GREGORY: Another man of venerable life was likewise in those same parts, Fortunatus by name, bishop of the church of Todi (Martyrology, 14 October), who abounded in an immense grace of power for putting demons to flight, so that not seldom he drove legions of demons from possessed bodies, and, intent upon the pursuit of continual prayer, overcame the multitudes of them arrayed against him. A most intimate friend of this man was Julian, the defender of our church, who not long ago died in this city. From his account I too learned what I relate, because he was often present at that man's deeds by the boldness of familiarity, and after his memory he kept them in his mouth, like the sweetness of a honeycomb, for our instruction.
A certain noble matron in the neighbouring parts of Tuscany had a daughter-in-law who, within the short time after she had married her son, had been invited together with the same mother-in-law of hers to the dedication of the oratory of the blessed martyr Sebastian. But on the very night whose following day she was to proceed to the dedication of the aforesaid oratory, overcome by the pleasure of the flesh, she could not abstain from her husband; and when, morning having come, the perpetrated delight of the flesh terrified her conscience, while shame commanded her to join the procession, blushing more at the countenance of men than fearing the judgment of God, she went with her mother-in-law to the dedication of the oratory.
But as soon as the relics of the blessed martyr Sebastian had entered the oratory, a malignant spirit seized the daughter-in-law of the aforesaid matron and began to torment her in the presence of all the people. Now the priest of that same oratory, when he saw her being most violently tormented, at once took a linen cloth from the altar and covered her with it; but the devil suddenly assailed him too. And because he had wished to presume something beyond his strength, he was compelled to recognize in his own torment what the matter was. But those who were present carried the girl, lifted in their hands out of the oratory, to her own home.
And when the ancient enemy vehemently harassed her with continual torment, her kinsfolk, loving her carnally and by loving persecuting her, in order to obtain a remedy of health handed her over to sorcerers; that they might utterly destroy her soul, whose flesh they were trying by magic arts to benefit for a time. So she was led to a river and plunged into the water; and there for a long while the sorcerers laboured to work by incantations, so that the devil who had entered her might go out. But by the wondrous judgment of Almighty God, while by perverse art one is driven from her, suddenly a legion entered into her. And she began to be agitated with as many movements, and to make an uproar with as many voices and cries, as the number of spirits by which she was held.
Then, a plan having been formed, her parents, confessing the guilt of their own faithlessness, led her to the venerable man Bishop Fortunatus and left her with him. Having received her, he gave himself for many days and nights to prayer; and he pressed upon his prayers with as great effort as he found the battle-line of a whole legion standing against him in one body. When, after not many days, he restored her so sound and unharmed, as though the devil had never held any right of his own over her. At another time too, the same servant of Almighty God cast out an unclean spirit from a certain possessed man.
When this malignant spirit, as the day was now growing toward evening, perceived the hour secret from men, feigning himself to be some wayfarer, he began to go around the streets of the city and to cry out: 'O the holy man Bishop Fortunatus! Behold what he has done—he has driven a stranger and traveller out of his lodging. I seek where I ought to rest, and in his city I find none.' Then a certain man was sitting with his wife and little son by the coals in his lodging, who, hearing his voice and asking what the bishop had done to him, invited him into his lodging and made him sit with him by the coals. And when they were conversing together of various things, the same malignant spirit assailed his little son and cast him into those same coals, and there straightway struck out his life.
That wretched, bereaved man then recognized both whom he himself had received and whom the bishop had driven out. PETER: What are we to say this means, that the ancient enemy received the daring to kill in the lodging of him who, esteeming him a stranger, had called him to himself for the sake of hospitality? GREGORY: Many things seem good, Peter, but are not, because they are not done with a good intention. Whence also in the Gospel the Truth says: 'If your eye be evil, your whole body shall be dark' (Matthew 6:23). For when the intention that goes before is perverse, every work that follows is depraved, although it may seem to be right. For I judge that this man, who while, as it were, showing hospitality was bereaved, was not delighted by a work of piety, but by disparagement of the bishop;
for the punishment that followed made known that the preceding reception was not without fault. For there are some who therefore strive to do good in order to overshadow the grace of another's work; nor do they feed on the good which they do, but on the praise of the good by which they crush others. Wherefore I reckon that this man, who received the malignant spirit in hospitality, aimed rather at ostentation than at the work, so that he might seem to have done better than the bishop; namely, that he himself might receive the one whom the Lord's man Fortunatus had driven out. PETER: It is as you say; for the end of the work proved that the intention in the working was not sound. GREGORY: At another time too, when a certain man had lost the light of his eyes, he was led to him and sought the aid of his intercession,
and obtained it. For when the man of God, having made prayer, imprinted upon his eyes the sign of the cross, from them, the light being at once restored, the night of blindness departed. Moreover, the horse of a certain soldier had been turned to madness, so that it could scarcely be held by many; but whomever it could attack, it would tear their limbs with its bites. Then, bound as best they could by many, it was led to the man of God. As soon as he, with hand outstretched over its head, made the sign of the cross, he changed all its madness into gentleness, so that it became milder than it had been before its frenzy. Then the same soldier decreed that his horse, which he saw transformed from its madness by the most swift command of the miracle, should be offered to that same holy man.
When he refused to receive it, and the soldier persevered in his entreaties that his offering should not be despised, the holy man, holding a middle course between the two, both heard the soldier's petition and refused to receive the gift for the power he had shown; for he first provided a worthy price and afterward accepted the horse that was being offered to him. For, because if he did not receive it he saw that the man would be grieved, compelled by charity he bought what he did not need. Nor ought I to keep silent about this among the powers of this man, which I learned nearly twelve days ago. For a certain poor old man was brought to me; and, since conversation is always wont to be pleasant to me, I diligently inquired of him whence he was, and he answered that he was of the city of Todi.
I said to him: 'I beg you, Father, do you not know Bishop Fortunatus?' He said: 'I know him, and know him well.' Then I added: 'Tell me, I pray, if you know any of his miracles, and make known to me, who desire it, what kind of man he was.' He said: 'That man was far different from these men whom we now see. For whatever he asked of Almighty God, he obtained even as he asked. Of him I relate this one miracle, which comes to my mind at present. For on a certain day the Goths came near the city of Todi, who were hastening to the parts of Ravenna, and they had carried off two little boys from an estate, which estate lay under the aforesaid city of Todi.'
When this had been announced to the most holy man Fortunatus, he at once sent and had those same Goths summoned to him. Addressing them with gentle speech, he first strove to appease their harshness, and afterward went on to say: 'What price do you wish me to give? Give back the little boys whom you have carried off, and bestow on me this gift of your favour.' Then the one who seemed to be the foremost among them answered, saying: 'Whatever else you command, we are prepared to do; but these boys we will by no means give back.' The venerable man gently threatened him, saying: 'You grieve me, my son, and you do not listen to your father: do not grieve me, lest it turn out ill for you.' But that Goth, remaining in the ferocity of his heart, departed in refusal.
But on the next day, about to depart, he came again to the bishop, whom the bishop again entreated with the same words on behalf of the aforesaid boys. And when he would in no way consent to give them back, the grieved bishop said: 'I know that it does not profit you that you depart having grieved me.' The Goth despised these words and, returning to his lodging, sent ahead those same boys of whom the matter was, set upon horses along with his own men. He himself then, mounting at once, followed after. And when he had come, in that same city, before the church of the blessed Apostle Peter, his horse's foot slipped; it fell together with him, and his thigh was straightway broken, so that the bone was divided into two parts.
Then, lifted up in men's hands, he was brought back to his lodging. In haste he sent and brought back the boys whom he had sent ahead, and he charged the venerable man Fortunatus, saying: 'I beg you, Father, send your deacon to me.' When his deacon had come to the man lying there, he brought forth into the midst the boys whom he had utterly refused to give back to the bishop, and he gave them back to that man's deacon, saying: 'Go and tell my lord the bishop: Because you cursed me, behold, I am struck down; but the boys whom you sought, receive, and for me, I pray, intercede.' So the deacon brought the boys, now received, back to the bishop, to whom the venerable Fortunatus at once gave blessed water, saying: 'Go quickly and pour it over the body of him who lies there.' So the deacon set out,
and, having entered in to the Goth, he sprinkled the blessed water over his limbs. A wonderful and exceedingly astonishing thing! As soon as the blessed water touched the Goth's thigh, all the fracture was so consolidated, and the thigh restored to its former soundness, that in that same hour he rose from the bed, and, having mounted his horse, so pursued the journey he had begun, as though he had never suffered any injury of the body. And so it came to pass that he who, being subject to obedience, had refused to give back the boys to the holy man Fortunatus for a price, gave them without price, subdued by punishment. These things therefore being ended, the old man was still eager to relate other things about him. But because some were present whom I was occupied in exhorting, and the hour of the day had now grown late, the venerable Fortunatus's deeds
I was not able to hear at length, though I always wish to hear them, if it be permitted. But on another day the same old man related about him a thing yet more marvellous, saying: 'In that same city of Todi there was a certain Marcellus, a man of good conduct, who dwelt with his two sisters; who, an affliction of the body coming upon him, on that most sacred Paschal Saturday, when evening was now falling, died. Since his body was to be carried a good distance for burial, it could not be buried on the same day. And when there was a delay of time for fulfilling the duty of burial, his sisters, afflicted by his death, ran weeping to the venerable man Fortunatus, and began to cry out to him with loud voices:
'We know that you hold to the life of the apostles, you cleanse lepers, you give sight to the blind; come, and raise our dead brother.' As soon as he learned that their brother had died, he too began to weep for his death, and answered them, saying: 'Depart, and do not say these things, because it is the command of Almighty God, which no man is able to contravene.' So, when they had departed, the bishop remained sad because of his death. But on the following day, the Lord's Day, before the twilight of the rising dawn, having called his two deacons, he set out to the house of the dead man; and, coming to the place where the lifeless body lay, he there gave himself to prayer. When the prayer was completed, he rose and sat down beside the body of the dead man;
and, not with a loud voice, he called the dead man by name, saying: 'Brother Marcellus.' But he, as if lightly sleeping, being roused by the near voice, however faint it had been, at once opened his eyes, and, looking toward the bishop, said: 'O what have you done? O what have you done?' To whom the bishop replied, saying: 'What have I done?' And he: 'Two men came yesterday who, casting me out of the body, led me to a good place; but today one was sent who said: Bring him back, because Bishop Fortunatus has come to his house.' With these words finishing, he presently recovered from his sickness and remained in this life for a long time afterward.
Yet it is not to be believed that he lost the place which he had received, because there is no doubt that by the prayers of his intercessor he was able, after death, to see better, who even before death had striven to please Almighty God. But why do we say many things about his life, when even now, up to his very body, we hold so many proofs of his powers? For to loose the possessed, to heal the sick as often as it is asked in faith—what he was accustomed while living to do unceasingly, this he continues even by his dead bones. But it pleases me, Peter, to bring back the words of my narration still further to the parts of the province of Valeria, concerning which it befell me to hear very many miracles from the mouth of the venerable Fortunatus, of whom I made mention far above (namely, at the beginning of the chapter).