Stretched out at the door of the church and reviewing my past life,I thought over the misery I had gone through from the day I began to serve the blind man down to the present.And I came to the conclusion that even if a man always rises early,that doesn't make dawn come any earlier,and if you work hard,that won't necessarily make you rich.And there's a saying that goes like this:"The early riser fails where God's help succeeds."I put myself in His hands so that the end would be better than the beginning and the middle had been.
A venerable,white-bearded hermit was next to me with his staff and a rosary in his hand,and at the end of the rosary hung a skull the size of a rabbit's.
When the good Father saw me in such misery he began to console me with kind,soft words,and he asked me where I was from and what had happened to bring me to such a pitiful state.I told him very briefly the long process of my bitter pilgrimage.He was astonished by what I said and showed his pity on me by inviting me to his hermitage.I accepted the invitation,and as well as I could (which wasn't painlessly)I reached the oratory with him,a few miles from there,in the side of a hill.Attached to it was a little house with a bedroom and a bed.In the patio was a cistern with fresh water,and it was used to water a garden--neater and better cared for than it was large.
"I have been living here,"said the good old man,"for twenty years,apart from the commotion and anxiety of man.This,brother,is earthly paradise.Here I contemplate both divine and human matters.Here I fast when I am well fed,and I eat when I am hungry.Here I stay awake when I can't sleep,and I sleep when I grow tired.Here I have solitude when no one is with me,and I have company when I am not alone.Here I sing when I am happy,and I cry when I am sad.Here I work when I'm not idle,and I am idle when I don't work.Here I think about my past bad life,and I contemplate the good one I have now.And,finally,here nothing is known,and the knowledge of all things is attained."
I rejoiced in my heart to listen to the cunning hermit,and I begged him to tell me about hermit life,since it seemed to be the best in the world.
"What do you mean,the best?"he answered."Only a person who has enjoyed it can know how good it really is.But we don't have time to speak further of this because it's time to have dinner."
I begged him to heal my arm because it hurt very much.He did it so easily that from then on it never bothered me.We ate like kings and drank like Germans.After the meal was over,and while we were taking an afternoon nap,my good hermit began to shout,"I'm dying!I'm dying!"
I got up and saw that he looked like he was about to breathe his last.And I asked him if he really was dying.
"Yes,yes,yes!"he answered.
And still repeating "yes,"he died an hour later.
But at the time he told me that,I was very upset.I realized that if the man died without witnesses,people might say I had killed him,and it would cost me the life I had kept up with such hard work.And it wouldn't take very weighty witnesses for that because I looked more like a robber than an honest man.I immediately ran out of the hermitage to see if anyone was around who could be a witness to the old man's death.I looked everywhere and saw a flock of sheep nearby.I quickly (although painfully because of the beating I had gotten in the tailor skirmish)went toward it.I found six or seven shepherds and four or five shepherdesses resting in the shade of some willows,next to a shining,clear spring.The men were playing instruments and the women were singing.Some were capering,others were dancing.One of the men was holding a woman's hand,another was resting with his head on a woman's lap.And they were spending the heat of the day wooing each other with sweet words.
I ran up to them,terrified,and begged them to come with me right away because the old hermit was dying.Some of them came along while others stayed behind to watch over the sheep.They went into the hermitage and asked the good hermit if he was approaching death.He said,"Yes"(but that was a lie because he wasn't going anywhere:it was death that was approaching him,and against his will).When I saw that he was still in his rut about saying yes,I asked him if he wanted those shepherds to be witnesses for his last will and testament.He answered,"Yes."
I asked him if he was leaving me as his sole and lawful heir.He said,"Yes."I went on,asking if he acknowledged and confessed that everything he possessed or might possess he was leaving to me for services and other things he had received from me.Again he said,"Yes."
I was wishing that would be the last noise he'd make,but I saw that he still had a little breath left in him,and,so that he wouldn't do me any harm with it,I went on with my questions and had one of the shepherds write down everything he said.The shepherd wrote on a wall with a piece of coal since we didn't have an inkwell or a pen.
I asked him if he wanted that shepherd to sign for him since he was in no position to do it himself,and he died,saying,"Yes,yes,yes."
We went ahead and buried him:we dug a grave in his garden (and did it all very quickly because I was afraid he might come back to life).I invited the shepherds to have something to eat;they didn't want to because it was time to feed their sheep.They went away,giving me their condolences.
