The text has not been cut or expanded, re-interpreted or edited.
Any transcription seems to involve some interpretation, conscious
or otherwise, but an effort has been made to keep it to a minimum.
Passages that seemed to make no sense have therefore been left
unaltered. If other readers find solutions for them their
suggestions will be welcomed.
This is not in any sense a scholarly piece of work. That would
require a very different method, as well as a far more thorough
knowledge of sixteenth-century English. It would be a most
commendable undertaking, but it might result in an edition for the
learned. This one is for everyone who has the two essentials,
faith and intelligence, presupposed by Anthony in Chapter II.
MONICA STEVENS
Middlebury, Vermont.
Feast of St. Benedict, 1950.
______________________________
BOOK ONE
VINCENT: Who would have thought, O my good uncle, a few years
past, that those in this country who would visit their friends
lying in disease and sickness would come, as I do now, to seek and
fetch comfort of them? Or who would have thought that in giving
comfort to them they would use the way that I may well use to you?
For albeit that the priests and friars be wont to call upon sick
men to remember death, yet we worldly friends, for fear of
discomforting them, have ever had a way here in Hungary of lifting
up their hearts and putting them in good hope of life.
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