"My lord, you must know that Primasso was a grammarian of great
eminence, and excellent and quick beyond all others in versifying;
whereby he waxed so notable and famous that, albeit he was not
everywhere known by sight, yet there were scarce any that did not
at least by name and report know who Primasso was.
[012]
Now it so
happened that, being once at Paris in straitened circumstances, as
it was his lot to be most of his time by reason that virtue is little
appreciated by the powerful, he heard speak of the Abbot of Cluny,
who, except the Pope, is supposed to be the richest prelate, in regard
of his vast revenues, that the Church of God can shew; and marvellous
and magnificent things were told him of the perpetual court
which the abbot kept, and how, wherever he was, he denied not to
any that came there either meat or drink, so only that he preferred
his request while the abbot was at table. [013]Which when
Primasso heard, he determined to go and see for himself what
magnificent state this abbot kept, for he was one that took great
delight in observing the ways of powerful and lordly men; wherefore
he asked how far from Paris was the abbot then sojourning. He
was informed that the abbot was then at one of his places distant
perhaps six miles; which Primasso concluded he could reach in time
for breakfast, if he started early in the morning.
[014]
When he had
learned the way, he found that no one else was travelling by it, and
fearing lest by mischance he should lose it, and so find himself where
it would not be easy for him to get food, he determined to obviate so
disagreeable a contingency by taking with him three loaves of bread--as
for drink, water, though not much to his taste, was, he supposed,
to be found everywhere. So, having disposed the loaves in the fold of
his tunic, he took the road and made such progress that he reached
the abbot's place of sojourn before the breakfast-hour.
[015]
Having
entered, he made the circuit of the entire place, observing everything,
the vast array of tables, and the vast kitchen well-appointed with all
things needful for the preparation and service of the breakfast, and
saying to himself: "In very truth this
man is even such a magnifico
as he is reported to be."
[016]
While his attention was thus occupied,
the abbot's seneschal, it being now breakfast-time, gave order to serve
water for the hands, which being washen, they sat them all down to
breakfast. Now it so happened that Primasso was placed immediately
in front of the door by which the abbot must pass from his chamber
into the hall;
[017]
in which, according to rule of his court, neither wine,
nor bread, nor aught else drinkable or eatable was ever set on the
tables before he made his appearance and was seated. The seneschal,
therefore, having set the tables, sent word to the abbot, that all
was now ready, and they waited only his pleasure.
[018]
So the abbot
gave the word, the door of his chamber was thrown open, and he
took a step or two forward towards the hall, gazing straight in front
of him as he went. Thus it fell out that the first man on whom he
set eyes was Primasso, who was in very sorry trim. The abbot, who
knew him not by sight, no sooner saw him, than, surprised by a
churlish mood to which he had hitherto been an entire stranger, he
said to himself:
[019]
"So it is
to such as this man that I give my hospitality;"
and going back into the chamber he bade lock the door, and
asked of his attendants whether the vile fellow that sate at table
directly opposite the door was known to any of them,
[020]
who, one and all,
answered in the negative. Primasso waited a little, but he was not
used to fast, and his journey had whetted his appetite. So, as the abbot
did not return, he drew out one of the loaves which he had brought
with him, and began to eat.
[021]
The abbot, after a while, bade one of
his servants go see whether Primasso were gone. The servant
returned with the answer: "No, sir, and (what is more) he is
eating a loaf of bread, which he seems to have brought with him.""Be it so then," said the abbot,
[022]
who was
vexed that he was not gone
of his own accord, but was not disposed to turn him out; "let him
eat his own bread, if he have any, for he shall have none of ours today."
By and by Primasso, having finished his first loaf, began, as
the abbot did not make his appearance, to eat the second; which was
likewise reported to the abbot, who had again sent to see if he were
gone.
[023]
Finally, as the abbot still delayed his coming, Primasso,
having finished the second loaf, began upon the third; whereof, once
more, word was carried to the abbot, who now began to commune
with himself and say: "Alas! my soul, what unwonted mood
harbourest thou to-day? What avarice? what scorn? and of whom?
I have given my hospitality, now for many a year, to whoso craved
it, without looking to see whether he were gentle or churl, poor or
rich, merchant or cheat, and mine eyes have seen it squandered on
vile fellows without number; and nought of that which I feel
towards this man ever entered my mind.
[024]
Assuredly it cannot be that
he is a man of no consequence, who is the occasion of this access of
avarice in me. Though he seem to me a vile fellow, he must be some
great man, that my mind is thus obstinately averse to do him honour."
[025]
Of which musings the upshot was that he sent to inquire who the
vile fellow was, and learning that he was Primasso, come to see if what
he had heard of his magnificent state were true, he was stricken with
shame, having heard of old Primasso's fame, and knowing him to be
a great man. Wherefore, being zealous to make him the amend, he
studied to do him honour in many ways;
[026]
and after breakfast, that
his garb might accord with his native dignity, he caused him to be
nobly arrayed, and setting him upon a palfrey and filling his purse,
left it to his own choice, whether to go or to stay. So Primasso, with
a full heart, thanked him for his courtesy in terms the amplest that
he could command, and, having left Paris afoot, returned thither on
horseback."
