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From "The Golden
Legend ," by Jacobus de Voragine, A.D. 1275
And so an whole year he [St. Roch] visited the houses of poor men, and
they that had most need, to them he did most help, and was always in
the hospital. And when he had been long in the hospital of Piacenza,
and had helped almost all the sick men therein, about midnight he heard
in his sleep an angel thus saying:
O Rocke, most
devout to Christ, awake and know that thou art smitten with the
pestilence, study now how thou mayst be cured.
And anon he felt
him sore taken with the pestilence under his both arms, and he thereof
gave than kings to our Lord. And he was so sore vexed with the pain,
that they that were in the hospital were deprived of their sleep and
rest of the night, wherefore S. Rocke arose from his bed and went to
the utterest place of the hospital, and lay down there abiding the
light of the day.
And when it was day the people going by saw him, and accused the master
of the hospital of offence, that he suffered the pilgrim to lie without
the hospital, but he purged him of that default, saying that: The
pilgrim was smitten with the pestilence as ye see, and unwitting to us
he went out.
Then the citizens incontinent put out S. Rocke from the city and
suburbs, lest by him the city might be the more infected. Then S.
Rocke, sore oppressed with fervent pain of the pestilence, suffered
patiently himself to be ejected out of Piacenza, and went into a
certain wood, a desert valley not far from Piacenza, always blessing
God. And there as he might he made him a lodge of boughs and leaves,
always giving thankings to our Lord, saying: O Jesu, my Saviour, I
thank thee that thou puttest me to affliction like to thine other
servants, by this odious ardour of pestilence, and most meek Lord, I
beseech thee to this desert place, give the refrigery and comfort of
thy grace.
And his prayer finished, anon there came a cloud from heaven by the
lodge that S. Rocke had made within boughs, whereas sprang a fair and
bright well, which is there yet unto this day. Whose water S. Rocke
drank, being sore athirst, and thereof had great refreshing of the
great heat that he suffered of the pestilence fever.
There was nigh unto that wood a little village in which some noblemen
dwelled; among whom there was one well beloved to God named
Gotard,which had great husbandry, and had a great family and household.
This Gotard held many hounds for hunting, among whom he had one much
familiar, which boldly would take bread from the board. And when Rocke
lacked bread, that hound, by the purveyance of God, brought from the
lord's board bread unto Rocke. Which thing when Gotard had advertised
oft that he bare so away the bread, but he wist not to whom ne whither,
whereof he marvelled, and so did all his household.
And the next dinner he set a delicate loaf on the board, which anon the
hound by his new manner took away and bare it to Rocke. And Gotard
followed after and came to the lodge of S. Rocke, and there beheld how
familiarly the hound delivered the bread to S. Rocke.
Then Gotard reverently saluted the holy man and approached to him, but
S. Rocke, dreading lest the contagious air of the pestilence might
infect him, said to him: Friend, go from me in good peace, for the most
violent pestilence holdeth me.
Then Gotard went his way and left him, and returned home, where, by
God's grace, he said thus to himself all still: This poor man whom I
have left in the wood and desert, certainly is the man of God, sith
this hound without reason bringeth to him bread. I therefore, that have
seen him do it, so ought sooner to do it, which am a Christian man.
By this holy meditation Gotard returned to Rocke and said: Holy
pilgrim, I desire to do to thee that thou needest, and am advised never
to leave thee.
Then Rocke thanked God which had sent to him Gotard, and he informed
Gotard busily in the law of Christ.
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