THE THIRD CHAPTER, THE PILGRIMS TO THE HOLY LAND DURING THE MONTH OF JUNE, WHEREIN THEY REACHED THE BORDERS OF THE HOLY LAND.

[b] ON the first day of the month of June we began our sea-voyage. This day was the first Sunday after the Feast of the Blessed Trinity. On the morning of that day we arose very early, before sunrise, and carried all our property into a large boat which we had hired, and which lay at the door of our inn. After bidding farewell to everyone in the house, we embarked, and passing through the Grand Canal beyond the city, proceeded to St. Nicholas on the Lido. Here we left one to guard our things in the boat, and entered the church. It is a great church, with a monastery of Benedictine monks adjoining it. I inquired for the sacristan, and asked him for the wafer bread which he had promised us, and also asked him to supply us with a bottle of good wine besides the sacramental wine, and to place it on the altar. I then put on my sacred vestments and went to the altar, where I said the Mass appointed for Sunday, in the presence of the pilgrims. After Mass I blessed the wine which had been brought in the bottle with the blessing of St. John the Evangelist, and gave it to my lords the pilgrims to drink for the love of St. John, that our journey might be happy and successful. After this had been devoutly performed, we again embarked in our boat, and sailed out of the harbour of Venice between the two castles which guard the entrance to that port; for our galley lay in the sea about a mile beyond the harbour. As we were going a foul wind got up, and so hindered us that we took nearly two hours in getting to the galley, and that with great difficulty. When at length we came thither, we went up the steps, and found her full of people, and our companions, whom we had sent thither in advance four days before, were very weak, because the ship, which, as she lay at anchor, was tossed about in various directions by the force of the wind, had made them sick. However, when they saw us they rejoiced, and began to get better, and they told their lords about the bitter hardships of the sea, of which they had had a small taste. On that same day a knight begged me to come back with him in a boat to the city to fetch a long chest which he had had made for himself to fit his berth, that he might sleep thereon at night, for he was too proud to lie on the floor, and his berth was in such a place that he could put a chest into it. So we both entered the boat and returned to Venice, and after receiving the chest we brought it to the galley, but with difficulty, because the wind was against us. It was late in the evening when we brought the chest down into the cabin, and the knight placed it in his berth with joy, hoping that he would sleep well thereon. But had he known the future he would by no means have been glad, but would have been cast down, and refused to be comforted; for upon that very chest did [57a] that knight die a cruel and horrible death. Howbeit, he did not belong to my company, but to another. We now arranged our berths and beds to sleep in, with much disorder and labour and disputing, because we were not yet used to it. When it was dark, and all the lights were out, and everyone silent, lo! a most violent wind sprung up, which tossed the ship and made us frightened and uneasy. As we lay silent and asleep in the darkness and terror, of a sudden a nobleman, who was frightened at a dreadful dream, began with a loud voice to scream as horribly as though he had been run through with a sword. At his shouts everyone on board awoke, and being sleepy and in the dark, they fell into disorder, supposing that this knight must have been stabbed by some robber. The nobles rose and tried to find their swords in the dark. Others tried to make their escape, fearing that some evil had been prepared for the pilgrims, and a dangerous riot took place throughout the galley's main cabin. But the man who lay next to him who had cried out, understanding what had happened, cried out with a loud voice, bidding every man lay himself down again in his own place, and so that night passed with its disturbance. The captain had not yet come on board the galley.

On the second of June, before sunrise, the captain came with his servants and all his household, bringing with him some pilgrims whom he had lately received as passengers on board. Among these was a Fleming with his wife. When this woman came on board many were vexed at it, because she was the only one on board, for before her there was no woman among us, but Master Augustine, the captain of the other galley, had gathered together all the women on board of his vessel. There was no one on board of our galley who was not displeased at the coming of this old woman, and at the thought of one woman having to dwell alone among so many noblemen, especially as she seemed when we first saw her to be restless and inquisitive, as indeed she was; for, to tell the truth, those seven old women in whose company I made the voyage before, as you may see on p. II, made less noise and were seen less than this one old beldame. She ran hither and thither incessantly about the ship, and was full of curiosity, wanting to hear and see everything, and made herself hated exceedingly. Her husband seemed to be a decent man, and for his sake many held their tongues; but had he not been there it would have gone hard with her. This woman was a thorn in the eyes of us all.

Now, when we were all on board, and day had dawned, some sailors were ordered to dress the galley, and they hung seven large silken banners from the castle on the poop, and from the top, and they adorned the top¹ itself with a piece of tapestry all round it [b] The first and largest banner was that of the lords pilgrims to the Holy Sepulchre, and it was white, with a red cross running from one end of it to the other. The second was the banner of the Lords of Venice, the banner of St. Mark, and it also was white, with a red lion, beneath whose fore-feet was the sea, and beneath his hind-feet the land. The third banner was that of Our Lord Pope Sixtus 1V., and was of the colour of the air, with a green oak-tree bearing golden acorns, and the two Apostolic keys. The fourth was that of the captain, of divers beauteous colours. The fifth showed the arms of Venice and those of the captain together; and there were two other banners, both alike, white with a black lion. After the galley was dressed they began to get ready to start, because we had a fair wind, which was blowing the banners up on high. The crew began with a loud noise to weigh up the anchors and take them on board, to hoist the yard aloft with the accaton² furled upon it, and to hoist up the galley's boats out of the sea; all of which was done with exceeding hard toil and loud shouts, till at last the galley was loosed from her moorings, the sails spread and filled with wind, and with great rejoicing we sailed away from the land: for the trumpeters blew their trumpets just as though we were about to join battle, the galley-slaves shouted, and all the pilgrims sang together 'In Gottes Nahmen fahren wir,' just as may be read on page 78. Meanwhile the galley ploughed powerfully through the sea, and we soon left the city of Venice, from whose port we started, far behind. We were as glad to leave it as if we had been let out of prison, for we steadfastly desired to go to Jerusalem. The ship was driven along so fast by the strength of a fair wind, that within the space of three hours we were not able to see any mountains, any part of the earth, any shore, or any piece of the whole dry land, but we had only the sky and the waters before our eyes; for we had come so far out on the high seas in that short time that we had risen above and higher than the highest Alps, and could not see them, they being now, as it were, low down with the sea's curvature interposed between them and us. Being now out of sight of the world, the crew took down all the ornamental dressing of our ship, and gave it an everyday look as they made it ready for work. After midday, when we had eaten, we saw on our left hand towards the north the mountains of Istria, which is a country belonging to the province of Dalmatia, and we wished to put in thither into the harbour of Parenzo, because our fair wind had ceased to blow. Howbeit, we were not able to reach Parenzo, but passed it by, yet we did not make good way, for as the [58 a] day ended, the wind ended also, and all night long we remained without moving forward, but uneasily rocking and tossing about.

On the third of June at daybreak there rose a wind which was utterly foul, and we were forced to turn towards the mountains of Istria. By great efforts we escaped from the contrary wind and drew near to the mountains, bringing our ship into the port of Rubina (Rovigno), two miles beyond Parenzo, where was the other captain with his pilgrims. This port of the city of Rubina is not a frequented one, but is safe and rich. In this harbour the captain did us the favour of refreshing us with dinner, because we came into it at dinner-time, which, nevertheless, he was not bound to do, seeing that we were in a good port, where we might have provided for ourselves. After dinner we went down from the galley into the boat, had ourselves rowed to the city, and went up to the cathedral church, where we prayed to God and St. Euphemia the Virgin, whose entire body lies there buried in a great marble tomb, which tomb the superior of the cathedral opened for us, and showed us the sacred corpse. How it came to pass that St. Euphemia of Chalcedonia was translated hither, and what this city of Rubina is like, and about its harbour, I will tell you as I return. We stayed in the town until supper-time, and supped there at our own charges in an inn. We had a good supper, after which we returned to our galley, hoping that during the night we should set sail; but that fond, I dare not call it wicked, wind blew all night, making it a very restless night for us; and though our ship was fastened both by anchors and moorings, yet the wind tossed it violently and made us very sea-sick.

On the fourth the wind was not fair, so we rowed away from the galley and went to the church of St. Euphemia, where we read and heard Masses, and after Mass dined with our host. Our inn was a tiny hut, which we hired from a poor man, wherein my lords' cook prepared for us the food which we bought for him. There was plenty of all things to be had there, but there are no inns in that country as there are in ours; and what inns there are are most wretched, not having either pots or pans or kettles; nay, not so much as dishes or spoons. Wherefore in large towns noble pilgrims are forced to enter common houses of ill-fame, wherein necessaries are to be found, as I have said before, on page 56 a. Pilgrims suffer many hardships owing to the want of inns; especially those who have no furniture of their own to cook with. After dinner we took boat to an islet, that is, a little isle, and to the church of St. Andrew, which stands thereon. Round about the church is a little monastery, wherein once were monks of the order of St. Benedict. When they left the place the Minorite Friars took it, and own it, and have built a fair convent thereon, after the fashion of their order: moreover, they have planted the islet itself, and made it as it were into a paradise. From hence one can get wood and other things needful, seeing that the soil of the islet is rich and fertile, and the land, like that of nearly all isles, is fruitful.³

So after we had walked about this aforesaid isle for some hours under the guidance of the brethren, we returned to the monastery and were entertained at a meal there out of kindness, for which the Lord John the Truchsess liberally recompensed them when we left. During the meal I recognised one of the brethren, whom I had seen during my first pilgrimage on Mount Sion, where he was vice-guardian, and he also remembered me, and greeted me with kindness. From him I received some advice. When we had finished eating we re-embarked in our boat, and reached Rubina with great difficulty, for the wind was contrary. We had supper in the town, and intended to stay away from our galley all night, and ratter sleep on benches than on board, because we passed miserable nights on board the galley when she was riding at anchor and tossed by the wind. Howbeit no sooner was supper over than the captain had his trumpet (buccina) blown, which was the signal for all to return on board. When we heard this we went back on board. That same evening, before sunset, our pilots weighed the anchors, loosed the galley from her moorings, and sailed out of the harbour, although there was no fair wind at sea: for they had seen afar off Augustine with his galley, and feared lest he should get the start of us: wherefore we made this useless attempt. For as soon as we got outside the harbour we were driven a long way out to sea by a contrary wind, and so we passed that night tossing on the waves and uncomfortable enough.

On the fifth, as the same wind lasted, we were carried through the waves into the worst part of that sea, which is called the Cornerus (Quarnero), wherein those who sail are always in danger, because the sea there flows with an exceeding swift current towards Ancona, and ships have to be withheld by their sailors with great care and great labour from following the sea, which, however, sometimes draws them violently along and dashes them into the port of Ancona, with great peril to the ships and all on board. While in that gulf [b] we saw the mountains which separate Dalmatia and Croatia from the kingdom of Hungary, and Hungarians, who are going on a pilgrimage to Our Lady of Loretto, take- ship there and sail to the place of the Blessed Virgin. Now, on that day we made very little way, and yet the ship continued all the time in violent motion; and it is very wonderful to one who is unused to the sea how a ship when running along very swiftly can yet make no way on her course worth considering. As night came on, the foul wind became stronger, and we passed a most unquiet night, wherein most of the pilgrims became very ill; for though dizziness of the head, upsetting of the stomach, and violent and grievous vomiting was the lot of all, yet some were made weaker than others thereby. As the storm waxed fiercer the sailors wanted to gybe the mainsail, and the yard was already raised up above the 'top' of the mast, with the accaton furled round it, but when they let the yard fly round on the other side, the sail came loose, and fell upon the oars on that side. As the wind now suddenly filled the sail, and was raising it up with great force, it stuck among the oars, and the ship leaned over so much to that side that the yard itself touched the water, and the mast, and, indeed, the galley herself, threatened to go over on that side. Wherefore there was much running to and fro and shouting on the upper deck, and we down below in our berths fell over to the opposite side, and the captain in the poop made ready to save himself, and ordered the ropes which held the small boat to be cut, that it might fall into the waters so that when the ship sank he might jump into it. The pilgrims down below did not know this. Had they known it, there would have been terrible confusion, from the hurry with which they would have run up on deck. Howbeit this business, with the help of God, was peacefully brought to an end, the wind lifted the sail clear of the oars, and the ship began to sail along as before. But if the ship had been overthrown upon her side, as she was on the point of being, none of the pilgrims in the main cabin could have escaped death.

On the sixth the wind was still foul, and we were sorry that we had left the port of Rubina. We again headed the ship towards the mountains, that we might enter some port therein, and there wait for a fair wind. On mountains which are near the sea stand marks whereby mariners know where safe harbours are to be found, and where they may come near to the land; and unless they see those marks they do not dare to bring these great ships near to land. Having seen one of these marks, and being sure of a harbour, and of being able to come close to the land, we pointed our prow towards the mountains, came between two walls of rock, and brought the vessel into a valley wherein we found a safe harbour; so we cast anchor, and moored the ship to the rocks, and so made her fast. A harbour is nothing more than a place in the midst of hills and mountains, in which a ship can lie without being vexed by the wind; yet it is not its security alone which constitutes a harbour, but furthermore it is needful that the sea therein should be deep. To make a harbour there is no need that there should be human dwellings near it [68a], but it suffices that ships should be able to lie there safe from the blasts of the wind, whether the place be inhabited or no. This harbour was in a deserted spot on one of the isles called Assaro,⁴ and was surrounded on all sides by precipices and rocky mountains. After having dined on board we asked for the boat to be lowered into the sea, and rowed ashore, where for pastime we walked about the isles Upon it there grew sweet-smelling herbs, fine small sage without measure, and agnus castus. After crossing some hills we came to fields of barley, and we were glad, hoping that we were near some farm where we should find fresh bread find eggs for sale, and walking farther along the road we came to a miserable hut, wherein dwelt some exceeding poor Sclavonians, who had nothing at all in their house save some roots, which they dried in the sun, ground up into flour when they were dried hard, and baked into bread. They gave us some of this bread, but it was tasteless and very black. There was no other house on the isle save this one. When we had seen all this we returned to the shore over against where our galley lay. Many found the shore duller than the ship, and these went on board again. I with several noblemen remained on shore, took pains to give my companions the slip, and climbed up a mountain alone to look about me. Here I saw not far off one habited as a Preaching Friar running towards me; wherefore I ran to meet him, and, greeting him, inquired whence he came, and whither he was going: but this poor friar knew no tongue wherein to speak with me, neither Latin, nor Italian, nor German, for he was a pure Dalmatian or Sclavonian. He was on his way to the galley to beg.

* * * * *

After this I came down to the seashore, where I found one of our crew plucking a herb which grew out of the crevices of the rocks, which he said was most tasty in a salad, and said that it was called, porcella. It was nice to taste, salt and sharp flavoured (acetosa) like a nasturtium, but fatter and of greater substance. I wondered how so good a herb could have grown out of rocks sprinkled with salt, for the whole seashore is sprinkled over with salt, because in storms the salt water is splashed over the rocks, after which the sun shines upon that water and dries it into salt, and the nature of salt is to make land barren: yet this herb, contrary to the nature of all plants, grows in salt. So I collected some of it to take on board the galley. I also found boughs of the finest agnus castus, which I took, that by its scent I might drive away the stench of the ship from my berth. About this plant see an account at greater length in Part II., p. 189. Naturalists, and especially Albertus Magnus, [b]Dye Veget. Tractatus, i., c. 5, tell us that this shrub is called agnus castus because its juice, flowers, and leaves are useful for the promotion of chastity, since by their heat they dry up the substance of seminal humours and the wind which extends the generative organs. Wherefore the Grecian sages caused this herb to be strewn on the floors of their houses, that chastity might flourish among their matrons. This, too, is said to have been the teaching⁵ of Pythagoras, because this plant is wont to render a man mild and chaste even as a lamb. For this cause the priests of the Sun and the virgins dedicated to the service of the goddess Vesta, whose religion embraced the vow of chastity, used to strew leaves of agnus castus on their beds and in their houses. I knew this plant from boyhood, for I learned about it at Basle, where it grew in our convent garden, and had been planted there by someone who came from the sea at the time of the Council of Basle. It was said that it could not be transplanted, but would only grow in the place where this man had put it; but this is not true, for at the time when I was cursor⁶ there, I plucked off a branch with a part of the root, and planted it in the infirmary garden, where it grew into a great shrub. It has leaves somewhat like a willow, but they are softer and less stiff; its flowers are like lavender, and therefore it is called the 'sea-willow,' and has a nice, sharp, wholesome scent. Some, however, abominate its scent, and cannot endure to smell it So at sunset I returned on board the galley, taking with me my porcella herb for a salad, and my agnus castus for scent and for an ornament to my berth. On my return I did not join my companions at supper, but made myself a salad of the porcella, on which I supped and was content therewith. As night came on, the contrary wind grew stronger, and blew so hard that we were imperilled even though we were in harbour, and the mariners were forced to get out more ropes to moor the vessel, for squalls swept across the open sea and dashed against the precipitous rocks round about us, reaching even to where we lay. About midnight there arose a most terrible storm with violent wind, thunder, lightning, and heavy rain, so that the rain-water ran down into our berths: so we had no rest that night, and much fear, though we were in a harbour; for the water dashed so violently against the sides of the galley that it was a wonder that any wood could endure such blows.

On the seventh was no weather for a good voyage, so after dinner we again went ashore in the boat as we had done the day before; not all of us, but some, whereof I was one. But it was only with difficulty and danger that we could get from the galley into the boat, for the sea was rough, and tossed both the boat and the galley up and down. Wherefore the boatmen did not dare to bring them boat near to the galley, for fear that the wind might dash it against the side and break it to pieces; for it was raised aloft by the waves higher than the galley, and then again sank down so deep, that we on board of the galley could not see it because of the waves between us. [61a] In such weather as this whosoever wishes to get -out of a galley into a boat must stand on the steps of the galley, and watch carefully until the boat comes so near to the galley that he can reach it by a leap, for the men will not allow the boat to come nearer than this; and he must leap the instant it comes so close, for unless he leaps, the next moment it is carried further away from the galley by the waves, and when he does leap into the boat he cannot save himself from falling, either forwards or backwards, on his face or his back, and those on board of it lift him up. This is one of the greatest and commonest dangers to which pilgrims are subject, but though it appears hard at first, yet as soon as a man gets accustomed to it he does, as a matter of course, what before he scarce dared to look upon or to think of for terror. I have seen women who at first were full of fears, and scarcely dared to look at the sea, who nevertheless became so bold by practice that they would venture to jump from a galley into a boat. At first a man thinks that he had rather stay on board the galley and endure the wretchedness of it than take a dangerous leap, and so get into a good and refreshing harbour; but after a man has been for many days battered by storms and hardships, and starved forwent of food on board ship, when he arrives at a good port he will dare five dangerous leaps rather than stay on board. There is the same difficulty, too, when the boat arrives at the shore; for if the shore be rocky and steep, the sailors dare not approach near it if the sea is at all rough; so one must jump a second time, either on to the rocks, or into the sea; and withal one must watch with great care for the reflux of the sea, for when it runs up it covers even high rocks. Wherefore in harbours there are generally serving-men who, when the sea flows back, run to the boat, and carry out those who will give them a penny. These men hurry lest the sea should catch them as it returns. He who crosses the sea sees these things and many more of the like sort. Now let me return to my story. I reached the shore together with some pilgrims and sailors, and we made a fire on the beach, and walked about the hills, and so passed the time until evening, and it was late when we returned to our suppers on board the galley, having overcome the perils of the leap from the boat to the galley.

On the eighth, which was the second Sunday after Trinity, the air still remained dark, and the wind contrary, so after dinner nearly all of us went on shore in the boat, and there some ran about over the pathless hills and mountains, while some sat still and talked, and we had a merry day. It was a blessing beyond compare on board of that galley, that there was peace and concord, friendship and unity among all the pilgrims. The contrary was the case on the galley of my first pilgrimage, whereon was anger, quarrelling, disputing, and much cursing, as may be seen on page 14b. So when the sun was about setting we returned on board the galley for supper, and that night [b] did not move, albeit the strength of the wind was dying away.

On the ninth, God brought forth from His treasures a good, fair wind, with which we were exceeding pleased. We raised the anchors, let go the (mooring) ropes, unfurled the sails and filled them with wind, and had no sooner left the harbour than we were wafted on to the high-sea, and before noon we came to a port in Dalmatia called Iadra (Zara). Here the captain furled the sails, let go one anchor, lowered a boat, and sent some sailors to the city with vessels to bring water, because the water which we had brought from Rubina had failed, and on the Assaro isles there was not one drop of drinkable water. The captain would not let any pilgrim leave the ship, as he meant to start again straightway. While we were at anchor here, lo! Master Augustine also came with his galley and passed us by; but for a long way we could see his galley out at sea, sailing before a fair wind. At this our steersmen were much vexed, because they had always intended and used all efforts in order that they might keep our galley in front of his even to the Holy Land, but here their project was brought to naught. When the water was brought on board we straightway followed Augustine, sailing along a very pleasant course wherein we had on either side villages, castles, and cultivated ground, and we came to Old Iadra, and saw its great ruins, and so with the help of the wind we made a fairly long journey that day. Howbeit, at sunset our fair wind dropped, and a foul one sprang up, to which we yielded, and pointed our ship towards the mountains, lest it should drive us any further from our path. When we came among the mountains we moored the ship in a desert harbour, and passed a night full of storm and terror because of the tempest, lightning and thunder whereof the air was full, which things are more disagreeable to people at sea than to those who dwell on the land. The name of that harbour is Oneum, and it is in Crawacia, which is a province of Dalmatia.

On the tenth there was no wind save a foul one early in the morning at sunrise, and we despaired of leaving Oneum that day; howbeit, two hours later the wind changed, and they unmoored the galley and worked her out of harbour with the oars. When outside at sea-we found a sidelong wind which was not of much use to us, which carried us sideways until after dinner. When dinner was over there arose a fair, strong and fortunate wind, which suddenly drove the ship powerfully along her true path over the sea That she might go faster the sailors hoisted the foresail (trinketum) above the maintop, and hung it to the neck of the maintop, above the mainyard. Moreover, they brought out the awning, or covering of the ship, with which sometimes the whole galley is covered from stem to stern to shelter it from the sun and rain, and spread it athwart the galley where the mast stands, under the sheet of the mainsail, reaching from one side to the other, and so caught all the wind from behind that they could to help us on our way. So we ran along very fast, and passed [62 a] the city of Lesina, and Cursola, and many others, about which, with God's blessing, I will tell you as I return. This fortunate wind and delightful run lasted all that day and the following night, during which we slept most peacefully, gliding swiftly and sweetly along, because the course of the galley was not sideways, but straight forward, which inclined us to slumber. For when the wind is quite fair, and not too strong, there is hardly any motion which those who are in the cabin can feel, because the ship runs along. quietly, without faltering, and both the pilgrims below and. the galley-slaves on deck sleep quietly, and all is still, save only he who watches the compass and he who holds the handle of the rudder, for these by way of returning thanks for our happy voyage and good luck continually greet the breeze, praise God, the Blessed Virgin and the saints, one answering the other, and are never silent as long as the wind is fair. Anyone on board who hears this chant of theirs would fall asleep, even though otherwise he could not sleep, just as restless crying children are lulled to rest by their mother's crooning song, when if all was still they would cry, and they go to sleep more because the song assures them of their mother's presence than because of its sweetness. Even so the pilgrims are more quiet because by this song they understand that the ship is sailing straight forward, and that all is well, than on account of the song itself; for they call out even as the watchmen of the city of Ulm do when they cry the hours of the night, which cry hinders no one from sleeping, but sends many restless folk to sleep.

In storms, when the wind is fair and strong, a ship runs violently and with uneasy tossing on its course with exceeding great swiftness, so fast that an arrow from a catapult or a bow cannot equal the pace of the ship. This the sailors often prove by standing at the stern with a bow and shooting towards the prow; the arrow falls shorthand the ship outruns it. The wind draws the ship along by its sails with such force that the sea-water seems to run to meet the prow, and the beak of the prow seems to be ploughing furiously up against the stream of a river, so that sometimes the water rises above the horns of the prow; for the water dashes so violently against the stern, that it often leaps even into the captain's own chamber, and the wind the while fills the sails and draws them so strongly that the water seems to run the contrary way, against the prow, whereas of a truth it runs against the stern with such swiftness that one's sight can scarce follow the speed of the sea. At least it seemed to me that an arrow when shot from a bow could not move as fast as the sea past the galley, and yet the galley moved ten times faster than the sea. Ships run with almost incredible swiftness when the sea and wind are in this posture. I believe that during a day and a night of sailing with a fair wind a ship journeys as far as from Cologne to Venice. [b] For while the ship is making slow way forward, and its progress is counted as almost naught, yet there is no horse so swift as to be able to gallop as fast as that slow movement of the ship, and when she is making scarce any way, no runner could keep up with her though she be only crawling. When, however, it chance that the ship scarce moves at all, or stops altogether, it is very grievous to those on board. So we that night with great swiftness, yet in fair weather, made great progress on our way. During this time there died a noble knight, a Hollander whose funeral we conducted as described above, on page 51, and buried him in the deep sea.

On the eleventh, which is the feast of St. Barnabas the Apostle, we continued to sail prosperously onwards, passing the city of Ragusa, the chief city of all Dalmatia and Sclavonia, which I shall tell you of when I return. On that day we saw the frontiers of the kingdoms, the place, that is, where the principalities of Dalmatia and Illyria, the duchy of Albania and Morea or Achaia, and the kingdom of Hungary, the kingdom of Bosnia, and Macedonia join Greece. For all these kingdoms reach down to the seashore, and form the boundary of Christendom towards the north, because Achaia, Albania, Bosnia, and Macedonia belong to the Turk. So we passed an enjoyable day, with a fair wind and fine views on every side. This day the sailors fished, because they had seen a countless multitude of great fish, which they have no means of taking save with an exceeding sharp spear with three points. They stand on the sides of the galley, and when they see a fish they quickly run him through and bring him out; and they do indeed hurt many, but they catch but few. Towards evening our fair wind fell light, but after sunset it grew as strong as before, and during the night all went well, and we sailed a great way.

On the twelfth we sailed along with a fair wind, far out at sea, away from the land. We saw the city of Scodrum, which they call Scutarum, which the Venetians last year gave up to the Turks by way of redress for their grievances, and passed Duracium (Durazzo), which is now a great city of the Turks, on whose site Constantine once determined to found Constantinople, as I will tell you on my return. We also passed the city of Lavilone,⁷ beside which a river runs out of the Turkish territory into the sea. Down this river the Turks sail from the bowels of their own land to prey upon the Christians. All that day we set all the sail we could to catch the wind, as I have said before that we did on the seventh. As the sun set our good wind grew stronger, and we took in some of our sail lest we should run too fast in the dark; and that evening we were all very merry, rejoicing, singing, and flute playing till it grew dark. [63 a] All night long we had a fair wind.

On the thirteenth, in the early twilight, the wind grew stronger and shifted to another quarter. The steersmen therefore shifted the sails, and when the yard was brought round the ship suddenly heeled over on one side, and almost all the pilgrims, who were still lying in their beds, were shot out of them, and there was great alarm in the cabin, but on deck there was no cause for fear. When the sun rose we saw on our left the isle of Corziri, which they call Corphu, which is the beginning of Greece. This island we quickly passed, because the plague was raging therein, and as we went on our way we entered the sea of Epirus, and had Apulia and Sicily on our right hand. On that day we prosperously passed many Turkish islands and left them behind us. But when the sun set our fair wind fell, and that night we scarcely made any way at all, whereat we were vexed, because Sunday was near and we had hoped to be at Metona (Modon) on that day, and to hear Mass there; but the devil was not willing that we should do this.

On the fourteenth we went on our way and saw the mountains of Achaia, close to where is the city of Patras, where St. Andrew was crucified, and here at sunrise we stood still, having no wind to help use After dinner there came a feeble wind, which made the galley crawl slowly along towards the city of Metona, which they call Modon, whither we wished to go. Towards evening there sprung up a strong fair wind, which took us out of sight of the Samafra⁸ isles, and carried us on towards the mountains of Morea to the province of Carenza,⁹ after which we came to Belventor. When it grew late we saw on our left the rich country of Achaia, which belongs to the Turks. On our right hand we saw an island without mountains, which they called Strivale (Stamphane). On this island dwell Greek monks of the rule of St. Basil, whom the Turks have never been able to drive out from thence, though they have had many battles with them. For, as soon as the Turks come, the monks rush out with arms and put to flight all who attack them; this they have done so often that the Turks no longer dare to go thither to fight them. We sailed towards this island, and passed it, leaving it on our left. When night came on our fair wind fell, and we made very little way that night.

On the fifteenth, which was the third Sunday after Trinity, and the feast of St. Vitus and St. Modestus, when the sun rose, the galley-slaves begun to work the galley along with their oars, because the wind was not fair for the harbour of Metona, [b] from which we were not more than one German mile distant. By great labour we got into it about eight o'clock in the forenoon. Straightway we got into the boat and rowed to the city, where we found the pilgrims who sailed with Master Augustine. I took my lords and some other pilgrims to the church of the Preaching Friars, and there we heard high Mass.

The prior of that place and the other brethren knew me well from my first pilgrimage. After Mass was over we went to the house of the bakers, where biscuits are baked for seafarers, wherein dwells an old German, and there we had our dinner cooked, and dined. The other-pilgrims went over to the house of the Teutonic lords,¹⁰ and there provided a meal for themselves. After dinner we went up to the walls of the town and walked round upon them, and admired its impregnable fortifications. It is not an island, but part of the mainland, whereof the whole belongs to the Turks. On my return I shall tell you more about this. In this port lay also the galley of Master Augustine, and all his pilgrims were in the city, so we made a happy and merry fellowship with them, though this displeased the captains, who thought that because they had quarrelled and were at enmity one with another, even so we ought to be tainted with the same venom, and ought to avoid each others company. But we took no heed of this, and both ate and drank together with them, and we brought them on board and showed them our galley, and they took us to see theirs, and so we spent the day together until vespers, rejoicing with each other at having met in the middle of the sea; for the city of Modon is said to be midway between Venice and Jerusalem. About vespers both patrons blew their horns to call their pilgrims on board, and when we heard this signal we all went on board the galleys. That same evening Augustine and his pilgrims left the port, but we remained there until the morrow. This city I shall describe on my return.

On the sixteenth, before it was fully light, the slaves rowed the galley out of the harbour as far as the corner of the mountain, where we committed her to the wind, and entered the Malean sea, passing by the city of Corona, which stands on a lofty rock. After mid-day there arose a strong wind, and we sailed fast towards the roots (sic) of Malea without let or hindrance, and doubled the cape there without any trouble, which does not often happen: for in that place one almost always meets with dangers and difficulties. We sailed all night long with that wind, passing by many reefs and rocks with good fortune: for that sea is very hard to navigate without the good luck of a fair wind. [64 a]

On the seventeenth we sighted the isle of Crete, Candia, or Centapolis. In the afternoon of this day the wind fell light, and we were rolled about hither and thither by the waves without making any way, and could not reach Crete that day. The other captain, Augustine, avoided Crete and sailed from Malea to the Cyclades Isles; but our captain did not like to pass by Crete, because he wished to visit the Lord Patriarch of Constantinople, who holds the archbishopric of Crete. This same patriarch was a Venetian, and was the father of our captain, wherefore he decided to touch at that isle. But lest the pilgrims should make this a ground for complaint against him, he brought out that day a piece of silken stuff, called atlas, worth ten ducats, for them to play for at cards. This stuff was won by the Lord Ber von Hohen Rechberg, one of my lords. And there was that day a great deal of secular moneymaking on board of the galley over different games; for every day deep and sinful gambling went on among the nobles with cards and dice, and one would lose, and another would win, and there was great debauchery, albeit without quarrels. I know some young knights and noblemen who brought with them so great a sum of money that they meant to go on to St. Catharine's, and they had enough to do so; but by means of this accursed gambling they were brought to such need and want, that they could not afford to travel even as far as Jerusalem, and had not their comrades helped them, they must have gone home without receiving their knighthood. On festival days, when I preached the Word of God on board of the galley, I rebuked those gamblers long and bitterly, and some by God's grace I turned away from their sin, while others I rendered all the more hardened therein; and every day from morn till dark they would sit gaming, with fifty, sixty, a hundred or two hundred ducats lying on the table as the stake for one single game. So on that day there was much rejoicing, as fools rejoice, in our company, at our having won that piece of silk.

On the eighteenth after sunrise we got a light wind, which slowly moved the ship towards Crete. About noon we saw an armed galley cruising not far from us, and our master-at-arms called it to us in the following fashion: He shot a cannon towards it; on hearing the sound whereof they who steered it straightway turned its prow towards us, and brought it alongside of us with their oars. They then lowered a boat, and the captain and master-at-arms of that galley came on board of ours and talked for some time with our captain and steersmen; for this galley also belonged to St. Mark of Venice, even as ours did. This is a custom at sea, that when two or more galleys sight one another, that one which holds itself to be chief among them calls the other in the aforesaid manner. If the galley be Venetian, the greater calls the less, and the lesser must come into its presence. If the galley be not Venetian, nevertheless, if it comes when called, it is well; but if it comes not, then straightway that which called it bears down upon it with all speed, and hastens to wage war against it, [b] getting ready its cannons, bows, darts, and catapults. When the other vessel sees this, if it is afraid, it lowers its sail as a sign of submission and friendship. If it does not lower its sail, it is a sign that it means to resist and fight, and then both vessels make ready for battle. Towards evening we arrived at Crete, and sought for an inn wherein we might sup, but we found no inn save one of which I take shame to speak-a house of ill-fame, which was kept by a German woman, the mistress thereof, to whom we were led, and who, as soon as we, being all of us nobles, priests, or monks, had come in, cleared her house, and put it with all its chambers at our service. She was a well-mannered, respectful, and discreet woman, and obtained all that we needed for us in great quantity, and we had a glorious supper, with Cretan wine, which we called malvoisie. And that day we found there ripe grapes, both black and white, in great plenty. But since the wind was fair, we were told that we should start that night, and so when our supper was over we returned on board of our galley and passed the night there.

On the nineteenth, which is the feast of St. Gervais and St. Protais, after we had risen and were hoping to start, we saw the galley-slaves carrying their goods out of the ship into the market-place to offer them for sale. When we saw this we knew that the galley was not going to start, and we straightway landed in the boat and entered the city, where we heard Mass at the church of the Preaching Friars. After Mass we went to our inn and had a good dinner; when we had dined we visited all the churches and monasteries in the city, whereof I will give an exact account on my return. As evening came on we were all recalled to the galley by the sound of trumpets, and no sooner had we gotten on board of her than the fair wind, which had blown all day long, dropped, and so we stayed in port all night where we were, with much weariness and grumbling and impatience.

On the twentieth, before it was light, they rowed. the galley out of the harbour of Crete with great labour, and we sailed with a light wind towards the isle of Standia. The isles of Crete and Standia lie over against one another, and we lay midway between them without making any way. Howbeit, about noon there came a fresh and fair wind, which brought us out of the Cretan into the Aegean Sea, to the Cyclades Isles, through which we sailed all this day and all the following night.

On the twenty-first we were in the midst of the Cyclades, striving to reach the isle of Rhodes, which is the first and chief of the Cyclades, and is on the eastern side of them. About noon we were driven out of the circle of the Cyclades to the country which is called Napulia, which country is the first which was attacked by the Turks. After long wanderings [65 a] about the world they came into this country, slew and enslaved those who dwelt therein, and began their reign there. Setting out from this country, they have taken the whole of Asia Minor from the Christians and made it subject to themselves. After mid-day the wind fell somewhat for an hour; but afterwards it blew stronger, and drove us away from Napulia towards Rhodes, and we quickly came up to the mountains of Rhodes, towards the city of Colossus, which is the chief city in that isle. Meanwhile, the sun set and night came upon us before we could enter the port of Colossus; howbeit, by the help of the moon's light we sailed into the harbour, where we moored ship and slept that night. In the port we found the galley of Master Augustine, who, with his pilgrims, was ashore in the city.

On the twenty-second, being the fourth Sunday after Trinity, and the feast of the Ten Thousand Martyrs,¹¹ after obtaining leave from the Grand Master of the Knights of Jerusalem-without whose express consent no one is allowed to enter the city-we left our galley, and entered the city of Colossus, which they call Rhodes. Here we went up to the castle of the knights, to the church of St. John, where we heard high Mass. After Mass some knights of St. John, German noblemen, came to my lords, whom they greeted with great respect and pleasure, and showed them their relics; after which they prepared a most excellent dinner for us in a respectable house, and there we dined. After dinner Master Augustine and his pilgrims departed. When our captain, Piro Lando, saw this, he blew his trumpet and recalled us on board; so we made haste on board the galley. Howbeit, we left behind us in that city several good and honest knights, who were too ill to go any further, among whom was the Lord Jerotheus van Ratzenhusen, and some knights of St. John, who had come from Venice with us, and had been merry and loyal comrades to us, at whose loss we were all grieved. For on board ship exceeding pleasant and social friendships are made, just as in places of study and watering-places, and the separation which follows is grievous. There remained behind also the one woman who was with us, because she had strayed away to some church outside the town, not supposing that the galley would sail that day. Except her husband, no one was sorry at the absence of this woman, because she had rendered herself odious beyond measure by her silly talk and her inquisitive prying into unprofitable matters. There was also a poor man whom the captain had taken thus far for the love of God, but whom he would not take further. This man stood on the beach wailing and lamenting that he could not come to Jerusalem. My lords took pity on him, brought him on board, and provided for the expenses of his journey. They also took under their protection

another poor man from our own country, who was unable to proceed further, and provided for him likewise. So that evening we started. [b]

On the twenty-third, the eve of St. John the Baptist, we sailed before a very strong wind, and during the previous night sailed so fast that in the morning we saw no land, nothing but the Adriatic (? Aegean) and Carpathian Sea When the sun set and it was growing dark, our sailors prepared to make St. John's fire on the galley, which they did as follows: They took many more than forty lanterns made of wood and transparent horn, and hung them one above the other on a long rope, and then, when the lamps were lighted, they hoisted them up aloft to the maintop, in such sort that the burning lanterns hung down from the maintop as far as the rowing-benches, and lighted up the whole galley. To see this sight all men came on deck from the cabin, the poop, and the innermost chambers of the galley, and stood round about it. Thereupon the trumpeters began to blow their trumpets, and the galley-slaves and other sailors sang, rejoiced, chanted, danced, and clapped their hands; whereat all who stood round about were wrought upon by the shouts of gladness and the clapping of hands to rejoice at the respect paid to the most blessed forerunner of our Lord. Before this show I never had beheld the practice of clapping the hands for joy, to which allusion is made in the forty-sixth Psalm, which saith: 'O clap your hands, all ye people; shout unto God with the voice of triumph.' Nor could I have believed that the general clapping of many men's hands at the same time, when done out of gladness, would have such great power to move the human mind to joy. So we rejoiced greatly on board of the galley until about midnight, sailing along all the while swiftly and quietly on our way After this we laid ourselves down to sleep, pilgrims and sailors alike, and let the ship drive before the wind; but the wind ought never to be thus trusted alone, without man's labour, and Watchfulness as well, for in the twinkling of an eye it may change, as will appear in my story.

On the twenty-fourth, which is the feast of St. John the Baptist, we sighted Cyprus early in the morning. On seeing it the pilots of our galley were much vexed, because they saw that they had gone astray from the right path over the sea, and had lost their way while they slept; for the galley had been carried too far towards the left. Had the steersmen not slept, the galley would this morning have been at anchor in some desirable haven in Cyprus. Wherefore there arose a dispute and quarrel between the captain and the steersmen; and the pilots quarrelled among themselves, and blamed the sailors. So they turned the galley to the right, away from the course on which she was sailing, and about the hour of vespers we came back to our true course. But no sooner were we in the right path than the wind fell, and that night we scarcely moved at all. [66 a]

On the twenty-fifth we came over against the most ancient port in Cyprus, which is called Paphos, and is mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, ch. xiii., vv. 6 and I3. Near this we saw the mount of Venus,¹² whereof I will tell you on my return, and we sailed very slowly until noon. At noon a fair wind arose, which bore us from thence, and we quickly sailed along the coast of the kingdom of Cyprus, passing the harbours of Piscopi and Limasol, and about the vesper hour we sailed into the harbour of Salinae, and made our ship fast with anchors and mooring ropes. Straightway the captain had Himself and his servants put on shore, where he hired horses and rode to the city of Nicosia, the chief city of Cyprus, to the Queen's court, as he wished to see his wife, who was a lady of the Queen's bedchamber. I have mentioned this city on page 16a, and the description thereof will be found on page 143 b, Part II.

When the captain had left us, we pilgrims stood on the deck of the galley looking at the shore, and I stood with them, telling those who were near me about the barrenness of this port, and the nature of the country; for I had been there for many days during my former pilgrimage. I likewise pointed out to my lords the pilgrims those places on the shore which I knew, and among other things I showed them the Mount of the Holy Cross, the highest mountain in all the realm of Cyprus, on whose top is a church, wherein hangs the cross of the thief who was crucified on the right hand of Christ; and I told their lordships all the story of that cross, as will be seen hereafter. While my lords and others of the pilgrims stood there, wondering about that cross and looking towards the mount, which was five German miles distant from us, I said to them: 'Lo! my dearest brethren, our captain has Parted to Nicosia, and will scarce return by to-morrow evening, and we cannot set sail ere he returns, and to-morrow we shall have a very long and tedious day. Now, therefore, let him who is willing to follow me to the Holy Mount come to the stern of the galley, and we will visit the blessed cross, and to-morrow we will return in good time.'

Saying this, I went to the stern, and many noblemen followed me thither, thinking that I had said and done this in jest. So in the poop I hired a servant who knew the way to the Holy Cross, promising him that he should receive a marcella¹³ from each of my companions, and I also hired a boatman to take us to the shore. But the noblemen, when they saw that I was in earnest, all went away again and left me; howbeit, there remained with me these pilgrims:

Lord Henry of Schomberg, a noble knight and a brave man.

Master John, the priest, an archdeacon from Transylvania, a man of piety and learning.

Master Caspar Siculi, a knight, a brave and strong young man.

Master Burchard Nusdorfer, a knight, a good and merry man.

One Rudolph, a Swiss from Thurgau, a tall and honest man.

One John, a merchant from Flanders, a man of exceeding great thirst.

And Brother Felix, the moving spirit of all these, and the servant whom I had hired, Andrew by name.

We eight went down from the galley into the boat, and when we were set on shore [b] began to discuss how we should manage our pilgrimage; for the hour was late, the sun had set, and it was growing dark. Our guide and servant took us in the dark to a village named Ornyca, one mile distant from the sea, where he roused a countryman whom he knew. This countryman produced wine, bread, and cheese, and we ate and drank. We also hired eight mules in the village, upon which we mounted and set out joyously. Meanwhile the moon had risen, and gladdened our hearts as her light drove away the darkness, for we, the chosen eight, were all comrades. The weather was fine, the country beautiful, the road good, and besides all this the shrubs of that land breathed forth the sweetest fragrance, for almost all the herbs of that isle are spices of divers sorts, which smell by far sweetest in the night time, when they are moist with dew. We continued our journey until the rising of Lucifer, the morning star, which precedes the rising of the sun, when we came to the village which is named St. Cross, where we tied up our beasts and lighted a fire, and my comrades drank, but I abstained, because I meant to celebrate a Mass on the Holy Mount. We also lay down and rested for a little spaces and slept until it was bright day, lying on the ground by the side of our beasts.

On the twenty-sixth, which is the feast of the Holy Martyrs John and Paul, when we arose we asked the Greek before whose house we had rested to make ready a good dinner for us, since we meant to return to him from the mount without breaking our fast. So we mounted our beasts and set out, with the Holy Mount before our eyes, shuddering at its height. At the foot of the mount we came into a delicious valley, through the midst of which ran a clear sweet stream of living water, whose banks were full of most beauteous flowers, whose names we did not know, and sweet-smelling shrubs. There were also many trees laden with carob beans, which laymen call 'St. John's bread.' From this valley we made our way up the mount in a very cold shade, because the sun, albeit it was warming all the mountains round about with its rays, yet could not reach us in that valley. Soon we came to the steepest part of the mountain, up which we could not ride our mules, so we tied them to trees, and climbed up on foot with; great labour and much sweating; for the mount is lofty and steep, and is said to be in all ways like unto Mount Tabor in the Holy Land, whereon our Lord was transfigured. This I have heard from one who had climbed them both. When we arrived at the top, we knelt in prayer before the church, and sat down in the open air, before entering the church, that we might regain our breath, and wipe away the sweat wherewith we were covered, and cool the heat in which we were. After we had done this I made myself ready first, as was fitting, entered the church, and tolled the bell, that the sacristan might hear it and come. Straightway there came a priest, ignorant of the Latin tongue, who brought out [67a] most ancient Latin service books and other things needful for Mass. After the bell had been rung I read a Mass for the Holy Cross, with the collects for the Holy Martyrs John and Paul, and for travellers. After Mass I turned me round to my brethren and comrades, and delivered an address to them, telling them how they should pay meet and worthy reverence to the cross, and pointing out in what respects the cross about to be shown differed from that of our Saviour, and in what respects it was like unto it. I, moreover, warned them not to be over-inquisitive when they viewed it, and not to wish to see a miracle therein, because when we were come to the most holy sepulchre of our Lord at Jerusalem we should see no miracle, and how much less could we look for one here? This I said because we had heard strange and curious tales about the cross which was to be seen there. After this I took a lighted candle in my hands and went to the place where the cross was, and my fellow-pilgrims followed me thither, and the sacristan came with me. When we came to the place the sacristan opened it, so that we had the holy cross plainly to be seen before our eyes. Then I went first up to the cross and kissed it, and viewed it carefully both before and behind. After me came my companions, who paid honour to it, and carefully viewed it, one after another. It is a tolerably large cross, covered in front with plates of silver, gilded, but on the side looking towards the wall it is uncovered, and is made of fine sound wood, like cypresswood. They say that this is the cross of Dysma, the thief on the right hand, to whom our Lord Jesus promised Paradise when on the cross. For the blessed Helena found three crosses beneath Mount Calvary, whereof she threw away that one which belonged to Gesma, the thief on the left hand. The second cross, that of Dysma, she kept. The third, which was the cross of Christ, she openly showed to all the world, that it might be duly honoured. She brought her own cross, that which had been Dysma's, entire from Jerusalem to this mount, and here she built a great convent for monks, and a church wherein she placed this cross as an exceeding holy relic. She ordered a chamber or closet to be built in the wall over against the altar, and placed the cross within it; and there it stands unmoved even to this day, albeit the monastery itself has long ago been overthrown even to the ground by the Turks and Saracens, and the monks of the Order of St. Benedict, who once dwelt therein, have been scattered. The position and arrangement of this cross in its place is wonderful. The cross stands in a blind window, and both its arms are let into holes made in the wall, and its foot is let into a hole made in the floor, But the holes which contain the arms of the cross and the foot of the cross are large out of all proportion, and the cross nowhere touches the wall, but is free and clear from contact with the wall on every side. The miracle which is noised abroad about the cross, is that it hangs in the air without any fastening, and withal stands as firm as though it were fixed with the strongest nails, or built into the wall, which nevertheless it is not, because all the three holes are very great, so that a man can put his hand into them. and perceive by touch that there is no fastening there, nor yet at the back or at the head of the cross. I might indeed have searched this thing more narrowly than I did, but I feared God, and [b] had no right to do that which I had forbidden others to do.¹⁴ I climbed this mount to show honour to the cross, not to try whether there was a miracle or not, or to tempt God. That this cross may be the more worthy of reverence, they have joined to it a piece of the true cross of Christ. In this chapel hangs a bell, which we rang both before and after Mass, and I said to my companions that we should hear no more bells until we returned to Christendom, which was true, for hereafter I heard no bell for a space of four months, save this one, which we believe to have been placed here by St. Helena, who also placed the cross here.

Now, when we had finished with the church we came out and entered the house of the sacristan, hoping to find therein something wherewith to refresh ourselves; but the house was void and empty, nor was there so much as a biscuit and cold water therein, [68a] nor could the man speak to us, because he was a pure Greek, and Latin was to him a barbarous tongue, Italian was Arabic, and German was Tartar. So we departed unrefreshed, and strolled round the brow of the mountain, where we found some thick ancient walls, remains of the temple of Venus. In whichever direction we looked, whether along or across the island, we could see the sea; but since by reason of the excessive heat the air was somewhat misty and clouded, we were not able to see the Holy Land, nor could we see the mountains of Armenia, of Cappadocia, of Coele-Syria, or of Galilee, all of which we might have seen had the air been clear. After this we entered the church, greeted and kissed the holy cross, hurried down the mount to where our beasts stood, and rode to the village of Holy Cross, where we found our much-longed-for dinner ready, which we ate with giving of thanks. We could not straightway leave the place, because it was exceeding hot, and the sun burned like fire, so we went into a church of the Greeks, which stood near our inn, that we might pray therein and then rest a little in the shade. While we sat there a clerk in orders came and said to us in the Latin tongue, 'What are you doing in the Greek church ? Here close by is a Latin church of your rite; it is there that you ought to pray and rest yourselves.' So we arose and went with him to the Latin church. Here he brought out from the archives the arm of St. Anne, the mother of the Blessed Virgin, which was honoured by being enclosed in silver. He also produced a nail, which was in like manner covered with silver, and this he said was one of the nails of Christ, wherewith he was nailed to the cross. We kissed these relics, and touched them with our jewels, as has been described. I found that this clerk was a monk, which, however, I could not discover from his dress, because he was covered with a camlet cloak, and that he was the Parson of both churches, both the Greek and the Latin one, and that in all respects he conformed himself to the rite of each; for on Sundays he first celebrated Mass in the Latin church, and consummated it in the Western fashion with unleavened bread; and when this office was finished he crossed over to the Greek church, and consummated in the Eastern fashion with leavened bread. This displeased me much, and I held that priest to be a heretic of the worst kind, leading the people astray hither and thither: for the two rites cannot be performed by one and the same person; nay, hardly in the same city, because of their disagreement in many important articles. It is true that in old times the Roman Church used to tolerate the Grecian rite, yet even then it did not permit one to be Greek and Latin at the same time, much less now when the Church condemns the Greeks as schismatics and heretics, and the Greeks renounce us in their offices, and on every Sunday declare to their people that the Roman Church is excommunicate, and hate us of the Latin rite even to the death of us all. How, then, can any honest man and good Catholic be a Latin and a Greek parson at the same time? No one acts thus except to satisfy his avarice or his love of pleasure, for such men as this accept whatever is pleasant in either ritual, and renounce those things which are hard and grievous to be borne whether they be in the one or the other. Many Latin priests transfer themselves to the Greek rite that they may venture upon marriage, yet at the same time they wish to enjoy the liberty of priests of the Latin rite, which is not theirs.

So, in the afternoon, when the sun's heat began to grow less, we mounted our beasts and went down towards the sea as far as the church of St. Lazarus; which stands on the shore, opposite to which was our galley, a long way out in the sea. Here we sent back our beasts to their owners. On the shore was a great market, and a great crowd of people brought together by our galley, from which our sailors had brought out their wares, and were selling them to the Cypriots. So it was in every place where we touched. After we had seen the market he returned to the galley to our lords and comrades, whom we found sorrowful and ill-tempered because the captain had not yet returned, and they had passed a very wearisome day. All the pilgrims crowded round us to hear about what we had seen, and when they heard our story they said that we were fortunate, and that they were sorry that they had not gone with us.

On the twenty-seventh, as we found that the captain was slow to return, some pilgrims, of whom I was one, again had themselves put ashore to spend the day there. The greater part of the pilgrims stayed on board the galley, for fear of the air of Cyprus, which is in general hurtful to Germans unless they be strong and of a sound habit of body. Wherefore nobles who fear to risk their skin do not land in Cyprus. When on shore we went to the place where the salt works are, where we could see by the ruins that once there had been a city of no small size. Behind the city there is a place surrounded with hills, which sometimes when the sea rises-is filled with water and becomes like a lake, and then when the sea ebbs away again all the water which remains therein is turned by the heat of the sun into the finest, whitest, and most valuable salt. This salt is carried into many countries for sale, and the Queen of Cyprus receives much money for it from those who deal in salt. In my first pilgrimage I saw many men working there at separating salt from the water which was not yet dried up, and there were many tall piles of salt standing there like little hills; but now there was not one single man there, and where formerly the piles of salt had stood there was fairly deep water; So about the time of vespers we returned on board our galley, and we were very angry with our captain. That evening came in a boat the woman who had been left behind at Rhodes, at whose return there was but little joy; yet I pitied the poor creature because of the straits to which she had been put by the sailing of the vessel [69 a].

On the twenty-eighth before sunrise the captain came from Nicosia with certain Cypriots who desired to see the holy places at Jerusalem, among whom was a pious lady of the Queen's court, who meant to end her days in Jerusalem in the neighbourhood of the holy places. We weighed anchor, and sailed very slowly out of the harbour because the wind was light. At noon it grew strong, and also foul, and we were swiftly driven back towards the rocky coast of Cyprus. When there, we cast the lead, and found that the keel was very near the bottom, wherefore, lest we might meet with any Scylla or Bithalassum, we lowered the sails, took the ship out of the hands of the wind, dropped our anchors and waited there for a fair wind. This delay was grievous to us, because we were burning with desire to behold the Holy Land, knowing that we should sight no other land before we arrived at that for which we longed. Our delay was above all grievous to the captain and his officers, who feared lest Augustine, who had gone before us with his pilgrims, might obtain leave to enter the Holy Land before our arrival there, because if this should happen we should have been obliged to stay in harbour until they had finished their pilgrimage and had put to sea again: this would have been the death of us, and past our bearing. For had we not found them in the port of the Holy Land, we should have been forced to return to Cyprus straightway and there await their return. After sunset there arose a light wind, to which we entrusted the ship, and crawled a little way that night.

On the twenty-ninth, which is the feast of the Holy Apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, and which was the fifth Sunday after Trinity, a foul wind drove us back again until we came near to the port of Limasol, which we had passed last Wednesday, and there we anchored. Here the sailors took axes, and rowed ashore to a grove of trees, where they chopped wood for the kitchen fire without remembering that it was the feast of the Apostles and Sunday. When it grew late the wind came fairer, and we weighed anchor and swiftly sailed away from Cyprus into the open sea, where we could see no land, whether mainland or island, because we were very far out.

On the thirtieth, which is the Commemoration of St. Paul, and the last day of June, we sailed fast and watched with most earnest longing for the joyful sight of that most desirable and glorious land. Even as Moses, when he had passed through the wilderness of the desert and had drawn nigh unto the Promised Land, in his longing for it, ascended into a mountain to the top of Phasca (Pisgah), whence he beheld the Holy Land, as we are told in Deut. xxxiv. I; so we, who had been led out of our own land across the great sea, were continually [b] climbing to the upper parts of the ship to seize by our eyes that land for which we were making. Whosoever first beheld this land from the sea would have counted himself a happy man. Wherefore we begged and bribed the young sailors who kept watch in the maintop to keep a careful look-out round about the sea, and warn us with a shout as soon as they beheld the Holy Land; and we meant to give a good present to him by whose voice we should first hear the glad tidings. It is not out of any boastfulness, but merely to describe truly what befell, that I confess that, for my own part on both my pilgrimages, during those days when I expected that we should soon see the Holy Land, I cared neither for eating, drinking, nor sleeping; the hours of darkness which are appointed for men's rest were grievous to me; my bed was a thorn to me, my berth a hell. I could no longer read or write, or converse with men as before; but my only pleasure was to sit at the prow of the galley upon the horns thereof, and from thence to look out ceaselessly across the wide sea, that by the toil of my eyes I might quiet the fever of my mind. I was vexed in mind when night came on, and, though I scarce dare to tell it, I have even cursed the night for taking away from me the means of seeing-I mean the light. On all these days I was seated on the prow before the dawn, whose rays I welcomed with joy, and then awaited the rising of the sun, and most diligently cast my sight over the surface of the sea and fixed it towards the east, which, nevertheless, I supposed to be beneath the water, because of the height of the sea. Wherefore I did not look aloft, but fixed my gaze unflinchingly upon that part of the sky which seemed to join the sea, or to be parted from it by the horizon; and as the sun rose I used to look earnestly whether I could see any impediment or opaque body between the bright body of the sun and the clear body of the water. Any mass thus interposed could have been nothing else than the Holy Land, which I knew was to the eastward of us. For when a galley is floating on the high seas, end the sun rises, it seems as though he rose out of the water, and there is naught to be seen in between the sun and the water. The same thing happens at sunset also, when the sun seems to plunge into the water. But when the galley is within about twenty or thirty German miles of the land, the sun seems to come forth from the mountains of that land, so that in the brightness of the dawn the mountains can be seen before the sun, because they are between the sun and the sea. But as soon as the sun has risen above the mountains, in two or three hours' time those mountains will be invisible. Therefore I used to stand at the prow in the early twilight, hoping to see the Holy Land before the sun arose; and I used to greet the rising sun with joy, because without his help I could not see that land. But when I saw the sun risen high above the sea, with no land shown at his rising, I sadly turned away, and for a time busied myself with other matters. Thus was it also with other pilgrims, not, indeed, with all, but only those who loved and longed for the Holy Land. Ach, mein Gott! how sweet the love of a heavenly country can be to the devout and contemplative, when [70 a] undevout, wretched, sinful, wandering pilgrims feel so pleasant, so deep, and so keen a longing for an earthly one! Even as Mary Magdalen, burning with the fire of love, often bowed herself down and looked into the sepulchre where her Beloved lay, so cloth the loving pilgrim often rise up in his ship and gaze fixedly toward the east, that he may behold the land wherein is the sepulchre of his Beloved. So all day long we used to sit looking over the sea, trying whether we could see anything save water; and sometimes, through the power of imagination, some would fancy that they saw land, and would call others to them and ask them to look, and would engage in a pious dispute-one side declaring that they saw land, and the other denying it. Sometimes while they wrangled one would lay a wager with another that he was right, and they would refer the matter to the look-out man who sat in the maintop, and when he had given his verdict, one would pay the other the glass of malvoisie or whatever other shine he had wagered. Meanwhile, we were sailing prosperously, and held a very fair and gentle wind. It seemed to us that the bitter sea itself had begun to turn sweet and grant us pleasant sailing, and that owing to the nearness of that sweetest of lands which flows with milk and honey. Thus passed that day and night, and consequently the month of June came to an end.

Here endeth the third chapter.