“Who would have ever said that amid the horrors of prison I would find a true friend to console me?”—Boethius to Patricius.

“All by prayer and penitence
May be at length forgiven.”

Ballad of Sir TannhÄuser.

There once lived in Florence a young man who was not really bad at heart, but utterly selfish, especially to his relations, and was without heed or feeling as to the sufferings of others. And, it being in his power, he wasted all the income of the family on sport, letting his brothers and sisters endure great privations; nor would he have cared much had they starved. He was like all such people—frivolous and capricious. If he met a poor child in the street, he would give it a gold crown, and then let all at home hunger for days.

One day his suffering mother went to Virgilio, and, telling him all about her son, begged the master, if it were possible, to reform him.

Virgilio said to her: “I will indeed do something which will bring thy son to his senses.”

The young man was named Adelone, and Virgilio, meeting him the next day, said:

“If thou wouldst fain see a strange thing indeed—such as thou hast erewhile prayed me to show thee by my art—then be to-night at twelve in the cloister of Santa Maria Novella, where thou wilt see and learn that which it is most needful for thee to know. But to behold and bear the sight thou muse be bold, for a faint heart will fail before it.”

Then Adelone, who, to do him justice, was no coward, did not fail to be in the cloister of Santa Maria Novella at the appointed hour. And as the last stroke of twelve was heard, Adelone saw before him the spirit of a young man named Geronio, who had died one year before, and who had been, as one like him in all respects, his most intimate friend. They were always together, and what one did the other joined in; both were reckless wasters of money, and selfishly indifferent to their families. And as Adelone looked at Geronio he saw in the face of the latter such an expression of awful suffering, that it was a torture to behold him. And Geronio, seeing this, said:

“Depart now, for it is time; but this night I will come to thee and remain with thee till morning.” [55]

And Adelone was glad to have seen Geronio once more, but greatly grieved at finding him in such suffering.

That night he was in his room, which was on the ground, and at the appointed hour the spirit came. And, looking with awe at his friend, Adelone said:

“I see that thou art in pain beyond all belief.”

“Yes,” replied Geronio; “I suffer the greatest agony, such as no mortal could endure. But I pray you come with me.”

Then the two sunk softly down into the earth, ever deeper and deeper in silent darkness, until Adelone saw that they were in an immense cavern, all of gray ice, dimly lighted, with dripping icicles hanging from the roof, and all the floor was covered with dirty, half-freezing water, under which was a bed of stinking mud, and over all was an air of sadness and wretchedness beyond description.

“This is my home,” said Geronio; “but it is as nothing compared to what I suffer in my soul—which is a thousand times more terrible than anything which mortals can imagine, for they have no idea of what spiritual torture is like, because they always think of pain as bodily. But know that I had rather be beaten or burned in fire for a year than suffer for an instant the remorse which I endure.”

“Can anything be done to help you?” asked Adelone.

“Yes, all can be done; and you can save me and not only give me peace, but do as much for thyself, and thereby escape what I have suffered. If thou wilt lead a good and loving life—good and kind to all, especially to thy family and friends, no longer wasting money and life on selfish follies, no longer neglecting duty and acting as an egoist—thus thou canst give me peace, and rescue me from this inferno. But woe unto thee, shouldst thou promise this and fail to keep thy word. For when thy time cometh, as come it will, thou wilt suffer as I do—yea, with redoubled remorse.”

Then Adelone, looking about him, saw many sad shades of men and women wandering or wading through the icy water; all people who had lived for themselves alone, all waiting till someone as yet alive should, by good conduct, save them. And none spoke, for they were doomed to silence. So they looked at one another, and passed on, and such looks were the only thing like comfort allowed them.

Then Adelone fell, as it seemed to him, asleep, and when he awoke he was in his own room, but he well knew that it was no dream which he had beheld. And from that hour he was another man, becoming as good as he had been bad, living to make all others happy, and devoted in every way to his family. And thereby he became for the first time truly contented.

Six months passed, and one night at twelve o’clock, on awaking, he saw before him Geronio, who no longer seemed to suffer as before, though there was still in his eyes something terrible.

“How is it with thee?” asked Adelone.

“Far better. Come with me.”

Then Adelone found himself in a great castle, which seemed like a free prison, which was grim and without comfort. Many souls were in it, but they were walking about together, or resting and conversing, apparently in no suffering. It was a joyless place, but not one of torture, nor was it filthy. [57]

“We do not suffer so much here,” said Geronio. “We have still much remorse, but at least we have the consolation of being able to converse one with another, and enjoy sympathy in sorrow.”

“What do you talk about?” asked Adelone.

“Chiefly about the people whom we hope will set us free. I talk of thee, because all my hope is in thee. I think of nothing else by day or night.”

Then Adelone returned to his home. After six months he beheld Geronio again. Again he found himself in a castle, but the spirits were conversing happily, many were singing hymns, they had guitars and mandolins, and here and there were vases of flowers which gave forth delightful perfume.

Geronio said to him:

“Here we are happier still, and, believe me, friend, if thou canst in this life make others as good as thou art, to love their relations and friends, and cease to be selfish, thereby everyone can save another soul, and win great reward for himself.”

Adelone replied:

“I truly will do all I can to content thee.”

From that day he did all that he could, not only to do good himself, but to cause others to act like him. Six months after this Geronio came to him and said:

“Now that I know that thou art truly good, learn that I am at peace. And as thou hast been the means of giving it to others, know that in future all good spirits will aid thee!”

It is not enough not to be a sinner. He who does not take care and pains and labour earnestly to make others happy will be punished as an evil-doer. He who does not love (us) is an enemy.

It is to be remarked in this, as in all the other tales from the same sources, when a moral end or plot is to be worked out, it is done without benefit of clergy or aid of priest, or the Church. For these are legends of the witches and wizards, who have ever been the foes, and consequently the hated and afflicted, of the orthodox. It is a curious reflection that as it has been said that the last savage in America will die with the last Indian, so the strega, or witch, will remain to the end a heathen. And I find curious emotion in the thought that what I have gathered, or am gathering, with such care, is the last remainder of antique heathenism in Europe. Superstitions there are everywhere, but in this kind Italy is alone.