Virgil And The Bronze Horse

“The horse of brass.”—MILTON.

“But evermore their moste wonder was
About this horsé, since it was of brass.
It was of faerie as the peple seemed,
Diversè folk diversely han deemed.”

CHAUCER: _The Squiere’s Tale_.

One day Virgilio went to visit the Emperor, and not finding him in his usual good temper, asked what was the matter, adding that he hoped it would be in his power to do something to relieve him.

Then the Emperor complained that what troubled him was that all his horses seemed to be ill or bewitched, behaving like wild beasts, or as if evil spirits were in them, and that which grieved him most was that his favourite white horse was most afflicted of all.

“Do not vex yourself for such a thing,” replied Virgil. “I will cure your horses and all the others in the city.”

Then he caused to be made a beautiful horse of bronze, and it was so well made that no one, unless by the will of Virgil (_senza il volere di Virgilio_), could have made the like. And whenever a horse which suffered in any way beheld it, the animal was at once cured.

All the smiths and horse-doctors in Rome were greatly angered at this, because after Virgil made the bronze horse they had nothing to do. So they planned to revenge themselves on him. And they all assembled in a vile place frequented by thieves and assassins, and there agreed to kill Virgil. Going to his house by night, they sought for him, but he escaped; so they, finding the bronze horse, broke it to pieces, and then fled.

When Virgil returned and found the horse in fragments he was greatly grieved, and said:

“The smiths have done this. However, I will yet do some good with the metal, for I will make from it a bell; and when the smiths hear it ring, I will give them a peal to remember me by.”

So the bell was made and given to the Church of San Martino. And the first time it was tolled it sang:

“Io ero un cavallo di bronzo.
Dai nemici son’ stato spezzato.
Ma un amico che mi ama,
In campana, mi ha cambiato
E la prima volta che faro
_Dindo_, _dindo_! dichiarero
Chi e becco a caprone.”

“I was a horse of bronze, and tall.
My enemies broke me to pieces small.
But a friend who loves me well
Had me made into a bell.
Now here on high I proudly ring,
And as I _dindo_! _dindo_ sing,
I tell aloud, as I toll and wave,
Who is a _wittol_ and a knave.”

And all the smiths who had broken the horse when they heard the bell became as deaf as posts. Then great remorse came over them and shame, and they threw themselves down on the ground before Virgil and begged his pardon.

Virgil replied:

“I pardon you; but for a penance you must have six other bells made to add to this, to make a peal, and put them all in the same church.”

This they did, and then regained their hearing.