Life of St Martin 1 part 4/7

But because not all seek the inner depths of the clear spring, to be searched within—a great part often drinks the open streams nearer at hand, neglecting the cold—we too, who can produce nothing worthy of the learned, will hold out troubled cups not far off to the sluggish. Often, too, the hisses sent forth from a tangled book try to equal the voices of blaring trumpets; and he who is wont to rest beneath the lofty pine sometimes penetrates the lowly thickets of the willow. You too, who would gladly succeed to the beneficial groves, if the path of the far-removed wood perhaps wearies you, hastening, burst into the thicket offered close at hand. The saint was proceeding to the thresholds of the blessed temple, to bring the accustomed mysteries to the eternal Christ. But behold, a poor man, trembling with icy cold,

clashing his wretched teeth with nodding head, and fitting his moved hands to his pallid cheeks, kept trying to catch a thin warmth with breathing breath. An icicle, congealing, persisted amid his frequent weeping. His voice too, resounding lamentably with words not whole, cut short by sobbing sounds and speaking with a groan, signified the whole complaint with its crying cause. Although these things had perhaps softened a hard severity—much less could Martin's pity, now well known, dissemble that misery of the lamenting wretch. At once he commands the deacon standing by, whom the bishop had chosen, after the manner of his predecessors, as guardian of the holy chest, that he hasten and fit a garment, bought at the Lord's expense and with His coin, to the freezing body.

So then he left these things, which he wished to be done, as though already done, and thereupon, entering the dwelling of his secret cell—which he had been wont here too to separate the saint, about to proceed to the sacred mysteries, from the neighboring crowds—he received a monk, soon to send forth a minister. But what might the wretched not penetrate, whom misery compels to publish abroad the exposed shame of a worn-down brow? What lay not open even to presbyters, want broke through, alleging its querulous cause at the delay of the gift. Then indeed pity invaded his whole sense, nor did it please him to incur again the peril of the commission. He hid his head with his cloak. Then, the witness removed, he gradually drew his bent arms back to his limbs, shaking off the gathered garment with his leaning breast. Nor did his bare body lie exposed, the poor man clothed.

So promptly did the outer cloak cover him, stripped, that, anticipating his vow, it made the hasty poor man himself unaware of the deed by which he had made him glad with a gift—hidden from the witness, manifest to the needy. Tell me, you who, scorning and trampling the joys of the world, have chosen to seek life with riches cast away: who, himself stripped, covered the naked with his own cloak? Who himself did not refuse to bear what he grieved that another bore? Who, willing to be wretched, refreshed the wretched by pitying? You have surpassed, Martin, the examples of the men of old, and yourself. You were to be wondered at then under a poor covering, when even a portion of the divided garment remained. Yield to yourself! By this gift you have doubled the ancient palm. Meanwhile, as was the custom, the deacon admonishes that it is the hour for the solemn rites to be performed in the assembly of the people. He says:

'The teaching of the holy prophet must be fulfilled. Let mercy precede the Mass. This sacrifice is more pleasing. First, fulfilling the commandment, clothe the naked.' Going out a little, having sought the poor man, he reports again that the absent one was not found, even with the largess. 'Come, bring forth your gift,' said the saint; 'the needy one will not be lacking.' Then a garment, bought scarcely for an eighth part of a solidus, woven of knotted threads from bristly fleece, that man, in vexation, casts before the saint's feet. The deacon removed a little, rejoicing, he hastily wraps his precious limbs in so cheap a covering. Thus, seeking the altar, the hero goes far more elegant in this garb—just as, when the king returns after wars, a soldier, dripping with sweat and dust, runs to meet him, more beautiful for these honors, the uglier in face and limbs.

For the work precedes the appearance of virtue, as the strength of the deep root passes through the seasons of the leaves. Nor did doubtful conjecture soon prove this vow. For while with solemn request he heaps up devout gifts and accompanies his immortal vows with sacred words, a ruddy flame shone forth from his bright crown, pouring splendor on his head, harmless to his hair, stretched upward with a clear span and reaching on high, breaking through the liquid air with a fiery furrow. Go on, then, continually, glory driven by the wheeling of titles, thus roused with the easy course of virtues, so that, running utterly into joys with loosened reins, you may enter upon things to be begun before you leave behind things closed.

A certain wealthy man, Euanthius, although bound by these tenacious chains of the world's cares, nevertheless of unimpaired faith and kindly heart, preserving a sense pure from earthly crime, with his marrow utterly consumed by a vehement fever, shaking his trembling vitals with frequent panting and breaking forth sighs with a sobbing throb, suppliant with the confused murmur of his parched tongue, and impeding the quill of his voice with the gum of his dried palate, often striving with broken speech to signify his feeling, asks that the pitiable importunity of his entreaters might obtain for him the swift coming of the saint; and that, if anyone is goaded either by care for his suffering or by the love of piety, seeking the remedies of health, he should approach this man alone: that the sight of Martin surpassed all medicines for renewing the seasons of life.

Nor does delay slow the just vow. He believed, by the divine gift of the longed-for signs, that this faith was sufficient. Soon the thing itself proved it. Hardly had even half the labor's part been traversed (a great part of the road remained) when grace forestalled the one coming. It sent ahead the gifts of hoped-for health, the swifter virtue preceding the slow limbs. He met the physician in good health. Both rejoice in body restored, in salvation transfused into their hearts, while the cure of the flesh grew by the merits of faith. Therefore, when the cause of all delays was removed, wishing to return at once, overcome by much entreaty, he granted the space, prayed for, of a single day. But what had been brief in space was ample in virtues: an undertaking not cramped compensates for the cramped time.

For a boy, whom by chance an evil serpent had lethally struck with its blow, infected with the gall of venom—when now the venom distended his livid limbs, and the serpent's raging evil, drunk deep even into his very vitals, as if death were accomplished, dissolved his languishing eyes in an infernal sleep—the master himself, bending his devout back to a just labor, bore him to the true patron's holy footsteps, not doubting, by his merits proved through so many tokens, that he could, by present touch, drive off the venom—he who at his coming had put diseases to flight by terror alone. Nor was there delay before the wound, touched by the medicine of his right hand, purged the limbs frozen with foul venom: and wherever the holy hand ran through the body, death fled, but life returned. Soon the gathered plague withdrew to a single spot.

Then, by the wound alone, the commanded venom thronged to burst forth at once; and the boy, steadying his footsteps with fearless effort, with undaunted steps ran while the Lord rejoiced. By this reward you return, these gifts you receive, reckoning the happy gifts of added salvation. What time was empty of virtues, even in the very embankment? What road did not seek heaven, though a sojourner on the lands? The shepherd was traversing the folds of the flock committed to him, the folds in which a devout church enclosed the rustic people, lest perchance the wiles of thieves or the rabidness of wolves might snatch the incautious sheep with the guardian removed.

Meanwhile, perhaps having left his companions a little behind, going on ahead he made his way where the public highway stretches out its raised mass over the level lands lying flat, so that the road, made solid and raised with laid stones, might turn the spilled rains into the hollows set beneath, and the heavy wheel-rut might not sink in the hard path, and lest the sunken carts should swallow the muddy depth, but the whirling of the wheels might scarcely graze the topmost ridges of the highway, marking no track with any furrow, but betray itself from afar by the ringing of the struck iron—this road Martin was making, gone a little ahead, when suddenly he saw approaching, with a mighty whirlwind, a hurrying carriage, which by chance bore men swollen with the terror of military service. No order could compose their frenzy, no reason their insane mind.

Ambition, drunkenness, clamor, frenzy, anger, tumult mingled their unordered breasts with varied monstrous things; and amid the breathless mules and panicked drivers, the blows of the strikers resounded, the words of the shouters. There was no law of standing still, nor did care of danger slow their swift course over the plains, over the heights. To such men, then, the saint, different in dress and in face, came to meet them. The beasts feared the awesome face of the one opposing them. The trembling mules gave way from the middle of the highway with a saner breast, their trembling bodies bound by the entangled reins: as once, the reading tells, the ass scorned its profane master, forbidden to curse the holy people, pressing his crushed foot with leaning body. Then indeed those whose hearts were suffused with insane venom leap down.

There is hope of their vow, a cause given for raging: they dared to stretch even sacrilegious right hands against the holy man, and vied to crush the devout body with blows—the innocent, the solitary, the meek, the calm, the patient one. Angry, unstable, many, swollen, frenzied, they drive on, hold back, crush him, who utterly offered no words against the blows. His face grows wet with blood, his bruised breath bursts his battered breast, his livid throat blackens, its windpipe broken, and his languishing eyes, by the light of Christ alone, weigh the present darkness. By the gloom of night his sight fails, but hope shines in his breast. When the companions, therefore, had beheld their master in such a state, the breathless crowd grows pale at the sight of their patron, stretching out humble right hands for support and fixing gentle kisses on the bloody limbs.

Then they hastened to leave the grim place of dreadful slaughter. The little ass, made to carry beneath it, took up the venerable burden, ready to bear its accustomed load. But with body bent the half-dead burden wavered, leaning upon its limbs, and now, on the very point of falling, it threatened uncertain mishaps. Meanwhile, their hearts sated, their fury spent, the men returned to the carriage. From there, more swiftly, they drove the beasts to break forth in headlong leap, so that whatever delay there had been in the deadly slaughter, they might at once make up by a whirlwind of rapid course. But in vain they applied these efforts. Rooted to the spot, the beasts rebelled against the savage command. Bound fast, the mules grew stiff at their master's will, fixed as in the likeness of statues. Then indeed his anger blazed worse with maddened tumult. Neither shouts nor whips availed. The battered flanks rang back the blows. They snatched the nearby woods for lashing.

Stones, stakes, cudgels, goads, whatever weapon each one found in his searching, his rage turned to blows and spent in striking. Yet these could not loosen the stiffened sinews nor stir the fixed limbs. You would believe the cold bronze, or figures pressed out from stone, had grown rigid. At last, when the frenzy was utterly consumed and broken, the frantic madness admitted a sound understanding, so that they knew the mules, bound fast amid so many lashings, were stiff by the judgment of God, and that the cause of the delay had come upon the wretches not without the divine will. Then at last, astounded by these portents and with their fury laid aside, mindful of their sin they asked who he was that with venerable body had received the blows of these sacrilegious assailants.

But behold, hearing the name of Martin, they ran up prostrate, their hair torn and fouled with dust, and bedewing their cheeks with a fountain of tears, they humbly twined their arms about his blessed feet, begging pardon and at the same time confessing their fault. Nor truly was long delayed the pitiable suit of the suppliants: his clemency cut short their lengthy weeping, and the gift of pardon outran the prayers of those who asked. Without delay the freedom to depart was restored: with a swift word he loosed the reins of the commanded delay. Tell me, what does the swift carriage of your king accomplish when God holds it back? Bring forth your brows gleaming with the rays of gems, and your coverings rough with bristles, the emblems of your virtues and the pomps of those who command. Then at least, taught by the weight of the saint's merits, set above your own king the dominion of his command.

Come, press on at once in a continuous course of the wreaths of virtues, recounting the story by composing it, my Muse, my priest, and my own genius. Touch the lyre of the heart, or of the lips, with your aid. Let those who speak madness, the frenzied, snatch the Muses to their raging breasts: let Martin be our guide. Such a change of mind is welcome to me; for such a fountain my inmost being thirsts. Let frantic breasts ask for the Castalian waters: other cups befit men reborn in the Jordan. Again the holy man was making his venerable way on foot, where the walls of Chartres lie amid open plains. So here, while he passed through the trackless ways of fruitful countryside, a just admiration filled a neighbouring village. Countless people gathered everywhere, every sex and age was present. So great was the man's glory that it stripped the fields bare of their tillers.

Now the care of their homes is less. To have seen Martin is enough. At this name the heathen too, rightly, were struck with awe, as with a title of praise, and although they had not yet received it by the power of faith, they came flocking in haste to the fame of so great a master. A thronging multitude pressed dense with country folk: a just admiration had covered the open fields. What a harvest of so great a crop of salvation, sown abroad, you would have rejoiced, in your desire, to lay up and shut within the entrusted enclosures, looking back upon the stalks emptied of the weight of grain! When suddenly a mother appeared, embracing the lifeless corpse of her son, beating against his vitals the gaping but useless jaws, and pressing her plaintive breast to his icy lips, alleging her trembling words amid sighs, and bedewing her pale cheeks with a river of tears. The mind full of God perceived the near gifts of the favouring God.

Grace quickened his pure understanding, that he might trust that so great a people was to be called to the divine rewards, the Lord's power being at least made manifest. Therefore, when the suppliant mother had laid the pitiable corpse of her dead son upon his blessed arms, the touched limbs began to move, the unsealed eyes to open, and little by little to grow used to the infused light; and the tongue, striking the moist quill of the palate, began to mark out from the throat a word pressed forth in speech: and rejoicing to hang its arms about his entwined neck, the child sought the embrace of Martin, neglecting its mother. Open your spacious bosom, enriched by the peoples you have received, and rejoicing embrace the people added to you, O bride of God, snatching the whole world to your heart. But you, O idols, long reeking in your wretched tombs, mourn at last the triumphs you ought to rejoice in.

What hearts did not yield to you, holy one, as you taught? What savagery was not made gentle? Although always, even in kings themselves, the clemency of the Lord Christ going before would soften the rigour set against your prayers. But more fierce than the rest, terrible by the vice of pride and wrath, Valentinian governed the throne; and when Martin as a suppliant often approached him as ruler, pleading a difficult cause beneath a harsh prince, the king, ever offended by the persistence of the petitioner, lest he should often strike his barred ears with complaints, ordered the holy man to be kept out at the doors.

He, rebuffed, left the turbulent inner chambers of the hostile king, preferring rather to knock at the threshold of the eternal Christ and to enter that hall which grants their right to kings themselves, enclosing their times within fixed bounds, binding even their stiff mouths with strong bridles. Therefore his whole mind returns to its accustomed rigour, afflicting the thin flesh on his wearied body, goading the gnawed skin with a bristly covering, leading the day in fasting, the darkness in watching, and joining both times in continual weeping. And if ever his eyes had yielded to brief sleep, the bare ground laid beneath was enough for a thin slumber, until Christ, pitying the sorrow of his holy foster-child, sent solace to his afflicted friend, comfort conveyed by tender speech.

For an angel, gliding down from on high, spoke these words of the Lord's command: 'Come, press on, and enter secure into the barred hall. Nothing is closed when God shows mercy. The royal court of heaven lay open to you in prayer; these earthly barriers shall lie open too.' Without delay, with so great a sponsor of the divine favour, his faith was sure. Undaunted he sought the threshold of the tyrant, which had to be entered. The guard of the swollen king gave way, and the arms set as a watch of dreadful threats. When the king suddenly saw him from his high throne, he was struck dumb, astonished at the sight, and trembling looked threateningly at his servants from the royal seat. Meanwhile, that he might take comfort despising the saint, deigning him no honour as he stood near at hand, he pressed the seat set under him with his motionless limbs.

But behold, with a swift whirlwind of crackling flame, a fierce avenging fire, sent by the divine gift, wrapped about the king's throne and the part where he sat. Then at last, leaving the flames with a swift leap, trembling he planted his footsteps with his limbs shaken loose, glad to render back to the holy man the honour he had wrested away, and with gentle affection to remove the cause of his entreaty, submitting his unkind breast to the saint's commands and bending his now docile conduct to the bidding words. Then too he heaped up generous gifts in royal abundance. But the mind, rich in God, willed to take nothing of the world's wealth, leaving behind earthly rewards, but storing up the gifts of the eternal Christ.

Now, since these meanest of songs in commonplace words have burst into lofty palaces with humble verse, in the next part of my discourse, as Christ shall grant, we shall speak of the high summits of kings made subject to the merits of the saints. After Maximus, as the page of the book now traversed has noted, had purged the crimes of the empire he had taken upon himself, he prudently strove to keep, by constant attentions, the favour he had begun. For thus he rejoiced to summon the holy man, desiring to drink a faith made fruitful by the stream of the divine word, to draw the nectar-sweet liquor of doctrine from the fountain of his blessed mouth, to learn the titles of the saints and the deeds of the godly: what battles they sweated through in their striving, what rewards the victors gained, what glory receives the just, what punishment the guilty; how the clemency of the Father cherishes, how much the sentence of the King affects.

To him who asked such things, the saint, rejoicing with him, unfolded each one and recalled the light, casting out the darkness. But not inferior to so great a husband, the queen surpassed the devoted king by her diligent obedience. Always hanging upon the lips of him as he told his sacred story, and scattering tears in abundance beside his footsteps, she matched the merit of her who with blessed hair, first washed with tears, wiped the footsteps of the Lord. But she counted these things small; girt apart by a special affection, preparing to serve, that she alone, the happy queen, might set the tables, the attendants being sent away. Nor before, contending often with her united husband, did she cease from her prayers, until by continual weeping and unceasing entreaty she compelled the saint to yield to her repeated requests.

She sets the table, places the chair, of her own accord brings linen for drying the hands and water for washing, and the dishes which, rejoicing in service, she had cooked, she hastens herself to bring forward in conspicuous baskets. And however much, never wearied in her duty, she had been free, she supplied the continuous toil of standing by her strength, and for the reward of so great a labour she had the venerable gift of gathering up the fragments of crumbs, with which the precious food of faith might fill her holy hunger at a touch. O happy woman, who by your virtue prefer these to royal treasures and wealth, choosing rather to serve the blessed man than utterly to excel the whole world, referring to the name of a handmaid the honour of one who reigns! Not the temples gleaming with starry gems changed your mind, nor the silks stiff with glowing threads, nor gold more precious than woven purple.

By the merit of so great a faith, O queen, you have equalled her who, sublime in the honour of a like throne, came from the ends of the earth to know Solomon, and having gone far forth, sought in him what she held within herself. You bring forth the riches of your heart through love of the wise word, catching by hearing what you might retain in a docile mind. Such an one, you have trodden down the obstacles of the subject world, a woman made equal to the titles of the men of old. For often haughty pride, alone refusing the yoke, has conquered unconquered kings in many a deadly contest. Rightly therefore you received the special gift of the saint, that, the rigour being a little softened and laid aside, the gentle secrets of his heaven-like heart might lie open to you. How many, though his brow was relaxed with but a little serenity, did it clemently bid sit down — those billows of wrath!

How many storms did that more temperate breeze calm, and the fair weather, though gleaming but briefly amid the clouds! How many guilty ones did this table, what bonds did liberty, granted in small measure, loose; what great chains did a brief hour shake off, relaxing its own rigour! For time, person, and place attend upon wise counsels and govern the mind by sudden reason. Nor hold up to me, you envious one, the names of the feminine sex: not the limbs but the heart shall furnish merit. Nor is the nature of man the less, since grace is equal; nor does any nation differ in merit of faith, nor sex and age, man and woman, slave and free, stranger and heir. The merit of the believer prevails, not the glory of the flesh.

Finally, what I have learned this sex to have merited by faithful zeal, desiring to touch upon in brief tokens, whatsoever Christ shall grant I will unfold in this discourse. While the holy man, going forward, was making his venerable journey, as day declined into night he sought a neighbouring dwelling, and being received under the roof of a rejoicing village, he hastened to seek the inner sanctuary of a holy temple. And here, as always, the guest of the blessed threshold allowed his weary body to rest a little, relaxing his drooping eyes in a brief sleep, that, renewed at least by a short and modest slumber, his most slender limbs might suffice for continual labour, and might bear the watchful mind through their supports. But when the light, shining forth from the night, had passed through the darkness, all the works being duly and solemnly performed, again he hastily takes his way.

Then indeed a faithful throng of maidens, whom holy virginity had consecrated to the Lord, untouched in flesh and chaste in heart, lest the frail corruption of the flesh should press toward earth their mind hastening to the heights of heaven, burst joyfully into the inner sanctuary of the holy cell, blessed by his pious lodging, and drew in the fresh airs and absorbed with their breath the breezes he had imbued. Then with humble obedience they adored the seat of the teacher, and with the service of their lips they hastily marked each several place — those which his feet touched as he stood, those which his limbs touched as he lay, those blessed by holy food, those pressed by his sitting, or those set beneath the limbs of him praying as he lay prostrate.

But when, seeing the straw of the blessed bed, they felt the hay warmed by his pious body, with violent modesty they vied for the booty they had found, while each one snatched a part for herself, and with their bosoms filled the light stalks of the pressed straw pricked their breasts, and the thin garments kept off the wisps from their goaded bosoms. What would true faith not do? By chance one of the virgin band, no less chaste in heart than in body, when a demon, holding a certain wretched man under his violent power, was forcing him to break forth into the frenzies commanded, driving out the sound understanding from the captive breast — trusting in the help of God and the merit of the patron, wisely lavish, she fastens a portion of the snatched booty to the wretch's jaws, and hangs upon the neck of the raving man the hay, pressed by the blessed body.

And without delay, at the touch the enemy, suddenly terrified, fled like a fierce fire from the dry stubble, unequal to the stalks touched by Martin's body. And yet, so often dashed down and so often put to flight, you dare, madman, to attack in changed forms, to try the man you have proved, and to bear before his venerable eyes — concealing your appearance — to display your fury. For sitting upon the back of a beast and shaking the wanton animal with frenzies, and plunging himself into its vitals, by his deadly rage he had cast off the nature of the beast.

Or when you pressed the back of a captive heifer, that it might bear not only on its body the monster imposed upon it, filling with the fury infused through its beleaguered limbs, and fitting its service to the motions of the raving fiend, scattering a bloody dew from its shaken head, while red drops ran over its smooth temples, and fiery horns went before its angry brow, and the frequent breath scarce panted out its alternate gusts, and with bent knee it raised a cloud of dust, and the trembling foot scattered the fine sand upward. Indeed, having raged here and there amid the fleeing herds, gentle at the sight of the holy man, its rider put to flight, the heifer stood still, and its burden cast off, but its mind restored, joined itself, rejoicing, to its companion troops.

Cease now at least to plunge yourself into the flocks of Christ, since the holy man has left you no rights even over the cattle. We yield: the glory of his virtues, brought forth rather by illustrious deeds, surpasses the trembling words of the speaker, and is to be proclaimed not by the sounds of the tongue. Let poets bring obscure things into light by telling: we are overcome by the light of his praise, and oppressed by so great a splendour we hide. And would that the glory of so illustrious a patron, being touched upon, might make our night thin out a little, lest we cover the light of the history with a dark heart, and lest the sins of the speaker diminish the title of his praise. What heart was not made calm before the saint, what rebellious wrath, what savagery was not made gentle?

The Molossian hounds felt his command, when the wanton youth, ranging in the hunt over the open expanses of the wide plains, would shake them, snatching, in swift leap, now the level ground, now the steep. The hoofed steeds, hastening, were drenched with much sweat, and breathed out thin airs from their open nostrils. The hoof resounded, driven on with terrifying beat, leaving a dusty cloud swift behind their tracks. Nor was so swift a course of the wingèd horses enough. Their hanging breasts so matched their downward-bent brows, that the slowness of the steeds delayed the desires of the riders, and the motion of the drivers outran the course of the bearers. The eager Molossians strove to equal the winds, and by zeal for conquering to fill the frenzy of the spectators, and the trembling gasp shook their tongues hanging far out from the opened throat with alternate breaths.

This great labour, this expense — whither, alas, does it come out? What fruit, what use is there in seizing the fleeting little beasts and rejoicing in the flight of the frightened hares? You wisely despised such a frenzy, Martin, pitying the sad mishap of the harmless creature, making the dogs' gaping mouths and their trembling steps grow numb. Now if perchance he had relaxed his close rigour, with which he was wont to dissolve the cares of his companions with the salt of words, and to refresh a little their attentive ears, shrewd in his gravity, witty in his religion, sprinkling the virtue of his heart with the flower of charm — seeing a swineherd covered with a garment of skin, 'Behold,' he says, 'a second Adam!

Such a covering veiled the naked father, wrapping his chilled limbs and affording small solace to his new shame, when, after the deadly poison of the Tartarean venom, he perceived the slippery hissings deceiving his body. But us, stripped utterly and utterly buried in the old sin, may new grace again clothe.' Likewise, with the fleece stripped off and shorn of its wool, he looked smiling upon a sheep. Then straightway from there, taking examples of teaching in order from the deed: 'See, the lowly two-toothed beast has fulfilled the commandment. Of two garments it handed over one to him who asked, unwilling to keep the former while another grows in its place. But how shameful it is for us to have yielded to a brute beast, if it conquers us, more bountiful, with prodigal wealth.' But on the other side the backs of the meadows lay open, marked with a different aspect.

One part, dug under, had endured the devouring swine, and the black backs had lost their green colour with the upturned clods. But another part, shorn down to the bare gnawed turf, the herds had stripped with sad hunger, and the mouths of the cattle, devouring with downward heads, had taken away the mantle of the rich earth, while the dewy grasses were cropped with wide bite, drawn to the curved jaws by the roughness of the tongue, which licking before gathers the tender herbs, that the greedy teeth might cut down the thickened fodder. Nor less had the hoof, with pressed horn, trodden down and crushed the green shoots with frequent blows. Another part nature was adorning with various beauty, blooming, unharmed, with the turf of the field. The green grasses waved in a thin breeze, and the light breath stirred the struck herbs.