dulcedine cantus. Monuit socius ire: noluit. Recedente socio
remansit solus illectusque cantu domum intravit. Undique vocatus
sedit sedensque cum aliis potavit. Et ecce preco exploratorem
civitatis fugientem sequens post ilium domum protantium intravit.
Invento exploratore in ilia domo ipse et omnes capti sunt. Hic,
inquit, hospitium huius exploratoris fuit: hinc exiit, hue rediit;
omnes conscii et socii huius fuistis. Ducti sunt omnes ad patibulum,
et clericus inter illos magna voce praedicabat omnibus: Quisquis
iniquae gentis consortio fruitur, procul dubio mortis immeritae
poenas lucratur.
The Voice of the Owl.[1]
"It is reported of two disciples that in going out of a certain city they came to a place where the voice of a woman was heard very distinctly, and the words of the song were well written and the music of the song was so arranged that it sounded beautifully and delightfully. One of them, stopped on account of the beauty of the song, but his companion said to him: 'Let's turn aside'. And they did it; for one is so far deceived by the song of a bird that he may be led to death. Then the one said: 'This voice is sweeter than that which my master and I heard long ago'. 'What kind of voice was that', asked the other, 'and how did you hear it?' 'It happened,' the companion said, 'that we had gone out of the city and we heard a very harsh voice in an unattractive song, and the words sounded discordantly; the one who sang repeated the words frequently and lingered over the unmelodious song as if it was delightful.' Then the master said to me: 'If it is true as men say, that the voice of the owl portends the death of some one, then that is without doubt the voice of an owl fortelling death.' To this I said: 'I wonder, if the song is so dreadful, why this man alone is delighted with it?' And he answered me: 'Dost not thou remember the philosopher who says: "Man takes delight in three things even though they may not be good: in his own voice, his own song, and his own son"?' After he told this about himself and his master they both went away."
A certain philosopher said to his son: "Follow a scorpion, a
lion, and a dragon, but do not follow a wicked woman." Another
philosopher said: "Pray God that he keep thee from the snares of
vile women, and be thyself on guard lest thou be deceived. For it
is said about a certain philosopher that in passing by the place where
a fowler had stretched a net for snaring birds, he saw a base woman
in wanton sport with the fowler and said to him: 'While thou art
trying to snare birds, be careful that thou art not caught in the filth
of the lime thou preparedst for he birds'."[2]
