The Adventurous Simplicissimus

of its virtue. So do we read of a learned man at Athens that after a stone had fallen on his head he forgot all he had ever learned, even to his alphabet. So too another, by reason of sickness, came to this, that he forgot his own servant’s name: and Messala Corvinus knew not his own name, though aforetime he had a good memory. And a priest who had sucked blood from his own veins thereupon forgot how to read and write, yet otherwise kept his memory, and when after a year’s time he had again drunken of the same blood at the same place and the same time, could again write and read. So if a man eat bear’s brains, ’tis said he will fall into such a craze and strong delusion as if he himself were turned into a bear; as is shown by the example of a Spanish nobleman who, having eaten of it, ran wild in the woods and could believe nought else but that he was a bear. My good Simplicissimus, had thy master but known this art, thou mightest well have been changed into a bear like Callisto, rather than into a bull like Jupiter.”

The pastor told me much more of the same sort, gave me more of his medicament, and instructed me as to my carriage for the time to come. So with that I betook myself home again, and with me more than one hundred boys, which all ran after me and again cried after me like calves: insomuch that my master, who was now risen, ran to the window, and when he saw so many fools all at once, was so gracious as to laugh heartily thereat.

IX

Crooked Praise of a Proper Lady

Now no sooner was I come into the house but I must forthwith to the parlour, for there were noble ladies with my lord which desired much to see and to hear his new fool. There I appeared and stood a-gaping like a dummy: whereupon she whom I had before caught at the dance took occasion to say she had been told this calf could speak, but now she did plainly perceive ’twas not true. Whereto I made answer I had also heard apes could not speak, but now could plainly hear ’twas not so.

“What;” says my lord, “opinest thou, then, that these ladies be apes?”

So I answered, “Be they not so already, yet they soon will be: for who knoweth how things will go; Yea, I myself had never expected to become a calf; and yet am I that same.”

Then my lord would ask me whereby I could tell that these ladies should become apes: so I answered him, “Our ape here carrieth his hinder parts naked, but these ladies do so carry their bosom: which other maidens be wont to cover.”

“Ah, rogue,” saith my lord, “thou beest but a foolish calf, and as thou art so thou talkest: for these ladies do of purpose show what ’tis worth men’s while to gaze upon; whereas the poor ape goeth naked for sheer want of clothing. And now be thou quick to make good that wherein thou hast offended: else will we so bastinado thee and so hunt thee to thy goose-pen with dogs as men use to do with calves that know not how to behave themselves. Yet let us hear if thou canst praise a lady as is becoming.”

So I looked upon the lady from head to foot and again from foot to head, and gazed upon her so fixedly and so lovingly as I would take her to wife: and at last, “Sir,” said I, “I see clearly where the fault lieth; for the rascal tailor is the cause of all. The villain hath left those parts, which should cover the neck and the breast, below in the skirts: and therefore do these so trail behind. The botcher should have his hand hewn off that can tailor no better than this.” And “Lady,” quoth I to her, “be rid of him, or he will shame you; and have a care that you do deal with my dad’s tailor, which same was hight Master Powle: for he could fashion fine plaited gowns for my mammy, our Ann, and our Ursula, and all cut even round about below. So did they never drag in the mud like yours: nay, and ye cannot believe what fine clothes he would make for the hussies.”

So says my lord, “Were now thy father’s Ann and thy father’s Ursula handsomer than these ladies;”

“Nay,” said I, “my lord, that may not be: this young maiden hath hair as yellow as sulphur, and the parting of her hair so white and smooth as though one had cut bristle-brushes therefrom; yea, and her hair so sweetly done up in rolls that it is like unto pipe-stems; yea, and as if one had hanged upon each side of her head a pound of candles or a dozen of sausages. Look you now, what a smooth, fair brow she hath! is it not rounder than a plum-pudding and whiter than a dead man’s skull that has hung long on the gallows in wind and rain. ’Tis pity indeed that her tender skin is so stained by puff-powder; for when people see this who understand not such things, surely they will think this lady had the king’s evil, which is wont to produce such a scaly humour; and this were surely pity: for look upon those sparkling eyes: they shine as black as did the soot on my dad’s chimney; for that did use to shine so terribly when our Ann stood there before it with a wisp of straw to warm the room as if fire were therein enough to set the world in a blaze. Her cheeks be rosy enough, yet not so red as the red garters with which the Swabian wagoners at Ulm did truss up their breeches. Yet the