In the second place there offers itself to us poison-working, properly so called. Wierus recognizes no such kind, because he thinks that witches cannot harm except by true and natural poison. Lerchemerus the Lutheran is not far from him. But against this man I could set his master Luther, and against the other that reverend teacher of his, as he is accustomed to call him, Agrippa, “a traitor of the traitors,” if any authority belonged to these fellows of darkness.
Certainly Luther in this matter magnifies the power of the demon too much. He says that the demon reigns in the whole world, and at once explains what this kingdom is in these words:
We are all subject to the Devil in our bodies and in our goods, and we are guests in the world, of which he himself is prince and God. Therefore the bread which we eat, the drink which we drink, the clothes which we use, indeed the air, and everything by which we live in the flesh, is under his rule.
So he, blasphemously. Therefore now the demon is prince and God to him, who certainly was part of the world? We acknowledge one God, judge of demons, and the prince and lord of the world as its founder and ruler, and so Lord and God. Therefore we have learned that Luther’s body and all his goods are subject to the Devil. But we have learned that the demon had no right over Job’s goods or body, except what was expressly granted by God for that time. Therefore, for Lutherans the air and all things by which they live are under the Devil’s rule. We confess that the Lord’s are the sheep and oxen, the birds of heaven, the beasts of the forests, the whales, the fish, and whatever he created, and that none of these belongs to the demon. “All things are mine,” said the Lord. Luther excepts all things that are in the world and adjudges them to the Devil.
He believed Satan when Satan said in Luke 4:6, “They have been handed over to me, and to whom I will I give them.” But he lied. Those things which were handed over, were not handed over to him by full right. What he received, he received on sufferance and by a defined power.
Blessed Paul calls demons “rulers of the world,” but St. Augustine explains it:
Lest perhaps, when he had said “of the world,” you should understand demons to be rulers of heaven and earth, he said, “of this darkness.” He said “of the world,” that is, of lovers of the world; he said “of the world,” that is, of the impious and unjust; he said “of the world,” of that concerning which he said in the Gospel, “The world did not know him.”
I know that by Blessed John the demon is called the prince of the world, John 12:31 and 14:30, and by Blessed Paul the prince and ruler of the world, Ephesians 6:12, and by the same apostle the god of this age, 2 Corinthians 4:4. But Luther ignorantly took “world” and “age” as referring to all things that exist in the world, though it is said by metonymy only of evil human beings. Since they serve the world and the age, they are named by the name of world and age. And because they dedicate themselves as slaves and bondsmen to the Devil, he is their prince and ruler. And because they worship him, he is called their god, just as the belly is the god of gluttons in Philippians 3:19.
[margin: Daneau, chapter 3, On Sortileges. The adjacent authorities cited in the text include Cyril, Ambrose, Augustine Against Faustus, Irenaeus, Tertullian Against Marcion, Chrysostom, Theophylact, Oecumenius, and Primasius]
Cyril and Ambrose, on the Epistles of St. Paul, and St. Augustine, book 22 Against Faustus, chapter 29, embrace this reading and interpretation; certain other Fathers do not disapprove it. Yet the more common punctuation is that it should be said, “in whom God, the God of this age, has blinded the minds”; and thus the Devil is not called God, but the one and true God is. Irenaeus, Against Heresies, book 3, chapter 7, and book 4, chapter 48, Tertullian in the fifth book Against Marcion, St. Chrysostom, Theophylact, Oecumenius, and Primasius prefer this on the same chapter 4.
But none of the Fathers called the Devil prince or god of the other bodily things in the way Luther said it. In this Luther quite openly turned aside into the error of Marcion and Manichaeus. Nor did Lambert Daneau the Calvinist speak carefully enough when he said that the Devil can corrupt whatever in these lands is corruptible by nature unless it is preserved by God. He ought to have said, “if God permits it to him.” For if God withdraws preservation, the thing itself is corrupted of itself, not by the demon. But let these matters be set aside.
Conclusion
With God permitting it, witches by their harmful magic afflict many mortals with very grave diseases or with death.
This opinion is proved, first, by the authority of St. Augustine, book 10 of The City of God, which you have in the canon “Nec mirum,” section “Magi,” 26, question 5; also in sermon 207 On Time, in the book On the Divination of Demons, chapter 6, and by the Council of Constantinople in Trullo, canon 61.
[margin: Pontifical and civil-law authorities: Innocent VIII, Alexander VI, Hadrian VI, Leo X, the title On Malefici and Incantations, the Code On Malefici and Mathematicians, the Institutes on the Cornelian law, Novel 65 of Emperor Leo, and the Carolina constitution. The historical example from Thevet is given as Africa, book 7, Cosmography, chapter 13]
Second, it is proved by pontifical law: the same canon “Nec mirum”; the constitutions of Innocent VIII, Alexander VI, Hadrian VI, and Leo X; and the title On Malefici and Enchanters in the seventh book of the Decretals.
Third, it is proved from civil law: the law “Multi,” Code, On Malefici and Mathematicians; the law “Eorum,” in the same title; the section “Item lex Cornelia,” Institutes, On Public Judgments; Novel 65 of Emperor Leo; and the Carolina constitution. Finally, the laws and practice of Italy, Spain, France, and Germany confirm it.
Fourth, it is proved by the histories of all nations. I shall touch on a few. Villamontius narrates something most criminal of all crimes: at Venice there was a sorcerer who bought the souls of certain men condemned to the galleys. He promised them liberation from that foul servitude of punishment, and counted out ten gold pieces for the soul of each. They sold and assigned that soul to the demon and the sorcerer by a chirograph marked with their own blood. Then, lest they could withdraw, he killed them suddenly after touching them with a certain poison. Villamontius adds that he was present at the punishment taken from that man. Who ever heard such things even in story?
Andrew Thevet also narrates that in Africa, in the town of Guzola, a certain Elzana killed more than eight hundred people by evil arts within the space of two years.
Sprenger narrates in the Malleus, part 2, that two midwives were burned in the dioceses of Basel and Strasbourg. One of them had killed forty infants, and the other innumerable infants recently brought into the light, by secretly inserting large needles into their heads.
[margin: Godelmann, On Witches, book 1, chapter 7; Cardano, On the Variety of Things, book 15, chapter 80]
In the time of Domitian certain people began to prick whomever they wished with needles smeared with poison, and many of those wounded died without any feeling of pain. Xiphilinus narrates from Dio that the same thing was done under Emperor Commodus.
Johannes Nider writes in book 5 of the Formicarius that in the territory of Bern certain sorcerers of both sexes devoured their own murdered infants, and that the same was done by others in the district of Lausanne. Godelmann adds:
In the previous year, a certain count of Upper Germany handed over to Vulcan six women poisoners, who had killed one hundred and twenty infants. In the year 1553 two women poisoners were captured at Berlin; they had tried to make ice for the destruction of crops. Those women stole the little child of another neighboring woman and cut it up and cooked it. It happened by divine providence that the mother, looking for her infant, came in and saw the pot and the limbs of her lost infant set in it. When the women were captured and examined under torture, they said: if the cooking had gone forward, then there would have been a great ice, so that all crops would be destroyed.
Cardano writes that around the year of the Lord 1536 at Salo about forty men and women conspired, among whom was the executioner, so that, when a plague had earlier raged but was now growing mild, they might make an ointment with which doorposts of gates would be infected when touched. They also made a powder which they secretly sprinkled over clothes. The matter was hidden for some time, and many were carried off. But when they had taken away the brother and only son of a certain man named Neri, and when hardly any but the masters of houses or sons were dying, and when at the same time people noticed an androgyne insinuating himself into houses, and that those whose houses he entered especially perished, the conspiracy was detected. All were killed with the most exquisite torments. They also confessed that they had resolved, at the solemn procession of a certain saint, to kill all the citizens by anointing the benches, and that more than twenty pots had been prepared for this use. Others afterward attempted the same thing at Geneva, and paid the penalty.
[margin: Grillandus, question 3, number 25, and question 3, number 29]
Grillandus teaches that these things happen either by taking something inwardly, or by an outward application through contact. Of the things that occur by being taken inwardly, he recognizes two modes. The first is through food or drink, when poisons, most often ground into powder, are mixed into them. He recognizes a second mode which occurs through anointing:
When the person to be harmed, whether male or female, is sleeping, they anoint him with their liquids, waters, oils, or fat, or with other similar anointings containing many and diverse poisons, sometimes on the thighs, sometimes on the belly, head, throat, breast, ribs, or some other part of the body of the person to be harmed. The sleeping person feels nothing. The force and power of that anointing is so great that, little by little, while the warmth of the sleeper lasts, it enters inward into the flesh and goes to the inmost parts of the heart and the viscera of the harmed person. From this, a little afterward, immense pains are caused in his body, as soon as the harmful magic or “making,” as they call it, touches the intestines of the harmed person. From there follow the greatest howlings and very frequent laments.
To this should be referred strigation, when they suck the blood of little children after the veins have been opened by a fingernail or needle, or otherwise by the work of a demon. Spina writes that this is evident from the small scars left behind and sometimes, after the flight of cats that have appeared, from drops of blood remaining near the crying children.
A third mode should be added: by inhalation. Of all such poison-workings this is the worst. It does not need a vehicle of humor or of grosser matter, which are more easily met. Rather, by its thinness, it is quickly drawn in by the mouth and often penetrates to the heart. This is the reason why that famous mountebank and poisoner, in a certain city of Italy, conquered when he contended with another antagonist about the efficacy of theriac. The other had poured into him a liquid poison which could be most effective, and he immediately met it by taking an antidote. But he, in turn, placed a little box at the mouth of the other man, whom he had ordered to gape. A living toad was in the box. Then, by quickly half-closing and repeatedly half-opening the little box, he introduced its poisonous breath and finished the man in a brief moment.
Plainly such a man is worthy of a Christian people and of a well-ordered republic, which permits contests of this kind.
[margin: Spina, question 8, on strigae]
Sorcerers themselves also sometimes infect or kill by breathing on people. Certain writers of doubtful faith, cited by the perfidious Bale, narrate that Clement VII was carried off by the smoke of a poisoned funeral taper.
[margin: Sprenger, Malleus, part 2, question 1, chapter 11]
Sprenger narrates that a certain woman between Breisach and Freiburg had quarreled with a neighbor. Soon afterward, when at night she was doing something before the door of the house, a certain hot wind was blown into her face from the house of the other woman, who lived opposite; from this she suddenly contracted leprosy. In the same diocese and in the territory of the Black Forest, while a witch was being placed upon a pile of wood prepared by the lictor, she said to him, “Behold, your reward from me,” and at the same time breathed into his face. Immediately the wretched man was covered entirely with horrible leprosy, which joined him to many others within the space of a few days.
I see that these inhalatory poison-workings have not been well understood by some people. Bodin refers their force to the poisonous nature of the breath itself. But there can be no such antipathy of one human being against another, as I taught in the preceding section, unless perhaps it is from food, as we read of Aristotle’s girl, nourished on aconite. But then her breath would not harm only the one whom the witch wished, but would be harmful to all mortals.
Daneau attributes it to poison carried in the mouth. Bodin attacks this with an argument to which, he says, no answer can be given, namely that this poison would harm the sorcerer himself before it harmed another. You see the knot, reader, as insoluble. But laugh at what you see. What if Daneau should say that the sorcerer first fortified himself with contrary antidotes? Plainly that straw Achilles of this windy man would fall. In the same way that Italian in Paris, known to Bodin and so dear to Catherine de’ Medici, used gloves, little balls, or sweet-smelling powders to kill others by smell alone while himself unharmed. He boasted that in this way Queen Jeanne d’Albret of Navarre had been killed by him, the viper’s poison penetrating through the nostrils into the brain, if anything is to be believed on the support of Calvinism from Calvinist historians, the French Memoirs written in French, tome 3, and Richard Dinothus, book 5 of The French War.
The true cause is that these things are done most often by pact through a demon, while the magician breathes in vain and thinks these things happen by his own breath. There is indeed a marvelous efficacy in certain poisons, which could produce sudden leprosy or death; and the demon, who knows antidotes, could prescribe them to his own people, so that they themselves, unharmed, could transfer plague into others. But this should be thought to happen rarely.
Grillandus writes that the things taken inwardly are made by compositions and mixtures of many kinds of poisons: some from leaves of herbs, stalks, or roots; from poisonous animals, fish, or reptiles; from stones and metals; with a mixture which is more useful to be ignorant of. They are sometimes reduced into powders, sometimes into liquids, and sometimes even into ointments.
[margin: Grillandus, question 3, numbers 16 and 17; question 5, number 7]
Grillandus says that other poison-workings are extrinsic. Such are, first, those which are done by words alone. In these I have already taught that, by pact, all things are done by the demon at the appointed sign. Such also are those in which, as he says, they secretly sew sortileges composed under some waxen form into the cloak of the person to be harmed, or hide them in his bed, or in some underground place after a pit has been made, or under the threshold of the door over which the person to be destroyed is going to pass, or in some other underground place after a pit has been made. He adds that some take the remains of those whom they wish to infect; others exhume the dead and use either their clothing, flesh, fat, or bones; others borrow certain things from hanged persons.
I find that this was not unknown to the ancients. Thus Horace sings of Canidia burying in a pit and covering with earth a freeborn boy, after many cuts had been made and his badges of birth had been snatched away, so that she might prepare:
A cup of love from the dried marrow and parched liver, after he had changed his long meals two or three times, dying at the sight of food; when he projected from the ground with his face, as suspended bodies project from the water by the chin, until the pupils, once fixed on the forbidden food, had wasted away.
There you have child-murder, and there you have the philtering harmful magic.
Elsewhere, with respect to hostile harmful magic, Horace says of the same woman, using bitter ashes in sacred rites:
O old woman, not worn out by the filth of your fathers, and skilled in scattering among the graves of the poor the ninth-day ashes.
[margin: Horace, Ode 17]
She observed this day, therefore, from the three threes, just as another observed threads marked with three colors.
But Lucan most openly supports what I have said. First he depicts Erichtho as dwelling in naked tombs and inhabiting burial mounds after the shades have been driven out. Then he adds, first about the killing of human beings, and then about the magical instruments which I mentioned:
She buries living souls in the tomb, and bodies still ruling their own members; death enters unwillingly when the Fates still owed them years. With funeral procession reversed, she carried bodies back from the tombs; corpses fled death. She snatches smoking ashes of youths and bones from the midst of burning pyres, and the very torch which parents held, and fragments of the death-bed flying with black smoke, and garments flowing into ashes, and limbs smelling of funeral embers.
These things she customarily snatched from pyres. He soon adds what she takes from tombs:
But when bodies are preserved in stones, from which inward moisture is drawn off, and the bodies harden with the extracted decay of the marrow, then she ravenously rages against all the limbs, plunges her hands into the eyes, rejoices to dig out the frozen orbs, and gnaws the dry growths of the pale hand.
He then speaks of hanged persons:
[margin: Lucan, Pharsalia, book 6]
With her own mouth she broke the noose and the fresh knots, tore hanging bodies, scraped off crosses, plucked out viscera beaten by storms, and marrow not cooked through, the sun having been admitted. The iron driven into the hands, the black gore dripping through the limbs, the condensed poison, she took away; and she hung from the sinew while the bite held fast.
Then of the unburied:
And whatever corpse lies on the bare earth, before beasts and birds she sits, and does not wish to cut the limbs with iron or with her own hands, but awaits the bites of wolves, intending to seize the limbs from dry jaws.
For they thought that what had been snatched from beasts was more effective than what the witches themselves had cut off. He then continues, showing how she even slaughters the living and abuses their blood and entrails:
Nor do her hands cease from slaughter; if there is need of living blood, the first throat that opens bursts forth. She does not shrink from murder; if her rites demand warm blood, and her funeral table demands quivering entrails.
He also adds the following about offspring cut out or abortive:
From the wound of the belly, not where nature called it, the fetus is drawn out to be placed on warm altars.
He adds that, if she needs the soul of a young man or of a man violently killed, so that she may call it up, she kills without distinction those whom she wishes:
And whenever there is need of savage and brave shades, she herself makes the Manes. Every death of human beings is in use. She tore the flower of the cheek from a young body, and cut the left lock from a dying youth. Often too, in the dear funeral of a kinsman, the dire Thessalian lay upon the limbs, fixed kisses on them, cut off the head, opened the mouth by seizing it with her teeth, and, biting off the tongue sticking in the dry throat, poured murmurs into the frozen lips, and sent some secret wickedness down to the Stygian shades.
You see that this most careful poet tried to omit nothing, as is his custom.
Lucius Apuleius in the Milesian book 2 has the same sense:
For not even the graves of the dead are said to be safe from Lamiae; but from tombs and pyres certain remains and cuttings of corpses are sought for the destructive fortunes of the living. Chanting old women, at the very moment of the funeral preparation, with swift speed anticipate the burial of another.
Another person adds to these words:
Indeed, they spare no living persons either, and someone, having suffered something similar, was mutilated with his face and nose deformed in every way.
See the hostile harmful magic about which Lucan had spoken concerning the same Thessalian women. Apuleius then narrates something which seems very probable to have been true:
Therefore Telephron began: “I, as a young ward, having set out from Miletus for the Olympic spectacle, since I desired also to visit these places of this famous province, after traveling through all Thessaly and under ill omens, came to Larissa. While I was wandering through every place and looking, with a very slender allowance, for relief for my poverty, I saw in the middle of the forum a certain tall old man. He stood on a stone and proclaimed in a clear voice: ‘If anyone wishes to guard a dead man, let him bargain about the price.’ I said to someone passing by, ‘What is this I hear? Are dead men accustomed here to run away?’ ‘Be silent,’ he answered. ‘You are quite a boy and a stranger, and deservedly do not know that you are in Thessaly, where witch women everywhere bite off the faces of the dead, and those are supplements for their magical art.’”
Telephron asks what the guard must do, and the man answers:
“First of all one must stay awake through the whole night with eyes open and unmoved, always fixed on the corpse; the gaze must not be turned aside anywhere, indeed not even obliquely. For the most wicked shape-shifters, turned secretly into any animal whatever, creep in and easily deceive even the eyes of the sun and of Justice. For they put on birds, and again dogs and mice, and indeed even flies.”
Here is the first harmful magic, a feigned metamorphosis and a secret entrance. The man continues:
“Then with dire incantations they overwhelm the guards with sleep.”
Here is the second, the sleep-inducing harmful magic which I had reserved for this place. He continues:
“No one can define what hiding places those very wicked women contrive according to their desire. If anyone has not returned the body whole, whatever has been cut off or diminished from it must all be supplied from his own face.”
Apuleius afterward inserts a very long narration foreign to our matter, and therefore I pass over the whole of it. The end of the matter was this. Telephron, hired for a thousand denarii, undertakes the watch. While he keeps vigil, he sees a small weasel fixedly staring at him. He drives it away, but is overcome with sleep. Meanwhile the witches, after taking off his nose and ears, exercise a substitute cruelty and apply wax shaped exactly like the parts removed. When Telephron hears this the next day from the talkative corpse, he begins to test himself, and:
When he touched his nose with his hand, his nose followed his hand. When he felt his ears, both fell off.
[margin: Porphyry, Life of Plotinus. See Justin, Apology to Antoninus; Athenagoras, Apology; Theophilus, book 3 to Autolycus; Origen, books 6 and 7 Against Celsus; Tertullian, Apology, chapter 7; Minucius, Octavius; Epiphanius, Heresies, chapter 26; and Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, book 5, chapter 1]
Thus, disabled in exchange for a thousand coins, he could not bear to return to his homeland; but, with the hair on both sides of his head uncovered, he concealed the wounds of his ears, and he decently covered the disgrace of his nose with a linen cloth tightly glued on.
The words of Fabius in Declamation 14 also apply here:
A deed which is said to disturb the gods above, to shake down the stars with charms, to search tombs and pyres, and, with corpses amputated, to arm the impious hands themselves for crimes.
I explained the hands of corpses when I was inquiring into sleep-inducing harmful magic. Beware lest for “themselves” you put “impious”; you will corrupt the text, not correct it.
The Gnostic heretics, imbued with the Magian discipline of Zoroaster, of whose books they also brought certain ones to light, loved human feasts, as Justin calls them, or Thyestean banquets, as Athenagoras and Theophilus call them, or the sacrament of infant-murder and then a meal, as Tertullian says. For they repeatedly stabbed an infant covered with meal, licked the blood, and divided the limbs among individuals, as Minucius, Epiphanius, and Eusebius narrate. The gentiles most falsely rolled this calumny upon all Christians.
In poisons only applied externally, very frequently the demon himself inflicts the harm. This seems more truly to happen in the poison with which, as Jubertus, a physician of Aquitaine, reports, if a stirrup is anointed, the rider himself must perish. I do not believe that this happens by the natural force of the poison, because I do not believe that the activity of any poison is so great that it immediately diffuses itself through so many coverings. Unless, perhaps, the things handed down about Stygian water are credible: that it penetrates every metal and, I believe, is contained only in the hoof of an ass. Certainly I should believe that only ass’s ears were born from an ass’s hoof. Grillandus reports certain things favoring Jubertus’s statement, but in those also I recognize the concurrence of the Devil by pact, not the force of poison.
Among these external things are the deep burial of pots under a threshold. Certainly their natural force does not attain the effect.
I find another species of hostile harmful magic, through a weapon imbued with an evil charm, in Meierus, in these words:
First of all Aurelianus tried by crime to extinguish for himself the whole royal stock, and by diabolical arts and harmful magic to advance toward the seat of the kingdom. The duke delivered his sword, dagger, and ring to a certain apostate monk and his associates, so that they might be dedicated by diabolical tricks and enchanted for accomplishing harmful magic through them. That monk, between Mongeya and Ligniacum, near the river Marne, summoned two demons to himself by his arts. He handed over to them the sword, ring, and dagger so that they might work with them. Those instruments, initiated and enchanted by the demons and returned to the monk, and through him to Aurelianus, enchanted and maddened his brother King Charles so subtly that scarcely anyone could perceive it. The first enchantment was done at Beauvais, and it was so poisonous that the king’s nails and hair fell off. The second harmful magic was at Le Mans; in it there was so great a force that no mortal could judge whether the king was alive or not. For he lay without any sense or vital breath, so far as could be seen. But after he began to return to himself, he said, “I beg you, take away this sword which pierces my body, and my brother Aurelianus does this to me.”
I pass over the fact that a French booklet printed at Paris about Henry III narrates almost similar things concerning a ring given in our times by a brother to his brother King Charles IX. Perhaps this was then fabricated by royal enemies and should be condemned with slanderous booklets.
I suspect that two matters which I once observed in civil law should be referred to this harmful magic. I only suspect it, but more strongly about the former: namely the peculiar crime of the Arabs which they called scopelism. We know that Arabs today are devoted to harmful magic, and Seneca teaches that they were so of old when he introduces Medea seeking poisons from Arabia. And that immense terror which was struck into even strong and powerful lords of fields by stones set up could scarcely have arisen from any other source. Therefore I suspect that the reason why those detected or convicted of scopelism were punished with death was not that there was anything of sacrilege in this crime, as Jacob Menochius thought in his work on arbitrary judgments, but that a crime of harmful magic lay beneath it. Otherwise mere threats of death, however frequent the crime, would not have been punished so severely; and the lords would have warded off the danger by armed force.
Let students of law consider this when they read the law “Cum quaedam,” Digest, On Extraordinary Crimes. These are its words:
[margin: Menochius, On Arbitrary Judgments; Digest, On Extraordinary Crimes]
In the province of Arabia they call the crime scopelism, and the nature of the act is this. Many people are accustomed to scopelize the farm of an enemy, that is, to place stones as a sign that, if anyone cultivated that field, he would perish by an evil death through the snares of those who had set the stones. This thing has so great a terror that no one dares to approach that field, fearing the cruelty of those who made the scopelism. The provincial governor is accustomed to prosecute this matter severely, even to capital punishment, because the thing itself threatens death.
Thus Ulpian. Our Pineda, in his copious commentary on Job, interprets that passage of this crime: “But with the stones of the regions will be your covenant,” chapter 5, verse 23. Read him. It is not yet clear to me whether the passage should be taken of this crime.
I also have a suspicion about harmful magic in the crime of purse-workers, concerning which the jurist says that by this name are called those “who, practicing forbidden arts, subtract one part from purses and take away another part.” For I think that not just any cutters or snatchers of purses, balantioklephtai, are called purse-workers, but those who use forbidden, that is magical, arts as an aid to this; such as those who in gaming are called by the Spaniards “loading the die.” For the other common pickpockets are simply counted among thieves, just as the one about whom Virgil says:
And the juice and milk are stolen from the flock and the lambs.
And as that man in Plautus says:
I offer him a great cup; he drinks it. He lays down his head, mixes his elbow. I take away his ring.
[margin: Pietro Gregorio, Syntagma Iuris, book 37, chapter 14, number 7]
Nor do I agree with Pietro Gregorio, who refers these two examples to purse-working in book 37 of the Syntagma Iuris, chapter 14, number 7.
[margin: Nider, last book of the Formicarius; Remigius, book 2, chapter 7; Apuleius, book On the Ass or Metamorphoses]