(ΣΥΝΕΧΕΙΑ ΑΠΟ 24/11/2017)
ΧΡΙΣΤΟΦΟΡΟΣ ΠΕΡΡΑΙΒΟΣ 1860
(ΣΥΝΕΧΕΙΑ ΑΠΟ 24/11/2017)
ΧΡΙΣΤΟΦΟΡΟΣ ΠΕΡΡΑΙΒΟΣ 1860
(BEING CONTINUED FROM 27/11/17)
THE THIRD MISSIONARY JOURNEY:
Coptic Ethiopian Traditions
His third missionary journey, if we accept the traditions, began after the first apostolic synod in 49 A.D. This is the only point time-wise when he possibly could have gone to Africa. The sources for the African stories are Ethiopian Coptic traditions, and an apocryphal Greek source, of which we have a revised, edited Latin version by St. Gregory of Tours. If he did go to Africa, it was for a special reason, because this was not the place he origi- nally had been sent to preach. He was to preach in Bythinia, to the Greeks and to the eastern Scythians.
RTE: By “sent to preach” do you mean the tradition that the apostles picked lots as to where they would go?
GEORGE: Yes, but I think it was not only by picking lots that they decided. They organized a plan, they didn’t all just set out into the wilderness.
Now these Coptic traditions say that he made a trip to the Berber (meaning “Barbarian”) lands, but we don’t know exactly where this was because the Berbers were living from the Siwa Oasis in Egypt to Morocco, Mauritania, Mali and Niger, and were the ancestors of the present-day Kabyls (the Turaregs) in Algeria. Perhaps he simply went to a place in modern-day Egypt. From there, these sources say that he went to the land of the Anthropofagi, a very definite place in the area of the Great Lakes on the borders of Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda and Congo. Because, according to the ancient text, there was a volcano there, I believe that this was Lake Kioga, but this is my own opinion. Then, the legends say, he made his way to the abyss near Zimbabwe. According to research of the last century, the Himyarite Arabs were travelling at that time from Yemen to Mozambique to Zimbabwe, the ancient Ofir, where Hiram supposedly took the gold for King Solomon, so possibly the Jews, Phonecians, and Arabs knew this road, but not the Greeks or the Romans.
RTE: Who were the Anthropofagi?
GEORGE: According to the Coptic “Acts of St. Andrew and St. Matthias (Matthew),” an extremely colorful and fantastic apocryphal story, on his third missionary journey St. Andrew was commanded, either from heaven or by the apostles, to go and help St. Matthew because he had been captured by the Anthropofagi, who were man-eaters, cannibals.
RTE: These traditions say that St. Matthew was captured by cannibals and St. Andrew was sent to rescue him?!
GEORGE: Yes, although some traditions say that it was St. Matthias, the majority of the sources think it was St. Matthew because Matthias went to Georgia, while St. Matthew went to Alexandria and Ethiopia. The Coptic sources are definite on this.
Some people have suggested that this “land of the man-eaters” referred to in many ancient texts, was really in Pontus, in Sinope (today’s northern Turkey), but this is not possible. Sinope and Pontus were classical Greece. The only thing they can base this on is that Pausanias, a second-century A.D. geographer, came upon some isolated Greek inns where they sold dried or preserved bits of human organs as medicinal remedies, but this was never a social way of being, even in out of the way places.
RTE: Yes, but how much credence can we put in these apocryphal texts?
GEORGE: As I said, from our vantage we can’t look back in history and determine if something apocryphal was literally true, was based on something true that was elaborated on, or is a complete fantasy. There were different opinions among the Fathers. I believe St. Andrew could have been in Africa, and I substantiate this in my book, but remember, my primary task was to take every tradition, without judging the source, and try to discover if he could have physically traveled there, and, if so, how it fits time-wise and geographically with his other journeys. Admittedly, some of these can seem like wild tales to western readers.
There are many early traditions and texts, and not only Orthodox texts. Even those from heretical traditions like the monophysites may contain correct historical details. They include propaganda for their teachings that aren’t right, but these can be revised or ignored. This is why St. Gregory of Tours, writing in the sixth century, and Hieromonk Epiphanius a monk-historian in Moni Kallistraton in Constantinople in the fifth, both use the text of Leucius Charinus, who was somewhat of a Manichean. St. Gregory recounts the trav- els of St. Andrew in his “Acts of Andrew,” and Epiphanius in Patrologia Greca. They only corrected the doctrinal errors, and from this we can see that many of these early traditions were considered valid even by saints.
RTE: Can you explain how you worked with these texts?
GEORGE: It is difficult, as I spend sixty pages of my book tracing the sources of the African journey, but I will try to give you a synopsis. There are several minor sources for this tradition and two major ones: the Greek text I just mentioned of the “Acts of Andrew,” which may have been by Leucius Charinus, (later cleansed of heresy by St. Gregory of Tours in a Latin version) and the “Acts of Andrew and Matthias (Matthew)” by a Coptic source.
The original Greek “Acts of Andrew” was condemned by Pope Gelasius in the Decretum Gelasianum De Libris Recipiendis Et Non Recipiendis, which was not a synodal decree, but a local condemnation of some apocryphal texts as a reaction to the falsification of holy tradition that existed in the third and fourth century amongst heretics. This was before the Chalcedonian Council. The Decretum, although respected by Orthodox believers has never been a dogma per se, but it is a serious and enlightened guide, which everyone should consider as a valuable protection against heresy.
Although it condemns “the Acts in the name of the Apostle Andrew,” and “the Gospels in the name of Andrew,” (which were possibly the work of a Manichean gnostic, Leucius Charinus), it does not condemn the Coptic “Acts of Andrew and Matthias (or Matthew) in the Land of the Anthropofagi” nor the “Acts of Peter and Andrew” which were of Coptic origin. One might object that the Coptic texts are also forbidden under the term, “the Acts in the name of the apostle Andrew” but this reasoning doesn’t match the other cases in the Decretum where, when we have condemned texts listed as “the acts” of two people, they are described by both names (e.g. “the book which is called the ‘Acts of Thecla and Paul,’” “the book which is called ‘The Repentance of Jamne and Mambre,’” “the Passion of Cyricus and Julitta”).
The Decretum condemns “all the books which Leucius, the disciple of the devil, made…” but no one insists that the “Acts of Andrew and Matthias (or Matthew) in the land of the Anthropofagai” and the “Acts of Peter and Andrew” are the work of Leucius Charinus. On the contrary, most scholars accept that these texts are the work of an unknown Coptic monk (with the national, not the religious meaning of Coptic, because this was the pre- Chalcedonian period). This author could have been a gnostic heretic or equally, he could have been an Orthodox ascetic of the desert. We don’t have enough evidence to support either view.
Both the great church historian Eusebius of Caesarea and St. Epiphanius of Salamis also condemned the “Acts of Andrew,” but not “The Acts of Andrew and Matthias (Matthew) in the Land of Anthropofagi” and the “Acts of Peter and Andrew.” As far as we know, they didn’t even refer to these texts. The reason I am even considering material that was originally from this condemned text is that in the sixth century St. Gregory of Tours corrected the heretical points in “The Acts of Andrew” by Charinus, publishing a revised text with the name “Vita and Patio” (Life and Passion of Saint Andrew,)” which has been generally approved by the Holy Orthodox Church (parts of it appearing in hymns and services, and in the Synaxarion) as a basis for the Life of Saint Andrew. In this revision, St. Gregory of Tours accepts that Apostle Andrew preached to the Anthropofagai in Africa before his trip to Achaia-Greece. He obviously believed this. His version has never been condemned by the Church, and I use it as one of my possible sources.
Neither have the Catholic or Orthodox Churches condemned the Latin “Golden Legend” of Voragine or the Anglo-Saxon epic poem “Andreas” (probably of Cynewolf) in which the old story of “The Acts of Andrew and Matthias (or Matthew) in the land of Andropofagi” re-appears in both a pious (Voragine), and folkloric (Andreas) form. This does not mean that they are accepted as historical fact, it just means that they do not contain heresy. Western scholars view them as legends.
In the Decretum of Pope Gelasius, there are other texts condemned as well: “the book which is called ‘The Assumption of Holy Mary,’” “the book which is called the ‘Lots of the Apostles’,” “The Passion of Cyricus and Julitta,” and so on. If you read these, you find that in many points they are almost identical to the holy and sacred tradition of our Orthodox Church minus the heresies. (Compare these texts and the Orthodox Great Synaxarion). Even the names “Joachim and Anna,” the holy parents of the Mother of God, are only found in apocryphal texts which have survived from this early era. This does not mean that we can consider these sources as completely true or valuable in themselves. Rather, we accept that some of what is written in them can also exist in our holy Orthodox tradition. We cannot declare that everything in them is wrong (such as the dormition of the Mother of God, when the Lord took her body and soul to heaven, the martyrdom of Apostle Andrew in Patras, the martyrdoms of Cyricus and Julitta, the tradition that the apostles “drew lots”). In fact, these condemned sources may have some true historical facts mixed with legends and fairy- tales, and poisoned by heretical nonsense. The nonsense is what Pope Gelasius condemned and what St. Gregory cleaned up. Another example of this borrowing is that Orthodox writers and church fathers have generally accepted the texts of Tertullian as a valuable historical source, although his doctrinal errors were also condemned by the Decretum.
There are other sources of this tradition of St. Andrew in Africa as well: the hymnograpy of some Pre-Chalcedonian churches (e.g. Ethiopians and Copts) and the synaxarion of the Armenians which says that “Andrew preached among the cannibals, or in the land of Barbarians (Enivarvaros), a place identical to Azania according Claudius Ptolemy. As Orthodox, we cannot ignore this, because it is very likely that these sources come from the ancient period of the unity of the Churches. If not heretical, they could be an Orthodox tradition, although this has not yet been confirmed.
There are also non-Christian historical sources saying the same thing – Arab Islamic texts that say that the Holy Apostle Andrew preached in “the land of the cannibals, that was a land of the blacks.” These sources are important because they are not Christian, they come from the early traditions and memories of the Arabic peoples.
Finally we have to remember that not every apocryphon is a forgery or a legend. Orthodox theologians and fathers have taught us to classify as an apocryphon those ancient Christian documents of unknown or unreliable validity. Some are heretical, some are forgeries, others are fantasies and romances. Some have interesting information that may even seem familiar as they incorporate real pre-existing sources (which we no longer have copies of) that are the basis of some of our Orthodox tradition, hymnography, and iconography. Not all apocryphal texts have been condemned by the Church. Of those that haven’t been condemned, our Christians fathers and theologians were free to express their own opinions. In Orthodox tradition, no human opinion is considered infallible. Only our beloved Jesus Christ is infallible, and only the Ecumenical Councils declared unmistakable truths.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
St. Epiphanius of Salamis, Cyprus (feast day, May 12): Condemned “The Acts of Andrew” and declared in his Panarion that, amongst other heretics, the Encratites, the Apostolici, and the Origenists used that text.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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(ΣΥΝΕΧΕΙΑ ΑΠΟ 15/11/17)
του Ισλαμικού Εθνικισμού λόγω ίσως των επιλογών του Ιωάννη Καντακουζηνού.
Είναι όμως δικαιολογημένη η άποψη ότι ο Καντακουζηνός δεν ήταν η
μόνη αιτία της πρώτης εγκαταστάσεως των Τούρκων στη Βαλκανική. Η κυρία αιτία – όπως και ο ιστορικός Vasiliev96 δέχεται – έγκειται στις γενικές
συνθήκες που επικρατούσαν κατά την διάρκεια της Παλαιολόγειας περιόδου (14ος αιών). Οι αλληλοσυμπλεκόμενες ιδεολογικοπολιτικές κινήσεις σε συνδυασμό με τις θρησκευτικο-κοινωνικές ανακατατάξεις (Ησυχασμός, Ζηλωτές), αλλά και η μη ύπαρξη μιας άλλης ισχυρής κρατικής αποτρεπτικής δύναμης την περίοδο εκείνη, συνέβαλαν στην ανεμπόδιστη παρουσία των Τούρκων στα Βαλκάνια. Μια εξέλιξη που απεδείχθη μοιραία τόσο για το Βυζάντιο όσο και για την Ευρώπη. Άλλωστε ούτε ο Σλαυϊκός κόσμος (Δου σάν), ούτε και ο Δυτικός (Γενουάτες-Βενετοί) έδειχναν να ανησυχούν ιδιαίτερα από την ολοένα αυξανόμενη επιρροή του Ισλαμισμού. Και οι δύο αυτές δυνάμεις, θα έλεγε κανείς, πως με την συμπεριφορά τους επεδίωκαν αν όχι την άμεση συνεργασία τους με τους Ισλαμιστές, σίγουρα όμως την ισχυρή παρουσία αυτών στη περιοχή, προκαλώντας τον Καντακουζηνό να συμμαχεί μαζί τους. Οι Τούρκοι με τις συνεχείς εισβολές τους είχαν προετοιμασθεί για την δυναμική παρουσία τους. Επομένως και αν ακόμα ο Καντακουζηνός δεν τους είχε καλέσει, αυτοί ήταν ήδη αποφασισμένοι να εμφανισθούν στις Ευρωπαϊκές περιοχές97.
Είναι λοιπόν δικαιολογημένη η επιμονή μας στη συζήτηση της Ισλαμικής
παρουσίας στα πολιτικά δρώμενα της εποχής. Διότι με αφορμή τις
εμφύλιες διενέξεις στον Βυζαντινό κόσμο ο σουνιτισμός και ο σιϊτισμός
έθεσαν τις βάσεις για την επικίνδυνη παρουσία τους στα Βαλκάνια και στην
Ευρώπη. Κατ’ αυτόν τον τρόπο αναπτύσσεται και η παρουσία του τάγματος
των Μπεκτασήδων στη Θράκη98.
94.Φιλόθεου Κόκκινου, Λόγος εις “Αγων Γρήγορων Παλαμαν εις Δ. Τσάμη, Φιλόθεου Κωνσταντινουπόλεως του Κόκκινου, Αγιολογικά έργα, Κέντρον Βυζαντινών Ερευνών, Θεσσαλονίκη, 1985. σ. 532.
95.Γ. Θεοχαρίδη, ό.π., σ. 412. Ι. Καντακουζηνού, III, σ. 304-308, Γρήγορα, III, σ.G. Ostrogorsky, ό.π., σ. 281-282. D. Nicol, ό.π., σ. 212. Γ. Καραγιαννόπουλου, Το Βυζαντινό Κράτος, σ. 179. Για τις εξελίξεις στη Θεσσαλονίκη μετά το τέλος του κινήματος των Ζηλωτών βλ. και το άρθρο της Β. Νεράτζη – Βαρμάζη, “Η Θεσσαλονίκη μετά το τέλος του κινήματος των Ζηλωτών”, Ιστορία της Θεσσαλονίκης, τ. 1, Θεσσαλονίκη 1985, σ. Επίσης
Φιλόθεου Κόκκινου, ό. π., σ.σ. 532-552.
96.Vasiliev, Ιστορία της Βυζαντινής Αυτοκρατορίας 324-1453, εκδ. Μπεργαδή, σ. 774.
97.Ας μην ξεχνάμε ότι ο Καντακουζηνός είχε χρησιμοποιήσει κατά το παρελθόν, και πολύ σωστά, τους Τούρκους εναντίον της εκμεταλλευτικής δυνάμεως των Ιταλικών πόλεων,
γνωρίζοντας πολύ καλά τους κινδύνους από τις αρπαχτικές διαθέσεις των Τούρκων, τις οποίες και αντιμετώπιζε όσες φορές του το επέτρεπαν οι συγκυρίες. Είναι γι’ αυτό ίσως άδικη η κριτική που ασκείται στον Καντακουζηνό, ότι δήθεν αγνοούσε εντελώς τους κινδύνους εκ του
Ισλάμ. Τέτοιου είδους αρνητική κριτική μπορούμε, για παράδειγμα, να διαπιστώσουμε στο άρθρο του Αθ. Αγγελόπουλου, “Τα ιδεολογικά ρεύματα στη Μακεδονία και στη Θράκη κατά την Παλαιολόγεια περίοδο. Το Ισλάμ στην Ευρώπη (14ος αι)”, Κέντρο Ιστορίας Θεσσαλονίκης του Δήμου Θεσσαλονίκης, Επιστημονικό Συμπόσιο, Χριστιανική Θεσσαλονίκη,
Παλαιολόγειος Εποχή, Θεσσαλονίκη 1989, σ. 62.
Είναι ενδεικτικό το γεγονός ότι ο γνωστός Joseph Gill, επισημαίνει ότι ο Ι. Καντακουζηνός γνώριζε πολύ καλά τους κίνδυνους από τους Τούρκους, γι’ αυτό και αναφέρει ο εν λόγω μελετητής την προσπάθεια του αυτοκράτορα για να συνάψει συνθήκη με τον Πάπα και τους Λατίνους (1347-48), προκειμένου ν’ αντιμετωπισθεί από κοινού ο κίνδυνος από τους Τούρκους.
J. Gill, “John VI Cantacuzenus and the Turks”, ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΑ 13i (1985) 76.
Είναι χαρακτηριστική η δραστηριότητα της Βυζαντινής Κυβέρνησης, η οποία προκειμένου ν’ αντιμετωπισθεί ο Τουρκικός κίνδυνος είχε περιορισθεί αποκλειστικά στον διπλωματικό τομέα. “Μόνο με τη διπλωματία το Βυζάντιο επιζητούσε και αγωνιζόταν άλλοτε να
εξασφαλίσει συμμάχους από τα Βαλκάνια ή τη Δύση ενάντια στον ακαταμάχητο εχθρό και άλλοτε να συγκρατήσει την ορμητικότητα των Τούρκων υποχωρώντας κατά καιρούς στις απαιτήσεις τους. Ανάλογα με τις περιστάσεις επικρατούσε άλλοτε η μία και άλλοτε η άλλη από τις τάσεις αυτές. Ακόμη και ο Ιωάννης Ε’ Παλαιολόγος δεν απέφευγε κάθε συμβιβασμό με τους Τούρκους, αν και στρεφόταν περισσότερο προς τη Δύση. Το αντίστροφο συνέβαινε με τον Ιωάννη ΣΤ’ Καντακουζηνό” Β. Νεράτζη-Βφμάζη, “Κωνσταντινούπολη 1360-1370. Μία περίοδος αποθάρρυνσης”, ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΑ 132 (1985) 928.
Ανατρέχοντας στις πηγές της περιόδου που μας αφορά, διαπιστώνουμε ότι επιβεβαιώνονται τα παραπάνω. Δημ. Κυδώνης, Ρωμαίοις συμβουλευτικός, P.G. 154, 1001: “τοις πανταχού δυναμένοις πρέσβεις υπέρ συμμαχίας πέμποντες ενοχλείτε”, και Περί Καλλιπόλεως, P.G. 154, 1020: “εξόν άλλοις έπιτάττειν, άλλοις υπακούειν αίρήσεται”. Επίσης Ι. Καντακουζηνού, Ιστορία III, 294
98.Αθ. Αγγελόπουλου, ό.π., σ. 59ε.
(BEING CONTINUED FROM 14/11/17)
THE traditions of the Neo-Platonic philosophy, with its elaborate theurgical system, were to some extent perpetuated through the whole period of the Middle Ages, for beside the orthodox theology of the great Latin Church, and amidst the clamour of scholastic philosophy, we find the secret theosophy of the magician, the Kabbalist, and the alchemical adept borrowing, directly or indirectly, from this prolific fountain of exalted mysticism. The traces of its influence are discoverable in Augustine, in Albertus Magnus, in St Thomas, the angel of the schools, and in other shining lights of western Christendom, while the metaphysical principles of Johannes Scotus Erigena, even so early as the close of the ninth century, were an actual revival of this philosophy. He translated the extraordinary works of Pseudo-Dionysius on the celestial hierarchies, the divine names, &c., which were an application of Platonism to Christianity, 1 “and proved a rich mine to the mystics.”
[paragraph continues]This translation was largely circulated and held in the highest repute, more especially in Germany, where the Areopagite was appealed to as an authority by Eckhart at the beginning of the fourteenth century. At this time Germany was a stronghold of mysticism, which, according to Ueberweg, 1 was at first chiefly developed in sermons by monks of the Dominican Order; its aim was to advance Christianity by edifying speculation, and to render it comprehensible by the transcendent use of the reason. “The author and perfecter of this entire development was Master Eckhart,” who taught that the creature apart from the Absolute, that is, from God, was nothing, that “time, space, and the plurality which depends on them,” are also nothing in themselves, and that “the duty of man as a moral being is to rise beyond this nothingness of the creature, and by direct intuition to place himself in immediate union with the Absolute.” 2
Eckhart was followed by Tauler, a great light of German mysticism, and one profoundly versed in the mysteries of the spiritual and interior life. A century later, with the revival of Platonism, came the Cardinal Nicolas Cusanus, “a man of rare sagacity, and an able mathematician, who arranged and republished the Pythagorean ideas, to which he was much inclined, in a very original manner, by the aid of his mathematical knowledge.” 3 This representative of the mysticism of Eckhart provided Giordano Bruno with the fundamental principles of his sublime and poetical conceptions. Bruno “renewed the theory of numbers, and gave a detailed explanation of the decadal system. With him, God is the great unity which is developed in the
world and in humanity, as unity is developed in the indefinite series of numbers.” 1
The death of Giordano Bruno in the year 1600 brings us to a period of palmary importance and interest in the history of religion, science, and philosophy. The revival of learning had for some two centuries been illuminating and enlarging the intellectual horizon of Europe; the Reformation was slowly removing in several countries those checks which had hindered freedom of inquiry on most speculative subjects; that which had been practised in the privacy of the study might be displayed almost on the house top, that which had been whispered at the Sabbath of the Sorcerers could be canvassed with impunity in the market place. The spirit of the age which had dethroned the crucifix, burnt candles before the busts of Plato and Plotinus. The revolution in theology was followed by a general revolt against the old philosophical authorities, the seeds of which revolt must be looked for at the time when Aristotle and the Peripatetic successors were enthroned upon the ashes of the scholiasts, who pretending to follow Aristotle, had. perverted and disfigured his doctrines. As the birthplace of the Reformation, Germany enjoyed a greater share of intellectual unrestraint than any other country of Europe, and it was a chaos of conflicting opinions on all debateable topics. The old lines were loosened, the old tests failing, the chain of tradition was breaking at every point, a spirit of restless feverish inquiry was abroad, and daily new facts were exploding old methods. Copernicus had revolutionised astronomy by his discovery of the true solar system, Galileo already had invented the thermometer, and was on the threshold of a glorious future; a century
previously Columbus had opened the still illimitable vistas of the western world; great minds were appearing in every country; amidst a thousand blunders, the independent study of the Bible was pursued with delight and enthusiasm, and in every city the hearts of an emancipated people were glowing with hope and expectation at the promise of the future.
Now, in an age of progress, of doubt, and of great intellectual activity, it is singular to remark the almost invariable prevalence of mysticism in one or other of its manifold phases, and the close of the sixteenth century beheld spreading over the whole of Germany and passing thence into Denmark, France, England, and Italy, a mighty school of mysticism in the great multitude of magicians, alchemists, &c., who directly or indirectly were followers of the renowned Paracelsus.
The sublime drunkard of Hohenheim, the contemporary of Agrippa, but grander in his aspirations, vaster in his capacities, and, if possible, still more unfortunate than the brilliant pupil of Trithemius, was the intellectual product of the great school of Kabbalism represented by Reuchlin and Picus de Mirandola. He united to his theoretical knowledge of theosophical mysteries an unrivalled practical acquaintance with every form of magic, and was as much an innovator in occult science as a reformer in medicine. For all orthodox alchemists, magicians, and professors of hidden knowledge, Paracelsus is a grand hierophant second only to the traditional Hermes. His brief and turbulent career closed tragically in the year 1541, but the works which he left secured him a vast posthumous audience, and the audacity of his speculations were undoubtedly instrumental in the emancipation of the German mind from the influence of traditional authority.
At the close of the sixteenth century, then, we find the disciples of Parcelsus seeking, after the principles of their master and by the light of experimental research; 1. The secret of the transmutation of metals, or of the magnum opus, and applying to chemistry the usages of Kabbalism and ancient astrology. 1 2. The universal medicine, which included the Catholicon, or Elixir of Life and the Panacea, the first insuring to its possessor the prolongation or perpetuity of existence, the second restoring strength and health to debilitated or diseased organisms. 3. The Philosophic Stone, 2 the great and universal synthesis which conferred upon the adept a sublimer knowledge than that of transmutation or of the Great Elixir, but on which both of these were dependent. 3 “This stone,” says a modern writer, who fairly interprets the more exalted and spiritual side of Hermetic traditions, “is the foundation of absolute philosophy; it is the supreme and immoveable reason. . . . To find the Philosophic Stone is to have discovered the Absolute,” 4
that is, the true raison d’être of all existences. Thus the initiate aspired to that infallible knowledge and wisdom which is afforded by divine illumination, his search for which is sometimes spoken of as the search for the quadrature of the circle, that is, for the extent or area of all sciences human and divine.
Among the concourse of inquirers, and the clamour of supposed and pretended discoverers, there rose gradually into deserved prominence an advanced school of illuminati, who, employing the terminology of the turba philosophorum, under the pretence of alchemical pursuits appear to have concealed a more exalted aim. The chief representative of this sect at the end of the sixteenth century was Henry Khunrath, and the work in which its principles are most adequately expressed is the “Amphitheatrum Sapientiæ Æternæ.” The student is directed by these writers from the pursuit of material gold to the discovery of incorruptible and purely spiritual treasures, and they pretend to provide a mystical key or Introitus apertus to the “closed Palace of the King,” in which these treasures are contained. Physical transmutation, the one and supreme end of the practical alchemist, sinks into complete insignificance; nevertheless, it is performed by the adept and is a landmark in his sublime progress. Rejecting the material theory even for this inferior process, they declare its attainment impossible for the unspiritual man, and just as the alchemical nomenclature is made use of in a transfigured sense, so the terminology of metaphysics appears to be pressed into the service of a conception far transcending the notions commonly conveyed by the words wisdom, spirituality, &c.
The result of this singular division in the camp of the alchemists was the inevitable mental confusion of that great
crowd of inquirers into the secrets of nature who formed the audience of professional adepts. Every year books and pamphlets were issued from the German press, and purported to contain the secret of the Magnum Opus, expressed for the first time in plain, unmistakeable terms, but no writer proved more intelligible than his predecessors; the student, surrounded by authors whose search had been crowned with complete and unexampled success, could himself make no progress, new methods, though warranted infallible, were as barren as the old in their operation, and the universal interest in the subject was an incentive to innumerable impostors, who reaped large profits from the publication of worthless speculations and lying recipes. At such a juncture the isolated investigator naturally sought the assistance which is afforded by association; meetings of men like-minded took place for the discussion of different questions concerning the secret sciences; doctrines and practices were compared; men travelled far and wide to exchange opinions with distant workers in the same fields of experimental research, and the spirit of the time seemed ripe for the establishment of a society for the advancement of esoteric science and the study of natural laws. It was at this interesting period that the Rosicrucian Fraternity made public for the first time the fact of its existence, and attracted universal attention by its extraordinary history, and by the nature of its claims.
PARACELSUS, in the eighth chapter of his “Treatise on Metals,” gave utterance to the following prognostication:–Quod utilius Deus patefieri sinet, quod autem majoris momenti est, vulgo adhuc latet usque ad Eliæ Artistæ adventum, quando is venerit. “God will permit a discovery of the highest importance to be made, it must be hidden till the advent of the artist Elias.” In the first chapter of the same work, he says:–Hoc item verum est nihil est absconditum quod non sit retegendum; ideo, post me veniet cujus magnale nundum vivit qui multa revelabit. “And it is true, there is nothing concealed which shall not be discovered; for which cause a marvellous being shall come after me, who as yet lives not, and who shall reveal many things.” These passages have been claimed as referring to the founder of the Rosicrucian order, and as prophecies of this character are usually the outcome of a general desire rather than of an individual inspiration, they are interesting evidence that then as now many thoughtful people were looking for another saviour of society. At the beginning of the seventeenth century “a great and general reformation,” says Buhle,–a reformation far more radical and more directed to the moral improvement of mankind than that accomplished by Luther,–“was believed to be impending over the human race, as a necessary
forerunner to the day of judgment.” The comet of 1572 was declared by Paracelsus to be “the sign and harbinger of the approaching revolution,” and it will be readily believed that his innumerable disciples would welcome a secret society whose vast claims were founded on the philosophy of the master whom they also venerated, as a supreme factor in the approaching reformation. Paracelsus, however, had recorded a still more precise prediction, namely, that “soon after the decease of the Emperor Rudolph, there would be found three treasures that had never been revealed before that time.” It is claimed that these treasures were the three works which I proceed to lay before my readers in this and in the two succeeding chapters.
Somewhere about the year 1614 a pamphlet was published anonymously in German, called “Die Reformation der Ganzen Weiten Welt,” which, according to De Quincey, contained a distinct proposition to inaugurate a secret society, having for its object the general welfare of mankind. This description is simply untrue; the “Universal Reformation” is an amusing and satirical account of an abortive attempt made by the god Apollo to derive assistance towards the improvement of the age from the wise men of antiquity and modern times. It is a fairly literal translation of Advertisement 77 of Boccalini’s “Ragguagli di Parnasso, Centuria Prima;” its internal connection with Rosicrucianism is not clear, but it has been generally reprinted with the society’s manifestos, alchemical interpretations have been placed on it, and it is cited by various authors as the first publication of the Fraternity. I have determined to include it in this collection of authoritative documents, and have made use for this purpose three versions already existing
in English. The literal translation from the Italian, made by Henry Earl of Monmouth, 1 has been taken as the base. I have compared it with the original, and with the later versions which appeared in 1704 2 and 1706, 3 and, where possible, I have abridged it by the elision of unnecessary and embarrassing prolixities.
It is needless to say that the unfortunate Trajano Boccalini had no connection himself with the Rosicrucian Brotherhood. The first “Centuria” appeared in 1612 at Venice, and he met his tragical and violent death in the following year.
A Universal Reformation of the Whole Wide World, by order of the God Apollo, is published by the Seven Sages of Greece and some other Litterati.
The Emperor Justinian, that famed compiler of the Digests and Code, the other day presented to Apollo, for the royal approbation, a new law against self-murder. Apollo was mightily astonished, and fetching a deep sigh, he said, “Is the good, government of mankind, Justinian, then fallen into so great disorder that men do voluntarily kill themselves? And whereas I have hitherto given pensions to an infinite number of moral philosophers, only that
by their words and writings they may make men less apprehensive of death, are things now reduced to such calamity that even they will now live no longer, who could not formerly frame themselves to be content to die? And am I amongst all the disorders of my Litterati all this while supinely asleep?” To this Justinian answered, that the law was necessary, and that many cases of violent deaths having happened by many men having desperately made themselves away, worse was to be feared if some opportune remedy were not found out against so great a disorder.
Apollo then began diligently to inform himself, and found that the world was so impaired, that many valued not their lives nor estate, so they might be out of it. The disorders necessitated his Majesty to provide against them with all possible speed, and he absolutely resolved to institute a society of the men most famous in his dominions for wisdom and good life. But in the entrance into so weighty a business he met with insuperable difficulties, for amongst so many philosophers, and the almost infinite number of vertuosi, he could not find so much as one who was endowed with half the requisite qualifications to reform his fellow-creatures, his Majesty knowing well that men are better improved by the exemplary life of their reformers than by the best rules that can be given. In this penury of fitting personages, Apollo gave the charge of the Universal Reformation to the Seven Wise Men of Greece, who are of great repute in Parnassus, and are conceived by all men to have found the receipt of washing blackmoors white, which antiquity laboured after in vain. The Grecians were rejoiced at this news for the honour which Apollo had done their nation, but the Latins were grieved, thinking themselves thereby much injured. Wherefore Apollo, well knowing
that prejudice against reformers hinders the fruit that is to be hoped by reformation, and being naturally given to appease his subjects’ imbittered minds more by giving then satisfaction then by that legislative power with which men are not pleased withal, because they are bound to obey it, that he might satisfie the Romans, joined in commission with the Seven Sages of Greece, Marcus and Annæus Seneca, and in favour to the modern Italian philosophers, he made Jacopo Mazzoni da Cesena Secretary of the Congregation, and honoured him with a vote in their consultations.
On the fourteenth of the last month the seven wise men, with the aforesaid addition, accompanied by a train of the choicest vertuosi of this State, went to the Delfick Palace, the place appropriated for the Reformation. The Litterati were well pleased to see the great number of pedants, who, baskets in hands, went gathering up the sentences and apothegms which fell from those wise men as they went along. The day after the solemn entrance they assembled for the first time, and ’tis said that Thales the Milesian, the first of the Grecian sages, spake thus:–
“The business, most wise philosophers, about which we are met, is the greatest that can be treated on by human understanding; and though there be nothing harder then to set bones that have been long broken, wounds that are fistuled, and incurable cancers, yet difficulties which are able to affright others ought not to make us despair, for the impossibility will increase our glory, and I do assure you that I have already found out the true antydote against the poyson of these present corruptions. I am sure we do all believe that nothing hath more corrupted this age then hidden hatreds, feigned love, impiety, and the perfidiousness of double-dealers under the specious cloke of simplicity, love
to religion, and charity. Apply yourselves to these, evils, gentlemen; make use of fire and razor, lay corrosive plasters to these wounds which I discover unto you, and mankind, which by reason of their vices, that lead them the highway to death, may be said to be given over by physitians, will soon be made whole, become sincere and plain in their proceedings, true in what they say, and such in their sanctity of life as they were in former times. The true and immediate cure, then, for these present evils consists in necessitating men to live with candour of mind and purity of heart, which cannot be better effected then by making that little window in men’s breasts which his Majesty hath often promised to his most faithful vertuosi; for when those who use such art in their proceedings shall be forced to speak and act, having a window whereby one may see into their hearts, they will learn the excellent virtue of being, and not appearing to be; they will conform deeds to words, and their tongues to sincerity of heart; all men will banish lies and falsehood, and the diabolical spirit of hypocrisy will abandon many who are now possest with so foul a fiend.”
The opinion of Thales was so well approved by the whole Congregation that it was unanimously voted just, and Secretary Mazzoni was commanded to give Apollo a sudden account thereof, who perfectly approved the opinion, and commanded that they should begin that very day to make windows in the breasts of mankind. But at the very instant that the surgeons took their instruments in hand, Homer, Virgil, Plato, Aristotle, Averroes, and other eminent Litterati went to Apollo, and said his Majesty must needs know that the prime means whereby men do govern the world with facility is the reputation of those who command, and they hoped his Majesty would be tender of the
credit which the reverend Philosophical Synod and the honourable Colledg of Vertuosi had universally obtained for sanctity of life and manners. If his Majesty should unexpectedly open every man’s breast, the philosophers who formerly were most highly esteemed ran evident hazard of being shamed, and that he might, peradventure, find fowlest faults in those whom he had held to be immaculate. Therefore, before a business of such importance should be taken in hand, they entreated that he would afford his vertuosi a competent time to wash and cleanse their souls. Apollo was greatly pleased by the advice of so famous poets and philosophers, and, by a publick edict, prorogued the day of incision for eight days, during which everyone did so attend the cleansing of their souls from all fallacies, hidden vice, hatred, and counterfeit love, that there was no more honey of roses, succory, cassia, scena, scamony, nor laxative syrups to be found in any grocer’s or apothecary’s shop in all Parnassus; and the more curious did observe that in the parts where the Platonicks, Peripateticks, and Moral Philosophers did live, there was then such a stink as if all the privies of the country had been emptied, whereas the quarters of Latin and Italian poets smelt only of cabbadg-porrage.
The time allotted for the general purging was already past, when, the day before the operation was to begin, Hippocrates, Galen, Cornelius, Celsus, and other the most skilful Physitians of this State, went to Apollo, and said:–“Is it possible, Sire, you that are the Lord of the Liberal Sciences, that this Microcosmos must be deformed, which is so nobly and miraculously framed, for the advantage of a few ignorant people? For not only the wiser sort of men, but even those of an indifferent capacity, who have
conversed but four daies with any quack-salver, know how to penetrate even into the inmost bowels.”
This memorandum of the physitians wrought so much with Apollo that he changed his former resolution, and by Ausonius Gallus bad the philosophers, of the Reformation proceed in delivering their opinions.
Then Solon thus began:–“In my opinion, gentlemen, that which hath put the present age into so great confusion is the cruel hatred and spiteful envy which is seen to reign generally amongst men. All hope then for these present evils is from the infusion of charity, reciprocal affection, and that sanctified love of our neighbour which is God’s chiefest commandment to mankind. We ought, therefore, to employ all our skill in removing the occasions of those hatreds which reign in men’s hearts, which, if we be able to effect, men will agree like other animals, who, by instinct, love their own species, and will, consequently, drive away all hatred and rancor of mind. I have been long thinking, my friends, what the true spring’s head may be of all human hatred, and am still more established in my old opinion that it proceeds from the disparity of means, from the hellish custom of meum and tuum, which, if it were introduced among the beasts, even they would consume and waste themselves with the same hatred wherewith we so much disquiet ourselves, whereas the equality in which they live, and their having nothing of their own, are the blessings which preserve that peace among them which we have cause to envy. Men are likewise creatures, but rational; this world was created by Almighty God, that mankind might live thereon in peace, not that the avaritious should divide it amongst themselves, and should turn what was common into that meum and tuum which hath
put us all into such confusion. So it clearly appears, that the depravation of men’s souls by avarice, ambition, and tyranny, hath occasioned the present inequality, and if it be true, as we all confess it is, that the world is an inheritance left to mankind by one father and mother, from whom we are all descended like brethren, what justice is it that men should not all have a brother’s share? What greater disproportion can be imagined then that this world should be such that some possess more than they can govern, and others have not so much as they could govern? But that which doth infinitely aggravate this disorder is, that usually vertuous men are beggars, whereas wicked and ignorant people are wealthy. From the root of this inequality it then ariseth, that the rich are injurious to the poor, and that the poor envy the rich.
“Now, gentlemen, that I have discovered the malady unto you, it is easie to apply the medicine. To reform the age no better course can be taken then to divide the world anew, allotting an equal part to everyone, and, that we may fall no more upon the like disorders, I advise, that, for the future, all buying and selling be forbidden, to the end that there may be established that parity of goods, the mother of publick peace, which my self and other lawmakers have formerly so much laboured to procure.”
Solon’s opinion suffered a long debate, and though it was not only thought good but necessary by Bias, Periander, and Pittacus, it was gainsaid by all the rest, and Seneca’s opinion prevailed, who with substantial reasons convinced the assembly, that if they should come to a new division of the world, one great disorder would necessarily follow; that too much would fall to the share of fools, and too little to gallant men; and that plague, famine, and war were not
God’s severest scourges, for the affliction of mankind would be to enrich villains.
Solon’s opinion being laid aside, Chilo argued as follows–“Which of you, most wise philosophers, doth not know that the immoderate thirst after gold hath now adaies filled the world with all the mischiefs which we see and feel. What wickedness, how execrable soever it be, will men not willingly commit, if thereby they may accumulate riches? Conclude, therefore, unanimously with me, that no better way can be found out, whereby to extirpate all the vices with which our age is opprest, then for ever to banish out of the world the two infamous mettals, gold and silver, for so the occasion of our present disorders being removed, the evils will necessarily cease.”
Though Chilo’s opinion had a very specious appearance, it would not bear the test, for it was said, that men took so much pains to get gold and silver because they are the measure and counterpoise of all things, and that it was requisite for man to have some mettals, or other thing of price, by which he might purchase what was fitting for him, that if there were no such thing as gold or silver, he would make use of something instead of them, which, rising in value, would be equally coveted, as was plainly seen in the Indies, where cockle-shells were made use of instead of money, and more vallued than either gold or silver. Cleobulus, particularly, being very hot in refuting this opinion, said, with much perturbation of mind: My Masters, banish iron out of the world, for that is the mettal which hath put us into the present condition. Gold and silver serve the purpose ordained by God, whereas iron, which Nature produced for the making of plow-shears, spades, and mattocks, is by the malice and mischief of
men, forged into swords, daggers, and other deadly instruments.”
Though Cleobolus his opinion was judged to be very true, yet it was concluded by the whole Assembly, that, it being impossible to expel iron but by grasping iron and putting on corslets, it was imprudent to multiply mischiefs, and to cure one wound with another. ’Twas, therefore, generally resolved, that the ore of gold and silver should be still kept, but that the refiners should be directed for the future to cleanse them well, and not to take them out of the fire till they had removed from both mettals that vein of turpentine which is the reason why gold and silver stick so close to the fingers even of good and honest men.
Then Pittachus, with extraordinary gravity, thus began:–“The world, most learned philosophers, is fallen into that deplorable condition which we labour to amend because men in these daies have given over travailing by the beaten roadway of vertue, and take the bye-waies of vice, by which, in this corrupted age, they obtain the rewards only due to vertue. Things are brought to such a woful state, that none can get entrance into the palace of dignity, honor, or reward by the gate of merit, but like thieves they climb the windows with ladders of tergeversation, and some, by the force of gifts and favours, have even opened the roof to get thereby into the house of honour. If you would reform this corrupted age, my opinion is, that you should force men to walk by’ the way of vertue, and make severe laws, that whosoever will take the laborsom journey which leads to supreme dignities must travail with the waggon of desert, and with the sure guide of vertue. Consequently, you should order the stopping up of all cross-paths and crooked lanes, discovered by ambitious men and
modern hypocrites, who, multiplying faster then locusts in Africa, have filled the world with contagion. What greater affront can be put upon vertue then to see one of these rascals mounted on the throne of preferment when no man can guess what course he took to reach it? Which makes many think they have got it by the magick of hypocrisy, whereby these magicians do inchant the minds even of wise princes.”
Pittacus his opinion was not only praised, but greatly admired by the whole Assembly, and certainly would have been approved as the most excellent, had not Periander changed their minds by the following discourse: “Gentlemen, the disorder mentioned by Pittacus is very true; but the thing we should chiefly consider is why princes, who are so quick-sighted and interested in their own State-affairs, do not bestow, in these our daies, their great places (as they were wont to do of old) on able and deserving men, by whose service they may receive advantage and reputation, but instead, make use of new fellows raised out of the mire, and without either worth or honor? The opinion of those who say that it is fatal for princes to love carrion is so false, that for the least interest of State they neglect their brethren, and wax cruel even against their own children, so far are they from ruining themselves by blind fondness for their servants. Princes do not act by chance, nor suffer themselves to be guided in their proceedings by their passions; whatsoever they do is out of interest, and those things which to private men appear errors and negligence are accurate politick precepts. All that have written of State-affairs freely confess that the best way to govern kingdoms well is to confer places of highest dignity upon men of great merit and known worth and valour.
[paragraph continues]This is a truth very well known to princes; and though it be clearly seen that they do not observe it, he is a fool that believes they do not out of carelessness. I, who have long studied a point of so great weight, am perswaded that ignorant and raw men, and men of no merit, are preferred before learned and deserving persons, not out of any fault in the prince, but (I blush to say it) through default of the vertuosi. I acknowledge that princes stand in need of learned officers and men of experienced valor, but they likewise need faithful servants. If deserving men and men of valor were loyal in proportion to their capacity, we should not complain of the present disorders in seeing undeserving dwarfs become great giants in four daies’ space, ignorance seated in the chair of vertue, and folly in valor’s tribunal. ’Tis common to all men to overrate their own worth, but the vertuosi do presume so much upon their own good parts that they rather pretend to add to the prince’s reputation by accepting preferments then to receive credit themselves by accepting his munificence. I have known many so foolishly enamoured of their own works that they have thought it a greater happiness for a prince to have an occasion of honouring them then good luck for the other to meet with so liberal a prince. Such men, acknowledging all favours conferred upon them as debts paid to their deserts, prove so ungrateful to their benefactors in their necessity that they are abhorred as perfidious, and are causes of this grievance, that princes seek fidelity instead of more shining accomplishments, that they may be secure of gratitude when they stand in need of it.”
Periander having finished his discourse, Bias spake thus:–“Most wise philosophers, all of you sufficiently know that the reason of the world’s depravity is only because
mankind hath so shamefully abandoned those holy laws which God gave them to observe when he bestowed the whole world upon them for a habitation; nor did he place the French in France, the Spaniards in Spain, the Dutch in Germany, and bound up the fowl fiend in hell for any other reason but the advantage of that general peace which he desired might be observed throughout the whole world. But avarice and ambition (spurs which have alwaies egged on men to greatest wickedness), causing nations to pass into other men’s countries, have caused these evils which we endeavour to amend. If it be true, as we all confess it is, that God hath done nothing in vain, wherefore, think you, hath His Divine Majesty placed the inaccessible Pyrenean mountains between the Spaniards and Italians, the rocky Alpes between the Italians and Germans, the dreadful English Channel between the French and English, the Mediterranean Sea between Africa and Europe? Why hath he made the infinite spacious rivers of Euphrates, Indus, Ganges, and the rest, save only that people might be content to live in their own countries by reason of the difficulties of fords and passages? And the Divine Wisdom, knowing that the harmony of universal peace would be out of tune, and that the world would be filled with incurable diseases, if men should exceed their allotted bounds, added the multitude and variety of languages to all the fore-mentioned impediments, without which all men would speak the same tongue, as all creatures of the same species sing, bark, or bray after one and the same manner. ’Tis then man’s boldness in boaring through mountains, passing over the broadest and most rapid rivers, and even manifestly and rashly hazarding himself and all his substance by crossing the largest
seas in a little wooden vessel, which caused the ancient Romans, not to mention any other nations, to ruine other men’s affairs and discompose their own, not being satisfied with their dominion over the whole of Italy. The true remedy, then, for so great disorder is, first to force every nation to return to their own countreys, and then, to prevent the like confusion in future, I am of opinion that all bridges built for the more commodious passing of rivers should be absolutely broken down, that the ways over the mountains should be quite destroyed, and the mountains made more inaccessible by man’s industry then originally by nature; and I would have all navigation forbidden upon severest penalty, not allowing so much as the least boats to pass over rivers.”
Bias his opinion was regarded with unusual attention, but after being well examined by the best wits of the Assembly, it was found not to be good, for all those philosophers knew that the greatest enmities between nation and nation are not national, but occasioned by cunning princes, who are great masters in the proverb, Divide et impera, and that that perfection of manners being found in all nations joyned together which was not to be had in any particular one, travel is necessary to acquire the complete wisdom which adorned the Great Ulysses. Now, this is a benefit entirely owing to navigation, which is very necessary to mankind, were it onely for that God, having created this world of an almost incomprehensible greatness, having filled it with pretious things, and endowed every province with somewhat of particular navigation, ’tis by that wonderful art reduced to so small an extent that the aromatics of Molucca, though above fifteen thousand miles from Italy, seem to the Italians to grow in their own gardens.
Thus the opinion of Bias was laid aside, when Cleobulus, rising up, and with a low bow, seeming to crave leave to speak, said thus:–“I clearly perceive, most wise gentlemen, that the reformation of the present age, a business of itself very easie, becomes by the diversity and extravagancy of our opinions rather impossible then difficult. And to speak with the freedom which becomes this place and the weight of the business which we have in hand, it grieves my heart to find, even amongst us, that common defect of ambitious and slight wits, who, getting up into publike pulpits, labor more to display their ingenuity by their new and curious conceits, then to profit their auditors by useful precepts and sound doctrines. To raise man out of the foul mire whereinto he has fallen, to what purpose is that dangerous operation of making little windows in their breasts, which Thales advised? And why should we undertake the laborious business of dividing the world into equal partitions according to Solon’s proposition? Or the course mentioned by Chilo, of banishing gold and silver out of the world? Or that of Pittacus, of forcing men to walk in the way of merit and vertue? Or, lastly, that of Bias, that mountains should be raised higher and made more difficult then Nature hath made them, and that the miracle of navigation should be extirpated, the greatest proof of human ingenuity that was ever given? What are these but chimæras and sophistical fancies? The chief consideration which reformers ought to have is, that the remedy proposed be practicable, that it may work its effect soon and secretly, and that it may be chearfully received by those who are to be reformed, for, otherwise, we shall rather deform the world then improve it. There is great reason for this assertion, for that Physitian deserves to be blamed, who should
ordain a medecine for his impatient which is impossible to be used, and which would afflict him more then his disease. Therefore is it the requisite duty of reformers to provide a sure remedy before they take notice of the wound; it is not onely foolishness but impiety to defame men by publishing their vices, and to shew the world that their maladies are grown to such a height that they are past cure. Therefore the Great Tacitus, who always speaks to the purpose if he be rightly understood, doth in this particular advise men. Omittere potius prævalida et adulta vitia, quam hoc assequi, ut palam fieret, quibus flagittiis impares essemus. 1 Those who would fell an old oak are ill-advised if they begin with lopping the top boughs; our true method, gentlemen, is to lay the axe to the root, as I do now, in affirming that the reformation of the present age consists wholly in these few words–REWARD THE GOOD AND PUNISH THE BAD.”
Here Cleobulus held his peace, whose opinion Thales Milesius did with such violence oppose as showed how dangerous a thing it is to offend, though by speaking the truth, those who have the repute to be good and wise, for he with a fiery countenance broke forth into these words:–“Myself, and these gentlemen, most wise Cleobulus, whose opinions you have been pleased to reject as sophistical and meer chimeras, did expect from your rare wisdom that you had brought some new and miraculous Bezoar from the Indies for cure of these present evils, whereas you have propounded that for the easiest remedy which is the hardest and most impossible that could ever be fancied by the prime pretenders to high mysteries, Caius Plinius and Albertus Magnus. There is not any of us, my Cleobulus, that did not know, before you were pleased to put us in
mind of it, that the reformation of the world depends wholly upon rewarding such as are good and punishing the wicked. But give me leave to ask you, who are those that in this our age are perfectly good, and who exactly ill? I would also know whether your eye can discern that which could never yet be found out by any man living, how to know true goodness from that which is counterfeit. Do not you know that modern hypocrites are arrived at that height of cunning that, in this our unhappy age, those are accounted to be cunningest in their wickedness who seem most exactly good, and that really perfect men, who live in sincerity and singleness of soul, with an undisguised and unartificial goodness, are thought to be scandalous and silly? Every one by natural instinct loves those that are good and hates those that are wicked, but princes do it both out of instinct and interest, and when hypocrites or other cunning cheaters are listened unto by great men, while good men are suppressed and undervalued, it is not by the princes’ own election but through the abuse of others. True vertue is known onely and rewarded by God, by whom also vices are discovered and punished. He onely penetrates into the depths of men’s hearts, and we, by means of the window I proposed, might also have looked therein had not the enemy of mankind sown tares in the field where I sowed the grain of good advice. But new laws, how good and wholesome soever, have alwaies been and ever will be withstood by those vitious people who are thereby punished.”
The reasoning of Thales gave mighty satisfaction to the Assembly, and all of them turned their eyes upon Periander, who, thinking himself thereby desired to speak his opinion, began thus: The variety of opinions which I have heard confirms me in my former tenet, that four parts
of five who are sick perish because the physitians know not their disease; such errors are indeed excusable, because men are easily deceived in matters of mere conjecture, but that we, who are judged by Apollo to be the salt of the earth, should not know the evil under which the present age labours, redounds much to our shame, since the malady which we ought to cure lies not hidden in the veins, but is so manifestly known to all men that it self cries aloud for help. And yet, by all the reasons I have heard alledged, methinks you go about to mend the arm when it is the heart that is fistula’d. Gentlemen, since it is Apollo’s pleasure that we should do so, since our reputation stands upon it, and charity to our so afflicted age requires it at our hands, let us, I beseech you, take from our faces the mask of respect, which hath been hitherto worn by us all, and let us speak freely. The fatal error then which has so long confirmed mankind in their unhappiness is this, that while the vices of the great have brought the world into confusion, a reformation of private men’s faults has been thought sufficient to retrieve it. But the falshood, avarice, pride and hypocrisie of private men are not the vices (though I confess them to be hanious evils, which have so much depraved our age, for fitting punishments being by the law provided for every fault and foul action, man is so obedient to the laws and so apprehensive of justice that a few ministers thereof make millions of men tremble, and men live in such peace that the rich cannot, without much danger to themselves, oppress the poor, and every one may walk safely both by day and night with gold in their hand, not onely in the streets but even in the highways. But the world’s most dangerous infirmities are discovered when publique peace is disturbed, and we must all of us confess that the
ambition, avarice, and diabolical engagement which the swords of some powerful princes have usurped over the states of those less powerful is the great scandal of the present times. ’Tis this, gentlemen, which hath filled the world with hatred and suspicion, and hath defiled it with so much blood, that men, who were created by God with humane hearts and civil inclinations, are become ravenous wilde beasts, tearing one another in pieces with all sorts of inhumanity. The ambition of these men hath changed publike peace into most cruel war, vertue into vice, the love which we ought to bear our neighbours into such intestine hatred, that, though lyons appear lyons to their own species, yet the Scotch to the English, the Italians to the Germans, the French to the Spaniards, and every nation to another, appear not men and brethren but creatures of another kind, so that justice being oppressed by the inexplicable ambition of potent men, our race, which was born, brought up, and did live long under the government of wholesome laws, waxing now cruel to itself, lives with the instinct of beasts, ready to oppress the weaker. Theft which is undoubtedly base, is so persecuted by the laws that the stealing of an egg is a capital fault, yet powerful men are so blinded with ambition as to rob another man perfidiously of his whole state, which is not thought to be an execrable mischief but an noble occupation, and onely fit for kings. Tacitus, the master of policy, that he may win the good will of princes, is not ashamed to say, In summa Fortuna id æquis quod vallidius, et sua retinere privatæ domus, de alienis certare, regiam laudem esse. 1 If it be true, as all politicians agree, that people are the prince’s apes, how can those who obey live vertuously quiet when their commanders do so abound
in vice. To bereave a powerful prince of a kingdome is a weighty business which is not to be done by one man alone. To effect so foul an intent they muster a multitude of men, who, that they may not fear the shame of stealing their neighbours’ goods, of murthering men, and of firing cities, change the name of base thief into that of gallant souldier and valiant commander. And that which aggravates this evil is that even good princes are forced to run upon the same rocks to defend their own estates from the ravenousness of these harpyes, and to regain what they have lost, and to revenge themselves of those that have injured them, have in reprizal got possession of their dominions, till, lured on by gain, they betake themselves to the same shameful trade. Thus the method of plundering others of their kingdomes is become a reputable art, and humane wit, made to admire and contemplate the miracles of Heaven and the wonders of the earth, is wholly turned to invent stratagems and to plot treasons, while the hands, which were made to cultivate the earth that feeds us, are employed in the exercise of arms that we may kill one another. This is the wound which hath brought our age to its last gasp, and the true way to remedy it is for princes who use such dealings to amend themselves, and to be content with their own fortunes, for, certainly, it appears very strange that there should be any king who cannot satisfie his ambition with the absolute command over twenty millions of men. Princes, as you all know, were ordained by God on earth for the good of mankind; therefore, it would do well not onely to bridle their ambitious lust after the possessions of others, but I think it necessary that the peculiar engagement which some men pretend their swords have over all estates, be cut up by the root, and I advise above all things that the
greatness of principalities be limited, it being impossible that overgrown kingdoms should be governed with that exact care and justice which is requisite to the people’s good, and which princes are bound to observe. There never was a vast monarchy which was not in a short time lost by the negligence of its governors.”
Here Periander ended, whom Solon thus opposed:–“The true cause, Periander, of our present mischiefs which you have mentioned with such liberty of speech was not omitted by us out of ignorance, but out of prudence. The disorders you speak of began when the world was first peopled, and you know that the most skilful physitian cannot restore sight to one born blind. I mention this because it is much the same thing to cure an infirm eye as to reform antiquated errors. For as the skilful physitian betakes himself to his canters the first day he sees the distempered eye water, but is forced to leave that patient in deserved blindness who neglected to seek a cure till his sight was quite lost, so reformers should oppose abuses with severe remedies the very first hour that they commence, for when vice and corruption have got deep rooting, it is wiselier done to tolerate the evil, then to go about to remedy it out of time, with danger to occasion worse inconveniences, it being more dangerous to cut an old wen then it is misbecoming to let it stand. Moreover, we are here to call to mind the disorders of private men, and to use modesty in so doing, but to be silent in what concerns princes, for they having no superiours in this world it belongs onely to God to reform them, He having given them the prerogative to command, us the glory to obey. Subjects, therefore, should correct the faults of their rulers onely by their own godly living, for the hearts of princes being in the hands
of the Almighty, when people deserve ill from His Divine Majestie he raiseth up Pharoahs against them, and, on the contrary, makes princes tender-hearted, when people by their fidelity and obedience deserve God’s assistance.”
What Solon said was much commended by all the hearers, and then Cato began thus:–“Your opinions, most wise Grecians, are much to be admired, and have abundantly justified the profound esteem which all the Litterati have of you; the vices, corruptions, and ulcerated wounds under which the age languishes could not be better discovered and pointed out. Nor are your opinions, which are full of humane knowledge, gain-said here for that they are not excellent, but for that the malady is so habituated in the veins, and is even so grounded in the bones, that the constitution of mankind is worn out, and their vital vertue yields to the strength of the distemper; in short, the patient spits nothing but blood and putrefaction, and the hair falls from his head. The physitian, gentlemen, hath a hard part to play when the sick man’s maladies are many, and one so far differing from another that cooling medicines, and such as are good for a hot liver, are nought for the stomach, and weaken it too much. Truly this is just our case, for the maladies which molest our age equal the stars of heaven, and are more various than the flowers of the field. I, therefore, think this cure desperate, and that the patient is totally incapable of humane help. We must have recourse to prayers and to other divine helps, which in like case are usually implored from God; this is the true north-star, which, in the greatest difficulties, leads men into the harbour of perfection, for Pauci prudentia, honesta ab deterioribus, utilia ab noxiis discernunt; plures aliorum eventis docentur. 1 If we approve this consideration, we shall
find that when the world was formerly sunk into the same disorders, it was God’s care that did help it by sending a universal deluge to raze mankind, full of abominable and incorrigible vice, from off the world. And, gentlemen, when a man sees the walls of his house all gaping and ruinous, and its foundations so weakened that, in all appearance, it is ready to fall, certainly it is more wisely done to pull down the house and build it anew, then to lose money and time in piecing and patching it. Therefore, since man’s life is so foully depraved with vice that it is past all human power to restore it to its former health, I do with all my heart beseech the Divine Majestie, and counsel you to do the like, that He will again open the cataracts of Heaven, and pour down upon the earth another deluge, with this restriction, that a new Ark may be made, wherein all boys not above twelve years of age may be saved, and that all the female sex, of whatsoever age, be so wholly consumed, that nothing but their unhappy memory may remain. And I beseech the same Divine Majestie that as He hath granted the singular benefit to bees, fishes, beetles, 1 and other animals, to procreate without the female sex, so He will think men worthy of the like favour. I have learnt for certain that as long as there shall be any women in the world men will be wicked.”
It is not to be believed how much Cato’s discourse displeased the whole Assembly, who did all so abhor the harsh conceit of a deluge, that, casting themselves upon the ground, with their hands held up to heaven, they humbly beseeched Almighty God that He would preserve the excellent female sex, that He would keep mankind from any more deluges, or that He would send them on the
earth onely to extirpate those discomposed and wilde wits, those untunable and bloodthirsty souls, those heterodox and phantastick brains, who, being of a depraved judgment, are nothing but mad men, whose ambition was boundless, and pride without end, and that when mankind should, through their demerits, become unworthy of any mercy from the Almighty, He would be pleased to punish them with the scourges of plague, sword, and famine, rather than to deliver mankind unto the good will and pleasure of those insolent and wicked rulers, who, being composed of nothing but blind zeal and diabolical folly, would pull the world in pieces if they could compass the bestial caprices they hourly hatch in their heads.
Cato’s Opinion had this unlucky end, when Seneca thus began:–“Rough dealing is not so greatly requisite in reformation as would seem by many of your discourses, especially when disorders have grown to so great a height; on the contrary, they ought, like wounds which are subject to convulsions, to be Brest with a light hand. It is a scandal to the physitian that the patient should die with his prescriptions in his body, since all men will conclude that the medecine hath done him more harm then his I malady. It is a rash advice to go from one extreme to another, passing by the due medium; man’s nature is not capable of violent mutations, and if it be true that the world hath been falling many thousand years into the present infirmities, he is a very fool who thinks to restore it to health in a few days. Moreover, in reformation the conditions of those who do reform, and the qualities of those that are to be reformed, ought to be exactly considered. We that are the reformers are philosophers and men of learning, and if those to be reformed be onely
stationers, printers, such as sell paper, pens, and ink, or other such things appertaining to learning, we may very well correct their errors, but if we offer to rectify the faults of other trades, we shall commit worse errors, and become more ridiculous then the shoemaker who would judge of colours, and durst censure Apelles his pictures. This, I must say, is a defect frequent in us Litterati, who, for four cujus that we have in our heads, pretend to know all things, and are not aware that when we first swerve from our books we run riot, and say a thousand things from the purpose. I say this, gentlemen, because nothing more obviates reformations then to walk therein in the dark, which happens when reformers are not well acquainted with the vices of those with whom they have to deal. The reason is apparent, for nothing makes men more obstinate in their errors then when they find their reformers ill-informed of their defects. Now, which of us is acquainted with the falsehood of notaries, the prevarications of advocates, the simony of judges, the tricks of attorneys, the cheats of apothecaries, the filching of tailors, the roguery of butchers, and the cheating tricks of a thousand other artificers? And yet all these excesses must be by us corrected, which are so far from our profession that we shall appear like so many blind fellows fumbling to stop a leaky cask which spills the wine on every side. This, gentlemen, is enough to convince you that reformation is only likely to proceed well when marinors discourse of navigation, souldiers of war, shepherds of sheep, and herdsmen of bullocks. It is manifest presumption in us to pretend to know all things, and meer malice to believe that in every occupation there are not three or four honest men. My opinion, therefore, is, that we ought to send for a few of each profession of
known probity and worth, and that every one should correct his own trade; by this means, we shall publish to the world a reformation worthy of ourselves and of the present exigencies.”
Pittachus and Chilo extolled this speech to the skies, and seeing the other philosophers of a contrary sentiment, protested before God and the world that they believed it was impossible to find out a better means for the reformation of mankind, yet did the rest of their companions abhor it more than Cato’s proposition, and with great indignation I told Seneca they much wondered that he, by taking more reformers into their number, should so far dishonour Apollo, who had thought them not only sufficient but excellently fit for that business. It was not wisely advised to begin the general reformation by publishing their own weakness, for all resolutions which detract from the credit of the publishers want that reputation which is the very soul of business. It was strange a man who was the very prime sage of Latin writers should be so lavish of authority, which should be guarded more jealously then women’s honor, since the wisest men did all agree that twenty pound of blood taken from the life-vain was well imployed to gain but one ounce of jurisdiction.
The whole Assembly were mightily afflicted when, by the reputation of Seneca’s opinion, they found smal hopes of effecting the reformation, for they relyed little on Mazzoni, who was but a novice; which though Mazzoni did by many signs perceive, yet, no whit discouraged, he spoke thus:–“It was not for any merit of mine, most wise philosophers, that I was admitted by Apollo into this reverend congregation, but out of his Majestie’s special favour; and I very well know that it better becomes me to use my ears than
my tongue, and certainly I should not dare to open my mouth upon any other occasion; but reformation being the business in hand, and I lately coming where nothing is spoken of but reformation and reformers, I desire that every one may hold their peace, and that I alone may be heard to speak in a business which I am so verst in that I may boast myself to be the onely Euclid of this mathematick. Give me leave, I beseech you, to say that you, in relating your opinions, seem to me to be like those indiscrete physitians who lose time in consulting and disputing without having seen the sick party, or heard from his own mouth the account of his disease. Our business, gentlemen, is to cure the present age of the foul infirmities under which she labours; we have all laboured to find out the reasons of the maladies and its proper remedys, but none of us hath been so wise as to visit the sick party. I therefore advise that we send for the present Age to come hither and be examined, that we interrogate it of its sickness, and that we see the ill-affected parts naked, for this will make the cure easie, which you now think desperate.”
The whole Assembly was so pleased at Mazzoni’s motion, that the reformers immediately commanded the Age to be sent for, who was presently brought in a chair to the Delphick Palace by the four Seasons of the year. He was a man full of years, but of so great and strong a complexion that he seemed likely to live yet many ages, onely he was short breathed, and his voyce was very weak, at which the philosophers, much wondering, asked him what was the reason that he, whose ruddy face was a sign of much natural heat and vigor, and of a good stomach, was nevertheless so feeble? And they told him that a hundred years before his face was so yellow that he seemed to have the
jaundice, yet he spoke freely, and seemed to be stronger then he was now, and since they had sent for him to cure his infirmity, he should speak freely of his griefs.
The Age answered thus:–“Soon after I was born, gentlemen, I fell into these maladies under which I now labour. My face is fresh and ruddy because people have petered it and coloured it with lakes; my sickness resembles the ebbing and flowing of the sea, which alwaies contains the same water, though it rises and fals, with this variation notwithstanding, that when my looks are outwardly good, my malady is more grievous inwardly (as at this present), but when my face looks ill, I am best within. As for the infirmities which torment me, do but take off this gay jacket, wherewith some good people have covered a rotten carcass, and view me naked as I was made by Nature.”
At these words the philosophers stript him in a trice, and found that this miserable wretch was covered all over four inches thick with a scurf of appearances. They caused ten razors to be forthwith brought unto them, and fell to shaving it off with great diligence, but they found it so far eaten into his very bones that in all the huge colossus there was not one inch of good live flesh, at which, being struck with horror and despair, they put on the patient’s cloaths again, and dismist him. Then, convinced that the disease was incurable, they shut themselves up together, and abandoning the case of publike affairs, they resolved to provide for the safety of their own reputations. Mazzoni writ what the rest of the reformers dictated, a Manifesto, wherein they witnessed to the world the great care Apollo ever had of the virtuous lives of his Litterati, and of the welfare of all mankind, also what pains the Reformers had
taken in compiling the General Reformation. Then, coming to particulars, they fixt the prices of sprats, cabbiges, and pumpkins. The Assembly had already underwritten the Reformation when Thales put them in mind that certain higlers, who sold pease and black-cherryes, vinted such small measures that it was a shame not to take order therein. The Assembly thankt Thales for his advertisement, and added to their reformation that the measures should be made greater. Then the palace gates were thrown open, and the General Reformation was read, in the place appointed for such purposes, to the people assembled in great numbers in the market-place, and was so generally applauded by every one that all Parnassus rang with shouts of joy, for the rabble are satisfied with trifles, while men of judgment know that vitia erunt donec homines 1–as long as there be men there will be vices–that men live on earth not indeed well, but as little ill as they may, and that the height of human wisdom lies in the discretion to be content with leaving the world as they found it.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
27:1 Tenneman’s “Manual of the History of Philosophy,” ed. Bohn, p. 207.
28:1 “Hist. of Phil. Trans.,” Morris, i., p. 468.
28:2 Ibid., p. 469.
28:3 Tenneman, p. 257.
29:1 Cousin, “Course of the Hist. of Mod. Phil.,” ii., p. 48.
31:1 “If thou comprehendest not the practices of Kabbalists and the primeval astrologers, God has not made thee for the spagiric, nor has nature elected thee for the operation of Vulcan.”–Paracelsus, “De Tinctura Physicorum.”
31:2 “There is a great difference between the Stone of the Philosophers and the Philosophick Stone. The first is the Subject of Philosophy, considered in the state of its first Preparation, in which it is truly a stone, since it is solid, hard, heavy, brittle, frangible. . . . The Philosophick Stone is the same Stone of the Philosophers, when by the secret magistery it is exalted to the perfection of the third order, transmuting all imperfect metals into pure gold or silver, according to the nature of the ferment adjoined to it.”–“The Hermetical Triumph.”
31:3 The base metals are transmuted into perfect gold by the possessor of the Philosophick Stone, and the Elixir of Life, according to Bernard Trévisan, is the resolution of the same stone into mercurial water, which is also the aurum potabile of the wise.
31:4 Eliphas Lévi, “Dogme et Rituel de la Haute Magie;” “Mysteries of Magic,” pp. 199, 201.
36:1 “I. Ragguagli di Parnasso: or, Advertisements from Parnassus in Two Centuries, with the Politick Touchstone. Put into English by the Right Honourable Henry Earl of Monmouth.” Fol. 1656.
36:2 “Advertisements from Parnassus, Written originally in Italian by the famous Trajano Boccalini. Newly done into English, and adapted to the Present Times.” 3 vols. 8vo. 1704. A poor and paraphrastic rendering.
36:3 “Advices from Parnassus, in Two Centuries, with the Politick Touchstone and an Appendix to it. Written by Trajano Boccalini. Translated by several hands.” London. Fol. 1706. The best as regards style, but less literal than the version by the Earl of Monmouth.
50:1 Tacitus, Lib. 3, Ann.
53:1 Tacitus, Lib. V. Ann.
56:1 Tac., Lib. iv., Ann.
57:1 See Additional Note, No. 3.
63:1 Tac., Lib. iv., Hist.
(ΣΥΝΕΧΕΙΑ ΑΠΟ 19/11/2017)
§236.-Ὁ ρήγας ἔγραψεν τῆς ρήγαινας πολλὰ θυμωένα: «Ἔμαθα τὸ κακὸν τὸ ἐποῖκες τῆς ἠγαπημένης μας κυρὰ Τζουάνας Λ᾿ Αλεμά· διὰ τοῦτον τάσσομαί σου, ὅτι ἀνισῶς καὶ ἔλθω εἰς τὴν Κύπρον με καταυγόδιον βοηθῶντος θεοῦ, θέλω σοῦ ποίσειν τόσον κακὸν ὅπου νὰ τρομάξουν πολλοί διὰ τοῦτον πρὶ νὰ ἔλθω ποῖσε τὸ χειρόττερον τὸ νὰ μπορήσῃς.»
§287.-Καὶ [ἄνταν ἐπερίλαβεν ἡ ρήγαινα τὰ χαρτία,] ἔμήνυσεν τοῦ καπετάνου τῆς Κερυνίας νὰ ἔλθῃ εἰς τὴν Λευκωσίαν, καὶ ἐμηνῦσεν του νὰ φέρῃ καὶ τὴν γεναίκαν του κρυφὰ νὰ τὴν ζητήση τῆς ρήγαινας τὴν ἄνωθεν ταμὲ Τζουάνα νὰ τὴν ἐβγάλῃ ἀπὸ τὴν γούφαν. Καὶ οὕτως ἐγίνετον, καὶ ἐβγάλαν την ἀπὸ τὴν γούφαν, καὶ εἶπαν της: «Ἐμεῖς ἐπήγαμεν εἰς τὴν ρήγαιναν καὶ ἐπαρακαλέσαμέ την [καὶ ἐβγάλεν σε, καὶ εὐχαρίστου της.»] Καὶ ἐπέψαν την εἰς τὴν χώραν. Ἡ ρήγαινα ὥρισεν καὶ ἐφέραν την ὀμπρός της, καὶ ἕρισεν καὶ ἐστρέψαν της ὅ,τι τῆς ἐπῆραν ἀππέσσω της· καὶ εἶπεν της ἡ ρήγαινα: «Ἂν θέλῃς νὰ ᾔμεστεν φίλαινες καὶ νἄχῃς τὴν ἀγάπην μου, ἔμπα εἰς κανέναν μοναστήριν.» Ἡ πγοιὰ κυρὰ Τζουάνα εἶπεν της: «Εἰς τὸν ὁρισμόν σου, κυρά μου· ὅρισ᾿ με εἰς ποῖον μοναστήρι νὰ πάγω.» Καὶ ὥρισέν τη νὰ πάγῃ εἰς τὴν Ἁγίαν Φωτεινήν, ἡ λεγομένη Σάντα Κλέρα. Ἡ ἄνωθεν καβαλλαρία ἐποῖκεν χρόνον ἕναν εἰς τὴν γούφαν τῆς Κερυνίας καὶ εἰς τὸ μοναστήριν, καὶ ἡ ὀμορφία δὲν ἐπαρκατέβην.
§238.-Ἠξεύρετε, ὅτι ὁ αὐτὸς ρὲ Πιὲρ εἶχεν ἄλλη μίαν καύχαν τὴν τάμε Τζίβαν τε Στααντιλίου, γυναῖκαν τοῦ σὶρ Γρινιὲρ Λε Πεντίτ· καὶ διατὶ ἡ ἄνωθεν τάμου Τζίβα ἢτον παντρεμένη δὲν ἠμπόρησεν νὰ τῆς ποίσῃ δισπλαζίριν. Καὶ εἶπεν μοῦ το ἡ πεθθερὰ τοῦ Γεωργίου, ἡ Μαρία, τοῦ Νούζη τοῦ Καλογήρου, τοῦ γερακάρη τοῦ σὶρ Γχαρρὴν τε Ζιπλὲτ εἰς τὸ χωρίον τὴν Γαλάταν, ὅτι ἀγρωνίζετον καὶ ᾿δουλεῦγεν του, καὶ ἔξευρέ το.
§239.-Πάλε νὰ ἔλθωμεν εἰς τὸ ἐτραβενίασεν διὰ τὸ πταῖσμαν τῆς ρήγαινας. Ὁ ἀρχέκακος διάβολος τῆς πορνείας ἐμπῆκεν εἰς τὴν καρδίαν τοῦ μισὲρ Τζουὰν τε Μόρφου τοῦ κούντη τε Ρουχᾶς, καὶ ἐπίασέν τον πολλὴ καὶ μεγάλη ἀγάπη ἀπάνω τῆς ρήγαινας, καὶ ἐποῖκεν πολλοὺς τρόπους καὶ τόσα ἔδωκεν τῶν μαυλιστρίων, ὅτι ἀρχεύτην καὶ ἐτελειώθην, καὶ εὑρέθησαν ἀντάμα· καὶ ἐφανερώθην τὸ πρᾶμαν εἰς ὅλην τὴν χώραν πῶς ἐγίνην τίτοια παρανομία, καὶ οὗλος ὁ λαὸς δὲν έξηγᾶτον ἄλλον, τόσον ὅτι ἐξηγοῦνταν το καὶ τὰ κοπελλία. Τὸ λοιπὸν ἐμάθαν το τ᾿ ἀδελφία τοῦ ρηγὸς καὶ ἐπικράνθησαν πολλά, καὶ ἐννοιάζουνταν πῶς νὰ διαβῇ τὸ μέγαν κακὸν τοῦτον, [διὰ νὰ μηδὲν γεννηθῇ ἄλλον, ὡς γοιὸν ἐγίνην.]
§240.-Μέσα εἰς τοῦτον ἦλθεν ὁ μισὲρ Τζουὰν Βισκούντης ὀμπρός του(ς), τὸν ὥρισεν εἰς τὸ ἔβγα του νὰ παίρνη σκοπὸν τὸ σπίτιν του, καὶ ἀρχέψαν οἱ ἀφέντες νὰ τὸν ἀρωτοῦν περὶ τῆς ἀφορμῆς τῆς κυρᾶς τῆς ρήγαινας, καὶ ἐρωτῆσαν τον ἀνισῶς καὶ εἶνε ἀλήθεια. Καὶ ὁ καλὸς καβαλλάρης εἶπεν τους: [«Ὄχι.»] Καὶ εἶπεν: «Ἀφέντες, τίς ἐμπορεῖ νὰ κρατήσῃ τὰ στόματα τοὺς λᾶς; οἱ ποῖγοι εἶνε ὅτοιμοι νὰ (λα)λοῦν κακὸν διὰ τὸν πασἄναν, καὶ τὸ καλὸν τοὺς ἄλλους νὰ τὸ κρύψουσιν.» Καὶ λαλεῖ πάλε: «Ὁ θεὸς τὸ ξεύρει, ὅτι τὴν ὥραν ὅπου τὸ ἐγροίκησα ἔφτασα νὰ ππέσω χαμαὶ ἐλλιγωμένος, καὶ δὲν ἠξεύρω ἴντα νὰ ποίσω. Ὁ ἀφέντης μου ὁ ρήγας ἔδωκέν μου τὸ βάρος νὰ παίρνω σκοπὸν τὸ τιμημένον του σπίτιν περίτου παρὰ τοὺς ἀδελφούς του.» Τότε λαλοῦν του: «Φίλε, ὁ φανός μας εἶνε νὰ τὸ μάθῃ ἐξ αὑτόνς σου παρὰ ἀπὸ ἄλλον τινάν.» Ὁ καλὸς καβαλλάρης ἐπῆγεν ἔσσω του καὶ ἔγραψεν τοῦ ρηγὸς ἕναν ἄτζαλλον χαρτὶν τὸ ποῖον ἐλάλεν οὕτως:-
§241.-«Τρισεντιμότατέ μου ἀφέντη, ὀπίσω εἰς τὰ ρικουμαντιάσματα εἶμαι κρατούμενος εἰς τὴν ἀφεντίανς σου, νὰ ξεύρῃ ἡ ἀφεντίας σου, ὅτι ἡ τρισυψηλότατή μας κυρὰ ἡ ρήγαινα, ἡ ἁγία σου συμβία, εἶνε καλά, καὶ τ᾿ ἀδελφία σου, καὶ ἔχουν μεγάλην πεθυμίαν ν᾿ ἀξιωθοῦν νὰ σὲ ᾿δοῦσιν. Ἀποὺ τὰ μαντάτα τὰ εἶνε εἰς τὸ νησσίν, καταραμένη νὰ ᾖνε ἡ ὥρα ὅταν έννοιάστηκα νὰ σοῦ γράψω, καὶ τρισκατάρατη ἡ ᾿μέρα ὅπου μὲ ἀφῆκες βιγλάτορον τοῦ σπιτιοῦ σου, νὰ ξυρώσω τὴν καρδιάνς σου νὰ σοῦ ξηγηθῶ τὰ μαντάτα· ὅμως θέλω νὰ τὰ μουλλώσω, καὶ φοβοῦμαι τὴν ἀφεντιάνς σου, μήπως καὶ γροικήσῃς τα ἀπ᾿ ἄλλον, καὶ θέλω κατηγορηθεῖν καὶ θέλω παι- δευτεῖν· διὰ τοῦτον [λαλῶ σου τα,] καὶ παρακαλῶ τὸν θεὸν καὶ τὴν ἀφεντιάνς σου νὰ μὲν πάρῃς δεσδένιον. Ἐξηγηθῆκαν εἰς τὴν χώραν, ὅτι ἐπλάνεσεν τὴν ἀρνάν σου καὶ εὑρέθην μὲ τὸν κλιάρον, καὶ λαλοῦν πῶς ὁ κούντη τε Ρουχᾶς ἔνε εἰς μεγάλην ἀγάπην μὲ τὴν κυράν μας τὴν ρήγαινα, ἀμμὲ φαίνεταί μου καὶ εἶνε ψέματα· καὶ ἂν εἶχα τὴν ἀφεντίαν, ἔθελα ψηλαφήσειν ἀπόθεν καὶ ἀποὺ τίναν ἐβγῆκεν τοῦτος ὁ λόγος καὶ ἔθελα ποίσει νὰ μηδὲν ᾖνε ἀπότορμος τινὰς τίτοιες ἀντροπὲς νὰ ξηγᾶται. Ταπεινὰ σὲ παρακαλῶ τὴν ἀφεντίαν σου διὰ τὸν θεὸν καὶ διὰ τὴν καλὴν ζωὴν τῆς βασιλείας σου. Ἐγράπτη ἐν τῇ πόλει Λευκωσίᾳ ιγʹ δικεβρίου ͵ατξηʹ Χριστοῦ.»
§242.-Ὡς γοιὸν σᾶς ἐξηγήθηκα ὀπίσω τὴν ἀγάπην τὴν εἶχεν ὁ ρήγας μὲ τὴν ρήγαιναν, καὶ διὰ τὴν ἀγάπην τὴν εἶχεν ἐπρουμουτίασέν της ὅπου νὰ εὑρίσκεται νὰ παίρνῃ τὸ ἀποκάμισόν της νὰ τὸ βἁλλῃ τὴ νύκταν εἰς τὴν ἀγγάλην του νὰ κοιμᾶται, καὶ ἐποῖκεν τὸν τζαμπερλάνον του νὰ παίρνῃ πάντα μετά του τὸ ᾿μάτιν τῆς ρέγαινας καὶ νὰ τὸ βάλλουν εἰς τὸ κρεβάτιν του. Εἰ δὲ καὶ τινὰς πῇ, «ἔχοντα καὶ εἶχεν τόσην ἀγάπην, πῶς εἶχεν βʹ καύχες;» τοῦτον ἐποῖκεν το ἀπὸ πολλὴν λουξουρίαν τὴν εἶχεν, ὅτι ἦτον παιδίος ἄνθρωπος.
§243.-Καὶ ἐφέραν τὸ χαρτίν· (τὴν) νύκταν ἐδιάβασεν τὰ σκοτανὰ μαντάτα ὅπου τοῦ ἐφέραν, καὶ παραῦτα ὥρισεν τὸν τζαμπερλάνον καὶ ἐσήκωσεν τὸ ᾿μάτιν τῆς ρήγαινας ἀπὲ τὴν ἀγγάλην του,-ὁ ποῖος ἦτον ὁ Ἰωάννης τῆς Τζάμπρας, καὶ εἶπεν του, πλεῖον μηδὲν τὸ βάλῃ. Τότε ἀναστέναξεν καὶ εἷπεν: «Ἀνάθεμαν τὴν ὥραν καὶ τὴν ἡμέραν ὅπου μοῦ ᾿δῶκαν τὸ χαρτίν· καὶ τοῦτον ἐγίνετον, ὅτι (ὁ) ἥ(λιο)ς ἦτον εἰς τὸν αἰγόκερον ὅταν ἐγράφετον.» Ὁ ρήγας ὡς φρένιμος, τινὸς δὲν ἔδειξεν φανόν, καὶ πολλὰ ἐσφίνγκετον νὰ δείξῃ ἀλεγρέτζαν, [καὶ δὲν ἐμπόρεν.] Θωρῶντα τον οἱ καβαλλάροι τῆς συντρο(φι)ᾶς του, πῶς τὸ πρόσωπόν του ἦτον πολλὰ δημμένον, ἀρωτῆσαν τον καὶ εἶπαν του: «Πέ μας τὸ κρυφόν σου, μήπως καὶ σασῶμεν το, η νὰ μοιραστῇ ἡ πλῆξι σου μετά μας.» Ὁ ρήγας ἀναστέναξεν καὶ εἶπεν: «Ἠγαπημένοι μου φίλοι, παρακαλῶ τὸν θεὸν τιτοίαν μαντατοφοργιὰν νὰ μὲν δοθῇ ποττὲ τοὺς φίλους μου, οὐδὲ τοὺς ἐχθρούς μου, ὅτι πολλὰ πικρὸν καὶ φαρμακερὸν εἶνε, καὶ δὲν ἠπορεῖ νὰ μοιραστῇ, ἀμμὲ γινίσκεται ὡς γοιὸν ἕναν κόμπον εἰς τὴν καρδίαν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου, καὶ οὕτως εἶνε εἰς τὴν καρδιάν μου, καὶ δὲν ἠμπορεῖ τίτοιον μαντάτον νὰ τὸ σάσῃ τινὰς ἄλλος παροὺ ὁ παντοδύναμος θεός. Καὶ ἀγρωνίζω καθολικὰ ὅτι ὁ βασιλεὺς τῶν βασιλευόντων εἶνε ἀγκρισμένος μετά μου, ὅτι δὲν μ᾿ ἐκάνεσεν τὸ ψυσικὸν τὸ μοῦ ἔδωκεν ἀπὸ τοὺς γονεῖς μου, ἀμμὲ ἐγύρεψα νὰ πάρω τὸ δὲν εἶχαν γ-οἱ γονεῖς μου, καὶ γιὰ τοῦτον ἔβαλεν τοὺς φίλους μου νὰ πάρουν βεντέτταν καλλίον παρὰ τοὺς ἐχθρούς μου· [διατὶ λαλεῖ,] φύλαξόν με ἀπὸ κείνους ἁποῦ ἀποθαρῶ, διατὶ ἐκείνους ὅπου δὲν ἀποθαρῶ βλέπομαι.» Καὶ οἱ πτωχοὶ οἱ καβαλλάριδες ἐππέσαν εἰς μεγάλην πλῆξιν, καὶ ἀρωτῆσαν τοὺς δουλευτάδες του ἀνισῶς καὶ ξεύρουν τίποτες εἰς τούτην τὴν ὑπόθεσιν.
§244-Τὸ λοιπὸν θωρῶντα ὁ ρήγας πῶς δὲν εἶχεν πλεῖον δουλείαν εἰς τὴν μεργιὰν τῆς δύσις, καὶ ἐθάρεν ὅτι ἡ ἀγάπη τοῦ σουλτάνου ἐγίνην, ἀποχαιρέτησεν τοὺς ἀφέντες τῆς δύσις καὶ ἐνέβην εἰς τὸ κάτεργόν του καὶ ἦλθεν εἰς τὴν Κύπρον. Καὶ ἐπροσδεκτῆσαν τον ὡς γοιὸν ἦτον τὸ συνήθιν τὸ ρηγάτικον, καὶ ἐποίκασιν ἑορτὴν καὶ χαρὰν ἡμέρες ὀκτώ.
§245.-Τὸ λοιπὸν εἶνε χρῆσι νὰ ἔλθωμεν εἰς τὴν ὑπόθεσιν τοῦ κούντη, τοῦ μισὲρ Τζουὰν τε Μόρφου. Ὅνταν ἦλθεν τὸ μαντάτον εἰς τὴν Κύπρον πῶς ὁ ρήγας ἐτελείωσεν τὲς δουλεῖες του καὶ ἦτον ἕτοιμος νὰ στραφῇ εἰς τὴν Κύπρον, ὁ ἄνωθεν μισὲρ Τζουὰν τε Μόρφου ἐπίασέν τον μεγάλη ἔννοια διὰ τὸ ἔλα τοῦ ρηγός, μήπως καὶ εἶπαν του τὰ μαντάτα οἱ ἀμουροῦζες του διὰ τὸ πεῖσμαν τῆς ρήγαινας· ἔπεψέν τους δύο κομματία παννὶν κοττένον σκαρλάτον, τὸ ἕναν τῆς τάμου Τζουάνας Λ᾿ Ἀλεμὰν καὶ τὸ ἄλλον τῆς τάμου Τζίβας τε Σκαντελίου, ὀξὺν φίνον, καὶ ὀνομίσματα χίλια ἄσπρα τῆς μουτιάσουν νὰ μὲν ποῦν τινὸς τίποτες, οὐδὲ τοῦ ρηγός, ὅμως ἀνὲν καὶ ἄλλον νὰ γροικήσουν νὰ τὸν ἐβγάλουν πταίσθην.] Καὶ οἱ ἀρχόντισσες ἐπρουμουτιάσαν τοῦτο νὰ τὸ ποίσουν· καὶ ἤτζου ἐποίκασιν.
§246.-Ὡς γοιὸν ἔρχετον ὁ ρήγας εἰς τὴν θάλασσαν, ἦρτεν του μία φουρτούνα μεγάλη, καὶ ἐπῆρεν τάμαν, ὅντα νἄρτῃ μὲ τὸ καλὸν εἰς τὴν Κύπρον νὰ γυρέψῃ ὅλα τὰ μοναστήρια τῆς Κώρας νὰ τὰ προσκυνήσῃ.
§247.[Καὶ ἐπέσωσεν μὲ τὸ καλὸν καὶ ἦρτεν εἰς τὴν Λευκωσίαν.]
§248.-[Καὶ ἐπῆγε νὰ προσκυνήσῃ τὰ μοναστήρια· πρῶτα ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὸ μοναστήριν τὴν Σάτα Κλέρα·] καὶ ἔδωκεν τοῦ μισὲρ Τζουάνη Μουστρὴ πολλὰ καρτζὰ καὶ ἐβάσταν μετά του. Καὶ ἐπῆρεν ὁρισμὸν ἀπὸ τὴν γουμένην καὶ ἐνέβησαν εἰς τὰ κελλί(α) τῶν καλογρῃῶν. Ἀφὸν ἐπροσκύνησεν καὶ ἐνέβην καὶ εἰς τὸ κελλὶν τῆς τάμου Τζουάνας Λ᾿ Ἀλεμάν, [καὶ ἐκείνη] ἐγονάτισεν νὰ φιλήση τὸ χέριν τοῦ ρηγός, καὶ ὁ ρήγας ἐπερίλαβέν την μὲ μεγάλην ἀγάπην, καὶ ὤρισεν καὶ ἐδῶκαν της ὀνομίσματα αʹ γρόσια ἀργυρᾶ· καὶ ὥρισέν την μοναῦτα νὰ ρίψῃ τὸ μοναχικὸν σχῆμα καὶ νὰ πάγῃ ἔσσω του, γιατὶ χωρὶς τὸ θέλημάν της τὰ ἐφόρησεν διὰ τὸν ὁρισμὸν τῆς ρήγαινας. Ὁ ρήγας ἐπῆγεν καὶ ἐπροσκύνησεν εἰς τὰ μοναστήρια καὶ ἔδωκεν εἰς πᾶσα ἕναν διὰ τὴν ψυχήν του.
§249.-Καὶ ἦλθεν εἰς τὴν αὐλὴν ὁ ρήγας, καὶ ἕρισεν καὶ ἐφέραν ὀμπρός του τὲς δύο ἀρχόντισσες κα ἔβαλέν τες εἰς μίαν τζάπραν καὶ ἐκεῖ ἐξετάσεν τες κρυφὰ διὰ τὸν λόγον ὅπου εἶπαν· καὶ ὡς γοιὸν ἐπροείπαμεν ἦτον καὶ (οἱ) δύο ἀρχόντισσες συμβουλεμένες. Καὶ ἐξέτασεν πᾶσα μίαν χώρια, καὶ ἐδῶκαν καὶ οἱ δύο ἕναν λόγον εἰς τὸν ρήγα, καὶ δὲν ἠμπόρησε νὰ μάθῃ τίποτες ἀπὸ ᾿ξ αὑτὴς τους, ἀμμὲ εἶπαν του: «Ἤξευρε πῶς ἡ ρήγαινα ἐσκανταλίστην μὲ τὸν μισὲρ Τζουὰν Βισκούντην, καὶ ἐτίμασέν τον, καὶ ἐκακώθην της, καὶ γιὰ τοῦτον ἔγραψεν τῆς βασιλείας σου τὸ χαρτίν.» Πάλε εἶπαν: «Ἀφέντη, ξεύρεις πῶς [ἡμεῖς οὐδὲν εἴμεστεν εἰς τὴν γράσαν σου, ἀμμὲ ἐκεῖ ὅπου ὁ κούντη τε Ρουχᾶς ἔνι καλός σου δοῦλος, πῶς νὰ τὸν συκοφαντήσωμεν ἄδικα;»] Τὸ λοιπὸν ἔμεινεν ὁ ρήγας κονμπωμένος ἀπὸ τὲς δύο ἀρχόντισσες, καὶ ᾿θάρησεν πῶς τοῦ εἴπασιν ἀλήθεια. Καὶ εἰς τούτην τὴν λογὴν ἐπέρασεν ἡ αὐτὴ δουλεία, ὡς γοιὸν ἐγὼ ἔμαθα ἀπὸ τὴν κυρὰ Λόζε τὴν βυζαστρίαν τῶν κόρων τοῦ σὶρ Σιμοὺν τ᾿ Ἀντιότζε, ἡ ποία ἦτον παροίκισσα τοῦ κούντη τε Ρουχᾶς, καὶ κείνη ἔξευρέν το καθολικά, ἡ μάνα τοῦ Ἰωάννη τοῦ Μαγείρου.
§250.-Ταραχὴ ἁποῦ ᾿γίνην οἱ Γενουβίσοι μὲ τοὺς Βενετίκους. Ἐχρονίας ͵ατξηʹ Χριστοῦ ἕνας Γενουβίσος ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὸν ποῦντον τῆς Ἀμοχούστου νὰ ἐμπῇ εἰς τὸ καράβιν του, καὶ δὲν ηὗρεν βάρκαν γενουβίσικην· ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὸ καράβιν τοὺς Βενετίκους καὶ ᾿παρακάλεσέν τους νὰ τὸν σηκώσουν νὰ τὸν βάλουν εἰς τὸ καράβιν του τὸ γενοβίσικον· καὶ δὲν ἐθελῆσα νὰ τὸν σηκώσουν, καὶ κεῖνος ἐτιμάσεν τους πολλά. Τότες οἱ ἀνθρῶποι τῆς βάρκας οἱ Βενετίκοι ἐδέραν τὸν Γενουβίσον· καὶ ὁ Γενουβίσος ἐπῆγεν καὶ ἀγκάλεσεν εἰς τὸν παλίον τους ὀνόματι Τζουὰν τε Μολής, καὶ δὲν ἐθέλησε νὰ τοῦ ἀκροθῇ· καὶ κεῖνος μοναῦτα ἐξηγήθην το τοὺ(ς) συντρόφους του. Οἱ Γενουβίσοι ἦτον ἀγγωμένοι, ἦλθαν εἰς τὴν λότζαν τοὺς Βενετίκους καὶ ηὗραν τὰ ραβδία τοὺς ραβδούχους τοὺς Βενετίκους καὶ ἦτον καὶ ζωγραφισμένα, καὶ ἐτζακίσαν τα ἀπάνω τους μικρὰ μικρά, καὶ ἐσύραν σπαθία καὶ ἐτρέξαν τοὺς Βενετίκους, οἱ ποῖγοι ἐφύγαν καὶ ἐνέβησαν εἰς τὰ δώματα τῆς λότζας τους, καὶ ἐστάθησαν καὶ ἐδιαφεντεύγουνταν. Τότες οἱ πραματευτάδες οἱ Γενουβίσοι ἐνέβησαν εἰς τὰ δώματα τοῦ κουμερκίου, ὅπου εἶνε κοντὰ τῆς λόντζας, καὶ ἐσύραν ἡ μία μερία τῆς ἄλλης πέτρες, καὶ οἱ Βενετίκοι ἐσύραν τοὺς Γενουβίσους βερετουνίες. Καὶ ἀπὸ τοὺς Γενουβίσους ἦλθε μία πετρία καὶ ἔδωκεν τοῦ παλίου εἰς τὸ χέριν καὶ ἐλαβῶσεν τον. Ὅταν ὁ καπετάνος ἔνωσεν τὴν ταραχήν, μοναῦτα ἐπέψαν τὸν βισκούντην καὶ πολλοὺς λᾶς τῶν ἀρμάτων νὰ κοψουν τὸ σκάνταλον, καὶ νὰ βλεπίσουν καὶ τὴν χώραν. Καὶ πάλε ἐδῶκαν τοῦ παλίου ἄλλην πετρίαν εἰς τὸ πρόσωπον, καὶ μοναῦτα ἀφῆκεν τα κ᾿ ἔφυγεν ἀπὸ τὴν λότζαν του καὶ ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὸ σπίτιν του καὶ ἐπαράγγειλεν μοναῦτα οὕλους τοὺς πραματευτάδες ν᾿ ἀρματωθοῦν. Τὸ ὅμοιον ἐποῖκεν καὶ ὁ ποδεστᾶς τοὺς Γενουβίσους, ὀνόματι μισὲρ Τουάρδον Φαλαμονίγγον. Ἀπάνω εἰς τὴν αὐτὴν ταραχὴν ἐνέβησαν μεσόν τους οἱ μοναχοὶ τῶν Λατίνων καὶ ἐκατηγορῆσαν τους καὶ ὁ ἐμπαλὴς τῆς Ἀμοχο(ύ)στου, καὶ τόσον τοὺς ἐκατηγορῆσαν καὶ ἐποῖκαν τους ἀγάπην.
§251.-Πάλε ἂς ἔρτωμεν εἰς τὸν ρήγα· ὅτι δὲν ἐπίστευσεν τὰ λογία τῶν δύο κυράδων, ἐζήτησεν [τοὺς ἄρχοντες (τῆς) βουλῆς του, ὀ πρῶτον τοὺς ἀδελφούς του καὶ τοὺς προδέλοιπους παρούνιδες, ψουμάτους, λιζίους καὶ συμβουλατόρους,] καὶ ἐκάτζεν τους καθόρδινα. Ἐζήτησεν ὁ ρήγας εἰς τὴν αὐτὴν τάξιν: «Ἄρχοντες κατὰ θεὸν τιμημένοι, φίλοι καὶ ἀδελφοί, εἰς αὑτόν σας ἀγγαλίω τὸν πόνον καὶ τὸ καμίνιν καὶ καμὸν τῆς καρδιᾶς μου· τὸ λοιπονὶν δὲν εἶνε νὰ τὸ θαυμαστῇ τινὰς τοῦτον τὸ ᾿γίνην, ὅτι ἀξ αὔτόν μου ἐγίνην, καὶ δὲν καταγνώννω ἄλλον παροὺ τὸν ἐμαυτόν μου. Ὁ θεὸς ἐποῖκεν με ρήγαν τῆς Κύπρου καὶ ἐκράξε με καὶ τῶν Ἱεροσολύμων, καὶ πρὶν τὸν καιρὸν ἀνάγκαζα καὶ ἐπεθύμου νὰ κτήσω τὸ ρηγάτον Ἱεροσολύμων, καὶ τοῦτον ἀνάγκαζα νὰ τὸ τελειώσω διὰ καλὸν καὶ τιμὴν δικής σας καὶ ἐδικήν μου· καὶ ὁ θεὸς ἐπαιδεῦσεν με διὰ νὰ τζακκίσῃ τὴν σουπερπίαν μου. Νἆχεν ποίσειν ὁ θεὸς νἆχἄσταιν ρήγας τῆς Κύπρου τιμημένος καὶ ὄχι ρήγας ὅλου τοῦ κόσμου καὶ νἆμαι ἀντροπιασμένος ὅτι εἰς τὸν αἰγόκερον ζῴδιον ἐγεννήθηκα, καὶ εἰς τὸν πλανήτην [τὸν καιρὸν] ἐστέφθηκα. Τὸ λοιπόν, ἄρχοντες, ὡδὰ σᾶς παρακαλῶ καὶ ἐσυμπιάσα σας νὰ σᾶς εἰπῶ τὸ ἀγκάλεμάν μου, καὶ ἔνι πολλὰ βαρὺν καὶ δυσβάστακτον, καὶ ἀντροπιασμένον καὶ ἄπρεπο νὰ σᾶς τὸ ξηγηθῶ. Ἐγὼ ξεύρω πῶς ὂλοι εἶσθε σοφοί· ᾿δέτε τὴν ζήτησίν μου, καὶ δικαιώσατέ με ὡς γοιὸν νὰ σᾶς δώσῃ χάριν καὶ γνῶσιν τὸ ἅγιον πνεῦμα.»
§252.-Τότε ὅλοι ἕναν στόμαν εἶπαν εἰς αὑτόν του: «Ἀφέντη, ἀνὲν καὶ τινὰς εἶχεν φαντασίαν ἢ πάθος, καὶ ἐφάνην του, καὶ εἶπαν σου λόγια ἄπρεπα εἰς τὴν βασιλ(εί)αν σου, ὡς φρόνιμος μηδὲν τὰ πιστεύσης, ὅτι πολλὰ λαλοῦν εἰς τὸν κόσμον, ὅτι δὲν εἶνε εὐαγγέλια.
§253.-Καὶ ὁ ρήγας ἐγέμωσεν χολὴν καὶ λαλεῖ τους: «Ἀκανεῖ· ἀνὲν καὶ μὲν δὲν μοῦ πιστεύγετε, νάτε τὸ χαρτὶν τοῦτον τὸ μοῦ ἐπέψαν εἰς τὴν Φραγγίαν, ἀπὸ ᾿ξ αὑτῆς του νὰ γρωνίσετε τὸ πρᾶμαν πῶς ἐδιάβην. Ὅμως ζητῶ σας βουλὴν ἴντα σᾶς φαίνεται νὰ ποίσω· ν᾿ ἀφήσω τὴν γυναῖκαν μου καὶ νὰ τὴν πέψω τοῦ κυροῦ της, νὰ σκοτώσω τὸ σκύλλον τὸν ψωριάρην ὅπου ᾿πόντισεν τὸ μαργαριτάριν, οὒ νὰ μηδὲν δείξω φανὸν τίποτες; Πέτε μου τὸν φανόν σας, καὶ προυμουτιάζω σας νὰ μὲν ποίσω ἄλλον, παρὰ τὸ νὰ μὲ βουλεύσετε. Μηδὲν πῆτε, πλανῶ σας μὲ λογία, ἀμμὲ καλὰ ἐμπορῶ νὰ πάρω βεντέτταν. ᾿[Αγρωνίζετε, ὅτι δὲν ἐδόθην εἰς ὅλους τοὺς ἀνθρώπους, καὶ γιὰ τοῦτον λαλῶ· πολλοὶ ἀνθρῶποι, πολλὲς γνῶσες· [διατὶ ἀποῦ παλαιὸν καιρὸν ἔχομεν ἀθρώπους τῆς βουλῆς γερόντων πειρασμένους], καὶ ἀπὸ ᾿ξ αὑτῆς τους εὑρίσκεται ἡ ἀλήθεια· ἀκομὴ κακὰ ἐμποροῦν οἱ ἀνθρῶποι εὔκολα νὰ κρίνουν τὸν ἐμαυτόν τους, οὐδὲ οἱ γιατροὶ νὰ ἰατρεύσουν τὲς γεναῖκες τους καὶ τὰ παιδιά τους, ὅτι πᾶσα πόνον κρινίσκουν τον ἄπρεπα ἀπὸ τὴν πολλὴν ἀγάπην ἁποῦ τοὺς ἀγαποῦσιν· ἀμμὲ ξένοι ἰατροὶ πρέπει νὰ ἰατρεύσουν τῶν ἰατρῶν τὰς γεναῖκας καὶ τὰ παιδιά τους, καὶ ξένοι κριτάδες νὰ κρίνουν τὰ ἀγγαλέματα τῶν ἄλλων, ὅτι λείπει τους ὁ θυμὸς καὶ ἡ λύπη, καὶ δὲν θωροῦν τὸ πρᾶμαν ὡς γοιὸν εἶνε. Διὰ τοῦτον ἔφερα τὴν ἀφεντιάν σας, καὶ βάλλω τὸ ἀγγάλεμάν μου ὀμπρός σας, καὶ [ὡς γοιὸ νὰ σᾶς φανῇ κρίνετέ το!»]
§254.-Ἀποκρίθησαν τοῦ ρηγὸς καὶ λαλοῦν του: «Ἀφέντη μας, έγροικήσαμεν τὸ ἀγγάλεμάν σου καὶ τὴν ἐζήτησίν σου καὶ τὴν παραπόνησίν σου, καὶ ελπίζομεν εὶς τὴν χάριν τοῦ θεοῦ νὰ μᾶς διδάξῃ ὡς γοιὸ νά τοῦ ἀρέσῃ καὶ τῆς βασιλείας σου. Τὸ λοιπόν, ἂν ὁρίσῃς, ἀπεχώρισε ὀλλίγον ἀποὺ ᾿ξ αὑτῆς μας διὰ νὰ συμβουλευτοῦμεν, καὶ νὰ [εγκλέξωμεν τὸ καλλίτερον τὸ νὰ θελήσῃ ὁ θεός,] καὶ νὰ σοῦ ποῦμεν τὸ μέλλει νὰ γινῇ.» Γροικῶντα ὁ ρήγας, ὅτοιμα ἐπῆγεν.
§255.-Καὶ οἱ καβαλλάριδες πολλὰ ἐκοπιάσαν εἰς τὴν μέσην τους· μερτικὸν ἐλαλοῦσαν νὰ σκοτώσουν τὸν κούντην· καὶ ἐλαλοῦσαν:«Ἂν[τὸ ποὶσωμεν] φανερώννεται τὸ πρᾶμαν, καὶ θέλει εἶσταιν πολλὴ ἀντροπὴ εἰς αὑτόν μας». Ἄλλοι ᾿λαλοῦσαν: «Καλὰ εἴπετε· διὰ τρεῖς ἀφορμὲς ἔνι νὰ φύγωμεν [θυμοῦ, μίσου, καὶ φάμας.] Ἀμμὲ ἀνισῶς καὶ ποῦμεν νὰ σκοτώσωμεν τὴν ρήγαινα, ξεύρετε πῶς εἶνε ἀποὺ μεγάλην γενίαν τῶν Καταλάνων, καὶ εἶνε ἀνελεήμονες, καὶ θέλουν πεῖν πῶς διὰ μισιτείαν τὸ ᾿ποίκαμεν, καὶ θέλουν ἀρματώσειν καὶ θέλουν ἔρτειν καὶ θέλουν μᾶς ξηλοθρεύσειν καὶ μᾶς καὶ τὸ δικόν μας. Πάλε ἀνὲν καὶ σκοτώσωμεν τὸν κούντην, ὁ λόγος φανερώννει τὸ γεννόμενον, καὶ ἄλλοι πιστεύγουν καὶ ἄλλοι δὲν πιστεύγουν, καὶ τότε ὅλοι θέλουν τὸ πιστεύσειν, ὅτι διὰ τούτην τὴν ἀφορμὴν ἐσκοτῶσαν τὸν κούντην· καὶ ὁ λόγος θέλει ἐβγεῖν εἰς ὅλην τὴν οἰκουμένην· καὶ ὁ ρήγας μας, [ὅποὖνε ἕναν κορμὶν δικόν μας, ὁ ποῖος εἶνε ἕναν ὄρνεον, ] καὶ ἐμεῖς τὰ πτερά του, ὡς γοιὸν ἡ ὄρνιθα δὲν φελᾷ χωρὶς τὰ πτερά της, ἤτζου καὶ ὁ ρήγας μοναχός του δὲν φελᾷ χωρίς μας, οὐδ᾿ ἐμεῖς φελοῦμεν χωρίς του· τὸ λοιπονὶν θέλουν μᾶς κατη(γ)ορήσειν, καὶ ὁ λόγος θέλει στερεωθεῖν. Φαίνεταί μας νὰ γροικήσωμεν καλλιώττερα καὶ νὰ χώσωμεν τὸν λόγον· ἀληθῶς, ὅτι ὁ ρήγας ἔδειξέν μας τὴν γραφὴν ἁποῦ τοῦ ἔπεψεν ὁ σὶρ Τζουάν ὁ Βισκούντης εἰς τὴν Φρανγκίαν, ἂς ποῦμεν ὅλοι πῶς εἶνε ψεματάρης, καὶ νὰ τὸν ἐβγάλωμεν ἀπό τὴν ἐλευθερίαν [τοῦ λιζάτου, ] καὶ ἂς τὸν άφήσωμεν εἰς τὴν ἐλεημοσύνην τοῦ ρηγός, ὡς ἐκεῖνος ὁποῦ ἐσυκοφάντησεν τὴν ρήγαιναν καὶ ἀνγκρίστην μὲ τὴν βασιλείαν της διὰ τίποτε ταραχὴν ὁποῦ ἐσκανταλίστην μετά του τὸν διαβόντα καιρόν· καὶ ἀνὲν καὶ γλυτώσῃ, δόξα σοι ὁ θεός, εἰ δὲ μή, ἂς πάγῃ εἰς τὸ καλόν· παρκάτω κακὸν εἶνε ν᾿ ἀπεθάνῃ ἕνας καβαλλάρης, παρὰ νὰ [μᾶς κρατήσουν ἐφίορκους, ] διατὶ δὲν ἐβλεπίσαμεν τὴν ρήγαινάν μας· εἰ δὲ καὶ οὐδὲν τὴν ἐβλεπίσαμεν, ἅνταν ἐγροικήσαμε τὰ ἄπρεπα μαντάτα, διατὶ δὲν ἐποίκαμεν βεντέτταν [ τοῦ ἀφέντη μας ἀπὸ] τὸν ἐχθρόν του καὶ παράβουλον τῆς τιμῆς του. Καὶ εἰς τούτην τὴν λογὴν εἴ τις νὰ τὸ γροικήσῃ τοῦτον, θέλει ἀποπιστευθεῖν ἀποὺ τὴν κακὴν ἀκουήν, καὶ θέλουν πεῖν ὅλοι πῶς, ῾ο καβαλλάρης εἶπεν ψέματα, καὶ ᾿δέτε καὶ πῶς ἔδωκεν ἄδικον θάνατον,᾿ καὶ ὁ λόγος θέλει παύσειν· τοῦτον τὸν λόγον ὅλοι θέλουν πιστεύσειν.»
§256.-Καὶ τἄπισα ἐκράξαν τὸν ρήγαν καὶ ἐποῖκαν του τὴν συντυχίαν : «Ἀφέντη, διὰ τὴὺσυντυχιάς σου ἐγροικήσαμεν τὸ ἀγγάλεμάν σου, καὶ τὸ χαρτὶν τὸ μᾶς ἔδωκες, καὶ πολλὰ ἐσυντύχαμεν μεσόν μας, καὶ ἐγυρέψαμεν καὶ ἀπὸ μίαν μερίαν καὶ ἀπὸ ἄλλην νὰ εὕρωμεν ὠχρὰν τ(ίποτ)ες ἀπ᾿ ὅ,τι λαλεῖ τὸ χαρτίν· τὸ λοιπὸν ἀγρώνισε, ὅτι εἴ τι λαλεῖ τὸ χαρτίν, εἶνε ψέματα, καὶ ὅτις τὸ ἔγραψεν ψέματα λαλεῖ εἰς τὸν λαιμόν του, καὶ ὅλοι μας ἀντάμα καὶ πασαεῖς μας μερία εἴμεστεν ἕτοιμοι νὰ τὸ προβιάσωμεν ἀπὸ τὸ κορμίν μας εἰς τὸ δικόν του πῶς εἶνε ψεματάρης, καὶ τοῦτον ἐποῖκεν τον διατὶ ἐμάλλωσεν ἡ κυρὰ ἡ ρήγαινα μετά του, καὶ ὁ αὐτὸς καβαλλάρης ἐπεθυμῆσε την καὶ δὲν τὸν ἐβάσταξεν, καὶ ὠργίστην του, καὶ διὰ τοῦτον σοῦ ἔπεψεν τὸ χαρτίν· εἰ δὲ ἡ κυρά μας ἡ ρήγαινα εἶνε καλή, καὶ ἁγία, καὶ εὐγενικὴ καὶ τιμημένη. Καὶ ἀθύμου τὸ μᾶς ἐπρουμουτίασες νὰ ποίσῃς τὸ νὰ σὲ βουλεύσωμε.»
§257.-Καὶ εἰς τούτην τὴν λογὴν ἐβγάλαν [τὸν ρήγαν δικαιωμένον, ] καὶ τὸν καβαλλάρην ψεματάρην. Καὶ εἰς τοῦτον ἐστάθην ὁ ρήγας εὐχαρισ(τη)μένος, καὶ ἐζήτησεν τὸν καβαλλάρην εἰς τὸ πεγέριν του, καὶ ἔδωκέν τους καὶ τὸ χαρτὶν εἰς τὰς χεῖρας τους· οἱ καβαλλάριδες ἐβγάλαν τον ἀπὸ τὴν συντροφιάν τους, καὶ ἐγράψαν τον διὰ παράβουλον, ὡς ἐκεῖνος ὅπου ἔβγαλεν τῆς ρήγαινας κακὴν ἀκουγήν. Καὶ ὅνταν ἐγροίκησεν τὰ λογία τους, καὶ ἔθελεν ἔχειν καὶ τῶν δύο κυράδων τῶν καύχων του τὰ λογία τους, ἐπίστευσεν καὶ ἔπεψεν τὸ μεσανυκτικὸν εἰς τὸ σπίτιν τοῦ καβαλλάρη καὶ ἔκραξάν τον ἀπὸ τὸν ρήγα. Ο καλὸς καβαλλάρης ἦτον εἰς τὸ κρεβάτιν του, καὶ μοναῦτα ἐντύθην καὶ ἐκαβαλλίκευσεν νὰ πάγῃ εἰς τὴν αὐλὴν τοῦ ρηγός· καὶ ἔξω ἐστέκουνταν τουρκοποῦλλοι καὶ Αρμένιδες καὶ λαὸς πολλὺς τῶν ἀρμάτων, καὶ παίρνουν τον μοναῦτα, καὶ πάγει εἰς τὴν Κερυνίαν, καὶ ἐβάλαν τον εἰς τὴν γούφαν τοῦ Σκουτελλᾶ. Κ᾿ ἐκεῖ ἐποῖκεν [κἄποσον καιρόν].
§258.-Καὶ τἄπισα ἔρχεται ἕνας [ἀφέντης] ἀποὺ τὴν δύσιν νὰ πάγῃ εἰς τὴν Ἱερουσαλὴμ νὰ προσκυνήσῃ· τὸν ποῖον ἐπαρακαλέσαν τον οἱ συνγκενάδες τοῦ σὶρ Τζὰν Βι- σκούντη νὰ τὸν ζητήσῃ ἀπὸ τὸν ρήγα, ὡς γοιὸν εἶνε συνήθιν τοὺς ἀφέντες· καὶ ἐπαρακάλεσεν τὸν ρήγα νὰ τὸν ἐβγάλῃ ἀπὸ τὴν γούφαν, καὶ ἐπρουμουτίασέν του ὁ ρήγας νὰ τὸν ἐβγάλῃ. Καὶ [ὅνταν ὁ κούντης ὁ ξενικὸς ἐπῆγεν,] τότες ὥρισεν (καὶ) ἐβγάλαν τον ἀπὸ τὴν γούφαν τῆς Κερυνίας, καὶ ἔπεψέν τον εἰς τὸν Λιόνταν καὶ ἐβάλαν τον εἰς τὴν γούφαν, καὶ ἔμεινεν χωρὶς φᾶν ὥς που καὶ ἀπόθανεν. Ὁ αὐτὸς κα- βαλλάρης ἂν ἦτο νὰ σᾶς εἴπουν ποτάπος ἀντρειωμένος ἦτον, καὶ εἰ(ς) τζοῦστες καὶ πᾶσα ἄρματον ἦτον πολλὰ βαλέντε ἀντρ(ει)ωμένος· τάμε ὁ θεὸς νὰ τοῦ συγχωρήσῃ.
§259.-Τὸ λοιπὸν μὲ ὅλον τοῦτον ὁ ρήγας δὲν εὑρέθην πλερωμένος, καὶ δὲν ἧτον τόσον ἀνήξευρος, ξεύροντα τὸ πρᾶμαν πῶς ἐγίνετον· ἄρχεψεν καὶ ἀντροπίαζεν τὲς γεναῖκες τοὺς ἐχθρούς του ὅπου ἐσμίκτησαν νὰ ποίσουν τὴν ἀντροπήν. [Πολλὰ έννοιάζουνταν οἱ λᾶς νὰ ποίσουν,] ἀμμὲ τὸ νὰ ᾿δοῦν, ὅτι κάτινες ἀρκέψασιν καὶ ἦτο νὰ τοὺς νώσουν, ἐσύρτησαν ἀπὸ τὸ κακόν· καὶ διατὶ δὲν εὑρέθην τινὰς νὰ τὸ ξηλώσῃ, ἀμμὲ ὅλοι ἐσμίκτησαν, διὰ τοῦτον ἐμίσησεν οὕλους, καὶ ἄρχεψε νὰ τοὺς πλερώσῃ ὅλους τὸν πασἄναν κατὰ τὸ τοῦ ἐδούλευσεν· ὅτι οἱ Γενουβίσοι λαλοῦν, «ὅπου νὰ σοῦ ποίσῃ, ποῖσε του, καὶ ἀνισῶς καὶ δὲν ἐφτάσῃς νὰ τὸ ποίσῃς, μὲν τὸν λησμονήσῃς.» Καὶ εἰς κοντολογίαν ἀντροπίασεν οὗλες τὲς κυράδες τῆς Λευκωσίας, τὲς ποῖες εἶνε μεγάλη ἀντροπὴὺ νὰ τὲς ἀνοματίσωμεν. Οἱ αφέντες ἐμεῖναν ὅλοι ἐννοιασμένοι καὶ κακά ἐθωροῦσαν τὸν ρήγα· καὶ ὁ ἐχθρὸς ὧδε ηὗρεν τόπον, καὶ ἔσπειρεν τὸν σπόρον του, τουτἔστιν ἔχθραν, εἰς τιτοίαν λογήν, ὅτι ἔστρεψέν του μέγαν διάφορος, τὰ ρ᾿ χίλια.
§260.-Τὸ πρᾶγμαν ἐδιάβαινεν ἡμέραν πρὸς ἡμέραν ὥς που καὶ ᾿βρέθην ὁ καιρὸς έπιτήδειος. Φανερὸν ἐγίνην εἰς τ᾿ αὐτία τοῦ ρηγὸς πῶς ἦτον μισισμένος ἀποὺ ὅλους τοὺς καβαλάριδες, καὶ ἐκεῖνος ἐμισῆσεν τους πολλά· ἦτον πολλὰ ἐννοιασμένος μήπως καὶ ἀποθάνῃ καὶ δὲν πλερωθῇ ἀπὸ τοὺς ἐχθρούς του, ἢ πὰς καὶ ἀπογβάλουν τον, ὡς γοιὸν ἐποῖκαν τοῦ ρὲ Χαρρή. Τὸ λοιπὸν ἕρισεν καὶ ἐκτίσαν του ἕναν πύρ- γον, καὶ [ἀπάνω ἔκτισεν ναὸν ὀνόματι] Μιζερικορδία· [τὴν δὲ φυλακὴν κάτω, τουτἔστιν τὸν πύργον, έκράξεν τον] Μαργαρίτα· καὶ ἐτελείωσέν τον καὶ ἦτον πολλὰ δυνατός, καὶ ἤθελε νὰ τὸ χαντακώσῃ ἀππέξω· Καὶ ἐννοιάστη νὰ ποίσῃ κάλεσμαν μέγαν [μετὰ τὸ χαντάκωμα,] καὶ νὰ σωρευτοῦν ὅλοι οἱ ἄρχοντες οἱ μεγάλοι καὶ παρούνιδες, καὶ νὰ τοὺς ποίσῃ φᾶν, καὶ τότες νὰ φυλακίσῃ τοὺς ἀδελφούς του εἰς τὸν πύργον καὶ μερτικὸν ἀπὸ τοὺς καβαλλάριδες ὁποῦ ἐφοβᾶτον, διὰ νὰ μηδὲν σαστοῦν εἰς τὴν μέσην τους καὶ [ἀδικήσουν τον·] καὶ πολομῶντα τοῦτον θέλ᾿ εἶσταιν χωρὶς φόβον ὅλην του τὴν ζωήν. Καλὰ τὸ ἐννοιάστην, ἀμμὲ κακὰ ἐγίνετον. Ὅνταν ἦρτεν ἡ σαρακοστή, τὴν ἁγίαν ἑβδομάδαν ἔκραξεν τὸν πνευματικὸν νὰ τὸν ξηγορεύσῃ, ὀνόματι φρὲ Τζάκε τοῦ Σὰν Τομένικου, καὶ εἰς τὴν ξηγόρευσιν εἶπεν τοῦ το, τὴν ἔννοιαν [τῆς Μαργα(ρ)ίτας.] Ὁ αὐτὸς πνευματικὸς ἦτον καὶ τοῦ πρίντζη, καὶ ἔκραξέν τον καὶ ὁ πρίντζης νὰ τὸν ξηγορεύσῃ· καὶ ἅνταν τὸν ἐξηγόρευσεν, εἶπεν του οὕλην τὴν ἔννοιαν τοῦ ρηγός· καὶ ἐβλέπετον ὁ πρίντζης νὰ μπῇ εἰς τὴν Μαργ(αρ)ίταν, καὶ οὐδὲ τὸν ἀδελφόν του τὸν Τζάκον ἄφιννε νὰ ἐμπῇ.
§261.-Τὸ λοιπὸν εἶνε καιρὸς νὰ θερίσωμεν τὰ στραχιδία τῆς ἔχθρας, καὶ νὰ σᾶς πῶ τὴν κακίαν τὴν εἶχεν ὁ ρήγας μὲ τοὺς καβαλλάριδές του καὶ κεῖνοι μετά του. [Τῇ ηʹ ἰουναρίου] μηνὸς ἡμέρα κυριακῇ, ατξηʹ Χριστοῦ, εὑρισκομένου τοῦ ρηγὸς εἰς τὸ Ἀκάκιν, ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὸ κυνήγιν, καὶ κοντὰ τοῦ Ἀκακίου ἔχει ἕναν χωρίον μικρόν ὀνόματι Μένικον, καὶ ἦτο τοῦ σὶρ Χαρρὴν τε Ζιπλέτ, ὁ ποῖος καβαλλάρης εἶχεν ἕναν υἱὸν μονογενὴν ὀνόματι Τζακέ, καὶ μίαν κόρην ὀνόματι Μαρία, ἡ ποία ἦτον χήρα, καὶ μίαν πορνικὴν ὀνόματι Λόζε· ὁ αὐτὸς καβαλλάρης ἦτον βισκούντης τῆς χώρας, καὶ πολλὰ ἀγάπαν τὰ κυνηγία, καὶ ἐπαράγγειλεν καὶ ἐφέραν του ἀπὸ τὴν Τουρκίαν μίαν ζυγὴν σκυλλία λαγωνικὰ πολλὰ ὄμορφα· καὶ οὗλοι οἱ καβαλλάριδες ὅλοι κακὰ μετὰ Καρᾶς ἐκλουθοῦσαν τοῦ ρηγός, ὡς γοιὸν ἡ τάξις τοὺς καβαλλάριδες καὶ νὰ παραδιαβάζουν εἰς τὰ κυνηγία. Εὑρισκόμενος ὁ ρήγας εἰς τὸ κυνήγιν, ὁ σκυλλομάνγγος τοῦ αὐτοῦ βισκούντη ἐστρέφετον ἀπὸ τὸ κυνήγιν, καὶ ἐδιάβην ἀπὸ τὴν αὐλὴν τοῦ Ακακίου νὰ πάγῃ εἰς τὸ Μένικον, καὶ εἶχεν τὰ δύο σκυλλία τὰ ὄμορφα, καὶ εἶχεν τα χαρίσει τοῦ Τζάκου τοῦ υἱοῦ του (ὁ) ἄνωθεν σὶρ Χαρρή.
§262.-Ὁ κούντης τῆς Τρίπολις ὁ σὶρ Πιὲρ τοῦ Λουζανία ὁ γνήσιος υἱὸς τοῦ ρηγός, καὶ ἔμπλασεν τοῦ σκυλλομάνγκου καὶ ἀρώτησέν τον: «Τίνος εἶνε τοῦτα τὰ λαγωνικά;» Καὶ εἶπεν του : «Ἀφέντη, εἶνε τοῦ ἀφέντη μου τοῦ Τζάκου τε Ζιπλέτ.» Καὶ ἐψηλαφῆσεν τα καλὰ καὶ εἶδεν τα, καὶ ὡς [παιδίος καὶ ἀφέντης] ἐπεθύμησέν τα, καὶ λαλεῖ τοῦ σκυλλομάνγκου: «Δός μου τὰ σκυλλία τοῦτα!» Καὶ ὁ σκυλ- λομάνγκος λαλεῖ του: «Δὲν τορμῶ, διατὶ φοβοῦμαι τὸν ἀφέντην μου· ζήτα τα τοῦ ἀφέντη μου, καὶ κεῖνος θέλει σοῦ τὰ δώσει.» Καὶ [ὁ ἀφέντης ὁ κούντης] ἐμήνυσεν τοῦ Τζάκου τε Ζιπλὲτ νὰ τοῦ τὰ πέψῃ, καὶ νὰ τὸν πλερώσῃ κουρτέσικα. Απολογήθην του καὶ εἶπεν του: «Ἄμε, πὲ τοῦ ἀφέντη σου, πῶς ἐκεῖνον τὸ δὲν ἔχει ἀγαπᾷ νὰ τὸ ἔχη, ἐγὼ δὲν ἀγαπῶ ἐκεῖνον τὸ δὲν ἔχω· διὰ τοῦτον ἂς μοῦ συμπαθίσῃ, καὶ δὲν τοῦ τὰ διδῶ.» Ὁ ἄνωθεν Τζάκες ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὸν ἀφέντην του, καὶ εἶπεν του πῶς ὁ κούντης ἐμήνυσεν διὰ τὰ σκυλλία, καὶ πῶς τὸν ἀπολόγιασεν, καὶ ἀγκρίστην ὁ αὐτὸς σὶρ Χαρρὴν διὰ τὴν ἀπολογίαν τοῦ υἱοῦ του.
§263.-Ἐρχομένου τοῦ βασιλιώτη εἰς τὸν κούντην, καὶ εἶπεν του τὴν ἀπολογίαν τοῦ σὶρ Τζὰκες, ὁ ἀφέντης ὁ κούντης ὁ νέος ἐδάκρυσεν πολλά, καὶ ἔπιασεν τὸ κλάμαν· καὶ ὡς γοιὸν ἔκλαιγεν, [δόξου καὶ τὸν ρήγα] καὶ ἐνέβην τὴν πόρταν τοῦ π(α)λατίου, καὶ ἐγροίκησεν τοῦ υἱοῦ του πῶς ἔκλαιγεν καὶ ἀρώτησέν τον: «Γιὰ τίντα ἀφορφμὴν κλαίεις;» Καὶ ὁ υἱός του ἀποὺ τὸ πολλὺν κλάμαν δὲν ἠμπόρησε νὰ τοῦ ἀπολογηθῇ. Καὶ ὁ ρήγας ἦλθεν πρὸς τὸν καβαλλάρην τὸν μάστρον του καὶ λαλεῖ του: «Τίντα ἔχει ὁ υἱός μου καὶ κλαίγει ἤτζου;» Καὶ ὁ καβαλλάρης λαλεῖ τοῦ ρηγός: «Ἀφέντη, ὁ Τζάκο τε Ζιπλὲτ ἔχει ἕναν ζευγάριν σκυλλία λαγωνικὰ ὀμορφώτατα, καὶ ἐδιάβην ὁ σκυλλομάνγκος του ἀππὦδε, καὶ εἶδεν τα ὁ ἀφέντης μου καὶ πολλὰ τὰ ἐπεθύμησεν, καὶ ἐζητῆσεν τα τοῦ σκυλλομάνγκου καὶ δὲν τοῦ τὰ ἔδωκεν· ἐμηνῦσεν το τοῦ σὶρ Τζάκες μὲ τὸν βαχλιώτην του, καὶ δὲν ἄκουσε νὰ τοῦ τὰ δώσῃ, καὶ ἔστρεψέν τον, καὶ γιὰ τοῦτον παραπονᾶται καὶ κλαίγει.» Γροικῶντα ὁ ρήγας ἐθυμώθην πολλά, καὶ ἡ κακία ἐπιντώθην, καὶ λαλεῖ: «Μὲ μέγαν δίκῃον ἔνι ὁ ἠγαπημένος μου υἱὸς κακόκαρδος!» Καὶ στρέφεται πρὸς τὸν υἱόν του καὶ λαλεῖ του : «Παιδίν μου, [ἔπληξες!] ἐγὼ νὰ μηνύσω τώρα τοῦ κυροῦ του νὰ μοῦ τὰ πέψῃ.»
§264.-Καὶ ἔπεψεν ὁ ρήγας ἕναν φρόνιμον καβαλλάρην εἰς τὸν σὶρ Χαρρὴν τε Ζιπλὲτ νὰ τοῦ ζητήσῃ τὰ σκυλλία διὰ τὸν υἱόν του τὸν κούντην τῆς Τρίπολις καὶ νὰ τὸν πλερώσῃ τὸ ξάζουν. Ὁ καβαλλάρης, μωραγάπητος τοῦ υἱοῦ του, καὶ άγάπαν καὶ τὰ κυνηγία, καὶ νὰ φανερώσῃ καὶ ὁ καιρὸς τὴν κακίαν τὴν εἶχαν οἱ ἀφέντες μὲ τὸν ρήγαν, δὲν ἐννοιάστην πόση ζημία καὶ κίντυνος ὅπου μέλλει νὰ τοῦ ἔλθῃ διὰ τόσην μικρὴν ἀποσκότισιν, ὅτι οἱ σκύλλοι εἶνε ὀλλιγόζωτοι καὶ δὲν ἔχουν ζωὴν ὅσον ςʹ χρόνους καὶ ψοφοῦσιν, εἰ δὲ ὁ θυμὸς τοῦ ἀφέντη πολομᾶ πολλὴν ζημίαν εἰς ρέντες, σπιτία καὶ ἕτερα, καὶ ἄλλους ἐμπάζει καὶ ἄλλους κατεβάζει, καὶ πολλοὺς ξηκληρώννει τους ἀποὺ τὰ ἀγαθά τους· ἀποτόλμησεν καὶ εἶπεν τοῦ καβαλλάρη ἁποῦ ἔπεψεν ὁ ρήγας: «Ἄμε, πὲ τοῦ ρηγὸς ἀπὸ ᾿ξ αὑτῆς μου, πῶς ἐκεῖνος θέλει τα διὰ τὸν υἱόν του διὰ τὸ ἀπλαζίριν του, μηδὲν πλήξῃ καὶ ἀρωστήσῃ, καὶ ἐμέναν ψηφᾷ με ὡς γοιὸν κτηνόν, καὶ φονιὰν τοῦ παιδίου μου! ὡς γοιὸν ἐκεῖνος θέλει νὰ θεραπεύσῃ τὸ παιδίν του, ἤτζου καὶ ἐγὼ τὸ παιδίν μου, καὶ στιμιάζει με ὡς γοιὸν πελλόν, νὰ βγάλω τὸ ἀπλαζίριν τοῦ παιδίου μου, καὶ νὰ τὸ δώσω τοῦ παιδίου του· τὰ ποῖα λαγωνικὰ εἶνε δικά του, καὶ ἀνὲν καὶ πάρω τα ἀποὺ τὰ χέρια του θέλει κακοψυχήσει, καὶ φόρτζι νὰ πεθάνῃ· καὶ γιὰ τοῦτον μὴ κάκων᾿μου νὰ τὸ ποίσω· ἀμμέ ἡ Τουρκία κοντά μας εἶνε, καὶ γ-οἱ πραματευτάδες ἐμπαίννουν καὶ κατεβαίννουν, καὶ ἂς δώσῃ λόγον καὶ νὰ τοῦ φέρουν ὅσα θέλει, καὶ ὄχι νὰ πάρῃ τὰ δικά τους ἄλλους, διατὶ θέλω τα διὰ τὸ ἀπλαζίριν μου καὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ μου.» Ὁ καβαλλάρης λαλεῖ του: «Ἀφέντη, βλέπε ὅτι ξεύρεις πῶς ἐμεῖς ἔχομεν νόμον νὰ ᾔμεστεν κρατούμενοι ἕνας τοῦ ἄλλου, καὶ τούτη ἡ ἀπολογία δὲν εἶνε καλὴ πρὸς τὸν ἀφέντην τὸν ρήγαν, καὶ ἀνισῶς καὶ πῶ του τοῦτα τὰ λογία χωρὶς κώλυσιν θέλεις κιντυνεύσει, καὶ ἴδες ἐσού!» Ἐκεῖνος λαλεῖ τοῦ καβαλλάρη: «Ἂν ἦτον μόδος νὰ τοῦ δώκαμεν ὅ,τι καὶ ἂν ἔχωμεν, δὲν ἔχει εὐκαρισ(τ)ίαν, διατὶ μισᾷ μας, καὶ ἂς ποίσῃ το χειρόττερον ὅπου νὰ μπορήσῃ.» Ὁ καβαλλάρης ἔστρεψεν τὸν ἀντίλογον πολλά κουρτέσικα εἰς τὸν ρήγα ὅσον ἐμπόρησεν.
§265.-Γροικῶντα τοῦτον ὁ ρήγας καὶ θωρῶντα τὴν χοντροσύνην του, ἐθυμώθην· μοναῦτα ἐκείνην τὴν ὥραν ἔταξεν τὸν σὶρ Χαρρὴν νὰ πάγῃ μὲ τ᾿ἄλογά του καὶ μὲ τ᾿ἄρματά του εἰς τὴν ἐβλέπισιν τῆς Πάφου, καὶ ἔπεψεν καὶ ᾿σιδέρωσεν καὶ τὸν υἱὸν του τὸν Τζάκες καὶ πέμπει τον μὲ μίαν τζάππαν εἰς τὸ χέριν του νὰ σγάφῃ εἰς τὸ χαντάκιν εἰς τὴν Μαργαρίταν, ἤγουν εἰς τὴν Μιτζιρικορδίαν, μὲ τοὺς ἀργάτες ὅπου ἐπολομοῦσαν δουλείαν. Ἀκομὴ ἔπεψε νὰ πάρη τὴν κόρην του τὴν Μαρία τε Τζιπλὲτ νὰ τὴν ἁρμάσῃ μὲ τὸν Καμοὺς τὸν Ράφτην, ἡ ποία ἐχήρευσεν ἀπὲ τὸν σὶρ Γὴν τὸν Βερνήν· ὁ ποῖος Καμοὺς ἦτον χαρκωματᾶς καὶ ἦτον καὶ βαχλιώτης τοῦ σὶ(ρ) Ραμοὺν Παπή. Ἡ καβαλλαρία ἦτον φρένιμη, θωρῶντα τὸ σκάνταλον τοῦ ρηγὸς καὶ τοῦ πατρός της, έφοβήθην, λαλῶντα πῶς εἰς κακὸν θέλημαν θέλει τελειωθεῖν ἡ δουλεία, ἀφῆκεν τα καὶ ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὸ μοναστήριν ἁποῦ δὲν τὲς ἐθῶρεν τινάς, εἰς την Σάντα Κλέραν, νὰ μείνῃ ὥστη νὰ παύσῃ ἡ κακία· ἐγροίκησεν πῶς θέλει νὰ τὴν αρμάσῃ, εξέ- βην καὶ ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὴν Ταρτούζαν ε(ἰ)ς τὸ μοναστήριν, καὶ ἐκεῖ ἐχώστην. Ὁ ρήγας ἔβγαλεν τὸν πατέραν της ἀπὸ τὸ βισκουντάτον καὶ ἔβαλεν τὸν σὶρ Τζουὰν τε Βιλίες.
§266.-Καὶ τῇ κυριακῇ τῇ ιε᾿ μηνὸς ἰαννουαρίου τξη᾿ Χριστοῦ, ἦλθεν ὁ ρήγας ἀπὸ τ᾿ Ἀκάκιν εἰς τὴν Λευκωσίαν καὶ ἐγροίκησεν πῶς δὲν εὑρέθην ἡ καβαλλαρία, καὶ ἐγύρε(υ)σέν την ἀκριβά, καὶ ἔπεψεν δυναστικῶς καὶ ἔβγαλέν την ἀπὸ τὸ μοναστήριν, καὶ ἔβαλέν την εἰς τὸ κριτήριον, καὶ ἔπεψέν την τοῦ βισκούντη νὰ τὴν μαρτυρίσῃ, ὥς ποῦ νὰ ᾿μολογήσῃ τίς τῆς ἐπαράγκειλεν νὰ πάγῃ εἰς τὸ μοναστήρι νὰ χωστῇ. Εἶπεν τοῦ βισκούντη: «Ἀφέντη, θέλω νὰ ποίσω καλὸν διὰ τὴν ψυχήν μου, καὶ ξηκληρώννω τὸν ἀφέντην μου τὸν ρήγαν μὲ τὸ τουέριν μου καὶ ἂς τὸ πάρῃ εἰς τὸν ὁρισμόν του.» Ὁ ρήγας ὥρισεν νὰ τὴν μαρτυρίσουν, καὶ τόσον τὴν ἐμαρτυρίσαν ὅτι ἐτηγανίσαν καὶ τὰ πόδιά της. Ἡ πτωχὴ ἡ ἀρχόντισσα δὲν ἐλάλεν ἄλλον παρού: «Θεέ, κρίσιν!»
§267.-Καὶ θωρῶντα οἱ ἀφέντες ἐλαλοῦσαν: «Τοῦτα ἐγδεχούμεστα νὰ θωροῦμεν ἀπὦδε καὶ ὀμπρὸς εἰς τὰς κόρες μας καὶ εἰς τοὺς υἱούς μας, καὶ εἰς τὰς κυράδες τὲς χῆρες!» Καὶ πολλὰ ἐδιαφεντεύγετον ἡ ἀρχόντισσα, καὶ ὁ ρήγας δὲν εἶχεν λύπησιν. Καὶ εἰς τὸ ὕστερον ὁ αὐτὸς σὶρ Τζουὰν τε Νεβιλίες ἑρμάστην την, διότι ἦτον καὶ κεῖνος χηράτος.
§268.Πάλε ἐγέννησεν ὁ διάβολος ἄλλον· καὶ ἐγύρεψεν ὁ ρήγας νὰ πάρῃ βουλὴν τίντα νὰ ποίσῃ τοῦ σὶρ Χαρρὴν τε Ζιπλέτ, ὅτι ἀπὸ τὸν θυμόν του πρὶ νὰ βγῇ νὰ πάγη εἰς τὸ τάμαν του, ἔπεψεν καὶ ἔβαλέν τον εἰς τὴν φυλακὴν τοὺς κλέπτες, χωρὶς μεγάλην αὐλήν, καὶ τὸν Τζάκον καὶ τὴν ἀδελφήν του τὴν τάμε Μαρία τε Τζιπλέτ. Καὶ ὅνταν ἐζήτησεν βουλήν, εἶπαν του οἱ παρούνιδες: «Ἄμε ὀλλίγον ἀποὺ ʹξ αὑτόν μας διὰ νὰ συντύχωμεν μεσόν μας, διὰ νὰ σοῦ στρέψωμεν ρεσπόσταν.» Καὶ θωρῶντα οἱ ἀφέντες τὸν ρήγαν γεμάτον κακοσύνην καὶ ὀργήν, ἐπῆγεν ἐξωμέρου· θεωρῶντα οἱ καβαλλάριδες πῶς ἔβαλεν τὸ χέριν του ἀπάνω τοὺς λιζίους χωρὶς δίκαιον ἄπρεπα, ὅλοι ἀντάμα ἀνακατωθῆκαν καὶ ἐθυμώθησαν, καὶ εἴπασιν: «Μίαν φορὰν ἐφανερώθην ἡ κακία τοῦ ἀφέντη μας μετά μας!» Καὶ ἀρχέψαν ὅτοιμα νὰ μελε- τήσουν ἄλλον, καὶ τὸ ἐγίνην ἀφῆκαν το.
§269.-Καὶ ὅλοι οἱ καβαλλάριδες σηκώννουνται εἰς τοὺς δύο ἀδελφοὺς τοῦ ρηγὸς καὶ λαλοῦν τους: Ἀφέντοι, ξεύ-, ρετε πῶς καὶ ἡμεῖς εἴμεστεν ἕτοιμοι τοῦ ρηγὸς καὶ κεῖνος ἐμᾶς, καὶ εἴμεστεν κρατούμενοι μὲ ὅρκον τοῦ ρηγὸς καὶ ὁ ρήγας ἐμᾶς, καὶ ἐμεῖς ἕνας πρὸς τὸν ἄλλον· τὸ λοιπόν, ἀφέντοι, τὴν τάξιν τὴν ἐποῖκεν ὁ ρήγας μὲ τὸν σὶρ Χαρρὴν τε Ζιπλὲτ καὶ μὲ τὰ παιδιά του, παράνομα τὸ ἐποῖκεν καὶ ἄδικα, ὅτι ἔπεψέν τον εἰς τὴν Πάφον, καὶ πρὶ νὰ πάγῃ ἐφυλάκισέν τον, χωρὶς τὴν αὐλήν του, καὶ τὸ παιδίν του καὶ τὴν κόρην του, καθὼς ἄνωθεν δηλοῖ, ὅτι ἦτον ἀνθρῶποι του· καὶ μὲ δίκαίον δὲν ἐδύνετον νὰ βάλῃ χέριν ἀπάνω τους, χωρὶς τοὺς αὐθέντες τῆς βουλῆς του. Εἰς τοῦτον ἀγρωνίζομεν ὅτι εἶνε ᾿φίορκος, ἐπειδὴὺἔμοσε νὰ κρατῇ τὲς ἀσίζες καὶ νόμους στερεωμένα· ἐμεῖς εἴμεσθεν κρατούμενοι νὰ διαφεντέψωμεν τοὺς ὁμοίο(υ)ς μας!» Τότε [εἶπαν τοῦ ρηγός,] καὶ λαλεῖ του ὁ ἀδελφός του ὁ πρίντζης: «Ἀφέντη, φαίνεταί μας ὅτι μὲ δίκαιον ἐποῖκες τοὺς λιζιούς σου ἐκεῖνον τὸ ἐποῖκες χωρὶς νὰ τὸ δώσῃς τῆς μεγάλης σου αὐλῆς καὶ νὰ τὸ γροικήσουν καὶ νὰ τὸ κρίνουν, καὶ πάγεις κατὰ πρόσωπα τοὺς νόμους καὶ τῶν ἀσίζων καθὼς ἔμοσες εἰς τὸ στέψιμόνς σου, ὅτι εἶνε ὅμοιοί σου εἰς τὸν ὅρκον τους.»
§270.-Γροικῶντα τοῦτον ὁ ρήγας ἐθυμώθην καὶ συντυχάννει του ἄσχημα καὶ χοντρὰ λογία, καὶ ὁ πρίντζης ἐμούλλωσεν, καὶ [ὁ μικρὸς ἀδελφὸς] εἶπεν τοῦ ρηγός: «Ἀφέντη, εἶσαι πολλὰ θυμωμένος, καὶ ἐσκοτίσθ(ησ)αν οἱ ἀφθαλμοί σου καὶ δὲν θωρεῖς τὸ πρᾶμαν πῶς πάγει· παρακαλοῦμέν σε ὡς ἀφέντης μας νὰ στραφῇς μὲ γλυκὺν βλέμμαν εἰς αὑτῆς μας, κατὰ τὰς παλαιὰς ἀσίζες, συνήθια, καὶ κουστούμια τοῦ αὐτοῦ ἐντίμου ρηγάτου.» Ὁ ρήγας ἀποστρίγκισέν του καὶ ἐτίμασέν τον καὶ κεῖνον καὶ τὴν γεναῖκαν του, καὶ εἶπεν του πολλὰ ἄσχημα λογία. Καὶ ὁ δαίμων ἐχαίρετον· καὶ ἐτίμασεν καὶ ἀντροπίασεν ὅλους τοὺς καβαλλάριδες.
§27Ι.-Ἐκεῖ ἄρχεψεν τὸ δεντρὸν τῆς μισιτείας. Θωρῶντα τόσον θυμωμένον τὸν ρήγα, επῆραν ὁρισμὸν νὰ πᾶσιν, καὶ εἶπαν του: «Ἀφέντη, μηδὲν ἔχῃς ἔννοιαν, καὶ ἀπόψε, θέλομεν τὰ καταμασήσειν καὶ θέλομεν φέρειν καὶ τὲς ἀσίζες, ἀνισῶς καὶ εὕρωμεν καὶ κανέναν κεφάλιν περὶ τούτου, καὶ θέλομεν τὸ φέρειν τῆς ἀφεντιᾶς σου.» Ὁ ρήγας ἐταπεινώθην καὶ ἐκοίμισεν τὸν θυμόν του, καὶ λαλεῖ τους: «Βάλετέ το εἰς γράψιμον καὶ φερτέ μου το αὔριον ὀμπρός μου νὰ τὸ ᾿δῶ.» Τότε ἐπήγασιν, καὶ ἦτον πολλὰ θυμωμένοι καὶ ἀνγκρισμένοι ἀπὲ τὰ ἄπρεπα λογία τοῦ ρηγὸς καὶ ἀντροπὴν ὁποῦ τοὺς ἐπολόμαν ἔμπροσθεν τοὺς παρκάτω ἀνθρώπους· καὶ ἐπῆραν ὁρισμὸν καὶ ἐξέβησαν ἀπὸ ᾿μπρός του. Ἅνταν ἐκατέβησαν τ᾿ ἀδελφία τοῦ ρηγὸς νὰ καβαλλικεύσουν, ἀκλουθῆσαν τους πολλὺς λαὸς ἀπὸ τοὺς καβαλλάριδες καὶ ἐκατέβησαν ὡς κάτω ᾿ς τὸ περρούνιν τῆς καθολικῆς σκάλας ὅπου καβαλλικεύγουν· ἐκεῖ ἀννοῖξαν τὸ στόμαν τους καὶ εἶπαν τῶν ἀδελφίων τοῦ ρηγός: «Εὐχαριστοῦμεν τοῦ θεοῦ, ὅτι ἤτζου σᾶς ἐστιμίασεν ὁ ἀδελφός σας ὡς γοιὸν χωργιάτες, καὶ ἀνισῶς καὶ δὲν θέλετε νὰ τὸν ἀλλάξετε, ὁ θεὸς νὰ ποίσῃ κρίσιν, καὶ [ἡ ἁμαρτία εἶνε] ἀπάνω σας καὶ ἀπάνω τῶν παιδίων σας.»
§272.-Καὶ μετὰ τὸ καβαλλίκεμαν, ἐποῖκαν δῆμαν καὶ ὅρκον καὶ σασμὸν μεσόν τους, καὶ ἐδῶκαν λόγον ν᾿ ἀγρυπνίσουν ἐκείνην ὅλην τὴν νύκταν, τίντα μέλλει νὰ γινῇ μὲ τὸν ρήγαν, διὰ νὰ τοὺς φοβηθῇ καὶ νὰ τοὺς κρατῇ εἰς τὸ πρῶτον τους συνήθιν, καὶ ν᾿ ἀποβγοῦν καὶ ἀπὸ τὴν αντροπὴν ὁποῦ τοὺς ἐπολόμαν ὅλους καὶ πασανοῦ καθημέρα· καὶ πάλε ἐμόσα νὰ μηδὲν χωρισθοῦν μεσόν τους [ὡς αὔρι,] καὶ μὲν ἀλλάξουν τὸ θέλημάν τους, καὶ εἶπαν: «Ἅρχοντες, εἴδετε πῶς ὁ ρήγας ἐτζάκκισεν τοὺς ὅρκους τοὺς εἶχεν μεσόν του καὶ μεσόν μας! Ἐπειδὴ ᾿τιμάζει τοὺς ἀδελφούς τους ὡς γοιὸν τοὺς φαρράσιδές του, τίντα ᾿ννοιάζεσθε καὶ μᾶς θέλει-ν ποίσειν; Διὰ τοῦτον ἐμεῖς εἴμεστεν ἐβγαρμένοι ἀπὸ τὸ δῆμμαν τοῦ ὅρκου ὅπου ἐποίκαμεν μεσόν του καὶ μεσόν ἐπειδὴὺ τόσον ἐσουπερπιάστην ἀφ᾿ ὃν ἦλθεν ἀπὸ τὴν Φρανγκίαν, καὶ ἐτζάκκισεν καὶ ἀντροπίασεν τὸν ὅρκον του ἀποὺ τὴν μεγάλην μισητείαν ἁποῦ μᾶς μισᾶ· προυμουτιαζόμεν σας, ἄλλον τόσον εἶνε μισισμένος ἀποὺ ᾿ξ αὑτῆς μας!» Ὁ πρίντζης καὶ ὁ κοντοσταύλης ἐφάνουν(τάν) τους καλὸν τὰ λογία τοὺς καβαλλάριδες καὶ ἐστερεῶσαν τα μὲ τὸν ὅρκον τους.
§273.-Καὶ ἅνταν ἐβγῆκαν ἀπὸ τὴν αὐλὴν τὴν ρηγάτικην, ὁ μισὲρ Τζουὰν Μουστρής, τὸν ἐψήλωσεν ὁ ρήγας καὶ ό ἀμιράλλης τὸν ἔκτισεν, καὶ ἀγάπαν τον πολλά, ὁ ποῖος ἦτον φρόνιμος καβαλλάρης, ἐννοιάστην πῶς τὸ τέλος τοῦτον τὸ ἀρχεύτην, ὁ ρήγας εὔκολα δὲν ᾿ταιργιάζει τούτην τὴν ταραχήν· ἐλυπήθην πολλὰ καὶ [ἐβουλήθην μὲ ἔννοια] νὰ βάλῃ σκοπὸν νὰ γιατρεύσῃ τούτην τὴν πληγήν, ὅτι τὰ νήματα τῆς τέχνης ἦτον ἄκλωστα· καὶ λαλεῖ τοῦ ρηγός: «Ἀφέντη μου, ἐλεμονήθου με, καὶ τίποτε θέλω ν᾿ ἀθθυμίσω τὴν ἀφεντίαν σου, καὶ γροικῆσε μου, καὶ ἀνίσως δὲν τὸ πῶ ὡς γοιὸν πρέπει, ἡ ἀφεντιά σου ὅπου σοῦ ἐχάρισεν ὁ θεὸς τὸν νοῦν καθαρὸν θέλεις ἀκροθεῖν τὴν ὑπόθεσιν, καὶ δὲν θέλουν εἶσταιν χαμένα· παρακαλῶ σε, μηδὲν μοῦ ὀργισθῇς εἰς κανέναν λόγον ἁποῦ νὰ πῶ ἄπρεπον.» Ὁ ρήγας εἶπεν του: «Πέ, καὶ μὲν φοβηθῇς.» Λαλεῖ του: «Ἀφέντη μου, ἀποὺ πολλοὺς σοφοὺς ἤκουσα, ἀπὸ παλαιὰν ταραχὴν καὶ μάχην γεννᾶται ἔχθρα, καὶ ἀπὸ ἔχθραν γεννᾶται μῖσος, καὶ ἀπὸ τὴν μισητείαν διαβαίννουν τὴν ἐντολὴν τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ ἀλλάσσουν οἱ κακοὶ λογισμοὶ καὶ κακιὲς συνείδησες τῶν ἀνθρώπων, καὶ μεταστρέφουνται εἰς τὰ πάθη μὲ πεῖσμαν· διὰ τοῦτον φαίνεταί μου νὰ δώσῃς τόπον τοὺς κακούς. Οἱ ἀφέντες μου οἱ ἀδελφοί σου ἐπῆγαν ἀππὦδε πολλὰ ἀνκρισμένοι καὶ ἀντροπιασμένοι ἀξ αὑτόν σου, καὶ εἶνε καὶ οὗλοι σου οἱ συνγκενάδες σου μετά τους καὶ πολλοὶ καβαλλάριδες, καὶ πρὶν κοιμηθοῦν ἀνγκρισμένοι καὶ νὰ ᾿ννοιαστοῦν κανέναν κακόν, ὁποῦ μὲν τὸ δώσῃ ὁ θεός, παρακαλῶ σε νὰ τοὺς μηνύσῃς νὰ ἔλθουν, καὶ καλὰ καὶ ὄμνοστα λογία νὰ καταπαύσῃς τὸν θυμόν τους, καὶ ὡς φρένιμος θέλεις σιγουργιάσειν τὴν καρδιάν τους καὶ θέλεις ἐβγάλειν τὸν θυμὸν ἀποὺ ᾿ξ αὑτῆς τους, καὶ θέλεις τοὺς βάλειν ἀποὺ κακὸν εἰς καλόν.»
§274.-Τοῦτος ὁ λόγος πολλὰ ἄρεσεν τοῦ ρηγός, καὶ λαλεῖ του: «Καλὰ τὸ ἐννοιάστης ὅμως ἄμε ὡς τοὺς ἀδελφούς μου καὶ πέ τους νὰ ἔλθουν ὡς ὧδε διὰ τίποτε χρῆσιν, τίποτε ζήτημαν εἰς τὸ μερτικὸν τῆς βουλῆς ὁποῦ θέλου νὰ ποίσουν τούτην τὴὺνύκταν εἰς τὴν ἀφορμὴν ὁποῦ ἐγὼ ἐτάνυσα.» Ὁ καβαλλάρης ἐκαβαλλίκευσεν καὶ ἀναγκάστη νὰ τοὺς ἐφτάσῃ, καὶ τρέχει καὶ πάγει ὡς τὸν Ἅγιον Γεώργιον τῶν Ὀρνιθίων, ὅπου πουλοῦνται τὰ νήματα τὰ πανπακερά· καὶ [κοντὰ εἰς τὴν γωνίαν] εὑρίσκεται μία γούρνα μαρμαρένη καὶ εἶνε ἄξαμος τοῦ μόδι τῆς Λευκωσίας, καὶ τοῦτον γράφω το διὰ ἀθύμησιν καιροῦ καὶ τόπου. Τὸ λοιπὸν ἐκόντεψέν τους ἐκεῖ ὁ ἀμιράλλης καὶ χαιρετᾷ τους· οἱ καβαλλάριδες θωρῶντα τον πῶς ἔρχετον, λαλοῦν τοὺς ἀδελφοὺς τοῦ ρηγός: «᾿Δέτε πῶς ἔπεψε νὰ σᾶς παρακαλέσῃ, διὰ νὰ πᾶτε νὰ μερώσῃ μετά σας, καὶ αὔρι νὰ σᾶς ποί(σῃ) χειρόττερα παρὰ ᾿ποῦ σᾶς ἐποῖκεν, καὶ θέλετε εἶσθαιν ἀντροπιασμένοι ὅληνς σας τὴν ζωήν, ὅτι ὀπίσω εἰς τὴν ἀντροπὴν ὅπου σας ἐποῖκεν, ἔπεψεν τώρα νὰ μᾶς κρατῇ ὡς ἀφέντες ὅπου σᾶς ἔποῖκεν, ἔπεωεν τώρα νὰ σᾶς κολακέψη ὡς γοιὸν τὰ κοπελλία, καὶ ἀππὦδε καὶ ὀμπρὸς νὰ μᾶς κρατῇ ὡς κτηνὰ καὶ μωρούς, καὶ νὰ παγαίνετε ἀπὸ καλὸν εἰς χειρόττερον· εἰ δὲ καὶ θέλετε νὰ ποίσετε ὡς φρίνιμοι, ὡς ἀφέντες ὅπου εὑρίσκεσθε, ἀλαμᾶς νὰ σᾶς ἀγρωνίσουν οἱ παρχατώττεροι ἀνθρῶποι, ἀποδιαβάσετέ τον, καὶ ἔλατε μετά μας κατὰ τὸν ὅρκον σας, [διὰ νὰ καταπαύσῃ εἰς καλλίττερον.»] Καὶ εἰς τὴν αὐτὴν τάξιν ἐκουντεντιάσαν οἱ ἄρχοντες. Τότε ἐκόντεψεν ὁ ἀμιράλλης κοντὰ τοὺς ἀφέντες καὶ ἐχαιρέτησέν τους ἀπὸ τὴν μερίαν τοῦ ρηγός, καὶ ἐστάθησαν ὀμπρὸς εἰς τὸν Ἅγιον Γεώργιον· καὶ ἅνταν ἐχαιρετῆσαν, ἄρχεψεν ὁ ἀμιράλλης καὶ λαλεῖ τους:
§275.-Ἀφέντες, ό ἀφέντης μου ὁ ρήγας ὁ ἀφέντης ὁ ἀδελφός σας ζητᾷ σας καὶ θέλει σας νὰ σμίξη ἄλλον ζήτημαν κρυφὸν κοντὰ εἰς ἐκεῖνον, καὶ ἀνισῶς καὶ ἀγαπᾶτε τον, στραφῆτε νὰ σᾶ(ς) συντύχῃ καὶ πάλε θέλετε πάγειν.» Οἱ ἄρχοντες μὲ θυμὸν καὶ πλῆξιν καὶ πρικρίαν δὲν ἐθελῆσα νὰ στραφοῦν, ἀμμὲ λαλοῦν του: «Ἀφέντη ἀμιράλλη, στράφου εἰς τὸν ρήγαν καὶ ρικουμαντίασ᾿ μας εἰς αὑτόν του, καὶ ἔχομεν μεγάλην ἔννοιαν διὰ τὴν ἔννοιαν τῆς βουλῆς καὶ πέτε τοῦ το, καὶ πᾶμεν ὅλην τὴ νύκτα νὰ κοπιάσωμεν καὶ νὰ ποίσωμεν τὸ θέλημάν του εἰς τίποτε μόδον ὠφέλ(ι)μον ὅπου νὰ μπορήσωμε, καὶ κεῖνο τὸ νὰ γρωνίσωμεν θέλομεν τὸ βάλειν εἰς γράφος καὶ τὸ πωρνὸν θέλομεν τὸ φέρειν.» Τὸ λοιπὸν ὁ ἀμιράλλης λαλεῖ τους: «Διὰ τὴν ἀγάπην τοῦ Χριστοῦ στραφῆτε ὀπίσω, καὶ μηδὲν θελήσετε νὰ χαροῦν οἱ ἐχθροί σας, ὅτι τοὺς ἀγγέλους εἶνε ἁποῦ δὲν σκανταλίζουνται· το λοιπὸν ἀνὲν καὶ ὁ ἀδελφό σας ἐσύντυχέν λογία ἄπρεπα, πρέπει ἐσεῖς ὡς γοιὸν περίτου παιδίοι παρὰ κεῖνον, δίκαιο νὰ τὸν βαστάξετε ὡς γοιὸν μεγαλλήττερον ἀδελφὸν καὶ ἀφέντης σας, διὰ τὸν στέφανον ὁποῦ φορεῖ.» Καὶ κεῖνοι εἶπαν του: «Εὔκαιρα κοπιάζεις!» Καὶ ἐπήγασιν εἰς τὸ χανού- τιν τοῦ Γιαφούνη. Καὶ πολλὰ τοὺς ἐσύντυχεν, καὶ κεῖνοι δὲν ἐκουργιάσαν, καὶ εἶπαν του: «Δὲν τὸ διδεῖ ὁ καιρὸς ὅτι νὰ στραφοῦν οἱ καβαλλάριδες καὶ νὰ σκορπιστοῦσιν, καὶ νὰ μὲν πληροφορήσωμεν τὸ θέλημαν τοῦ ρηγός, καὶ δὲν ὠφελᾷ.» «Ἀμμὲ τώρα, ὡς γοιὸν εὑρισκούμεθα νὰ πᾶμεν ἔσσω μου,» εἶπεν του ὁ πρίντζης, «καὶ ἀπ᾿ ἐκεῖ μὲν σκαλευτοῦμεν ὅσ᾿ ὥς που νὰ τελειωθῇ ἡ βουλή, καὶ καλὰ πωρνὸν θέλει τὸ ᾿δεῖν· καὶ τὸ ὥρισε νὰ πιντωθῇ τὸ θέλημάν του, θέλει μᾶς τὸ πεῖν, καὶ θέλομεν τὸ ἰδεῖν, καὶ ρικουμαντίασ᾿ μας εἰς τὴν ἀφεντιάν του.»
§276.-Θεωρῶντα ὁ καλὸς καβαλλάρης πῶς τίποτε δὲν ἐφέλαν, ἀποχαιρέτησέν τους καὶ ἐπῆγεν εἰς τὸν ρήγα. Θεωρῶντα ὁ ρήγας τὸν ἀμιράλλην πῶς ἐστράφην χωρὶς τοὺς ἀδελφούς του, ἐπικράνθην καὶ εἶπεν του: «Πῶς ἔν᾿ τ᾿ ἀδέλφιά μου; διατί δὲν τοὺς ἔφερες;» Καὶ εἶπεν του: «Ἀφέντη, ἔφτασά τους εἰς τὸν Ἅγιον Γεώργιον καὶ πολλὰ τοὺς εἴπουν ἀπὸ τὴν μερίαν σου καὶ ἔπαρακάλεσά τους, καὶ δὲν ἐθέλησαν, διὰ τὴν εὐλογημένην βουλὴν ὅπου τοὺς εἶπες νὰ ποίσουν, καὶ διὰ νὰ μηδὲν ξηλωθοῦν, καὶ τὸ πρωῒ μέλλει νὰ τελειωθῇ· καὶ μήπως καὶ κακοφανῇ σου, ἐφάνην ὅλους ἀντάμα νὰ πᾶσιν εἰς τὸ σπίτιν τοῦ ἀφέντη τοῦ ᾿δελφοῦ σου τοῦ πρίντζη, καὶ ἀπὸ ᾿κεῖ μηδὲν σκαλευτοῦν ὥς που νὰ ποίσουν ἀπόφαν τὸ μέλλει νὰ γινῇ, καὶ ταχία, ἀν τὸ δώσῃ ὁ θεός, θέλουν τὸ φέρειν ἔμπροσθέν σου, καὶ θέλεις ἰδεῖν τὴν ἀπόφαν, καὶ ρικου- μαντιάζουνται εἰς τὴν ἀφεντιάν σου.» Γροικῶντα τοῦτον ἐφάνην καλὸν τοῦ ρηγός.
§277.-Οἱ δὲ ἄρχοντες οἱ καβαλλάριδες καὶ οὗλοι τῆς βουλῆς ἐσωρεύτησαν εἰς τὸ σπίτιν τοῦ πρίντζη καὶ ἐφιλονεικοῦσαν ὅλην τὴ νύκταν διὰ τὸν ρήγα· καὶ εἶπαν οἱ καβαλλάριδες τους ἀδελφοὺς τοῦ ρηγός: «Τίντα δίκαιον ἔχει ὁ ρήγας μετά σας, ὁποὖστε ρηγάδες ὡς γοιὸν ἐκεῖνον; Δὲν σᾶς λείπει παρὰ ὁ στέφανος νἆστε ὡς γοιὸν ἐκεῖνον· νὰ σᾶς ᾿τιμάζη καθημερινὸν [ἔμπροσθεν τοὺς ἄτυχους ἀνθρώπους,] πῶς θέλει σᾶς στιμιάσειν ἄλλην φοράν; Καὶ τίντα δίκαιον ἔχει μὲ τους ἀνθρώπους του τοὺς λιζίους νὰ τοὺς βάλῃ εἰς τὴν φυλακὴν χωρὶς τὸν φανὸν τῆς βουλῆς του, καὶ χωρὶς νὰ γρωνίσῃ καὶ ἔχει δίκαιον; ὅτι διὰ τὴν ἀλήθειαν καὶ διὰ τὸν ὄρδινον καὶ νόμον τῶν ἀσίζων, τὲς ποῖες ἔμοσε νὰ τὲς βλεπίσῃ καὶ νὰ τὲς φυλάξῃ, ἀξαπολύσαν οἱ γονεῖς μας τὸ δικόν τους καὶ τὲς κλερονομιές τους καὶ ἦλθαν εἰς τὸ νησσὶν τοῦτον, πρὸς μικρὴν ἀνάπαυσιν, καὶ ἐποῖκαν σασμοὺς καὶ νόμους μεσόν τους· τώρα ὁ ρήγας ἐπῆγεν κατὰ πρόσωπα τοὺς νόμους καὶ τῶν ἀσίζων· πῶς εἶνε τοῦτον; Καὶ ἐφυλάκισεν τὸν σὶ(ρ) Χαρρὴν ὁ ποῖος εἶνε ἄνθρωπος λιζίος, καὶ εἴμεστεν κρατούμενοί ὁ εἶς ὑπὲρ τοῦ ἄλλου εἰς πίστιν· ἀκομὴ ἐπῆρεν τὸν υἱόν του τὸν Τζακές, ὅπου εἶνε πρῶτος έκδεχόμενος τοῦ ψουμιοῦ τοῦ κυροῦ του, καὶ ἔχει καὶ τοῦτος τόσην ἐλευθερίαν ὡς γοιὸν τὸν πατέραν του κατὰ τὰ συνηθία καὶ ἀσίζες τοῦ αὐτοῦ ρηγάτου· πάλε τὴν τάμου Μαρία τε Ζιπλὲτ τὴν κόρην του, καβαλλαρίαν γυναῖκαν τοῦ σὶρ Γὴ τε Βερνή· [τὴν ποίαν ὅταν θελήσῃ νὰ τὴν ἁρμάσῃ, νὰ ᾖνε δουλεμένη ἡ δούλευσι τοὺς καβαλλάριδες.] Γινίσκεται τοῦτον μὲ τὴν αὐλήν, τουτἔστιν γʹ καβαλλάριδες λιζίους, ὁ ἕνας εἰς τὸν τόπον τοῦ ρηγός, καὶ οἱ δύο ἡ αὐλὴ καὶ ὁ γραμματικὸς τοῦ μαρτζασίου· διαβαίνοντα ἕνας χρόνος ἀπὸ τὸν θάνατον τοῦ ἀνδρός της τοῦ ἀποθαμμένου, καὶ νὰ τῆς δώσου ν(ὰ) γροικήσῃ τὸ θέλημαν τοῦ ρηγός· ὁ ἀφέντης ὁ ρήγας εἰς ὅλα τὰ πράματα θέλει νὰ ὁρίσῃ διὰ νὰ δουλευτῇ ἀπὸ τοὺς λᾶς ὅπου ἔχουν ἀποὺ τὰ καλά του εἰς τὸ αὐτὸν νησσὶν κατὰ τὴν ἀσίζαν, ῾διὰ τοῦτον ἀνοματίζομέν σου τὸν ὀδ(εῖνα)ν καὶ τὸν ὀδ(εῖνα)ν.᾿ Καὶ νὰ τῆς ἀνοματίσουν γʹ καβαλλάριδες νὰ ᾖνε τιτοίας γενεᾶς ὡς γοιὸν τὴν δικήν της ἢ τὴν γενιὰν τοῦ ἀνδρός της ὅπου ᾿πέθανεν, καὶ νὰ διαλέξῃ ἕναν ἀπὸ τοὺς γ᾿ ὅποιον θέλει νὰ πάρῃ ν᾿ ἁρμαστῇ. Ἡ ἀρχόντισσα ἐκδέχεται καιρὸν νὰ ζητήσῃ διὰ ν᾿ ἀπολογηθῇ, διὰ νἄχῃ τὴν βουλήν τους. Καὶ διαβαίνοντα ὁ καιρός, καὶ ἡ ἀρχόντισσα δὲν διαλέξη, τότες ἔχει πογέριν ὁ ρήγας νὰ τὴν ἁρμάσῃ μὲ ἕναν ἀπὸ τοὺς γʹ τοὺς ἄνωθεν, ὡς γοιὸν θέλει ὁ ρήγας. Ἀμμὲ ὁ ρήγας θέλει νὰ τὴν ἁρμάσῃ μ᾿ ἕναν ράφτην. Διὰ τοῦτον φαίνεταί μας εἰς πᾶσα δικαιοσύνην, δὲν εἶνε δίκαιο νὰ τὸ στερεώσωμεν. Ἀμμὲ νὰ μᾶς γροικήσετε νὰ ποίσετε τὸ θέλημάν μας, καὶ μεῖς μὲ τὴν βοήθειάν σας νὰ τὸν ἀρεστιάσωμεν, νὰ τὸν τριγυριάσωμεν, καὶ ἀπ᾿ ἐκεῖ νὰ μὲν σκαλέψῃ ὥς που νὰ μᾶς προμουτιάσῃ εἰς τὴν πὶστιν του νὰ μᾶς κρατῇ καὶ νὰ μᾶς ὁδηγᾷ κατὰ τὲς ἀσίζες μας, τὲς ποῖες οἱ μακαρισμένοι ρηγάδες οἱ προκάτοχοί του ἐποῖκαν τοῦτα τὰ καλὰ συνηθία τοῦ αὐτοῦ ρηγάτου· εἰ δὲ ἀλλοίως, πασαεῖς ἀποὺ μᾶς ν᾿ ἀφήσωμεν τὸ ρηγάτον καὶ νὰ πᾶμεν νὰ γυρέψωμεν τὸ ριζικόν μας ὅπου νὰ μᾶς ὁδηγήσῃ ὁ θεός.»
§278.-Τούτη ἡ βουλὴὺ καλὰ ἄρεσεν τοῦ πρίντζη καὶ τοῦ κοντοσταύλη, καὶ ἐκάτζα νὰ φᾶσιν, νὰ δειπνήσουν· καὶ ἅνταν ἐδειπνῆσαν, καὶ ἐππέσα νὰ κοιμηθοῦσιν εἰς τὸ μέγαν παλάτιν ὅπου ἐκάθουνταν, ἔφτασεν ὁ καιρὸς ὅπου ὁ ἐχθρὸς ἐθέλησε νὰ ᾿σσοδιάσῃ τοὺς καρποὺς τοὺς ἔβαλεν εἰς τὴν καρδιάν τους, νὰ σκοτώσουν τὸν ρήγαν. Θωρῶντα ὅτι τ᾿ ἀδελφία τοῦ ρηγὸς ἦσαν εἰς τὴν συντροφιάν τους, ἐγινῆκαν ἀπό- τορμοι καὶ ἐβουλεύτησαν μεσόν τους καὶ εἴπασιν: «Ἄρχοντες, εἶνε ἀλήθεια καὶ εἴπαμεν τοὺς ἀφέντες τοὺς ἀδελφοὺς τοῦ ρηγός, πρῶτο ν᾿ ἀρεστιάσωμεν τὸν ρήγαν καὶ νὰ μᾶς προμουτιάσῃ νὰ μᾶς κρατῇ ὡς γοιὸν πρέπει· νὰ τὸν ἀφήσωμεν, ὅλοι θέλομε ν᾿ ἀποθάνωμεν· ἔμοσεν ἑπτὰ φορὲς πρωτήττερα παρὰ νὰ στεφθῇ, καὶ τότες τὸν ἐφόρησεν καὶ ἐλησμόνησεν τοὺς ὅρκους του καὶ πάγει κατὰ πρόσωπα τῶν ἀσίζων καὶ τοῦ θεοῦ ὅπου ἔμοσεν· τίς νὰ ᾿μπιστευθῇ τοῦ ὅρκου του πλέον, καὶ τὰ προυμουτιάσματά του ἀπὦδε καὶ ὀμπρός;» Οἱ δελοιποὶ εἶπαν: «Καλῶς λαλεῖτε· προυμουτιάζω σας δὲν εἴμεστεν κρατούμενοι, ἀφ᾿ ὃν ἐτζάκκισεν τὸν ὅρκον του· ἀμμὲ στέκοντα ἔμπροσθέν του νὰ τὸν σκοτώσωμεν.» Ἄλλοι εἶπα: «Νὰ πᾶμεν ἀργὰ εἰς τὸ σπίτιν του, καὶ ὡς γοιὸν κοιμᾶται νὰ τὸν σκοτώσωμεν, καὶ ν᾿ ἀναγκάσωμεν τοὺς ἀδελφούς του, καὶ νὰ καβαλλικεύσωμεν τὴν αὐγήν· καὶ οὕτως θέλομεν τελειώσειν ἐκεῖνον τὸ συντυχάννομεν, ἀλλοίως μήπως καὶ οἱ ᾿δελφοί του ἀποκτείνουν μας.» Ἄλλοι εἴπασιν: «Ἂς τὸ ποίσωμεν· ἀμμὲ παρακαλοῦν καὶ τ᾿ ἀδελφία του νὰ τοῦ ἀποβγοῦν.» Χωρὶς τῶν ἀδελφιῶν του ἐξηγοῦνταν, καὶ δὲν ἤξευραν τίποτε ἀπὸ τὴν βουλὴν τούτην. [Ὁ λόγος λαλεῖ: τόσην πέναν ἔχει] ἁποῦ κρατεῖ τὸ πόδιν τοῦ ᾿ριφίου, ὡς γοιὸν ἐκεῖνον ὁποῦ τὸ γδέρνει. Τὸ λοιπὸν τὸ μεσανυκτικὸν ἀναγκάσαν τοὺς ἀφέν- ες νὰ ὁρίσουν διὰ νὰ σελλώσουν καὶ νὰ πέψου νὰ ἐβγάλουν τοὺς φυλακισμένους καβαλλάριδες καὶ νὰ τζακκίσουν καὶ τὰ σίδερα ἀποὺ τὰ ποδία τους, τοῦ Τζάκο τε Ζιπλὲτ καὶ τῆς Μαρία τε Ζιπλέτ, ὡς γοιὸν ἐγίνετον.
§279.-Πάλι νὰ στραφοῦμεν εἰς τὸν ρήγα. Ὅνταν ἐτελείωσεν τὲς δουλειές του, ἐκάτζε νὰ φᾷ νὰ δειπνήση πολλὰ πικραμμένος, τῇ τρίτῃ τῇ ιςʹ ἰαννουαρίου ατξηʹ Χριστοῦ, τὴν παραμονὴν τοῦ ἁγίου Ἀντωνίου. Οἱ ποῖοι θεωρῶντα τὸν ρήγα ὁτοσαῦτα θυμωμένον ἐποῖκεν τὸν ἐμαυτόν του καὶ ἦτον ἄρρωστος, καὶ πολλοὶ καβαλλάριδες μετά του. Ὁ ρήγας ἐνήστευγεν τὴν παραμονὴν τοῦ ἁγίου Ἀντωνίου, [καὶ ὀπίσω εἰς πολλοὺς μίσους ἐφέραν του ἀγρελλία,] καὶ ὁ βαχλιώτης του ἐζήτησεν λάδιν νὰ βάλῃ εἰς τʹ ἀγρελλία, καὶ ἐλησμόνησα ν᾿ ἀγοράσουν, καὶ τὰ χανουτία ἐσφαλίσαν ὅτι ἦτον ἀργά· καὶ ὁ ρήγας ἐγδέχετο νὰ τὰ φέρουν ὀμπρός του· θωρῶντα πῶς δὲν τὰ ἐφέραν, εἶπεν: «Εἰς τ᾿ ὄνομαν τοῦ θεοῦ τοῦτα τ᾿ ἀγρελλία φέρνετέ τα!» Καὶ ὁ βαχλιώτης εἶπεν του: «Ἀφέντη, λάδιν δὲν ἔχουν, καὶ οἱ μυροψοὶ έσφαλίσαν, καὶ πῶς ἐλησμονῆσα νὰ φέρουν ἀνωράς, καὶ ἂς ἔχουν συμπάθειον.» Ὁ ρήγας ἀγκρίστην, ἔχοντα καὶ ἦτον θυμωμένος καὶ φουσκωμένος, καὶ εἶπεν: «Τοῦτον ἐποῖκεν μοῦ το ὁ ἐμπαλὴς τῆς αὐλῆς μου διὰ πεῖσμαν.» Καὶ πέμπει μοναῦτα καὶ βάλλει τον εἰς τὴν φυλακήν, καὶ ἐφοβέρισέν τον ὅτι τὸ πωρνὸ νὰ κόψη τὴν κεφαλήν του. Τὸν ποῖον ἐβγάλαν τον ἅνταν ἐβγάλαν καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους· καὶ ἦλθαν ὅλοι ἀπὸ τὴν φυλακὴν ἔσσω τοῦ πρίντζη, καὶ ἐξηγήθησάν του εἴ τι ἐγίνετον.
§280.-Καὶ τὴν τετράδην τῇ ι ζʹ ἰανουαρίου ατξη ʹ Χριστοῦ καλὰ ταχία ἦλθαν ὅλοι οἱ καβαλλάριδες εἰς τὴν συντροφιὰν τοῦ πρίντζη καὶ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ του εἰς τὸ ρηγάτικον ἀπλίκιν καὶ ἀπεζεῦσαν εἰς τὸ περροὺνιν, καὶ ἐνέβησαν τὴν σκάλαν καὶ ἐπῆγαν εἰς τὴν λόντζαν μὲ ὅσους ἦσαν εἰς τὴν φυλακήν. Τότες ἀκτυπᾷ ὁ πρίντζης τὴν πόρταν πιδεξία· ἡμέρα τοὺς λουχιέριδες ἦτον τοῦ Τζιλὲτ τε Κορναλίε· ἄνοιξεν, καὶ ὅταν ἐνέβησαν οἱ ἀδελφοὶ τοῦ ρηγὸς ἐνέβησαν ὅλοι ἀντάμα. Ἐγροίκησεν ὁ ρήγας τὴν ἀναμιγὴν καὶ ἐσηκώθην ἀπὸ τὸ κρεβάτιν καὶ λαλεῖ: «Ποῖγοι εἶνε τοῦτοι ὅπου ἦλθαν;» Ἡ τάμου Τζίβα τε Σκαντελίε, ἡ καύχα του ὁποῦ: ἐκοιμᾶτον μετά του, εἶπεν του: Τίς θέλει εἶσταιν παρὰ τ᾿ ἀδελφία σου;» Καὶ ἐσκουλλίστην ἡ ἀρχόντισσα τὴν κότταν της καὶ ἐξέβην ἔξω εἰς τὴν λόντζαν καὶ ἐκατέβην εἰς τὸ σέντε· καὶ ἐκεῖ ἐκείθουνταν σέλλες τῶν τζούστων· καὶ ἐσφαλίσαν τὴν δράππαν. Ὁ πρίντζης θωρῶντα τὴν τάμου Τζίβαν πῶς ἐβγῆκεν ἀπὸ τὸ πλευρὸν τοῦ ρηγός, ἐνέβην εἰς τὴν τζάμπραν τοῦ ρηγὸς καὶ ἐχαιρέτησεν τὸν ρήγαν· καὶ ὁ κοντοσταύλης δὲν ἐνέβην ἔσσω, οὐδὲ ὁ πρίντζης ἔθελε νὰ μπῇ, ἀμμὲ οἱ καβαλλάριδες τὸν ἐβιάσαν καὶ ἐμπῆκεν, ὅπου ἄλλον ἐννοιάζουντα. Τότε λαλεῖ τοῦ ρηγός: «Ἀφέντη, καλημέρα πάνω σου.» Καὶ ὁ ρήγας εἶπεν του: «Καλημέρα νἄχῃς, καλέ μου ἀδελφέ.» Καὶ ὁ πρίντζης εἶπεν του: «Ἀπόψε πολλὰ ἐκοπιάσαμεν ὅλην τὴ νύκταν καὶ ἐγράψαμεν τὸν φανόν μας καὶ ἐφέραμέν σου νὰ τὸν ἰδῇς.» Ὁ ρήγας ἦτον γυμνὸς μὲ τὸ ἀποκάμισον καὶ ἔθελε νὰ ᾿ντυθῇ, καὶ ἀντράπη νὰ ἐντυθῇ ὀμπρὸς τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ του, καὶ λαλεῖ του: «Αδελφὲ πρίντζη, ἄμε ὀλλί(γ)ον ἔξω νὰ ᾿ντυθῶ, καὶ θέλω ᾿δεῖν τὸ γράψιμόν σας.» Ὁ πρίντζης ἀναχώρησεν. Τότες ἐβρούθησεν (ὁ) ἀφέντης τοῦ Ἀρσεφίου καὶ ᾿βάσταν μίαν κουρτέλλαν ὡς γοιὸν σπαθόπουλλον εἰς τὸ χέριν του, κατὰ τὰ ᾿γουζιάζαν τὸν αὐτὸν καιρόν, καὶ κοντά του ὁ σὶρ Χαρρὴν τε Ζιπλέτ. Καὶ ὅνταν ἐβγῆκεν ὁ πρίντζης, ἔβαλεν τὰ ροῦχα του νὰ ᾿ντυθῇ, καὶ ἔβαλεν [τὄναν του μανίκιν,] καὶ ᾿γύρισεν τὸ πρόσωπόν του νὰ βάλῃ καὶ τὸ ἄλλον, καὶ θωρεῖ τοὺς καβαλλάριδες εἰς τὴν τζάμπραν του· καὶ λαλεῖ τους: «Ἄπιστοι, παράβουλοι, ἴντα θέλετε τούτην τὴν ὥραν εἰς τὴν τζάμπραν μου ἀπανω θιόν μου;» Καὶ ἦτον ὁ σὶρ Φιλίππη τε Ἴνπελὴν ἀφέντης τοῦ Ἀρσεφίου, καὶ ὁ σὶρ Χαρρὴν τε Ζιπλέτ, καὶ ὁ σὶρ Τζάκες τε Γαβριάλε, τοῦτοι οἱ γʹ ἐνέβησαν μοναῦτα καὶ ἐβγάλαν τὰ σπαθιά τους καὶ ᾿δῶκαν του τρεῖς τέσσαρεις κόρπους πασαεῖς, καὶ ὁ ρήγας ἔβαλεν φωνές: «Βοήθειαν! ἐλεμοσύνην!» Καὶ μοναῦτα ἐβρούθησεν καὶ ἐνέβην ὁ σὶρ Τζουὰν Γκοράπ, ὁ ἐμπαλὴς τῆς αὐλῆς, καὶ ηὗρεν τον ἐλλιγωμένον, καὶ ἐβγάλλει τὸ μαχαίριν του καὶ ἔκοψεν τὴν κεφαλήν του, λαλῶντα: «Ἐσοὺ σήμερον ἔθελες νὰ κόψῃς τὴν κεφαλήν μου, καὶ ᾿γὼ νὰ κόψω τὴν δικήν σου, καὶ τὸ ἀναπάλημάν σου νὰ ππέσῃ ἀπάνω σου!»
§281.-Καὶ οὕτως ἐνέβησαν οἱ καβαλλάριδες ν-εἷς ὀπίσω τοῦ ἄλλου, καὶ ὅλοι ἐβάλαν τὰ μαχαίργια τους διὰ τὸν ὅρκον, καὶ ἐκρατοῦσαν τοὺς ἀδελφοὺς τοῦ ρηγός κοντὰ καὶ σφικτά, διὰ νὰ μηδὲν γενῇ τίποτες ταραχή· ἐκεῖνοι ἐφοβοῦνταν μηδὲν τοὺ(ς) σκοτώσουν. Καὶ τἄπισα παρὰ οὕλους ἦρτεν ὁ τουρκοπουλιέρης ὅπου δὲν ἦτον εἰς τὴν βουλήν τους· διὰ νὰ μηδὲν ᾖνε ἔξω τῆς βουλῆς, ηὗρεν τον τυλιμένον (᾿ς) τὸ αἷμαν του, ἀναβράκωτον καὶ κομμοκέφαλον, καὶ ἔβγαλεν τὴν μάχαιράν του καὶ κόβγει τὰ λυμπά του μὲ τὸν αὐλόν, καὶ εἶπεν του: Διὰ τοῦτα ἔδωκες θάνατον!» Καὶ πολλά τὸν ἐλυπήθην, ἀμμὲ διὰ νἆνε εἰς τὴν συντροφιάν τους τὸ ᾿ποῖκεν.