The Monk's Tale

I will tell you all about these different bits of tragedy, but do forgive me if I don't tell them in order. Rather than telling them in order like this: 1. 2. 3. I'll just tell them whichever way they come to mind. Like this: [[One here]] [[one here-]] [[and one here.]]

Lucifer Lucifer. Lucy in the sky Let us begin with Lucy in the sky. Thought he was invincible and then he fell /// thought he was an angel but was a sinner. And fell in to hell. Where he now is. Oh Lucifer! Lucy in the sky. Now you are the devil and you can never escape your lot. You have fallen fallen fallen fallen and can never escape your misery. Another? [[Another?]] Or [[back to the beginning?]] Or [[something else entirely?]]

Adam! You know Adam. He's the one who was made by God himself, with his own hands. God's own warm hands, in the plain of Damascus, made Adam. None of that 'fruit of someone's loins' stuff, Adam was a clean boy, and no belly button to be found. He owned paradise, it was all his, except except for one tree. That wasn't his. Then he sinned. And he was driven from paradise. Another day. And he was driven from paradise, where he had such a lovely time, to labour and misfortune and hell. How was that? You want more? But it's all tragedy. [[Tragedy.]] [[More.]]

No, I think not. Did you not like the tale I told? [[And the other one?]] What about that one?

No, not the beginning. Another story. (Sorry.) (Would you like [[something else?]]) This is the story of Hercules. He killed the evil B U S I R I S and fed him to his horses (the whole thing, flesh and bones). He also killed * a fiery venomous S E R P E N T * C A C U S (in a rocky cave) * the giant A N T A E U S And broke one of the two horns of A C H E L O U S. And he also carried heaven on his neck for many days. Never before him did a man kill so many monsters. Everybody knew him, all around the world, and everybody had heard his name. He travelled to every realm and every kingdom, and he was so strong that he couldn't be stopped. At both ends (both ends) of the world, he set pillars as boundaries, to show where he had gone. Dianira was his girlfriend, so pretty and nice, and one day she sent him a shirt. Oh, so fresh and fine was the shirt! Nessus had made it, and it was so fresh and so fine and Hercules put it on right away. It was poisoned in a very subtle way so that it made his flesh fall fall fall off his bones. After not even half a day! (And when he saw that he couldn't be helped he killed himself rather than die from a poison.) This is a tale to show that if you find yourself too lucky you might be close to the fall.

Peter, King of Cyprus! You won Alexandria in a noble, elegant way, and brought woe to many godless people. Even your own lieges envied you your success and murdered you in your own bed one fine morning! If that isn't a tragedy, I cannot think what would be. Fortune keeps turning her wheel over and over, more and more. [[And more.]]

[[Oh, so much tragedy.]] On Pedro, King of Spain O noble worthy Pedro, Spain's glory, whose majesty Fortune held so high, in truth all ought to mourn your piteous death. Your brother made you flee your own land, and afterwards in a siege through deception you were betrayed and led to his tent and there slain by his own hand; and he succeeded to your kingdom and revenues. 2382 He who bore the coat of arms with the field of snow and a black eagle in it, caught by a lime-twig of bright red, brewed all this sin and cursedness; and the Wicked Nest was a worker of this extremity. He was not a bit like Charlemagne's Oliver, who always heeded fidelity and honor, but a Ganelon of Armorica corrupted by a bribe, who brought this worthy king into such a snare. 2390 [[Carry on.]]

Samson. Sampson. What's in a name? A man with a mane of hair would look as sweet. Anyway, Sampson. Even before he was born the angels said he would be great. He was the strongest and toughest man. But he told his secret, ((the secret of his hair, shhhhhhhhhhhh)) to his wives and then he died. Of his own doing. When he got married he killed a lion with his own hands. He tore him apart with his own hands. When he told his secret to his wife she told it to his enemies and when she met another he took three hundred foxes THREE HUNDRED FOXES and tied their tails together and set them all on fire. Then they burned all the corn in the land. And all their olive trees. He killed a thousand men with only the cheekbone of a donkey. All the killing made him thirsty so God sent him a fountain from the jawbone of the donkey and he drank and he didn't die. One night he tore up the gates of the city and carried them on his back for everyone to see. Oh Sampson! So strong and noble and tough and strong and noble and tough. If only you hadn't told them the secret ((the secret of the hair shhhhhh)). Never did you drink anything, no, teetotalling all throughout the year (and not just January), and never did you let a pair of scissors or a razor blade touch his head. ((The hair.)) He told Delilah about the hair ((THE HAIR!)) and she cut it, snip, clean off. And read on only if you want to know and the enemies found him and GOUGED OUT HIS EYES- they could never have done that, had he still had his hair. He was blinded and imprisoned in a cave. In the end, fallen fallen fallen Sampson made the temple fall he s h o o k two pillars and the whole thing t u m b b b b b l e d down on him and his enemies. And they were slain but so was he. THREE THOUSAND were dead. The moral? Don't tell your wives your secrets. Clearly. Don't. [[Are you satisfied or would you like some more tragedy?]]

Barnabas of Lombardy (Lombardy, Lombarda) His name was Bernarbò Visconti and he lived in Milan. He was a veritable GOD of PLEASURE and SCOURGE - yes, child, they go together more often than not. What happened to him, you ask? Well! His own brother's son - you see, he was his nephew, but also married to Visconti's own child - caused him to die in his prison. How did this happen, you ask? I haven't the faintest idea, I'm afraid. [[Tell us another!]]

Zenobia was Queen of Palmyra. She was the hardiest the noblest the wisest the most active the best at war and indeed the best-connected queen who ever lived. She liked to hunt more than she liked to clean. She killed - a hart - 20 lions - 30 leopards - 40 boars - wild beasts And she wrestled with every young man she found. She always won. She was that strong. Her friends insisted she get married to Odenathus, a prince of a certain country, and although she put it off for a long time they were married eventually. (He had quite the same idea as her, bless him.) They lived together in suprising joy, but only lay together once, with the strict plan of multiplying and creating a child. And then another. Two sons they had, Zenobia and Odenathus, both virtuous and learned. Zenobia liked to wear gems and gold, and nothing else. How this worked in battle, I do not know, and do not ask this of me. She knew 28 languages and she loved to read. Together, Zenobia and her husband fought and won many battles, and conquered many lands. If you should like to know more about these, please read my firned Petrarch's blog, where he writes much about this topic. Then Odenathus died. And Zenobia continued to rule. Hermanno and Thymalo, the two sons, ruled as heirs of their father's realms. But WOE! Fortune made noble queen Zenobia fall from her kingdom. When Aurelian became emperor of Rome, he planned to defeat this queen. He made her flee, along with her children, and stole her beautiful chariot all bound up in gold and gemstones. He forced Zenobia to pull her own chariot into the city of Rome, with golden chains around her neck, crowned still, and covered in gems. What humiliation!

Belshazzar was a man of great pride. He inherited his father's throne. When a man is so proud and so sure of his luck, the wheel of fortune has a habit of CLUNK just plopping him down and knocking him off his high, high horse. NEIIGHHHHHH So Belshazzar's kingdom was divided into two by a sudden stroke of fate. He threw a big party for all his friends and told them all to cut loose. Then he called more of his friends and said, "Look, bring me some sacred vessels that my father once stole. I am sure it will not do any harm for everyone I love to drink wine out of them." And so they did. Suddenly, Belshazzar saw an ARMLESS HAND writing on the wall. The hand wrote these words on the wall: MANE TECHEL PHARES ...and nothing else. [[And then what happened??]]

No one in all the land could figure out what these letters meant. Do you remember somebody in the previous story who was good at interpreting letters? Dreams? Signals that no one else could read? [[Yes]] [[No]]

Good. Good. You are obviously paying attention. I know these tales are long but they are important because they could save you from falling falling falling the way the mighty often fall. The man who was good at reading signals was called Daniel. Daniel interpreted the words and said, "Belshazzar, God showed your father that He was more powerful than him, and He showed him that there is a price to be paid for pride. He took away his kingdom. Don't you remember? He cast him out from the company of everyone else. He lived with the donkeys. He slept outside. Until he realised that God was the king of EVERYTHING. You! His son! Are so proud, you're so proud, but you should know better. You had everyone drink from these vessels - don't you know that they are sacred? They all drank sinful wine from holy vessels. You must suffer. The hand wrote MANE TECHEL PHARES on the wall, and it was sent from God. Your reign is over. Your kingdom is now divided between the neighbouring states." And that very night the king was killed. There is no safety in power. When the wheel of fortune turns, all power can be taken away, and money, too, and friends.

You're obviously not paying attention. Have you learned nothing from all these tales of T R A G E D Y? [[No. Not a thing.]]

Fine. I'll tell you what happened anyway. But be warned. DANIEL, was the man's name. DANIEL. Daniel interpreted the words and said, "Belshazzar, God showed your father that He was more powerful than him, and He showed him that there is a price to be paid for pride. He took away his kingdom. Don't you remember? He cast him out from the company of everyone else. He lived with the donkeys. He slept outside. Until he realised that God was the king of EVERYTHING. You! His son! Are so proud, you're so proud, but you should know better. You had everyone drink from these vessels - don't you know that they are sacred? They all drank sinful wine from holy vessels. You must suffer. The hand wrote MANE TECHEL PHARES on the wall, and it was sent from God. Your reign is over. Your kingdom is now divided between the neighbouring states." And that very night the king was killed. There is no safety in power. When the wheel of fortune turns, all power can be taken away, and money, too, and friends.

There was a man called Ugolino, who was the count of Pisa. He was imprisoned in a big tower with his three little children. The oldest little child was barely 5 years of age. 5! What cruel punishment! Ugolino was forced to die in this prison after Ruggieri, Bishop of Pisa, had accused him (falsely, pray). They barely brought him any food into his prison tower, and when they did, there wasn't much of it, and it was near rotting. One day, it so happened that Ugolino heard, instead of the familiar rattling of the iron pot, only the creaks of his confinement's hinges and the slamming of the front door. Realising he was not going to get any food for himself or his children, he began to cry. His young son, 3 years of age (3!) asked him why he was crying, and asked when he would receive his humble serving of food. "Won't we get a little bit of bread today? I am so hungry I cannot get to sleep." Every day after that, the little boy said this, until one day he crawled into his father's arms, said his goodbyes and died. In his desparation and sorrow, Ugolino began to bite his own arms and cursed his bad fortune. His two remaining children thought he was trying to eat his own arms because he was hungry. They didn't recognise this sign of sorrow. "Father, please. Eat us! You gave us our flesh – you may now take it from us." And they, too, perished in his arms. Ugolino also died, only a few days later. Starved of hunger in deespair, he drew his last breath. This is the end of this tale. If you'd like to read more, my friend Dante has written it all down for you. And now? Would you like [[something else?]]

He wore rubies, sapphires, white pearls and gold, and ruled over lands east, west, north and south. His name: Nero. He never wore any outfit more than once. He liked to fish, yes, like many others, but he insisted on using a net wrought from pure gold. Everything he wished for, he received, and fortune was kind to him. One day, for his own amuseument, he burned down the city of Rome. Another day, he slew the senators, just to hear their cries. Another day, he killed his brother. Another day, he slept with his sister. Another day, he sliced his mother's womb open. He was truly an awful man, and never once cried. Instead, he ordered for wine to be brought to him so he might behold the sight with a refreshing beverage in hand. It is hard to believe, but as a young boy, Nero was taught by Seneca himself, who impressed upon him the values of virtue and a profound hatred of tyranny. One day, Nero ordered that Seneca was to bleed to death from both his arms, in a bath. As you can imagine, fortune has now had enough. He might have been strong, but she was stronger still. So his people rose against him and, when chased from his home, Nero found that he had no friends left. He knocked on all the doors he could think of, and none opened. Feeling the mob moving in closer and closer, he sent a prayer to the gods, but it did not help. He nearly died of fear alone. In his despair, he found two people hunched around a fire. He told them to kill him and take off his head, so that no one might know his body. In the end, he was the one to do the deed - he killed himself.

Who is Holofernes? Who was Holofernes? Arrogant, successful, a king's captain. Holofernes. Anyone who worked for him was forced to recognise Nebuchadnezzar as the god and the only god, and no other god beside him was to be adored. No place dared defy him, except for Bethulia, which was a strong city. (Eliachim was a priest there.) One night, Holofernes lay drunk in his own tent, and met his maker by the hands of Judith's blade. She sliced his head clean off and carried it to Bethulia, to show that they were free once more. I have put another tale in here, [[and one here.]]

I certainly needn't relate the tale of the Illustrious King of Antioch to you? You certainly know it already, do you not? He was so glorious and powerful that he thought he could reach the stars and command the mountains and the sea. He hated God with a passion, thinking God could never limit his own powers. He also hated everyone who didn't hate God. God, as you can imagine, didn't much like this at all. He SMOTE HIM with an INVISIBLE WOUND which was also an INCURABLE WOUND it cut and bit his guts until he could no longer bear it. Ironic, is it not, he who had wounded many soldiers, to bleed from his gut himself? Even as he suffered, he kept ordering his troops to destroy the city of God. As he pronounced the order, God made him fall off his chariot and bruise all over. Evil worms started crawling through his body, and he stank so badly that none of his friends or family could stand to be near him. He died alone. Thus was the vengeance of God.

Surely you'll have already heard the tale of Alexander. Yes? Surely every creature that lives anywhere on this globe has already heard? He won all of the world (by force) it quaked for fear of him. He was all knighthood and generosity. Nothing could keep him from showing off his spirit, which was roaring like a lion's or like a fire's - except, of course, for wine and women. It is hard for me to try to convey just now wide and far his reach was. I could name every single country he conquered and still not even leave a trace of his greatness in your little mind. Imagine you rode a noble steed for as long as you possibly could, until the poor beast perished. You would still be under his reign. That is how large his kingdom was. His father was called Philip, and he was the first king of Greece. He reigned for twelve years, Aleander did. How was he destroyed? You wretched listener. I will tell you. His own people poisoned him. Alexander, for whom the world was simply not enough. [[And do you know the one about Caesar?]] [[And the other one?]]

HUMBLE BIRTH + wisdom + labour = ROYAL MAJESTY J u l i u s t h e C o n q u e r o r After many battles on sea and on land, he became the emperor of Rome. But he made enemies with the fiercest enemy of them all: Fair fortune herself. After winning a long battle in Pompey, Julius returned home to Rome, crowned high with laurel. but Brutus Cassius (who wished him only ill), conspired against him, and chose the place where Julius should die. He loved dignity, your Julius, as I will show. One day, when Julius went to the Capitol, as he liked to do, and there Brutus and his friends captured him and wounded him many times. But so dignified was your true Julius that he never groaned, once perhaps, or maybe twice, but not thrice or any more. Even as he was dying he pulled his cloak to cover his modesty, so he may not embarrass himself or others. Let this be a lesson to you. Even when you have risen to the highest heights, conquered all you wish to conquer and find yourself safely emperor of your kingdom, fortune can turn her back on you.

Croesus used to be the king of Lydia, but only Cyrus ever feared him. He nearly died in a fire! Can you imagine such a thing? Let me paint the scene. He was led to be burned alive, but all of a sudden RAIN POURED D O W N And the fire was extinguished. And he escaped. He escaped and thought that fortune smiled upon him. How wrong he was! In his arrogance he started another war, he could not help himself. He thought that he would never be defeated, because he had escaped the flames of death. Drunk on war, Croesus dreamt one night of a tree. He saw himself high upon its branches, and saw the god Jupiter, who was washing him, back and sides. The god Phoebus brought a towel to dry him, fluffy and soft. All excited, Croesus told his daughter, who knew a lot about a lot. She said that the tree signified THE GALLOWS and Jupiter signified RAIN and SNOW and Phoebus with a towel the BEAMS OF THE SUN. "You will surely be hanged, father, and the rain will wash you, and the sun will dry you." And she was right, his daughter Phania. She was right. He was hanged, the king. Such is the manner of fortune: When you trust her, she will fail you, and cover her bright smile with a dark cloud.