Then lend me now your little boat, The woman she leapt into the boat, The king of the crocodiles there was seen, The young prince crocodiles crawl'd about. The woman shook every limb with fear, She fell upon her bended knee, And that's the loss that makes me wild. A crocodile ate him for his food, I know that you, sire! never do wrong; You have done well, the king replies, I have no tail to strike and slay, GOD'S JUDGMENT ON A BISHOP. Here followeth the History of HATTO, Archbishop of Mentz. It hapned in the year 914, that there was an exceeding great famine in Germany, at what time Otho, surnamed the Great, was Emperor, and one Hatto, once Abbot of Fulda, was Archbishop of Mentz, of the bishops after Crescens and Crescentius the two and thirtieth, of the archbishops after St. Bonifacius the thirteenth. This Hatto, in the time of this great famine aforementioned, when he saw the poor people of the country exceedingly oppressed with famine, assembled a great company of them together into a barne, and like a most accursed and mercilesse caitiffe burnt up those poor innocent souls, that were so far from doubting any such matter, that they rather hoped to receive some comfort and relief at his hands. The reason that moved the prelate to commit that execrable impiety, was because he thought the famine would the sooner cease, if those unprofitable beggars that consumed more bread than they were worthy to eat, were dispatched out of the world. For he said that those poor folks were like to mice, that were good for nothing but to devour corne. But God Almighty, the just avenger of the poor folks quarrel, did not long suffer this hainous tyranny-this most detestable fact-unpunished. For he mustered up an army of mice against the archbishop, and sent them to persecute him as his furious Alastors, so that they afflicted him both day and night, and would not suffer him to take his rest in any place. Whereupon the prelate, thinking that he should be secure from the injury of mice if he were in a certain tower, that standeth in the Rhine, near to the towne, betook himself unto the said tower as to a safe refuge and sanctuary from his enemies, and locked himself in. But the innumerable troupes of mice chaced him continually very eagerly, and swumme unto him upon the top of the water to execute the just judgment of God, and so at last he was most miserably devoured by those sillie creatures; who pursued him with such bitter hostility, that it is recorded they scraped and gnawed out his very name from the walls and tapistry wherein it was written, after they had so cruelly devoured his body. Wherefore the tower wherein he was eaten up by the mice is shown to this day, for a perpetual monument to all succeeding ages of the barbarous and inhuman tyranny of this impious prelate, being situate in a little green island in the midst of the Rhine, near to towne of Bing, and is commonly called in the German tongue, the Mowse-turn.-Coryat's Crud. Other authors who record this tale say that the bishop was eaten by rats. THE summer and autumn had been so wet, Every day the starving poor They crowded around bishop Hatto's door, At last bishop Hatto appointed a day He bade them to his great barn repair, And they should have food for the winter there. Rejoiced the tidings good to hear, The poor folks flocked from far and near, Then when he saw it could hold no more, I' faith 'tis an excellent bonfire! quoth he, So then to his palace returned he, In the morning as he entered the hall, As he look'd, there came a man from his farm, Another came running presently, I'll go to my tower in the Rhine, replied he, The walls are high, and the shores are steep, Bishop Hatto fearfully hastened away, And reach'd his tower in the island, and barr'd He laid him down and closed his eyes- On his pillow, from whence the screaming came. He listen'd and look'd;-it was only the cat; For they have swum over the river so deep, To the holes and the windows in the wall. Down on his knees the bishop fell, The saw of their teeth without he could hear. And in at the windows, and in at the door, They have whetted their teeth against the stones, BISHOP BRUNO. "Bruno, the Bishop of Herbipolitanum, sailing in the river of Danubius, with Henry the Third, then emperour, being not far from a place which the Germanes call Ben Strudel, or the devouring gulfe, which is neere unto Grinon, a castle in Austria, a spirit was heard clamouring aloud, Ho, ho, Bishop Bruno, whither art thou travelling? But dispose of thyselfe how thou pleasest, thou shalt be my prey and spoile.' At the hearing of these words they were all stupified, and the bishop with the rest crost and blest themselves. The issue was, that within a short time after, the bishop feasting with the emperor in a castle belonging to the Countesse of Esburch, a rafter fell from the roof of the chamber wherein they sate, and strooke him dead at the table."Heywood's Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels. BISHOP BRUNO awoke in the dead midnight, Bishop Bruno smiled at his fears so vain, He started up at the fearful dream, And he heard at his window the screech owl scream! Bishop Bruno slept no more that night, Oh! glad was he when he saw the daylight! Now he goes forth in proud array, Before and behind his soldiers ride, So he went on stately and proud, When he heard a voice that cried aloud, Ho! ho! Bishop Bruno! you travel with glee- |