ir stories are
localised in England, and that quotations in English are here and there
inserted into the tale.[271]

In turning the pages of these voluminous works, glimpses will be caught
of the Wolf, the Fox, and Tybert the cat; the Miller, his son and the
Ass; the Women and the Secret (instead of eggs, it is here a question of
"exceedingly black crows"); the Rats who wish to hang a bell about the
Cat's neck. Many tales, fabliaux, and short stories will be recognised
that have become popular under their French, English, or Italian shape,
such as the lay of the "Oiselet,"[272] the "Chienne qui pleure," or the
Weeping Bitch, the lay of Aristotle, the Geese of Friar Philip, the Pear
Tree, the Hermit who got drunk. Some of them are very indecent, but they
were not left out of the collections on that account, any more than
miniaturists were forbidden to paint on the margins of holy, or almost
holy books, scenes that were far from being so. A manuscript of the
decretals, for example, painted in England at the beginning of the
fourteenth century, exhibits a series of drawings illustrating some of
these stories, and meant to fit an obviously unexpurgated text.[273]

The Virgin plays her usual part of an indulgent protectress; the
story-tellers strangely deviate from the sacred type set before them in
the Scriptures. They represent her as the Merciful One whose patience no
crime can exhaust, and whose goodwill is enlisted by the slightest act
of homage. She is transformed and becomes in their hands an
intermediate being between a saint, a goddess, and a fairy. The
sacristan-nun of a convent, beautiful as may be believed, falls in love
with a clerk, doubtless a charming one, and, unable to live without him,
"throws her keys on the altar, and roves with her friend for five years
outside the monastery." Passing by the place at the end of that time,
she is impelled by curiosity to go to the convent and inquire concerning
herself, the sacristan-nun of former years. To her great surprise she
hears that the sister continues there, and edifies the whole community
by her piety. At night, while she sleeps, the Virgin appears to her in a
vision, saying: "Return, unfortunate one, to thy convent! It is I who,
assuming thy shape, have fulfilled thy duties until now."[274] A
conversion of course follows. A professional thief, who robbed and did
nothing besides, "always invoked the Virgin with great devotion, even
when he set out to steal."[