im and kiss
him. And when thou hast finished reading, close the book
and give thanks for every word out of the mouth of God;
because in the Lord's field thou hast found a hidden
treasure[157].
In a similar strain a writer or copyist entreats readers to be careful of
his work--work which has cost him an amount of pains that they cannot
realise. It is impossible to translate the original exactly, but I hope
that I have given the meaning with tolerable clearness:
I beseech you, my friend, when you are reading my book
to keep your hands behind its back, for fear you should
do mischief to the text by some sudden movement; for a
man who knows nothing about writing thinks that it is no
concern of his. Whereas to a writer the last line is as
sweet as port is to a sailor. Three fingers hold the
pen, but the whole body toils. Thanks be to God. I
Warembert wrote this book in God's name. Thanks be to
God. Amen[158].
Entreaties so gentle and so pathetic as these are seldom met with; but
curses--in the same strain probably as those to which the Council of Paris
took exception--are extremely common. In fact, in some Houses, a
manuscript invariably ended with an imprecation--more or less severe,
according to the writer's taste[159]. I will append a few specimens.
This book belongs to S. Maximin at his monastery of
Micy, which abbat Peter caused to be written, and with
his own labour corrected and punctuated, and on Holy
Thursday dedicated to God and S. Maximin on the altar of
S. Stephen, with this imprecation that he who should
take it away from thence by what device soever, with
the intention of not restoring it, should incur
damnation with the traitor Judas, with Annas, Caiaphas,
and Pilate. Amen[160].
Should anyone by craft or any device whatever abstract
this book from this place [Jumieges] may his soul
suffer, in retribution for what he has done, and may his
name be erased from the book of the living and not be
recorded among the Blessed[161].
A simpler form of imprecation occurs very frequently in manuscripts
belonging to S. Alban's:
This book belongs to S. Alban. May whosoever steals it
from him or destroys its title be anathema. Amen[162].
A similar form of words occurs at the Cistercian House of Clairvaux, a
great school of writing like S. Alban's, but whether it habitually
protected its man
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