There once lived a king of Rome, who, out of charity to the blind, decreed that every subject of his that was so afflicted, should be entitled to receive a hundred shillings from the royal treasury. Now there was in Rome a club of men who lived for the world alone, and spent all they had in rioting and eating. Seven days had they continued revelling in one tavern, when the host demanded to be paid his bill.Every one searched his pockets, but still there was not enough to pay the reckoning.
“There still wants one hundred shillings,” said the innkeeper; “and until that is paid, ye go not hence.”
These young men knew not what to do, as they were penniless. “What shall we do?” said they one to another. “How can we pay so large a sum?” At length one bethought him of the king’s edict.
“Listen,” said he, “listen to me; does not the king give one hundred shillings to every blind man that applies for it?”
“Even so,” said the rest; “but what then? we are not blind.”
“What then?” rejoined the young man. “Come, let us cast lots who shall be made blind, that when he is deprived of sight we may take him to the king’s palace, and obtain the hundred shillings.”
So the young men cast lots, and the lot fell upon the man who had proposed this plan. And the rest took him, and putting out his eyes, led him to the king’s palace. When they knocked at the gate, the porter opened the wicket, and demanded their business.
“Business,” said they; “see ye not our companion is blind? he seeks to receive the king’s benevolent gift.”
“The blindness is rather sudden,” muttered the porter, who knew the young man by sight. “Well, well, I will fetch the almoner.”
So the almoner, who distributed the king’s charity, came to the gate, and looking on the young man, asked him what he wanted.
“A hundred shillings, which my lord the king gives to those that are blind,” replied the youth.
“Thy blindness is very sudden,” rejoined the almoner; “when did it happen, and where? for I saw thee yesterday with both eyes perfect in the tavern by the city wall.”
“Last night, noble sir,” replied the blind man, “last night at that tavern I became blind.”
“Go fetch the host,” said the almoner sternly, “we will look into this matter more fully.”
So when the innkeeper came, he inquired of him how the matter was; and when he had heard all their deeds, he turned to the young man, and said—
“Of a surety thou knowest but half the law, and dost interpret it wrong; to such as are blind by God’s act, does our gracious king give his charity; such the law protects and relieves. But thou—why art thou blind? Thinkest thou that thou dost deserve to be rewarded for voluntarily surrendering thine eyes, in order to dischargethe debt thou and thy companions had contracted by gluttony and rioting? Begone, foolish man: thy avarice hath made thee blind.”
So they drove away the young men from the king’s gate, lamenting their folly and wickedness.
“There can be little doubt,” said Herbert, “what moral the author of this tale intended to teach. The king’s gift clearly illustrates God’s reward for forgiveness, to those that by natural infirmity and temptation fall into sin; as the withholding it from the glutton, is meant to teach us how difficult it will be to obtain the forgiveness of voluntary sin, done out of pure wickedness.”
“You have found out the monk’s moral rightly in this tale, Henry; but I think you will not be so successful in that which I now propose reading to you—the story of