yet concerning the Life of Sampson the Xenodoch he pronounced nothing, perhaps because he was not permitted to see the Greek text: for it is difficult

to pass judgment on the genuine offspring of an author, unless you hear him speaking in his own idiom. We shall give below that Life written in Greek, which we obtained from a Manuscript of the Medici Library of the King of France. But that it may appear that it was composed by Symeon Metaphrastes, The method and style it is useful here to set forth in few words what was his formula and manner of writing, from Psellus his encomiast, and one near to the same times, as it is in Leo Allatius in the aforesaid Diatribe.

[2] "The prefaces of his discourses, immediately laying hold of the subject, and proceeding a little, reveal the aim of the composition; and, having summed up in a head the whole argument in some of the discourses, he straightway divides it into parts, and adapts himself to the persons and the occasions. And the color of the discourse is indeed the same in all, and the quality of the diction one; but the variation of character is varied, and, as one might say, artful, not changing the matters for the sake of art; but interpreting what was fitting to each thing and person occurring. But gazing as upon archetypal exemplars to the more ancient things, he does not depart from them, lest he should seem to do something else, and contrary to the example, of Symeon Metaphrastes, and he reshapes the whole idea, not altering the material, but correcting what was erroneous in the forms, neither innovating the meanings, but transposing the figure of the diction, and his discourse, falling upon irregularities of narratives and changes of subjects, is not confounded nor disturbed." Which Allatius thus renders.

[3] "The beginning of his Orations immediately touches the subject, and proceeding a little, shows the scope of his writing; from Psellus its praiser, and in some orations, when he recapitulates the whole argument into a summary, he straightway divides it into parts. He accommodates himself, moreover, to persons and times: and there is indeed the same color of oration to all and one quality of diction; but the variation of characters is varied, and, as one might say, artificial, not changing things through art; but interpreting what was fitting to each thing and person occurring. But gazing as upon archetypal exemplars to more ancient things, he neither recedes from them, lest he should seem to do something else, and to the example also he transmutes the whole form of speaking, not making the material diverse; but correcting what had been amiss in the kind of speaking; neither innovating the sentences, but converting the figure of the diction, and his oration falling upon a diversity of narrations and a variety of arguments is not confounded nor disturbed." etc.

[4] He who has compared these things with the Proem of the Author will recognize Metaphrastes in him: they agree with the author of the Life; for in the very beginning of his writing he signifies his scope and intent; then he sets forth what documents he had for weaving the History of Sampson; which, although they were composed unlearnedly and barbarously, he nevertheless professes that he will follow; though he adorns them metaphrastically with a better style. Then if you consider the whole form of this writing, the style, and the frequent use of adages, here and there learnedly interspersed, and compare all these with his genuine and true offspring, concerning which there is agreement in Allatius in the aforesaid Diatribe, you will everywhere find Metaphrastes. Besides, the Author of this Life makes us certain in the Proem as also his purpose, that he diligently wrote of many other Saints—the labors and contests of Martyrs indeed, but the lives and deeds of Confessors—and that at Constantinople, where the tomb of S. Sampson was bright with heavenly prodigies; whence also he narrates those miracles which either he himself beheld with his own eyes, or himself heard from eyewitnesses: which to what author of that time shall they be ascribed, if not to Metaphrastes?

[5] That this man was not a trivial schoolmaster, as some have dreamed, but excelled in the highest dignity in the Commonwealth, inasmuch as he is called by the name of Magister and Logothete; which is the office of those who examine and adjudicate the fiscal or public accounts, and so direct the expenditures or revenues, his dignity, that they sustain a public rather than a private function. That Metaphrastes was of this dignity, I say, the Reader will find evidently demonstrated in our Bollandus in the general Preface to the Lives of the Saints, chapter 1, §3, and more fully in Allatius in the aforesaid Diatribe. But that our author was of conspicuous dignity in the Commonwealth, can be conjectured from this, that in the Life at number 12 he asserts that he was a friend, and very familiar, of a man placed in the highest dignity, namely Leo, "whom the order of the Patricians and Præpositi held, and who passed through the office of the Drungarius of the fleets, and passed also through the rule of the Logothete of the Course"; who was reckoned in the order of the Patricians and Præpositi, and who held the prefecture of the maritime affairs and publicly discharged the magistracy of the Logothete of the Course, which are among the supreme offices of the Constantinopolitan Commonwealth.

[6] But since a certain other Leo, who was under the ministry of Leo the Patrician, and who was Protospatharius (that is, Chief of those who were deputed to the guard of the body), had fallen from the grace and favor of his Lord, his authority, for what cause I know not, and no one dared to intercede for the wretched man, because access to the Patrician lay difficult, and he was harsh in the encounter of speech, especially among servants; only the author of this Life, by his authority and favor by which he prevailed with Leo the Patrician, sustained the interpellation of his obstinate mind to obtain pardon for the wretched man, as he himself relates in the place aforecited. Whence it is permitted to infer that this man also was of eminent dignity and authority, and worthy to be admitted into the friendship and familiarity of so great a Man. Therefore the style and writing-formula of Symeon Metaphrastes agree with our Author, the institute of life agrees, the dignity agrees: now it remains to perceive whether it can agree with his age.

[7] That Metaphrastes flourished in the last years of the empire of Leo the Philosopher, who died in the year 911, is established from his own testimony in the Life of S. Theoctiste, and his age; where he says: "Being once in Paros. I was, for indeed I sailed to Crete, sent thither by the blessed Leo. Leo, I say, that truly fortunate Emperor, who seems to have carried the very felicity of the Romans with him into the tomb; and I was sent serving together with the very great Himerius, that is, the most skilled in generalship, and ruler of the Course, and of the whole fleet … I was sent therefore partly serving together with him, and being advanced to the experience of generalship, like a colt leaping beside its mother toward the noblest of stratagems. For such was the aim of my blessed Emperor: but partly to perform an embassy to the Arabs holding Crete." Which sound thus in Latin in Allatius. who in the time of Leo the Philosopher "When I was once in the island of Paros: I was there, for I sailed to Crete, sent thither by Leo of blessed memory; Leo, I say, that truly fortunate Emperor, who seems to have carried with him into the sepulchre the very felicity of the Romans. But I was sent serving together with that most distinguished Himerius, inasmuch as most skilled in leading armies, Prefect of the Course, who also commanded the whole fleet … I was sent therefore partly serving together with him, and to be advanced to some document of the Imperial art, like a little colt leaping toward the illustrious stratagems of its mother: for this especially the Augustus looked to: partly, that I might perform an embassy to the Arabs holding Crete."

[8] From these things our Bollandus infers, in the aforesaid preface, that Metaphrastes was at that time not so far advanced in age, being 22 years old, he could have been a Legate inasmuch as he who was ordered to put down the apprenticeship of Imperial virtue under a veteran Leader, and was added to him "like a colt to its mother," and so attributes to him the age of only 20 or 22 years. But Allatius, referring this similitude not to age, but to docility and discipline, from the last words "but partly to perform an embassy to the Arabs holding Crete," concludes that on that expedition Metaphrastes was of more advanced age, such as was capable of sustaining the authority and that prudence which is required in a Legate: wherefore he attributes to him 40, or at least 35, years. He indeed learnedly heaps up many things, among others, and those most weighty, whence he may render his opinion probable.

[9] Yet all the things, whatsoever he brings, by no means settle the matter, and prove only this, that this commonly happens according to the ordinary course of human affairs, but not that it was absolutely never thus done. For adolescence is sometimes capable of the greatest things, both in war and in the commonwealth, especially if prudence and the exterior appearance of the body, as we have sometimes seen done, supply the defect of age. To pass over others, Scipio Africanus, as Roman history has it, at the age of 24, was sent as Commander into Spain, which in the space of four months he snatched from the Carthaginians. Pompey the Great, by the testimony of Cicero in the Oration for the Manilian Law, was himself in his early adolescence Commander of a very great army: and yet how great prudence and experience of affairs is required in moderating and directing an army? It is pleasant here to annex what Beyerlinck relates in the Theater of human Life, under the word "Legate." "There came," he says, "in a former age to the Emperor of the East beardless Legates, whom when he despised, because younger men had been sent, they freely and boldly said: 'If aptitude and dignity are to be estimated from the down of the chin, goats would have the better parts.'"

[10] What therefore happened in a few, could happen in Metaphrastes, on account of the maturity of his genius, especially since Michael Psellus his encomiast extols his genius in his earliest age, and his innate prudence as it were, in these words: "And his incomparable and unrivaled power over all, was indeed straightway from his first birth, so to speak, and from his already blooming hair, like the cubs of lions, straightway showing forth the brow, and the shagginess of the hairs on the neck. For the flowers of intelligence blossomed in him, and his understanding had a certain deep root, and his mind flashed forth something marvelous. These things indeed sufficed to others for perfection; but in him were recognized as it were certain previously drawn figures, which presignified his perfect nature." Which from the interpretation of Allatius sound thus: "And he showed the incomparable powers (of genius) straightway and from his first, that I may say it once, origin, even with blooming hair; not otherwise than as the cubs of lions show forth at once the brow and the dense mane of the neck. For the flowers of intelligence pullulated; and he had a certain deep root of prudence, and his mind glittered with a certain admirable splendor. These things indeed would have sufficed to others for perfection; but in him were recognized as it were certain previously described figures, which presignified his perfect disposition." What wonder therefore, if Metaphrastes at that time performed some embassy, advanced more by prudence than by age? or added to other legates for honor's sake, perhaps also added to other older Legates for honor's sake, that just as under Himerius the veteran Leader he might lay the rudiment of military affairs,

so under these he might lay the rudiment of political affairs among foreign nations.

[11] That therefore which could be done, let us for the moment suppose to have been done, and in the last year of Leo the Philosopher, and that he reached down to the times of the Emperor Nicephorus Phocas, of the common era 911, let us attribute to Symeon Metaphrastes the age of 30 or 32 years. He could then have reached down to the times of Nicephorus Phocas (who in the 63rd year of the same century obtained the empire of the East), and, being more than eighty years old, even have composed some things by lamplight. This being supposed, let us see whether this Chronology can agree with our author, who at number 19, narrating the miracle which happened to Bardas the Protospatharius, says: "But this man had a great familiarity with Romanus the Emperor, both kindly and good, whom all know to have been the son of Constantine, who (to say all in a word) was a most royal man." But to him Bardas there had been a great familiarity with Romanus the Emperor, kind and clement, whom all know to have been the son of Constantine, which can agree with the author of the Life, who (to say all once) was an excellent Emperor; by which words he seems to speak of Romanus the son of Constantine Porphyrogenitus as of one already dead, unless perhaps it can be rendered: "But to him there was a great familiarity with Romanus the Emperor, whom all know to be the son of Constantine"; and thus it could be referred to the times of the Emperor Romanus, who held the Empire from the year 960 to 963, otherwise to be transferred to the times of his successor Nicephorus Phocas, and so there is nothing here which fights with the age of Metaphrastes.

[12] But it terrified me that at number 15 it is read, as it is translated in Surius, namely: "He asks of the good John (for he then held the empire) that the care of this house be committed to him": in which for John where John Zimisces is indicated, who began to reign in the year 969, to whose times Metaphrastes can scarcely attain, unless we confess him to have written this Life when more than ninety years old. Constantine is to be written. For which reason I think that for John ought to be written Constantine: and I shall be the more easily led to believe this, because in our Greek copy the name John is not had written in full, but only with the two initial letters Ιω. In the authentic original therefore the name Constantine had been written by abbreviation, expressed only with the first two or three letters Κων: whence, these being worn away by the voracity of time—in the first letter Κ, the two transverse little lines and the last letter ν perhaps—Ιω remained; and from this they made John. Since therefore those things can be so conveniently explained, and all the rest agree with Metaphrastes, nothing prevents us from ascribing to him the Life of S. Sampson, which he composed in his decrepit old age, after he had brought to light the deeds of very many Martyrs and Confessors, as he himself confesses.

[13] I find it noted in our travel Index that the Life of Sampson, which begins, "But indeed it is a work of grace and of healing, that toward the great Sampson," etc., is preserved in manuscript in the Libraries, the Vatican and Vallicellian at Rome; also in the Florentine and Turin. To us it was long ago extracted from a Manuscript codex, as I have already said, the Medicean of the Most Christian King, under this title, "Life and conduct of our holy Father Sampson the receiver of strangers." The Latin was printed by Lipomannus in tome 6, and from him by Surius in tome 2; according to the interpretation of Gentianus Hervetus: which same I also here retain; in a few things, however, altered, having been collated with the Greek text.

§. II. The time of death.

[14] As to the age of Sampson, Metaphrastes, the Menology of Basil Porphyrogenitus, Metaphrastes and the Menæa under the Emperor Justinian, the printed Menæa, the unedited Origines of Constantinople in Part 2, say that he flourished under the Emperor Justinian, inasmuch as he was freed by the Saint himself, while alive, from an incurable disease; and that, in order to return thanks for so great a benefit, he built for him a magnificent xenodochium, which was thereafter called the Hospital of S. Sampson. But Cardinal Baronius, in the Notes on the Roman Martyrology on this day, accuses all this of error, from the fact that Procopius, who lived in those times and had these things before his eyes, in book 1 on the edifices of the Emperor Justinian chapter 2, testifies that the Hospital under the name of Sampson, erected by the same Sampson, had once been burned by fire; and when scarcely some traces remained, that very hospital was more munificently restored by the same Emperor Justinian, and enriched with an annual revenue of immense money. But since Metaphrastes at number 11 testifies that the said fire happened after the death of Sampson, Baronius will have it that he died under Anastasius. when also the noble temple of Sophia was burned; and likewise Marcellinus in his Chronicle testifies that this happened in the times of the Emperor Anastasius; the aforesaid Cardinal concludes that Sampson died long before the Empire of Justinian: and from the same Procopius he much more refutes Cedrenus, when he says that the House of Sampson was burned in the penultimate year of Justinian.

[15] These difficulties Nicolaus Alemannus dissolves in the Notes on chapter 4 of the Secret History of Procopius. It is pleasant here to annex his words. "Cardinal Baronius believes Sampson far more ancient than Justinian in the Notes on the Martyrology, and thinks that the credit of that history wavers which has it that the Hospital of Sampson was erected by Justinian at his request; since Procopius says it was restored, which the same Sampson had previously built. But so very small was that first edifice of Sampson, but so illustrious and so magnificent the one made by Justinian, that Metaphrastes can be seen to have detracted nothing from the truth. His opinion is less approved, What Baronius adds concerning the conflagration of that Hospital, which he judges to have happened at the time when, under Anastasius, the temple of holy Sophia was burned; it is clear in the histories that that temple was more than once subject to fires; but that that Hospital was burned in the 5th year of Justinian the same Procopius relates in book 1 on the edifices and book 1 of the Persian war chapter 24, and Theophanes at the 5th year of Justinian. Perhaps of greater moment in this matter is what Procopius says of the age of Sampson: 'A certain pious man who in former years flourished, Sampson by name.' But this also is nothing: for Procopius wrote that book on the edifices, where he has this, at the very end of Justinian's Empire, namely thirty-six and more years after the death of Sampson. Yet his memory was so vigorous, that Justinian, in Novella 59 and 131, where he speaks of Sampson, says: 'Sampson of holy memory': which (that I may note in passing), since in the ancient manuscripts it was marked with the single letters S. M., was badly taken in the Latin editions of Novella 131 as 'Sampson of holy Mary.' But what I plainly judge ought to be corrected in Metaphrastes, is the reckoning of the time of the life of Sampson and of the years of the Empire of Justinian: for that Sampson survived to the time of the Bishop Menas, Metaphrastes does not narrate well, since it is plainly established from Novella 59 that he died before the Consulship of Belisarius. Further, the publication of that same Novella, and the election of Menas, fall almost in the same time; namely about the 11th year of Justinian; but that Sampson died before the 5th year of his reign no one would doubt. To this reckoning are to be recalled the things which are narrated by Metaphrastes concerning the fire of the Hospital."

[16] Thus learnedly Alemannus: but indeed, contrary to what he here thinks, the Author of the Alexandrian Chronicle says that the Hospital of Sampson was at that time (namely in the fifth year of Justinian) most ample; when he says, "the great xenon of Sampson was burned, and the difficulty is explained. and there perished together the sick who were lying in it." "The great xenodochium of Sampson was consumed by fire, and together perished those who were sick in it." But repaired and rebuilt by Justinian, it did not long after stand; since indeed in the 37th year of the same Emperor it again burned, as Theophanes writes, and from him Cedrenus: "In the 37th year there happened a great conflagration, and the xenon of Sampson was utterly burned." "In the 37th year (of Justinian) there happened a great fire, and the xenodochium of Sampson was utterly consumed." Although it is established that afterward it was rebuilt.

[17] Wherefore in vain does Baronius refute Cedrenus of error, because he placed this fire in the penultimate year of the Empire of Justinian; S. Sampson dies in the year of Christ 530 or 531, since not one, but a double fire of that xenodochium is established to have been. While therefore all these things can be rightly thus explained, there is no reason why we should recede from Metaphrastes, the Synaxaria, and the Menæa of the Greeks, asserting that Sampson lived under Justinian. Further, since it is established from the things said above that the first fire of that xenodochium happened in the fifth year of Justinian, and this is asserted by Metaphrastes at number 11 to have happened after the death of Sampson; we establish that Sampson migrated to those above in the 3rd or 4th year of the same Emperor (that is, in the year of Christ 530 or 531).

[18] But indeed deservedly does Alemannus accuse Metaphrastes of error (which error is also in the Synaxaria and Menæa of the Greeks) because at number 4 he relates that Sampson was ordained Priest by Menas, Patriarch of Constantinople; yet he was not ordained Priest by Menas Patriarch of Constantinople both on account of the reasons brought above by Alemannus, and besides because that Menas, before he obtained the Patriarchal dignity, under the same Emperor Justinian presided over the xenodochium of Sampson, over which Sampson himself, as long as he lived, presided, as Nicephorus of Constantinople relates in his work on the Patriarchs of Constantinople, calling the same man "Xenodoch of Sampson": and Liberatus the Deacon says of the same in chapter 21: "This Menas was Præpositus of the greater xenodochium, which is called Sampson, an Alexandrian by birth," and so only after the death of Sampson was he elevated to the Patriarchal dignity.

§. III. The cult from the Menologies, Menæa, and other Fasti.

[19] The memory of S. Sampson was always celebrated among the Greeks, inasmuch as his sepulchre straightway from his death was bright with miracles, and began to distil a liquor salutary for all kinds of diseases; The solemnity of Sampson at Constantinople. whence his feast is numbered among the more solemn of the Constantinopolitan Church, for on this feast there was to be a cessation from legal proceedings until the end of the Divine Office, as is established from the novel constitution concerning Holidays issued by the Emperor Emmanuel Comnenus in the year 1166. The Synaxarium of the Emperor Basil Porphyrogenitus, in a Manuscript of Grottaferrata, has this eulogy concerning him: "Sampson our Father among the saints was indeed from old Rome, a kinsman of the great Constantine. Having bestowed all his wealth upon the poor, and being poor for Christ, he came to Constantinople, and continually praying in the temples of the holy Prophets persevered among them. Having taken to a quiet life, and having meditated on the divinely-inspired Scriptures, Eulogy in the Menology of the Emperor Basil. he became manifest by his virtue to the most holy Patriarch Menas, and is ordained by him a priest of the great church. And thereafter he was a saving harbor to the poor and the sick, partaking also of the medical art. And having healed the Emperor Justinian from a most grievous affliction, he was treated most kindly by him. And having built a xenon for the rest of the poor and the sick, and having done many good deeds and miracles, he fell asleep in peace."

but his relic was placed in the church of the holy martyr Mocius.

[20] Our holy Father Sampson drew his origin from ancient Rome, a kinsman of Constantine the Great. But when he had divided all his possessions among the poor, and begging for the sake of Christ, he betook himself to Constantinople, and in the very churches of the holy Prophets he gave himself assiduously to prayer. And while he was leading a private and obscure life, intent upon the meditation of the divine Scriptures, he became known by his virtues to the most holy Patriarch Menas, and by him was ordained Priest of the great Church. For the rest, he was a saving harbor to the poor and the sick, being imbued with knowledge of the medical art. And when he had healed the Emperor Justinian of a difficult illness, he was most greatly beloved by him; and a hospital having been built for the comfort of the poor and the sick, after many good deeds and miracles he fell asleep in peace; but his body was laid in the temple of S. Martyr Mocius.

[21] The Mss. of our College of Dijon and of Clermont, and others now of Louis the Great, have the like. To this, moreover, the following Distich is added:

Once Sampson drew forth water from a jawbone; But now the tomb of Sampson drips with balm.

But in the printed Menaea he has his proper Office and Canon under this acrostic,

In sacred speech, Sampson, I sing thee of faith. Joseph.

But since this Canon has nothing particular except what is contained in the eulogy, we pass it over. To the eulogy these two verses are prefixed:

Sampson of old put the Homorraeans to flight; But the new Sampson now utterly shatters demons.

And there is added also, after the prefixed distich, that hexameter, from which the chief cult of Sampson on this day is known:

The Hospitaller Sampson dies on the twenty-seventh day.

[22] But the eulogy runs thus: This Saint Sampson was a Roman by race; who, having scattered the wealth left to him by his parents, also in the printed Menaea to the needy and the poor, came to the Imperial City; and, taking up his abode in the oratories and venerable houses, and piously enjoying them, having taken up a quiet life, he delighted in the divinely-inspired Scriptures, attending to God alone. Whence, having become known to the most honorable Patriarch Menas, he is ordained Priest by him, becoming one of the Clergy. And he was a saving harbor to the poor and to those needing help; and being himself experienced in the medical science, he also freed the Emperor Justinian, who had fallen into an incurable affliction. On account of this the Emperor, exceedingly admiring the virtue of the man and rendering reverence to him, having raised through him a most great and renowned house, built a hospital, and appointed this Saint keeper of the sacred vessels of the great church. And he himself, having conducted himself well and in a God-loving manner, and having become to many an agent of salvation, and having stirred up many to zeal and to the imitation of his pure life, there indeed found his rest; and his honored relic was laid in the most great temple of holy Mocius, daily gushing forth healing-bearing streams, to the glory and praise of Christ our God.

[23] That Saint (Sampson) was Roman by race. He, having distributed among the poor the riches that had been left to him by his parents, came to the Imperial city, and betaking himself into the oratories and basilicas, piously enjoyed the sanctity of those places; and leading a private and obscure life, he delighted his mind with the reading of the divine Scriptures, intent upon God alone: whence, being known by the most worthy Patriarch Menas, he is ordained Priest by him, made one of the Clergy. And he was a saving harbor to the poor and to those needing help. And since he was skilled in the medical matter, he freed the Emperor Justinian himself, who was laboring under an incurable disease. Thence the Emperor, admiring the man's virtue, and holding him in great honor, raised into a hospital a most great and renowned house built at his suasion. He set the Saint, moreover, over the sacred furnishings of the greater church. At length, after an honorable and pious manner of life, after he had been the author of salvation to very many, and had stirred up many to zeal and to the imitation of his blameless life, he there found his rest, and his precious body was laid in the most great temple of S. Mocius, day by day bringing remedy to diseases with a saving outflow, to the praise and glory of Christ our God.

[24] Of this Saint also the name is found inscribed on this day in the Syriac or Chaldaic Kalendar, Memorial of the Saint in the Syriac Kalendar, printed at Rome in the year 1624, which formerly, in the year 1661, D. Joseph rendered into Latin, and Symon Moyses into Italian, both alumni of the College of the Maronites. Of him, moreover, the Arabic-Egyptian Martyrology makes mention, which Gratia Simonius the Maronite, afterward Archbishop of Tripoli in Syria, translated from the Arabic. and in the Arabic-Egyptian Martyrology, In this Martyrology he has the following Prayer in common with S. John the Almsgiver. Thou didst possess all things, O holy Father Sampson, while in all things thou wast ever assiduous, enriching the poor, and feeding them, and relieving them; pray Christ God, that He free our souls.

LIFE, by the author Metaphrastes, the interpreter Gentian Hervet,

From the Ms. Medicean Codex of the Most Christian King.

Sampson, Priest, receiver of the poor, at Constantinople (S.)

FROM MSS., BY THE AUTHOR F. V.

PROLOGUE.

[1] In part indeed fulfilling the work of grace and of the service due to the great Sampson, and at the same time avoiding the censure of men, we have set ourselves to the present discourse, and have willingly undertaken to compose his Life. And how should it be otherwise? Would not the censure be reasonable and just, if, having diligently composed for many other Saints—of some the Martyrs, of others those who otherwise pleased God—of the former the contests and labors, of the latter the lives and deeds, we should appear to make light of this great Sampson, especially when he lies so very near us, and is, so to speak, a neighbor by reason of his wonder-working tomb? And this, when we have found none of those before us who was of the same mind with us, and who diligently wrote his Life. Nor does it escape me that an Encomium was composed upon the Great One by a God-loving man and high-priest, and one of no small learning. But I speak of a Life composed in due order, treating accurately of his deeds, and making sufficient mention of his wonders. For this neither do we know others to have done up to the present day, nor are we ourselves able to do it, being very far removed in time; nor are we able well to set forth his life with accuracy, except only to go through these things more carefully, and to set before God-loving men a few of his miracles to the glory of God; for those things which we came upon, having received from the Clergy a small composition of his Life—this seemed to have been composed not only carelessly, but it also bears witness that the one who composed it was deficient in learning; nay rather, are these things of which the narration has been made? Yet they are not perfect nor accurate, but fall far short of accuracy; and besides, that composition with which we have again become acquainted, we found to be similar, and made (as they say) of the same clay, being inscribed indeed as an Encomium of the divine Sampson, and having a certain partial narration of the things lived by him, but very sparingly and meagerly giving the lovers of the beautiful a taste of his wonders. But what disturbs us most of all is that we ourselves, so far as concerns the narration of the things done (for there is nothing available from elsewhere), must follow them. For this reason we ask pardon from those who read the things labored over by us, that they may not condemn us of negligence, nor reject this unexamined narration; for the work before us is not ours, as we have said, but rather of those whom we have followed. Therefore here too that saying of Herodotus may fittingly be spoken, that the shoe is rather Histiaeus's, even if Aristagoras put it on. So then it stands thus.

[1] In part indeed rendering gratitude and due cult to the great Sampson, The reason why this Life is written, but in part avoiding the just reprehension of men, we have come to this discourse, and have willingly undertaken the burden of writing his Life. For how should we not be reprehended with the best right, if we, who have diligently written of many other Saints, both Martyrs and others pleasing to God—of the former indeed the labors and contests, of the latter the life and deeds—should seem to despise this great Sampson, especially since he is so near to us, and almost a neighbor to the sepulcher where he works wonders? Add to this that we have found none of those who preceded us who was of the same mind as we, and who exactly committed his Life to writing. It does not indeed escape me that an Encomium of the great Sampson was composed by a pious man and Pontiff, and one not a little learned. But I speak of a Life distinctly composed, which both accurately treats the things gloriously done by him, and makes sufficient mention of his miracles. For we know none others to have furnished this up to the present day; nor can we furnish it, who are far removed from those times; nor can we follow out his life perfectly, but only relate it a little more diligently, and set forth to pious men a few of his miracles to the glory of God. For that little work of his Life, written by others before, into which, received from the Clergy, we lighted upon, seemed to us not only carelessly composed, but it also testifies that he who composed it had no learning; nay rather, not even those very things which it narrates are delivered perfectly enough and completely, but are far from the highest perfection. Moreover, that work also, which we have long used, we found to be similar, and made (as they say) of the same crockery; and that it is inscribed indeed as an Encomium of the divine Sampson, and has a certain singular narration of the things which were done by him in life: but very sparingly and slenderly affording to good men a taste of his miracles. But what most of all disturbs us is that we must follow their narration (for we have nothing from elsewhere). For this cause we ask that pardon be given us by those who shall read the things elaborated by us, that they may not condemn us of negligence, nor reject this narration, which is least examined. For this work is not ours, as we said before, but rather of those whom we have followed. Therefore that saying of Herodotus may here be conveniently spoken, that the shoe is rather Histiaeus's, even though Aristagoras put it on. And so it stands.

CHAPTER I.

Sampson's race, country, study, benignity toward the poor and the sick; his benefit toward the Emperor; his death.

[2] This great Sampson, renowned throughout the whole world, drew his race indeed from far-famed and illustrious Rome, and came forth not from any obscure persons, nor from common ones, but from those exceedingly noble and renowned; who had abundance of wealth in deep measure, and who were resplendent by race with imperial

blood, being distinguished according to their lineage.

But although the All-great One was thus disposed as to outward things, neither did he neglect his own household concerns. For he was greatly mindful of virtue, and applied himself with zeal to the reading of the divine Scripture, and clung to it earnestly as to some most delightful nourishment, and within a short time arrived at all knowledge of it. Nor did the most humane one neglect medicine, the humane art; but, having devoted himself laboriously to it also, although he made but little use of the craft for gain, in the case of others he yielded place to the divine working of grace, healing diseases and incurable afflictions, and practicing the art as a sort of veil for grace, through excess of humility.

[3] But when his parents too departed from this life, he no longer delayed nor put it off, but, as having seized a fitting opportunity, since none remained who would hinder, he did the things according to his purpose, and exchanged corruptible and temporary wealth for eternal wealth, according to the divine voice of the Master, which bids one sell what he possesses and give alms, and thence acquire purses that do not grow old. And he gave forth his wealth, not little by little, nor sparingly, nor flowing drop by drop, but very lavishly and freely, with both hands, as the saying is, pouring it out into the bellies of the poor or the hungry; and this not once, nor twice, but throughout his whole life: for almsgiving was his lifelong companion and fellow-nursling unto the end. The herds of his slaves he no longer thought fit to keep with himself, nor to use authority over his fellow-servants arrogantly; but he rather nobly deemed them worthy of freedom, providing them sufficiently with the means for living. For what need had he of the servitude of men, who had consecrated himself as a true and genuine servant to the Lord? Thus, then, being so disposed concerning his possessions, and having laid aside temporal things as it were certain bonds, he was simply light and well-girded, content with one tunic and one servant. Then, having left Rome, this noble man comes to this new Rome, I mean the city of the divine Constantine; but by what cause he was moved to this I cannot say; yet not without God, and not unprofitably, did he sojourn in this splendid and royal city of cities, in which also his sacred body lies, an inviolable treasure, a wealth that is not spent, a remedy against all diseases.

[4] So then the in all things great Sampson, having reached this great city, dwelt in some small and poor house, but was greatly devoted to the care of his neighbor. For having made this house a foundation of humanity and a free dispensary, he received with hospitality those oppressed by disease, and welcomed them in brotherly fashion, and not only deemed them worthy of all care, as the laws of the art require, but also shared his food and his bedding with them, following the commandments of Christ; and showing partly the things of the art, but partly, and more, the things of grace. For where is it a work of art to drive off demons, and to work miraculously the healing of incurable afflictions—which were as easy for him to do as it was to will it, and simply so? To another belongs one thing, to another another; but to Sampson hospitality and humanity and pity toward the needy were so peculiarly his own, that they almost passed into the necessity of nature, as it belongs to the sun to give light, and to fire to burn. Hence also he becomes known to the High Priest of Christ at that time (for virtue is a thing shining equal to light, whence also it very quickly proclaims those who pursue it). This was Menas, not obscure in virtue; and he is ordained Priest by him, being already thirty years old, and a little more. Then he becomes known also to him who held the empire; and that for such a cause as this.

[5] Justinian was the one who reigned, of whom both the time of his rule was long, and his life illustrious. Upon him there falls a very grievous disease, his private parts being grievously affected, and his bladder being injured with a painful ulcer. He therefore both suffered and was sore distressed, and was not able to bear the pains; and a swarm of physicians was poured around him, and were present about him, as is the custom, eagerly disputing; who indeed were very ready to make promises and to fill him with good hopes, inasmuch as they thereby stir up the hand of the patient, and prepare it to be more eager toward bestowals; but to bring the promised thing into deed, and to free the oppressed one from that which grieves him, they were not only unable to do in a short time, but neither often by delay and procrastination, nor by taking long time to their aid; but they were rather ready to blame the sufferers for the slowness, or even to blame the misfortunes that turn out for the worse, as though the patients either did not yield to the prescriptions, or were unguarded concerning their food and drink; but to themselves, and to the medicines which they use for treatment, the excellent men attach no blame whatever. What then did the Emperor? When he saw them saying many things and uttering great words, but accomplishing nothing toward a cure—nay rather, harming, and showing themselves all to be a remedy-less lot—he himself was indeed struck with pains, but was not able to bear them; and condemning equally the uselessness of all the physicians, he said he must lament; but he flees rather to God, and clings to Him very earnestly, and seeks aid from thence. For there are times when even want becomes for us a teacher of what is profitable, and makes us learn whence the unfailing help comes; For my help, he says, is from the Lord.

[6] Having therefore asked fervently, he obtains not slowly; but in a dream there is shown to him a multitude of physicians, standing in a row, clad indeed in a vestment in priestly fashion; and he saw a certain eunuch coming forward, clothed in gold-woven raiment, but in his mantle like to a Praepositus, who seemed also to point out to him each one of the physicians—of what countenance and age and bearing he was; among whom there was one whose appearance was humble, his grey hair seemly, his clothing modest, and the eunuch more carefully made this one known to the Emperor, and caused him to learn what manner of man he was among all, and said that he alone, and none of the others, was able to grant him deliverance from the affliction. When therefore the Emperor was released from sleep, judging the dream to be true (for He who dispensed that he should see these things made him believe them, being about to confirm by deed the things seen), he is filled with joy; and immediately he summons the physicians. And they all came together and presented themselves to his sight; but he went over each one, scrutinizing them to the utmost, and testing them no less than the Lydian stone tests gold—their countenance and figure and age, according to the tokens received through the dream. But when he saw none of those present bearing such a mark, he was held by grief and perplexity, and, being as it were the more thirsty still, he kept failing of what had been promised. Hence there was a great and warm and keen search, and promises of gifts and of the greatest honors, which the one who should reveal the man sought, in accordance with the signs the Emperor had seen, was immediately to receive. So then he was sought very eagerly, and the mark was, not, as the fable knows of the descendant of Pelops, from the shoulder, but from the abundance of virtue, and chiefly from his moderation of feeling and his retiring nature.

[7] But since the finding was still difficult (for he was hidden, not having changed his form, as they fashion Proteus to do, but this came about by a certain more divine dispensation, that the slow disclosure might make him still more longed for), late and with difficulty one of the imperial physicians—known to the Emperor, but familiar with the Great One, and conscious of his excellences, not only of his virtue, but also of his grace and his miracles, whence too it was easy for him to conjecture that he was the one who would heal—this very man at once makes the Great One plain to the Emperor, and becomes for him the agent of such joy as only those laboring under a bodily affliction and longing for deliverance are able to understand. Immediately, then, the wondrous Sampson came into his sight; for there was not even a brief interval, I say, between the hearing and the seeing; so strongly did the desire of seeing him take hold of the Emperor. Having seen him, then, he read well, from the things seen in the night, the things appearing by day—such as the gentleness of his eyes, the cheerfulness of his form, the comeliness of his manners, the roughness of his beard, the downcast look of his eyes, and the tokens granting him moderation of mind. When that man—the one renowned in the empire—had beheld these things, as the wondrous one approached, he could no longer contain himself, but rising up out of immeasurable joy, he embraces the one who appeared lowly, and kisses him very gladly, not only his mouth, but also his head, saying: Surely it is thou, father; thou art he who appeared to me marvelously in the dream, but also promised to heal my affliction. Having spoken thus, he straightway went in with him into the inner parts of the palace, keeping hold of him and of his holy hand; for he did not think he was doing any great thing in honoring that hand, of whose miraculous working he was about to have the benefit.

[8] But when the Emperor had gone within, and had him seated beside him, not yet receiving his fill of his kind affection, he did still more, taking his hands, placing them upon his own eyes, and kissing them with such pleasure as one could tell, and shedding tears upon them, he rejoiced; for the necessity of the oppressing affliction made him appear a man rather than an emperor, and one covered with human miseries rather than one exalted with imperial magnificences. But this great moderation of the Emperor and his reverence cast a heaviness and grief upon the Holy One, and, as though suffering something unjust, and being outdone in modesty, he could not bear to be silent; but, Do not so, O Emperor, do not so, he said in an undertone, quietly and humbly, nor, by wishing immoderately to humble thyself, procure for me a judgment of arrogance. For what have I more than common men, being a wretched one and liable to sins, and in need of much of the kindness and humanity that comes from Christ? Yet this thy abundant and fervent faith becomes for thee an unerring messenger of the help that comes from Christ, the King indeed of those who reign and able to do all things. Having spoken thus, he laid his hand upon the suffering part; and the hand wrought its own works; but he, wishing to hide, by the abundance of his humility, the abundance of grace, attempted to ascribe the healing to certain applications of the art, which he laid upon the aching part. But the truth that was hidden conquered the treatment thus feigned, and the one who had been recognized as a wonder-worker in many other things was recognized, even in this, as working wonders. Not many days passed, and the Emperor was wholly freed from the affliction and enjoyed pure health, full

of gladness and of wonder—of gladness because of the restoration, of wonder because of the familiarity with God of the one who had healed him.

[9] Then, as though to requite the great benefit of the cure with timely gifts, he gave gold magnanimously, and other such things as are wont to invite desire—I mean of him who lives according to the flesh; but for that man, to live thus frugally and in a neglected manner was a freely-chosen good, more blessed than all wealth, and more worthy of dignity than all glory. Accordingly he repelled even the Emperor's munificence and great-giving with timely and forcible apologies: Those things thou givest me, O Emperor, he said, from which I myself gladly withdrew for the sake of Christ, possessing as I did much in estates and very much in money. How then shall I receive these things, without which I plainly found it most profitable to live, and from which to stand apart prudently has been shown to be purely to be made a familiar of God? But if thou wishest, out of much kindness and humanity, that something gracious be done for us, rather let it be done for God, and thus indeed the thing done will also pass over to us. And it shall be this: if, near to my little dwelling, in which I myself dwell, and into which I bring in certain of those laid low by disease, granting care so far as my ability allows, thou thyself wilt raise up a house suitable for those laboring under disease. For this will both set up for thee a renowned name and procure for thee an irremovable reward. The Emperor heard, and gladly received the thing asked as a gift rather than a request. And at once (for at that time he was also constructing the divine temple under the name of the Wisdom of God) he ordered this too to be built together with it, with eagerness of soul, and with a multitude of hands of builders, and with abundance of every outlay, he himself providing magnificently, while the building was carried to completion according to what pleased the Great One. And when it had been built very tastefully and magnificently, and was deemed worthy of his name, immediately it was entrusted to him, and he himself was the divine Sampson who was entrusted with the oversight of the house.

[10] The Emperor adds yet another thing, worthy of imperial great-giving: to consecrate to this holy house a portion not small, nor of small intent, divided indeed out of the booty which the wondrous Belisarius had brought to him from the land of the Assyrians—a portion truly splendid and munificent. Then also with gifts of stipends he strengthens the house, sufficient both for its other expenses and for the provisions of the physicians, and of those entrusted with its other services. So for many years, having thus endured in the care of the sick, and providing for all in fatherly wise and very carefully, since he had now slipped into deep old age, and his body, being powerless, was giving birth to death—a little sickness, and such as is wont to be shown as preludes and an occasion of death. But he dies not despairing, nor weighed down, nor distressed at the removal, after the manner of souls that love the body and love the world, but gently and cheerfully, inasmuch as he accurately knew by Whom he was called, and from what whirling state to what condition he was passing, and what enjoyments awaited his blessed soul; for from the labors he knew the recompenses, and from the seeds also the fruits. His worthy-of-God and pure soul therefore migrates to the heavenly dwellings; but his sacred and holy body is most reverently laid in the most great temple of Mocius the martyr; inasmuch indeed as the Great One was reported to draw kinship thence, and to have affinity, not according to the body only, but also more according to the soul, that is to say, and the manners. But with how many wonders he who was in all things most wondrous was glorified—not simply during his life here, but far more after his death—neither is the tongue able to tell, nor the hearing to receive. For how should it? since not even to this present day have the streams of his wonders stood still; nay rather, neither will they stand still, so long as he is the same, and uses his own bowels of compassion on behalf of men, interceding with God. A few things, therefore, if it seem good, to the glory of God and the pleasure and profit of the hearers, must be taken up in the discourse, of those things which came to pass after his removal from hence.

[2] Sampson's country, race and parents. This great Sampson, therefore, whose fame pervaded the whole world, drew his race indeed from that famous and renowned Rome. He was born, moreover, not of ignoble nor of common parents, but of very honorable and illustrious ones: whose wealth indeed was great, but whose lineage was drawn from the blood of an Emperor. a But although this very great man's outward affairs were thus, neither did he ever neglect his inward ones. For he both took great care of virtue, and was intent on the reading of the divine Scripture, and clung to it diligently as to a most pleasant food, and in a short time came to all knowledge of it. But since this most humane man had not neglected medicine, which art greatly conduces to human health, He studies medicine: but had even diligently given himself to it, although he used the art very little for gain, yet in the case of the poor he yielded to the ministry of divine grace, curing incurable diseases, and using the art as it were as a veil of grace, on account of his supreme humility.

[3] But after his parents had departed from life, he no longer delayed, nor put off; but, using a fit occasion, since none would be there to hinder, liberal toward the poor. he did the things which seemed good to himself, and exchanged brief and perishable riches for eternal ones, obeying the Lord's voice, bidding one sell what he has, and give alms, and hence prepare purses which by no means grow old. Matth. 19 & 6. But he gave his wealth not sparingly, nor distilling it thinly or drop by drop, but very profusely and largely, with both hands, as it is said, pouring it into the bellies of the poor, or of the hungry; and that not once, or twice, but throughout his whole life: for almsgiving was born with him and nourished with him unto death. The herds of his slaves, moreover, he was unwilling should any longer remain with him, nor to use authority arrogantly over his slaves: but rather he ingenuously deemed them worthy of liberty, abundantly providing them with what should suffice for their living. For what need had he of the servitude of men, who had consecrated himself a true and germane servant to the Lord? Thus, then, affected toward his possessions, and stripped of temporal things as of bonds, he was truly light and girded, and content with one tunic and one servant. Then, Rome being left behind, this excellent man came to this new Rome, the city, I say, of the divine Constantine. He comes to CPole. And what cause moved him I can by no means say. But not without God's will, nor altogether uselessly, did he dwell in this royal city, in which also his sacred body is laid, a sacrosanct treasure, riches which by no means are consumed, a remedy for all diseases.

[4] This great Sampson, therefore, great in every part, when he had come to this city, He receives the sick into hospitality. dwelt in a certain small and humble house, assiduous in bearing the care of his neighbor. For having made this house an argument of benignity, and a gratuitous workshop, he received with hospitality those who were oppressed with disease, and treated them fraternally: nor did he only use toward them all care and diligence, as the laws of the art require, but he also imparted to them food and bed, according to the precepts of Christ, imparting partly the benefits of his art, partly indeed the benefits of divine grace. For what? Is it a work of art to expel demons, and to effect a marvelous cure of diseases? Which things indeed for him to do was no less easy than to will. And to another belongs something else, but to Sampson hospitality and benignity, and mercy toward the needy, was so proper, that it became to him almost natural, just as it belongs to the sun to give light, but to fire to burn. Hence also he became known to him who then was the Pontiff of Christ: for the splendor and grace of goodness quickly makes known those who exercise it. And this was Menas, b not obscure in virtue. By him he is ordained Priest, being now thirty years old, and a little more. Then he became known also to him He is initiated into the priesthood who administered the Empire. And that came about from this.

[5] Justinian indeed was he who ruled, of whom both the time of the Empire was long, c and the life illustrious. Upon him a very grievous disease fell, Justinian the Emperor, laboring under a grievous disease, when his private parts were ill affected, and his bladder labored with a grievous ulcer. And he indeed suffered and labored, nor could he bear the pains. And there was poured around him a swarm of physicians, and about him, as is the custom, they were present disputing with great zeal: who indeed are very prompt to promise, and to fill with good hope, as those who both incite the hand of him who labors, and bring it about that he be more alacritous to give: but to bring their promises to effect, and to free him who labors from that which afflicts him, they are not only unable to do in a short time, but neither by long delay and procrastination, nor by using the help of long time: but rather they are ready to accuse those who labor of tardiness, or even of a proclivity toward what is worse, as those who either do not acquiesce in the prescriptions, or in food and drink do not use the caution that is fitting: but themselves, and the medicines which they apply for curing, they by no means reprehend. What then the Emperor? After he saw them indeed say many things, and speak great words, but confer nothing toward a cure; nay rather, to harm, and bring greater pains; he himself was indeed agitated by pains, but could not bear them. And condemning all the physicians equally, as useless, he bade them go to a bad end: but to God he flees for refuge, and to Him with great zeal he clings, and thence seeks help. For sometimes want teaches what is useful to us; and brings it about that we learn whence true help comes. My help, he says, is from the Lord.

[6] When therefore he had vehemently asked, he does not slowly obtain, but to him in sleep is shown a multitude of physicians, who indeed stood by in order, but were clad in an honest vesture, shown by a vision, and one befitting Priests. He saw, moreover, a certain eunuch approaching, clad in a vesture woven of gold: but in his mantle like to a Praepositus, who seemed to point out each one of the physicians, of what countenance, age and habit he was; among whom one, who was humble in appearance, comely in grey hair, honest and composed in dress, he saw more diligently take care that he be known to the Emperor; and bring it about that he might know what manner of man he was in all things, and saw him say: This one alone, and none of the others, can grant thee that thou be freed from death. But after he had been roused from sleep

The Emperor, judging that the dream was true

(for He had brought it to pass that he should believe, who had provided that

he should see, and who was about to confirm by the very deed the things that had been seen)

is indeed filled with joy: and he

forthwith summons the physicians. And they assembled,

and all presented themselves before him. But he

scrutinized each one, searching most diligently,

and examining no less than the Lydian stone

examines gold, both countenance and figure and age,

according to the signs which had been shown through the dreams.

But after he saw no such sign in those

who were present, he was afflicted with grief, and was perplexed

in mind, and was made far more eager, because he had not yet

obtained the promise. Hence a diligent

inquiry was made, and a promise of gifts and of the greatest honors,

which he was to receive who should point out the man

from those tokens which the Emperor had seen.

This man indeed was diligently sought; but the sign

by which he might be recognized was not, like that of the Pelopidae

(as the fable relates), a shoulder; but an eminent virtue,

and especially temperate manners and composed.

[7] But since the finding was difficult (for he lay hidden,

not changing his form, as they feign of

Proteus, but by a certain divine counsel coming to pass,

so that the slower showing might render him more to be desired),

at length with difficulty one of the Emperor's physicians,

known indeed to the Emperor, but very intimate

with the great Sampson, and who knew his affairs best,

not of virtue only, but also of grace and of miracles,

makes him manifest. Hence moreover

it was easy for him to conjecture, he is brought to him, that he was the one who was going to

heal him. This man therefore himself makes that great Sampson

known to the Emperor, and procures for him as great

of the body, and desire to be freed from it, alone can

understand. And straightway indeed the admirable

Sampson came: for between the seeing and the hearing

there intervened not even the briefest time: so great a desire

of seeing the Emperor had seized him. And when

he had seen him, from the things which had been seen by night,

he beautifully recognized those which were beheld

by day, namely the gentleness of the eyes, the cheerfulness

of the form, the honesty of manners, the squalor

of the beard, the sadness of the aspect, and the signs of moderation

which became him. When he had contemplated these things,

with the admirable Sampson drawing near,

he could no longer contain himself, but rising

through immoderate joy, he himself, who was eminent in Empire,

embraces him who was vile and abject in appearance,

and most sweetly kisses him,

not the mouth only, but also the head, saying: Surely,

O father, thou art the very one who didst appear to me wonderfully in sleep:

nay, thou didst even promise to heal my

disease. When he had said these things, straightway

he entered into the inner chambers of the palace, holding that holy man

by the hand. For he did not think he was

doing any great thing, in honoring her whose admirable

virtue he was soon to experience.

[8] But after the Emperor had entered,

and had him sitting with him, and he heals the same Emperor, not yet satisfied with his kindness

toward him, he did still more things.

Taking his hands, he placed them on his own eyes,

and kissing them with the greatest delight,

and dropping tears upon them, he rejoiced. For the necessity

of the disease which pressed upon him brought it about

that he appeared a man rather than an Emperor, and

one who was bent by human miseries, rather than one who was

exalted by Imperial magnificence. But truly

these things—the great moderation and religion of the Emperor—

cast a heavy trouble upon the Saint, and just

as if an injury were being done to him, and too great a modesty

were being exercised toward him, he could not keep silence;

but: Do not so, O Emperor, nor so

submissively and abjectly, he exclaimed: nor by that, that thou

immoderately castest down and depressest thyself, bring it about that

I be condemned of arrogance. For in what am I superior to common

men, who am wretched, and

liable to sins, and have need of the great kindness

and clemency of Christ? But truly this

abundance and fervor of thy faith is the sure messenger of future

help from Christ, who is King of Kings,

and can do all things. When he had said these things, he laid

his hand on the affected part. And it indeed performed

its office. But he himself, by abundance of humility,

wishing to conceal the abundance of grace, by certain things

which he laid by art upon the laboring part, tried to

ascribe the cure. But the truth which was concealed overcame

the medicine which was applied:

and he who in other matters had been known as a worker

of wonderful things, in this also was known to have done

and the Emperor was wholly freed from

the disease, and obtained entire health, striving to conceal the miracle. and was filled

with joy and admiration—the one indeed

on account of his recovered health, but the other

because he who had made him whole was joined

to God by familiarity.

[9] Then also, that he might respond to the benefit

of so great a cure, he gave gold to the Blessed Sampson splendidly

and magnificently, and whatsoever could incite

the desire of him who lives according to the flesh.

But for him to live sparingly and frugally He refuses the gifts, was

riches, and more excellent than any glory or dignity.

He certainly refused the Emperor's liberality and

munificence with opportune and forceful excuses;

Thou givest me, he said, O Emperor,

those things which I willingly left for the sake of Christ, who

possessed much money, and had many

possessions. How then shall I receive

those things, without which I have plainly found it more useful to live, and

from which it has been clearly shown that he who prudently departs is joined

to God? But if, out of thy supreme

kindness and humanity, thou desirest to gratify us in some

matter, let it be done rather to God,

and so what has been done will pass over to us also.

But this shall be done, if near my little house,

which I myself also inhabit, he brings it about, however, that a hospice be built for him. and into which, leading some of those

who labor under diseases, I tend them according to my strength,

thou shouldst raise up a house fit for the sick.

For this shall both purchase for thee a renowned name, and procure for thee

and what had been asked he gladly

admitted, as a gift rather than

the divine temple in the name of God the Wisdom) he ordered,

that this also should be built at the same time, with prompt

and eager zeal of mind, and with a great

multitude of those who built, and with abundance of all expenses,

he indeed supplying liberally,

but the building being effected according to the judgment of the great Sampson.

But after it had been beautifully and magnificently

built, and had been named from his name,

forthwith it was committed to him. And it was

that divine Sampson himself, to whom the administration of the house

had been committed. d

[10] But the Emperor adds yet another thing worthy

of Imperial munificence. For he consecrates to this holy house

no small part of his goods, and not without an excellent

purpose, taken namely from the spoils which that admirable

Belisarius had brought to him from the land of the Assyrians, e

which truly were illustrious and rich. Then

he also endows the house with gifts of possessions, which

both sufficed for its other expenses, and for the sustenance

of the physicians, and of those to whom other

duties had been committed. But when that Blessed man had spent many years

thus in the care of tending the sick, of all of whom

he was solicitous like a father, and had now come to a grievous old age,

and his feeble body brought forth death for him,

he is indeed a little sick, The death of S. Sampson, and that which could

be shown to be a prelude and occasion of death. But he dies

not sad, nor grievously and reluctantly

bearing his departure, as souls are wont who are held

by too much love of the body and the world: but calmly

and cheerfully, as one who knew well by whom he was called,

and from what disturbance to what

repose he was passing, and how great delights were about to receive his blessed

soul. and after death For he knew rewards from labors,

and fruits from seeds. And

his soul, worthy of God and pure, passes to the

heavenly habitation: but his sacred and holy

body is laid honorably in the great

temple of Mocius the Martyr, g inasmuch as the great

Sampson was said to draw kinship from him,

not by body only, but much more by

mind and manners. But by how many miracles he was renowned—he who is in all things most

admirable, not in life only, but also much more after death—neither can the tongue

declare, the miracles. nor the ear admit. For how could it, since not even to the present

day have the streams of his miracles ceased? Nay rather, neither shall they cease, until he shall be the same, and of the same mercy

in interceding for men with God. Let the discourse therefore, if it seems good, pursue a few things, to the glory of God, and

to the delight and profit of those who hear, from among those things which were done after his departure hence.

ANNOTATA OF F. V.

a The Menology

of Constantine Porphyrogenitus has it that he was a kinsman of Constantine

the Great. The printed Menaea have nothing concerning his family.

d This

was the xenodochium (hospice), as Cangius has it in his Christian Constantinople, book 4,

between the church of Sophia and the church of Irene. And, as Cangius says in the same place,

there is extant a Letter of Pope Innocent III, book 13, Letter 17, by which

he confirms to the preceptor and Brethren of the hospital of S. Sampson of Constantinople

the donation of the castle which is called Garelis, made by Henry

Emperor of Constantinople. James of Vitry also mentions this xenodochium in his

History of the West, chapter 29, in these words: Just as there are the Hospitals of the Holy Spirit in the city of Rome

and of S. Sampson in the

city of Constantinople, and of B. Antony in the very head, and of B.

Mary of Roncesvalles at the entrance of Spain, and certain others pleasing to God

and very necessary for the poor pilgrims or the sick.

Sampson was living this xenodochium was in rather poor condition, as is had below

toward the end of num. 17: although, as regards its structure, it was

magnificent enough, as was said in the preceding Commentary at num. 15.

f These things

are not to be understood of the time after the xenodochium was founded by Justinian: but of

the care and solicitude which even before he had

bestowed upon the sick and the poor: for after the xenodochium was built he survived only

one or two years.

CHAPTER II.

Miracles after death.

[11] And first indeed let this be, which both many tongues

sing, and books bear, and all

believe, and which I say came to pass in the popular tumult that arose against the

great, I say, and great-among-emperors shining

Justinian, of the people's onset

which stood up against him, and how

certain all-daring and danger-loving hands,

having kindled fire, against the splendid

of the houses and rich in gold, they fall upon them in particular. The evil therefore begins from the greatest temple of God the Wisdom, and, having spread to the things round about, all of them, then also creeping it comes even to the splendid house of the divine Sampson, and swiftly seizes upon the roof, and roaring it advanced further, and it was expected that very soon it would utterly bring destruction upon the house. What then was there after these things? Many hands, contrariwise to those that had gone before, were moved about it, grace-loving and man-loving, what not doing, and what of the things that could be done not contriving, for the staying of the rush of the fire; but the terror was ever-fighting, and stronger than every help; yet nevertheless it is overcome, and the protection of the Great One becomes mightier. For there were, there were, those who then were deemed worthy to behold the divine Sampson, running round about the roof, and rebuking the fire, and as it were threatening it, and marvelously checking it from its onset; at the sight of whom that fire, as if astounded, both retreated backward and was beaten back; then, when thunder suddenly burst forth, rain, such as it was, abundant, poured down, so that thereby the fire was quenched, but the house was preserved, except for the roof, unharmed.

[12] Let there be added also others of the miracles, not those that came to pass many years before, for lack of new and recent ones (for indeed they do not fail even until now, imitating the rivers that flow ever-perennially), but those that came to pass a little before, that thus they may be the more credible: some of them having those very persons relating them, who enjoyed the favors, tongues truth-loving and altogether hateful to falsehood; and others, those who were related by kindred, or had ministered, or were otherwise made intimate, to those very ones who had experience of the miracles. Straightway then Theodoritus, who is distinguished in the order of the Spatharocubicularii, to whom much virtue is borne witness, goodness together with truth, and a moderate-suffering reasonableness. This man was a servant, and most intimate of the servants, of that Leo, I say, whom the choir of the Patricians and of the Praepositi held, and who passed through both the office of the Drungarius of the seamen (the fleet), and passed through also the rule of the Logothete of the course (the post), in which he also died not more than, at the most, five months after that man's death. To this Theodoritus, then, there was also another Leo by name of those serving together with the illustrious Leo, but also one of those who were on intimate terms and a private person, for he was a Protospatharius, and, as it is customary to name it, over the Manclabium, and a friend to Theodoritus exceedingly, and a fellow-servant of one soul. Against this Leo, then, the Drungarius, being angered upon some pretext, both put him out of his sight, and removed him from his accustomed freedom of access (parrhesia), for a time not brief. I myself also am a witness of the man's harshness toward Leo, and I know the aversion and the long-lasting separation; for I too made request on behalf of Leo, being a friend and an intimate of the Drungarius. Leo therefore was distressed exceedingly vehemently, and was gripped with despondency, and held the grief, even one that touched the very bones and marrow, and strongly melting him away. But the thing that grieved was not only Leo's; rather Theodoritus also drew the same yoke of the matter (as the saying is), and suffered grief together with him and suffered with him, yielding to the laws of love-of-man, inasmuch indeed as he was a friend and a fellow-servant, as the discourse going before declared.

[13] In this way, then, not bearing to behold Leo suffering thus, he ventured, that is to say, and put himself in peril by the words to his own master (for the man was exceedingly hard of approach and hard to converse with, and especially among servants), and made request concerning him in a sensible manner: "He is gone," he said, "Leo is gone; there is fear lest he both do some one of the grievous things, which face to face we do not wish, and lest we be set up as causes of his death; for the unfortunate man is already melted away and consumed, not bearing thy aversion, and very soon he will cast away even his soul." Having said this not once, but also many times, by the continual and well-timed urging he persuades, and beautifully mediates the reconciliation for Leo. Then, having also been commanded to bring him into his sight, that man, out of the exceeding gladness (it so happening that he was going down a stair), and being tripped up by his haste, becomes twisted and dislocated as to the joint of his foot; and straightway he was both voiceless and motionless, broken off by the excessive pain, and the bed held him, scarcely having been carried to it. Three days passed, and he himself lay thus supine, voiceless, sleepless and gaping and foodless, neither admitting water at all, nor moved entirely; but as it were nailed to the bed and differing nothing from a lifeless thing. Yet entreating even while keeping silence the Saint, he sees him standing at the foot of the bed, touching the ankle of the affected foot, and saying, "Arise, for there is no harm to thee at all"; and at the same time that he said this, at the same time he went out, with the eyes of Theodoritus looking on, while his mouth was not even able to utter a sound. And when the Great One was far from his eyes, Theodoritus comes back to himself, and is as it were ensouled, and is shown to be like one moving, and he had his voice and his mouth as before, and was glorifying God with a more cheerful voice, and as it were also murmuring beneath, "This is the holy Sampson." And straightway [to] the servant who attended him, "Arise," he said, "Basil" (for so he was called), "and give me the garment to put on over me." And at the same time he was touching the foot, and seeing it whole. To the other he was applying his hand, the one unharmed from the beginning; for the paradox of the matter was showing him to be almost even beside himself, and as one having forgotten himself, and he was disposed in doubt, and seemed like one at a loss. And besides, the exceeding gladness and the unhoped-for good knows how to put one out of oneself not moderately. When therefore he ascertained that both were sound, straightway eager with eager feet, toward the tomb of him who had healed, he confesses the favor, and the thanksgiving, as a grateful soul knows, he renders in a God-loving manner.

[14] To this Theodoritus, indeed, it fell out to assist also in another miracle, which was wrought concerning his own lord (and it is already clear who this is); but how then it also came to pass. When the Drungarius Leo was once riding, it happens that his horse, dashing against a wall, struck that man's foot grievously. The foot therefore was in evil case, not by a little, but for many days. Then also, being shown thus disposed to the physicians, he was constrained to summon them necessarily to incision and surgery. Now the day was the fourth, when it had so seemed good to the physicians to act; and Nicolaus (he too was one of these, both serving the Drungarius and filling out his house) was appointed to bring on the incision himself. But during that night there appear to Theodoritus three men, entering the house of the Drungarius, in form and dress Romans. Meeting whom, "Whither is the coming?" he asked. And they, with a gentle voice at once, and with a mild glance, "To this thy lord we are coming," they said. To these things it came to Theodoritus to say: "But is it unknown also to you, the lords, what grief the Drungarius has just now, and that today the physicians are about to bring an incision to that man's foot?" And they: "No," they say, "but this thou must not accept; for we shall come to him on the Friday (Parasceve), and shall look upon him." In the morning, then, when the physicians were wishing to lay hold of the work, and to bring the incision upon the foot, Theodoritus restrained them, calling to mind straightway the vision, and having related to them how it stood; and they too, having learned, and having piously judged that the vision was not to be disregarded, held back. And when the Friday (Parasceve) was at hand (O Christ, of thy mighty deeds, how wonderful art thou, O God, in thy Saints!), the foot was such as before the suffering, unimpaired and wholly most healthful, needing not only no incision, but neither any other care.

[15] Not of this only did this illustrious Leo have enjoyment, but he had enjoyment also of another wonder-working of the Great One; for being beset by one of the most grievous diseases, and the other parts of his body being powerless, but the knees, rather, as being well-nigh useless and not even active, he made use of them; for in a level and flat place to walk, perhaps for him at leisure, was not impossible, but to go up a stair, or to journey toward an ascent, was for him one of the Herculean labors—the undertaking. All the physicians therefore, and the other helps, promising nothing more than the promises, he had enjoyment of, and of being gladdened with hopes alone. Then, when the memory of the Saint laid hold of him, he conceives something more God-fearing and truer toward being benefited; and, despising all the others as senseless, he draws near to that man's tomb, in which, having come, he uses neither any treatments, nor otherwise long-lasting attendances, but with prayer alone then and with anointing, of the myrrh that gushes thence upon his knees that were worn out; which being done, he straightway casts away the fetters of the disease, and is strengthened in his feet with a most vigorous strength. Then, with his whole body in health and his soul rejoicing, he returns to his own house. But wishing to show that the benefit was not toward a careless soul as regards the favors, but rather toward a grateful and ministering one—since indeed the house of this divine Sampson was at that time toiling and bowed down to the knee, as to how much in money and in the expenses needful—he asks the good Constantine (for that man was then the one in power) that the protection (administration) of this house be put into his hands. He indeed gave it, for he knew of what sort the man was as to diligence. And he, having received it, did not slacken, and putting hand to it, as the saying is, and foot, and bringing in there all his zeal, until he both raised it up and prepared it to be sufficient in itself.

[16] Nor is this thing worthy to be passed by, which signifies both the one who healed and the same one who was healed in both: for the one was the illustrious Leo, and the divine Sampson the one who healed. The affliction was albugo (a white spot / leucoma upon the eye). This too is one of those things that fawn upon the eyes of men, which, having fallen upon the corner of that man's eye, pressed him strongly. This one of the physicians, having cut out, proved rather to be harming than benefiting, and in this alone, that is to say, not acting wickedly, that he did not willingly bring on the harm; for the incision becomes very great and exceedingly dangerous, which the divine Sampson himself also heals, it being smeared the more frequently with that man's myrrh, a certain very small opening being left behind, and that too according to providence, that is to say, and for the sake of benefiting; for through it a certain moisture

flowing off easily, it relieved together the things behind, both the eye and the head.

[17] Let there be added also the matter of Genesius to the other miracles of the Great One; for it has, along with the fearful, also the graceful, and is fairly worthy to be heard. This Genesius, then, was one of the Clergy, and was also one of those who ministered about the services of this xenodochium, for many years; for indeed his ministry was not less than thirty years. But he happened to be careless about them, and downright slothful. For this very reason, on one of the nights, the Saint, standing over him, lays on him many stripes; saying, "Why dost thou not provide the things of which the sick have need? And why art thou negligent about this thy ministry?" Now these things came to pass as wrought not in a dream, nor even reaching to bare imagination, but face to face upon the very deeds the proof also was manifest; for in the morning Genesius's mouth was voiceless, and black-and-blue marks and lividities were plainly visible about his body, declaring no less than a tongue the things that had been done. Since therefore, even when questioned what he had suffered, he was unable to make it clear, a paper is given to him, and on this, as he was able, he sets down the things that had happened. Three days in the meantime passed, and he was tongueless. But when the things that had been done had now become a matter of report to the Drungarius, such was that man that he was not even to be restrained any longer, but he comes immediately to the holy house, both thirsting to hear more distinctly through question and answers the things that had happened; but being at a loss because of the fetters still lying upon the tongue of the sufferer, he commits the matter to prayer: "Holy one of God," he said, "if thou art conscious with me of my faith, how great it is toward thee, and how most diligent I am about the service, grant to Genesius himself by his very tongue to report to me what he has suffered." So that man, having prayed, did not fail of his request, but Genesius, being questioned by him, at first was stammering, and faintly and brokenly murmuring beneath and saying things less intelligible; but little by little, his tongue being loosed for him, he makes everything clear, adding also the things concerning the house of the Great One; for on account of that house was even more the indignation, which while the Saint was living, and still surviving in this life, was in poor case and sufficiently held in contempt; but when he had passed over to God, and had now become manifest in his holiness, it was altogether needful that it too be deemed worthy of honor and be reckoned as that man's house—which indeed also came to pass, both piously and in a God-loving manner; for it has been changed into a church and is deemed worthy of the fitting consecration.

[18] But neither is the miracle toward Eustratius—who is of the register of the Protospatharii (and is shown still living and surviving)—a small thing, as it were, and an ordinary one, and not even worthy of memory. For that man was suffering in one of his eyes, and very vehemently; and there was a friend and intimate of his, the Protospatharius Leo, whom we declared above to serve the Drungarius, and who also had been entrusted with the protection of the xenodochium from that man, having looked upon him thus stricken with the pains from the eye, said, "If thou wilt do, friend Eustratius, what I shall suggest to thee, thou shalt have nothing hindering thee from having thy eye whole"; and Eustratius asking, "And what then is it that I shall do?"—"The xenodochium has need of oil," he said, "and if thou wilt supply what is toward its need, beyond dispute thou shalt be made whole; nevertheless, if thou wilt, I will also supply to thee written pledges of this." Thus he said, and the words stood not even up to words only, but already passed over also into deed; for, taking courage in the power of the Great One, and in the things which he saw being wrought as wonders by him, Leo gives assurance to Eustratius by a writing, having this form: "I, Leo, having trusted in the power of the Saint, and in the faith with which I am established toward him, give pledge to thee, Eustratius, that, when thou suppliest to thee the oil toward the need of the house, the Great One also will supply to thee the mercy from God, and thou shalt have pain in thine eye no more." The Saint, then, anticipated the things from his own side, making that man's giving, and Eustratius had his eye free from suffering and free from pain. But that man, according to the proverb, at the same time both was pitied and the favor died; for he became negligent of the things which he had promised, after obtaining the things which he wished, very unworthily and dangerously, and was not, even for a little, a supplier of oil toward the holy house. But the Great One, appearing to him by night (and one must use his very words), "Dost thou mock me?" he said; this true vision brings Eustratius to his senses and fills him with fear; for at the same time with light he sent all the oil to Leo, and "I have paid for thee," he says, "already the debt, but do thou propitiate for me the Saint; for I am not able to bear the threats from him."

[19] But the thing that came to pass concerning the Protospatharius Bardas is well-nigh even beyond belief, who happened to be a brother of John, I say, the Patrician, who drew his descent from the Macedonians; and he was exceedingly intimate with Romanus the Emperor, the reasonable and good one, whom all also know to have become the son of Constantine—the one who, to put it all together in a word, was most royal. To this Bardas, then, an affliction visits the side, altogether grievous (the sons of physicians call the affliction "carbuncle"), which also nearly encompassed his whole side, and was perforated into five openings, and gave unbearable pains to the sufferer; for indeed the bitterness of the malady did not stand only up to that point; but also into the breast, either it was diffused from the side, or some other most bitter offshoot was sent up, and it made him large and swollen; and the affliction grew and was strong, so that to the physicians also it seemed to be beyond cure, and they renounced for him the hopes of life. But since the commemoration of the Saint was drawing near, all the physicians, and those so called Chartularii, and as many others as were about to go on the next day—as was customary for them—to the church of the splendid martyr Mocius, and to perform the accustomed litany, leaving him that evening already despaired of, and bereft of good hopes, departed and went away; but in the morning he summons one of the chartularii (this was the Ostiarius Michael), who also related these things to me; and the xenodochus (warden of the hospice) at that time was Bardas, the one worn down by this affliction, who happened to be present; when therefore this man came, he sees him standing, and clothed in clean garments, and disposed in health; thus seeing him to be, he is filled with amazement, but thinking that he was deranged and out of his senses, "Woe is me," he says, "what has happened to thee?"; and he: "But thou, having left off," he said, "the giving of glory to God, as indeed one ought, thou wailest rather, and criest out like those who lament." Nevertheless Michael, still more astonished at the spectacle beyond hope, both asked and inquired diligently, and thirsted to learn the thing that had happened. And he began straightway to speak with brighter tongue and pompously; such indeed is exceeding gladness.

[20] "Since," he says, "having left me in such case, you yourselves departed homeward, I, being smitten both by the pains of the affliction, and by the fact that the hopes of life had been renounced for me, being overcome by despondency, and the more because I myself had not been deemed worthy, with the others, to go to the tomb of the Saint, and to keep the feast of the commemoration together with them, sleepless I passed through the whole night. And as I was lying thus, I see a certain old man who had come out of the church of my house (and he seemed also to be a monk); this man, standing in the midst of this dwelling of mine, and looking toward me, 'To thee I speak,' he says, 'arise.' And when I—'How sayest thou this, for I am not even able?'—had uttered, that man both twice and thrice added, saying thus. And at the last, 'I tell thee,' he says, 'arise, and to the tomb of the holy Sampson go away with speed.' When he had said thus, straightway I raised myself a little from the bed; and I beheld that man going to the church, whence having come out he had appeared to me, returning again, and at last becoming invisible. And then indeed I rose up wholly, and seemed to have been delivered from all pain; then, pressing the swelling of the breast with both hands, I perceived a breath being let out from the side behind. Then also, having called my house-mate (wife) gladly, 'I think,' I said, 'I am in no pain; but do thou loose gently the bandages laid upon the wound.' And she did so, and great loathing held her, and 'Alas,' she said, 'what is this fungus (mushroom) lying upon the wound?'—but it was rotted flesh and to be cast away, drawn out together with the dressings. Thus healed and marvelously restored to strength, I am no longer able to restrain myself, but, obeying the command of him who healed me, I go away to his tomb, to keep the feast together with the others." Having said thus, so indeed he also did immediately, and to the Saint, full of pleasure and joy, he went away; to those who met him, however, it seemed an incredible thing, and the sight a matter of dispute.

[21] Let there be ranged with the foregoing also the very miracle of George, for it is no mean thing, nor an ordinary one, nor such as to be worthy to be overlooked. This man happened to be the household-servant of a certain monk and priest, Ephraim by name, and, being beset by the affliction of dropsy, was laid up in the holy house of the Great One; then, taking it ill at the long-continued confinement to bed, leaving the holy little house of his master he departs. The master, then, did not cease exhorting him and suggesting to go up again, and to remain at the house of the Saint; but since he did not persuade him (for he spared harsher words because of the gravity of the affliction), "Yet at least go inside the oratory," he said, "to do reverence to the very image of the Saint; then, having taken of the oil and anointed thyself, lie down on thy couch." And he did the thing commanded; and when it was day, he was bidden by the master still to do the like things. And he: "But I," he says, "am strong, and by the power of the Saint I have enjoyed pure health; for this very night, the Saint appearing to me in a dream, both touched my belly, and said to me: 'Go away in health, for nothing of the evils troubles thee any more.'" Nor did these things suffice for belief to the master; but he also applied a test, and examined carefully both that man's face, and belly, and feet, and the remaining limbs and parts; and since he saw no remnant nor any trace at all of the affliction, he made use of glorifying toward God and of thanksgiving toward the Saint, having obtained a physician without fee and without falsehood, and seeing his household-servant in health.

[22] But the affliction of Irene also was of like sort; for dropsy too, that most grievous affliction, was hers, which obtained a cure both elegant and most wonderful. Now Irene was a certain woman, the wife of one of those who ministered in the holy house, in which she also, having been laid up, had been despaired of as to her health by the physicians. But the Saint, standing by her at night together with certain two others, with whom he was for the most part wont to appear, who they say were the divine Unmercenaries, Cosmas and Damian, first asked her what she might be suffering; and she seemed to point it out; and the Saint, taking one of these aside, intimated: "It is needful to lay it upon her thigh"; and so he did. But she, as though feeling a certain pain, was roused from sleep, yet perceived nothing of what she had experienced. And when it was day, the serving-woman, coming to her and seeing water poured out beneath the bed, and supposing it to be urine, as was likely, reproached her for the unseemliness and the downright disgrace, and that she had not risen, and had called none of the attendants, but had thus shamed the garments together with the bedding. But she denied that she had done any such thing, saying, "By no means." Then, when the tunic was drawn up, and the incision appeared, and the fluid was running down, the physician was manifest, and she herself was shown to be whole, and returned home in good case.

[23] Let it suffice from these things that the whole favor of the Great One be shown as a sample. For why—according to the tragedy—must one measure things innumerable? For indeed these things, happening, never cease; but they are like the streams of rivers; and besides, since one suffices in place of all, I mean the God-flowing stream, which proceeds from the tomb, and has this for its origin and source. But it proceeds not always, but a few days before the feast of the wonder-worker it first appears as a kind of moisture; then the little increases, and remains after the feast, thus springing up, until some days have passed, and then it ceases. Yet I think it is more marvelled at and honored in this way than if it continued flowing perpetually and without ceasing; since to preserve thus unerring and unfailing the season of the inflow, I mean, and of the cessation, together with being more wonderful and more graceful, is rather also more venerable; for the perpetual is perhaps also wearisome, and satiety is a thing that brings to contempt.

[24] This gift offered by us to thee, O greatest of fathers, Sampson, I know not indeed whether it be according to thy mind, but it is altogether according to our ability, which mayest thou receive both graciously and kindly, thou who art everywhere a lover of mankind, and mayest thou be a good physician of our afflictions and diseases, and the more of those of the soul, and a leader and guardian of all our life; rendering Christ propitious to me, whom thou thyself didst love exceedingly, but whom I, alas, by multitudes of sins unspeakable, have provoked to anger; to whom belongs all glory, honor, and adoration, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

[11] And first indeed let this be, which both many tongues sing, and books bear, A fire at Constantinople is divinely extinguished, and all believe; which happened in the popular tumult stirred up against Justinian, that great and most renowned Emperor. a At that time the hands of most audacious and especially reckless men, bearing fire, attack the most splendid and richest buildings: and they give beginning to the conflagration from the greatest temple of God the Wisdom, which, when it had consumed everything round about, then creeping came even to the splendid buildings of the divine Sampson, and seizes the roof swiftly, and roaring proceeds further: and it was thought that soon the whole house would utterly perish. What then followed afterward? Many hands indeed, grateful and pious, were moved on the opposite side, doing everything, attempting everything of those things which can be done to check the onset of the fire. But the evil was inexpugnable, and overcame every help. Yet it is overcome, and the care of the great Sampson was more powerful than it. For there were, there were, those who then were deemed worthy to see the divine Sampson running about round the roof, and rebuking the fire, and as it were roaring, and wonderfully retarding its onset. At whose sight indeed the fire, as if stupefied, drew back: then, when thunder had suddenly burst forth, abundant rain also flowed down, whereby it came to pass that the fire was extinguished, and the house was preserved unharmed except for the roof. b

[12] Let other miracles also be added, not those which were done many years before—for new and recent ones are not lacking (for to the present day they do not fail, inasmuch as they imitate perennial rivers)—but those which happened a little before, and are therefore more credible; and which were related, both by those very persons who obtained the benefits, truthful men, and haters of all falsehood; and by those who were either kinsmen, or servants, or otherwise familiar to those in whom the miracles were wrought. Let there be present therefore Theodoritus, an illustrious Spatharocubicularius, c whose virtue, probity, veracity, and supreme moderation of mind are most attested. He was the servant, and most intimate of the servants, and he was most familiar and intimate to this man, and most faithful, of that Leo who was of the order of the Patricians, and of the Praepositi, and who held the office of Drungarius d of the Fleet, and also of Logothete (Accountant) e of the course; in which he closed his last day, not more than five months at most after that man's death. Theodoritus had also a companion from the number of those serving with him under the illustrious Leo, himself also called Leo, dear and familiar to his Lord. For he was a Protospatharius, f and, as is the custom to name it, in the Manclabium. g This man was the chief friend of Theodoritus, and a like-minded companion in service. But when the Drungarius had for some cause become angry with this Leo, he held him suspect, and for no small time removed him from his accustomed familiarity, and from the confidence which he formerly had. I too am a witness of the Drungarius's indignation against Leo, and I saw his aversion and long-continued separation. Nay, I too entreated for Leo, as one who was a friend and familiar of the Drungarius. Greatly therefore was Leo distressed, and afflicted with great sickness of mind, and the grief touched his very bones and marrow, and greatly consumed him. Moreover, Theodoritus drew the same yoke, as the saying is, and was moved with pity for him, and was afflicted with grievous grief, yielding to the laws of friendship, as one who was a friend, and a companion in service, as was shown before.

[13] When therefore he could not bear that Leo should be thus afflicted, he ventured to approach his Lord with words (for the access to him was not easy, and he was harsh in encounter of speech, especially among the servants), and, having entered upon a prudent reasoning, he entreated for him: "Leo perishes," he said, "Leo perishes: it is to be feared lest he do himself some grievous thing; which indeed we surely would not wish: and let us not be the authors of his death. For the wretched man has already pined away, and is truly consumed, not bearing thy aversion; and straightway he will lose even his soul." When he had said this not once, but often, by assiduity and opportune persuasion he beautifully reconciles his Lord to Leo; and is bidden to bring him into his sight. But he, through excessive joy and haste (while perchance he had to descend by stairs), having his foot impeded somewhere, grievously sprains it, and lies without voice, motionless and broken with pain; and with difficulty at length he was carried to a bed. Three days had passed, and he lay thus supine, mute, stupefied, without sleep and food, not even admitting water, nor moving at all, but as it were fastened to the bed, and differing nothing from a lifeless thing: yet entreating the Saint even by silence, he sees him standing at the foot of the bed, touching the ankle of the affected foot, and saying: "Arise; there shall be no more harm to thee." S. Sampson heals Theodoritus by a vision. And at the same moment that he said this, he likewise disappeared, while Theodoritus looked on, and through amazement said nothing. But after the great Sampson was far from his eyes, Theodoritus came to himself, and as it were is animated with a new spirit, and is restored to himself; receiving also the use of his mouth and tongue, with glad voice he glorified God, and murmured softly, "This is the Saint Sampson": and straightway he addressed the attendant, saying: "Arise, Basil" (for so he was called), "and give me a garment, that I may clothe myself": and at the same time he touched the foot. But seeing it whole, he applied his hand to the other, which had been unharmed from the beginning. For the wonder of the matter rendered him near to a distracted mind, and he was as it were forgetful of himself, and doubting, and like one hesitating. For excessive joy and a good unexpected and coming beyond opinion is wont to dislodge the mind. But when he found that both were whole, with eager mind he straightway and on foot makes for the sepulchre of him who had bestowed the cure on the wretched man, and refers to him the benefit received, and piously gives thanks, as a grateful and mindful soul is wont.

[14] But it befell this Theodoritus, that the Saint should serve also in another miracle, which was wrought concerning his Lord (and who that is, has now been shown). But how did it come to pass? When this Drungarius Leo was once riding, it chanced that his horse, striking its foot against a wall, struck it grievously. Now the foot was ill, not for a brief time, but for many days. Then, when thus affected it was shown to the physicians, it impelled them to a necessary incision and surgical operation. And it was now the fourth day, on which it had seemed good to the physicians so to do. And Nicolaus (he too was one of those who served the Drungarius, and filled his house) had himself determined to perform the incision. But on that night there appear to Theodoritus three men, entering the house of the Drungarius, in the dress and garb of Romans. Meeting them, he asked: "Whither go ye?" And they, with voice and aspect placid: "We are coming to thy Lord." But to this it came into Theodoritus's mind to say: "But it is hidden from you, O Lords, with how great pain at present the Drungarius labors, and that the physicians are today about to apply an incision to his foot?" But they: "By no means," say they: "and do not thou believe it. For we are coming to him on Friday (Parasceve), and shall inspect his ill." The Drungarius's foot is healed, once, In the morning therefore Theodoritus restrained the physicians, who were now willing to put hand to the work, and to inflict the incision on the foot, straightway remembering the vision, and relating to them how it had been. And when they had understood it, and had piously judged that the vision was not to be despised, they abstained. But when Friday (Parasceve) was now at hand (O thy mighty deeds, O Christ!

How wonderful is God in his Saints!) his foot was

such as it had been before it was injured, clean and wholly sound,

needing not only no incision, but no other

treatment whatever.

[15] Not in this alone was this distinguished Leo eminent, but he obtained yet

another miracle from the great Sampson.

For, suffering from a very grievous disease, he had the other

parts of his body altogether disabled; but his knees

were almost useless, and unable to perform their

office at all. For on level

and even ground he could perhaps somehow walk:

but to climb stairs, or to go up a steep

place, was for him a labor greater than that of Hercules. From all the physicians,

indeed, and from all the others who promised to bring him any help,

he obtained nothing but promises and good hope. and again, Then, when the memory

of the Saint came upon him, he turned over in his mind something more pious,

and more apt for a cure. Despising all others,

as useless, he goes to his sepulcher.

When he had come to it, he employs no

troublesome interludes, nor

does he otherwise sit there many days, but uses only

prayer and the anointing of the ointment which gushes forth from there,

smearing his ailing knees.

When this had been done, immediately freed

from the troubles of the disease, and firmly strengthened with new vigor

in his feet: and soon, sound in his whole body and joyful

in mind, he returns home. But indeed,

since he wished to show that this had been bestowed not upon a slothful man,

unmindful of the benefit received,

but upon a grateful and pious man; because

the house of this divine Sampson was then ill-patched and roofed,

and threatened ruin, having offered moneys and

fitting expenses, as concerned moneys and fitting expenses,

he begs of the good Constantine h (for he

then held the Empire) that the care of restoring it

be entrusted to him. And he indeed granted it. For he knew

how great was the man's industry and diligence.

And when he had received it, he did not slacken, but

aptly moved every rope, and, as

the saying is, contended with hands and feet, and applied his whole

zeal to it, until he restored it, and as far as

was in him, brought it about that it should be in good enough condition.

[16] Nor must this also be passed over, that

it has the same man who suffered, and the same who

cured. For he who suffered was the distinguished

Leo: but the curer was the divine Sampson.

Hyelos i is one of those diseases which corrupt

the eyes of men. and his eye through the anointing of oil. When it had settled upon the corner of his eye,

it pressed it sorely. When some physician

had cut it out, he harmed rather than

helped: in this alone to be excused, that he did not

bring the damage of his own will. For a very great incision is made,

and a very perilous one, which the divine Sampson

himself also cures, while he is anointed more frequently with his ointment,

and that on purpose, and for the sake of

usefulness. For through it a certain humor easily

flowing out profited both eye and head greatly.

[17] Let there be added to the other miracles of the great Sampson

the miracle of Genesius also. For besides its terror,

it has in it also a pleasantness, Negligent in the service of the hospice and is most worthy

of hearing. This Genesius, then, was indeed

one of the Clergy: and he was for many years minister

of the hospice; for his ministry was no less

than thirty years. But in it he was

very slothful and negligent. So one night

the Saint, approaching, inflicted many blows upon him,

saying, Why dost thou not provide those things of which the sick have need?

and why dost thou conduct thyself negligently in this thy ministry?

These things, moreover, were done not in dreams, nor

through a bare vision only; but were soon by the very deed

made manifest. he is beaten and loses his speech, For in the morning Genesius' mouth was indeed mute,

but the bruise and the welts manifest

on his body, no less than his tongue, signified what

had been done. So when, being asked to explain

what had happened to him, he could not,

those things which had been done had been. Three

days passed in the meantime, and he was still

speechless. But when the Drungarius had now heard these things,

he could no longer be contained, but immediately goes to the

sacred house, desiring through

question and answer to hear more clearly

what had been done: but finding no way

because of the bonds by which the sick man's tongue was still

bound, he commits the matter to prayers:

Saint of God, he says, thou knowest, thou knowest how great is my

faith in thee, and how diligent I have been in thy ministry,

grant that Genesius may with his own tongue declare what

he has suffered. which is restored when another prays. When he had thus prayed,

he was not cheated of his petition: but Genesius, being asked by him,

first stammered,

and spoke thinly and brokenly, and said things

which could scarcely be understood. But his tongue

being little by little loosened, he explains everything, adding also

something about the house of the great Sampson: for on account of

it especially had the indignation arisen: which

house indeed, while the holy man was still living

surviving among men, was of no value k and

was despised; but after his death and the manifestation of

his sanctity, ought to be honored with all veneration

and reckoned as it were his own house. Which

indeed was done piously and religiously: for it was changed

into a temple, and obtained the veneration which is fitting.

[18] The hospice promised to one not sending aid But neither is the miracle that was done upon Eustratius,

who is numbered indeed among the Protospatharii

(but is still alive and surviving),

small and common, and unworthy of

commemoration. For one of his eyes

pained him greatly. And since he had a friend and intimate,

Leo the Protospatharius, whom we said before

ministered to the Drungarius, to whom also the

care of the hospice had been committed by him, and he had seen him

afflicted with so great a pain of the eye: If thou doest, said he, O friend

Eustratius, that which I shall suggest to thee, thou shalt have nothing

to prevent thee from having a sound

eye. But when Eustratius asked,

saying: What is it that I am to do? The hospice, said he,

has need of oil: and if thou shalt provide it,

thou shalt recover without any doubt: and, if thou so

wilt, I will set this down in writing; which I promise thee.

So he spoke, and the words did not consist in mere words,

but also went forth into deed. For,

relying upon the power of the great Sampson, and upon the miracles which he saw

done by him, he gives Eustratius a pledge through

writing, which ran thus: I, Leo, relying

on the power of holy Sampson, and on the faith by which I am

confirmed in him, pledge and stand surety to thee, Eustratius,

that, to thee providing for the use of his house

oil, the great Sampson shall also provide from God

mercy, nor shall thy eye pain thee any more.

And the Saint indeed anticipated his gift, cured in his eyes,

and Eustratius had his eye unharmed and free of all pain.

But he at the same time (as the

common saying goes) both obtained mercy, and

the memory of it died for him. For he despised

what he had promised, after he had obtained what he wished,

most unworthily and perilously; and

to the holy house he provided not even the least

oil. But when the Great one had appeared to him by night,

(it is fitting to use his words) Hast thou me, said he,

in mockery? And this vision brought it about and, negligent in carrying out his promise, he is terrified by the Saint. that Eustratius

came to himself, seized with fear. For when

at daybreak he had sent all the oil to Leo: Now,

he said, I have paid thee my debt: but do thou appease the

Saint for me. For I cannot bear his threats.

[19] But what was done upon the Protospatharius Bardas

almost surpasses belief. He is forsaken by the physicians He was the brother

of John the Patrician, who drew his lineage from Macedonia,

and there had been great intimacy between him

and the Roman Emperor, kind and merciful,

whom all know to have been the son of Constantine:

excellent Emperor. Upon this Bardas, then, a disease falls

in the side, and that by far the most grievous (the physicians

call that disease a carbuncle m) which embraced almost the whole

side, and had five

openings: and to the sufferer it brought intolerable

pains. For neither did the bitterness of the evil

stop here, but spread out even up to the breast

from the side, or rather there was propagated a certain other most bitter

swelling, which swelled it up greatly: from which the disease grew, and so

prevailed; that it seemed even to the physicians

that it could not be overcome; and they themselves cast away all hope

of longer life. But when the Saint's

festival drew near, all the physicians, and those who are called

Chartularii, n and whoever on the following day

were, as is their custom, Bardas cured to come into the temple of the illustrious

Martyr Mocius, and to perform the accustomed prayers,

in the evening, having left him, who was plainly despairing in mind,

and empty of all good hope, they departed. But he himself

in the morning summons a certain one of the Chartularii,

Michael by name, the doorkeeper, who narrated these things to me.

But the hospice was then under the charge of Bardas,

who himself was laboring with the disease: and when that

doorkeeper had come to him, and had seen him standing erect,

clothed in clean garments and sound, he is filled with

amazement. And thinking that he was out of his wits, and

was of disordered mind: Alas for me, said he, what

has happened to thee? But thou, replied Bardas, why, neglecting

to give to God the glory that is fitting, dost thou rather weep

and cry out, as if thou wert in mourning? But Michael,

being still more astonished by the spectacle

which had happened beyond hope, diligently

questioned him, and burned to learn what

had been done. But he with a clear and uplifted voice immediately began

to speak. For such a thing is excessive exultation,

[20] After, said he, leaving me thus afflicted,

you departed from the house, who relates the vision. I, agitated by the pains of the disease,

and because no hope of life was left,

overcome by sickness, and especially because it was not

permitted me to come with the others to the Saint's sepulcher,

and to celebrate his festival with them, passed the whole night

sleepless. But lying thus, I see

(but he seemed to be a monk) coming forward until

he had come into the midst of this house: who, looking upon me,

Thee I tell, said he, arise. And when I

answered, How dost thou command me this? for

I cannot: he twice and thrice repeated the same.

But at last; I tell thee, said he, arise,

and go as quickly as possible to the sepulcher of holy Sampson.

When he had said this, I immediately raised myself a little

from the bed, and saw him again returned into

the temple, from which he had seemed to me to come forth, and

at last he was wholly taken from my eyes. Then indeed

I rose fully, and seemed to be freed from

all pain: and pressing the swelling of my breast with both

hands, I felt a certain breath

sent back out from the side. Then, cheerfully addressing

my wife; I seem to myself, I said, to feel nothing amiss:

but do thou gently loose the bandages laid upon the wound. And she

did so, not without great trouble, with which she was afflicted: and,

Alas for me, she said; What is this

amanites, o which is laid upon the wound? But that

was putrefied flesh, separated, which together with

the cloths had been pulled out. Thus I, healed, and beyond

hope and expectation restored to my former

health, could no longer contain myself but that I obeyed

the command of my Curer, and betook myself

to his sepulcher, to celebrate the feast with the others.

When he had spoken thus, immediately he also did

so, and went off to the Saint full of joy and

gladness. But to those who met him, the thing

seemed incredible, and they even doubted their own

eyes.

[21] Let there be joined to the preceding the miracle of George also:

The dropsy is cured, one, for it is neither light, nor common,

nor in any way to be despised. He was

the servant of a certain Monk and Priest, named

Ephraim. But when he was laboring with dropsy,

and had been laid up in the sacred house of the great Sampson,

he indeed rejected all those things which had earlier been applied to him by physicians

for a cure, inasmuch as from

them all he had felt no help. Then, since

he ill bore that he should lie there so long, having left that sacred

house, he went away into the Lord's little dwelling. But the Lord

did not cease to warn and exhort him

to return, and to remain still in the Saint's house.

But when he did not persuade him (for he refrained

from harsher words because of the gravity of the disease),

Enter at least the Oratory, he said, to adore

the very image of the Saint: then when thou hast received

oil, and hast anointed thyself, lie down in thy bed.

But he did what he had been bidden. But after

the day had come, he was indeed bidden by the Lord

still to do likewise; but he;

But I, he said, am now recovered, and by the Saint's power have obtained complete

health. For this night

the Saint appearing to me in sleep touched my belly,

and said to me: Go, since thou art whole: for nothing

amiss troubles thee any more. But these things did not suffice to give faith

to the Lord: but he himself wished to

make trial, and diligently scrutinized

his face, and his belly, and his feet, and the remaining

members; and when he found no remnants of the disease, or traces,

he praised God, and gave thanks to the Saint,

that in him he had found a physician

who without payment had rendered to his servant most assured

health.

[22] Similar was the disease of a certain Irene,

who likewise was herself laboring with dropsy, and that a most grievous one;

and therefore the more solemn and the more wonderful

was her cure. and yet another: She had a husband

from among the number of those who serve the sacred house,

in which she also lay sick, despairing of obtaining health

from the physicians. But the Saint,

appearing by night with two others, with whom

for the most part he was wont to appear (and these they say

to be those divine ones, who heal without any

payment, Cosmas and Damian), first

asked her what evil she suffered.

But she seemed to point out the very evil:

and the Saint to address one of his companions, and to say:

His thigh must be given an incision. And

he indeed did so. But the woman, having felt

yet she knew nothing of those things which she had suffered.

But when day had dawned, the serving-maid, approaching her

and seeing water poured beneath the bed, thinking,

as was likely, that it was urine; reproached

her, that she conducted herself basely and unbecomingly,

and that she had neither risen, nor called any

of the maidservants, but had soiled both garments and coverlets.

But she denied it, saying that she had done no such

thing. Then, the tunic being removed, when the

incision was seen, and the humor flowing out, the physician was thereby

recognized: and she herself came forth sound, and to her home

with joy she returned.

[23] And these things suffice for knowing the

grace which was given to the great Sampson. For why

(as it is in the Tragedy) ought one to number things innumerable

p? For such things as have been done the miracle of the yearly dripping tomb. never

cease to be done, but are after the manner of rivers; and

therefore one miracle suffices for all, as it were

the sepulcher of the holy man, from which it also arises as from

before the feast of the Wonderworker a certain humor as it were

appears, which then little by little increases, and remains

after the feast, thus gushing forth, until some

days have passed: then it ceases. And in this manner, as

I think, it is in greater honor and admiration, than

if it flowed perpetually. Since thus to keep a fixed,

and never-erring time of flowing and of failing,

besides being more pleasing and more wonderful,

is also more venerable. For that which is perpetual

brings perhaps also satiety; and satiety

induces contempt.

[24] Epilogue of the author. This is the gift which is offered to thee by us,

most great Father Sampson, I know not indeed whether according to the mind of thy soul, but certainly according to our

powers. May thou indeed receive it kindly and graciously, who art most kind: and of our diseases,

and therefore rather of the soul than of the body, may thou be a good physician, leader and guardian of our whole

life, rendering Christ propitious to me. Whom thou indeed didst love eminently, but I by the multitude of my sins,

alas for me, more than can be told, have provoked to wrath: to whom is fitting all glory,

honor and adoration now and always, and unto ages of ages, Amen.

NOTES OF F. V.

Νίκα, Conquer. This is fully described by Procopius, On the Persian War, book 1, chapter 24, and the Alexandrian Chronicle at the fifth year of Justinian, etc.

of Sampson the great was burned, and there perished those sick who were lying in it. The great hospice of Sampson was burned up, and there perished those sick who were lying in it.

Turkish Onomasticon says that thus the Greeks call the Staff of a Tribune, which he carries in the manner of a scepter, perhaps from the Latin word Truncus, as Du Cange says; whom consult in both Glossaries. This Drungarius is referred to the Prefecture of the fleet.

e Λογοθέτης τοῦ Δρόμου was he who reckoned the accounts of the public post. See Du Cange in the same place.

i Ὑελοπὴ, says Du Cange in the Greek-Barbarian Glossary, is a defect in hawks, when namely they have eyes as it were glassy. The same seems to be signified by Ὑέλωψ.

p With these Notes the Learned Commentator would by no means have been content, but would also have wished to prepare a new translation, if life had permitted him; which translation, adhering less closely to the order of the Greek words, and to periods prolix even to the disgust of Latin ears, would have exhibited the sense of the Author much more clearly, and, being more broken up, would have fatigued the Reader less. But what he could not do here, prevented by an untimely death; neither can we now, the press not brooking delay: although nevertheless we are unwilling to deny that we too emended several things in the text while correcting the errors of the typesetters.