How Friar Bacon saved a Gentleman who had sold himself to the Devil for Money, and put a Trick upon the Old Deceiver of Mankind.

When Friar Bacon flourished at Oxford, a young gentleman, by his prodigality, having run out his estate and involved himself in debt, grew exceeding pensive and melancholy, purposing to make himself away, in order to put an end to his miseries and the scorns that were put daily upon him by his former companions, being also utterly cast off by his friends; so, walking by a wood side, full of sorrow, he met, as he thought, an old man in good clothing, who saluted him and demanded the cause of his melancholy, and why he walked so solitary. At first he refused to tell him, as thinking he could do him no good; but the other urging it, promised to assist him if he wanted anything. He said, "I am in want. I want fine clothes, as I used to have; I want money to buy food, pay debts, redeem my mortgaged land, and many things more. Can you help me to enough to do it?" "I can," said the old man, "on one condition." "What's that?" said the gentleman. "If it be anything tolerable I shall not refuse it, for I cannot be well worse or in greater hardship than I am now." "Why," said the other, "the matter is not so much; you shall only oblige yourself when I have furnished you with money to do all you have named and you have paid every one you owe a farthing to, to become obedient to me, and be disposed of at my pleasure." Now the young man, taking him for a usurer, and very rich, supposed this obligation was only a fetch to marry his daughter or some kinswoman of his, which he could be well contented to do, not doubting to have a good portion, and therefore scrupled not to do as he desired. Upon this he bid him meet him the next morning, about the same time, when he would have the writing ready; and on signing he should have the money. So they parted, and the gentleman delayed not coming, without asking advice, and was as punctually met; but when he saw the writing in blood he was startled a little, but the old man told him it was only a whim of his own to have it so written to distinguish it from other men's, and put his debtors more in mind to repay the money he lent them. Upon this speech, and the gentleman's seeing store of gold and silver brought by three or four of whom he supposed to be servants, he believed it. "But how," said he, "shall I write with the same?" "Oh," said he, "let me see. I'll prick your right vein," which he did, whilst the gentleman found an unusual trembling and an inward remorse in his mind. However, taking the bloody pen in his hand, he desperately subscribed and sealed the writing. Then, telling the money into a cloak bag, he laid it on his horse, and they, with much ceremony, took leave of each other. The gentleman laughed in his sleeve to think how he would find him out, seeing he had not asked, nor himself told him, where he lived.

Soon after he summoned all his creditors, paid them to a farthing, redeemed his land, went gallant, and recovered his esteem in the world; but one evening as he was looking over his writings in his closet, he heard somebody rap at the door, when, opening it, he saw the party he had borrowed the money of, with the writing in his hand, who told him he was now come to demand him, and he must now go along with him; for to his knowledge he had paid his debts, and done whatever was agreed to. The gentleman, wondering how he should know this so soon, denied it. "Nay," replied he, fiercely, "deny it not, for I'll not be cheated of my bargain," and thereupon changed into a horrible shape, struck him almost dead with fear, for now he perceived it was the devil. Then he told him if he did not meet on the morrow, in the same place he had lent him the money, he would come the next day and tear him to pieces. "And," says he, "if I prove not what I say, you shall be quiet"; and so vanished out of the window in a flash of flame, with horrible bellowings. The gentleman, seeing himself in this case, began to weep bitterly, and wished he had been contented in his sad condition, rather than have taken such a desperate way to enrich himself, and was almost at his wits' end.

Friar Bacon, knowing by his art what had passed, came to comfort him, and having heard the whole story, bid him not despair, but pray and repent of his sins, and he would contrive to show the devil a trick that should release him from his obligation. This greatly comforted the gentleman, and he promised to do whatever the friar should order him. "Then," says he, "meet at the time appointed, and I will be near. Offer to put the decision of the controversy to the next that comes by, and that shall be myself, and I will find a way infallibly to give it on your side." Accordingly he met, and the devil consented to put it to arbitration. Then Friar Bacon appearing, "Lo," said the gentleman, "here's a proper judge. This learned friar shall determine it, and if it goes against me, you have free liberty to do with me as you please." "Content," said the devil. Then each of them told their story, and the writing was produced, with all the acquittances he had taken; for the devil, contrary to his knowledge, had stolen them and the other writings belonging to his estate out of his closet. The friar, weighing well the matter, asked the gentleman whether he had paid the devil any of the money he borrowed of him. "No," replied he, "not one farthing." "Why then," said he, "Mr. Devil, his debts are not discharged; you are his principal creditor, and, according to this writing, can lay no claim to him till every one of his debts are discharged." "How! how!" replied the devil, "am I outwitted then? O friar, thou art a crafty knave!" and thereupon vanished in a flame, raising a mighty tempest of thunder, lightning, and rain; so that they were wet through before they could get shelter. Then Bacon charged him he should never pay the devil a farthing of his debt, whatever shape he came in, or artifice he used to wheedle him out of it, and then he could have no power over him. The gentleman on this, living a temperate frugal life, grew very rich, and leaving no children at his death, bequeathed his estate to Brazen Nose College, because Friar Bacon, a member of it, had delivered him from so great a danger of body and soul.