Month of June

not place me in a foreign grave, nor hold back my relics, so that they may be carried back to their own place. At these words, he was struck by the axe, and immediately blood and milk flowed from his wounds, so that all who stood by were amazed. Many of the Greeks, when they saw that event, and noticed the patience and constant and immovable faith of the victorious martyr, changed their former counsel and opinion. Having thus become Christians, they were more confirmed by the things which that holy man had predicted; for everything which had been foretold by that blessed martyr was fulfilled, so that many others also were on that account converted to the faith of Christ. The holy ^A Victor and the blessed Stephana were martyred on the fourteenth day of the month of November in the city of Damascus, in the reign of Antoninus and under the duke Sebastian. Wherefore, may there be glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

MENSIS JUNIUS.

DE S. SAMPSONE XENODOCHO CONSTANTINOPOLI.

(Anno 530 vel 531, Junii die 27.—Acta SS. Bolland. ad hanc diem, Græce et Latine.)

PRELIMINARY COMMENTARY.

§ 1.—Auctor Vitæ S. Sampsonis Symeon Metaphrastes.

Leo Allatius, in his *Diatriba* on the writings of the Symeons, where he treats more fully of Symeon Metaphrastes, rejects as clearly not his many Lives of the saints which pass everywhere under his name, both because they prefer other authors and because they differ greatly from the method of writing, style, and age of the Metaphrast; yet he designates certain others as the genuine offspring of the author, from which a judgment can be formed regarding the rest. Concerning the *Life of Sampson the Xenodochus*, however, he pronounced nothing, perhaps because he was not permitted to see the Greek text; for it is difficult to give a judgment as to the genuine offspring of an author unless you hear him speaking in his own idiom. We shall provide below that Life, written in Greek, which we have obtained from the Medicean manuscript of the King of France. But in order that it may appear that it was composed by Symeon Metaphrastes, and what his formula and manner of writing were, it is helpful to append here, from Michael Psellos, his encomiast, a few details such as are found in Leo Allatius in the aforementioned *Diatriba*. ^C

2. For the prefaces to his discourses, touching immediately upon the subject matter and advancing with some gravity, reveal the intent of the composition; and having summarized the entire thesis of some of the discourses, he immediately divides it into parts and adapts it to both the persons and the times. And while the color of the discourse is the same in all, and the quality of the style is one, the change of character is varied and, as one might say, technical—not because he changes the events for the sake of the technique, but because he interprets the style appropriate to each of the occurrences and persons encountered. As he gazes upon the more ancient things as archetypes, he does not depart from them, so that he may not appear to be doing something else and, contrary to the example, reshaping the whole idea—not by changing the material, but by correcting what was flawed in the forms, not by innovating in the concepts, but by transposing the shape of the language, and...

the discourse does not become confused or troubled by the shifting of subjects." Which Allatius translates thus: ^A "To have been a friend, and indeed very intimate with a man established in the highest dignity, namely Leo, who was included in the order of the patricians and the praepositi, and who performed the duties of the Droungarios of the fleet, and also fulfilled the office of the Logothete of the Drome," which are among the highest offices of the Constantinopolitan republic.

...subject, and proceeding but a little way, he indicates the purpose of his writing; and in several orations, when he recapitulates the whole subject according to its total, he immediately divides it into parts. He adapts himself, however, to persons and times, and indeed for all there is the same color of oratory and a single quality of diction; but the change of character is varied, and, as one might say, artful, not changing facts through art, but interpreting what was appropriate to each incident of thing and person. And as if looking toward archetypal examples and more ancient things, he does not depart from them, lest he seem to be doing something else, and he transforms the entire form of expression toward the exemplar, not making the material different, but correcting that which was a mistake in the genre of speech; and not innovating upon the meanings, but turning the figure of the diction, so that the speech, falling into a diversity of narrations and a variety of arguments, is not confused or troubled," etc.

^B ...if anyone compares the author of this along with the Proemium, he will recognize the Metaphrast in it: for in the very beginning of his writing, he signifies the scope and intent of his work; then, he exposes what documents he had for weaving together the history of Sampson; which, although they were composed in an unlearned and barbaric manner, he nevertheless professes that he will follow, although he embellishes them in a better style by his metaphrastic art. If then you consider the entire form of this writing, the style, and the frequent use of proverbs, eruditely running hither and thither, and all those things along with his genuine and native fruits—about which it is agreed among Allatius in the aforementioned Dissertation—you will find the Metaphrast everywhere. Moreover, the author of this Life renders us certain in the Proemium that he has diligently transcribed the labors and struggles of many other saints, indeed martyrs, and the lives and deeds of confessors, and that in Constantinople, where the tomb of St. Sampson shone with heavenly miracles; from there he also narrates those miracles which he either saw with his own eyes, or heard himself from eyewitnesses; to whom of the authors of that time will these be ascribed, if not to the Metaphrast?

^C ...some have dreamed, but that he excelled in the highest dignity of the republic, inasmuch as he is called by the name of Magister and Logothete; which is the office of those who know and judge fiscal or public accounts, and so direct expenses and revenues that they sustain the role of the republic rather than that of private individuals; that the Metaphrast was of this dignity, I say, the reader will find clearly demonstrated by our Bollandus in the general Preface to the Lives of the saints, cap. 1, §3, and more fully by Allatius in the aforementioned Dissertation. That our author was of such dignity in the republic, one may conjecture from the fact that in Life no. 12 he asserts himself to be a friend...

^D ...for what reason I do not know, he had fallen, and no one dared to intercede for the wretched man, because access to the patrician lay open with difficulty, and he was harsh in the congress of speech, especially among the household servants; the author of this Life alone, because of that authority and grace which he possessed with the patrician Leo, undertook to intercede so as to obtain pardon for the wretched man from his stubborn mind, as he himself relates in the aforementioned place. From this it is proper to infer that this man also was of extraordinary dignity and authority, and worthy to be admitted into the friendship and familiarity of so great a man. Therefore, the style and formula of writing of Symeon the Metaphrast agree with our author, the plan of life agrees, the dignity agrees; now it remains to see whether it can agree with his age.

...of Leo the Philosopher, who died in the year 909, is evident from the testimony of the man himself in the Life of S. Theoctiste, where he says: "Once, when I was on the island of Paros; for I was sailing to Crete, having been sent there by the blessed Leo; Leo, I say, that truly fortunate emperor, who seems to have buried the very happiness of the Romans with himself in the tomb: I was sent, however, campaigning together with that most famous Hemerios, as one most experienced in leading armies, the prefect of the drome, who also commanded the entire fleet... I was being sent, therefore, partly campaigning with him, and to be advanced to some proof of strategic skill, as a foal leaping with its mother toward the most noble of strategies—for that was what the Augustus was especially looking for—partly...

that I might serve as an envoy to the Arabs holding Crete,” ^A in his preface, that Metaphrastes at that time was not very advanced in age, as one who was ordered to lay the foundation of imperial virtue under a veteran leader, and had been assigned to him as a *πῶλος μητρί*, “as a foal to its mother,” and he attributes to him only an age of twenty or twenty-two years. Allatius, however, referring this comparison not to age but to docility and discipline from the final words, “partly that I might serve as an envoy to the Arabs holding Crete,” concludes that Metaphrastes was of a more advanced age in this expedition, one capable of sustaining authority and the prudence required in an envoy; for this reason he attributes to him forty years, or at least thirty-five. He eruditely compiles many things besides these and others of great weight, whence he renders his opinion probable.

[These arguments] do not settle the matter, and only prove that this happens commonly according to the ordinary course of human affairs, not absolutely that it never happened otherwise. For youth is sometimes capable of the greatest things, both in military service and in the republic, especially if prudence and an outward appearance of the body, as we have sometimes seen, supply the defect of age. To pass over others, Scipio Africanus, as Roman history holds, when twenty-four years old, was sent as commander to Spain, ^B which in the space of four months he wrested from the Carthaginians. Pompey the Great, as witnessed by Cicero in the *Oratio pro lege Manilia*, “was himself the commander of the highest armies at the beginning of his youth;” and yet how much prudence and experience in affairs is required in managing and directing an army! It is worth recording here what Beyerlinck reports in *Theatrum vitæ hum.*, under the word *Legatus*: “There had come,” he says, “in a former age to the emperor of the Orient beardless envoys, whom, when he despised because they were sent as being too young, they freely and boldly said: If aptitude and dignity are to be judged by the down on the chin, goats would have the better part.”

10. What therefore happened in a few cases cannot be excluded in Metaphrastes, especially since Michael Psellos, his own eulogist, extols his innate and, as it were, natural prudence in these words: “And his unmatched power over all, and incomparable, was present from his first, so to speak, birth, and from the already flourishing hair, just as the whelps of lions, immediately displaying their brow, and the shagginess of their neck-hair. For the flowers of understanding blossomed in him, and his wisdom had a certain deep root, and his mind flashed with something marvelous. These things, however, were sufficient for perfection in others, but in him they were recognized as fore-sketches of a character that was perfect.” These are rendered thus from the interpretation of Allatius: ^C “And he showed his powers, or should I say, his nature, from his birth, even when his hair was flourishing; not otherwise than lion cubs immediately show their brow and the thick mane of their neck. For the flowers of understanding were budding, and he had a certain deep root of prudence, and his mind shone with a certain admirable brightness. These things indeed would have sufficed for perfection in others; in him, however, were recognized, as it were, certain previously described figures, which fore-signified his perfect character.” What wonder then, if Metaphrastes had performed some embassy at that time, being advanced in prudence more than in age? Perhaps he was even added to other older envoys for the sake of honor, so that, just as under Himerius, a veteran leader of military affairs, so under them he might lay the rudiments of politics among foreign nations.

11. What is therefore possible to have happened, let us suppose, and in the last year of Leo the Philosopher, of the common era 911, let us attribute to Symeon Metaphrastes the age of thirty or thirty-two years. He could then have reached the times of Nicephorus Phocas (who in the sixty-second year of the same century attained the empire of the Orient) and, older than an octogenarian, have even worked on some things. This being supposed, let us see if this chronology can accord with our author, who, narrating in number 19 the miracle that happened to Bardas the protospatharios, says: *Σφόδρα δὲ οὗτος Ῥωμανῷ βασιλεῖ τῷ ἐπιεικεῖ τε καὶ χρηστῷ προσῳκείωτο, ὃν καὶ ἴσασι πάντες, υἱὸν Κωνσταντίνου γενέσθαι, τοῦ, τὰ πάντα συνελόντα εἰπεῖν, βασιλικωτάτου.* “There had intervened a great familiarity between him (Bardas) and the Roman emperor, benign and clement, whom all know to have been the son of Constantine, who (to say everything at once) was a most royal emperor,” with which words he seems to speak of Romanus, the son of Constantine Porphyrogenitus, as already dead, unless perhaps it can be rendered: “For there was a great familiarity between him and the Roman emperor, whom all know to be the son of Constantine;” and thus it could be referred to the times of the Roman emperor who held the empire from the year 960 to 963, otherwise it must be transferred to the times of his successor, Nicephorus Phocas, and so there is nothing here that conflicts with the age of Metaphrastes.

12. But the number 15 of the envoys, as it has been translated in Surius, worries me, namely: “He requests from the good John (for he was at that time holding the empire) that the care of this house be entrusted to him;” where John Zemisces is indicated, who began to reign in the year 969, to whose times Metaphrastes can hardly reach, unless we confess that he wrote this Life at an age greater than ninety. On which account I think Constantine should be written instead of John: and I am the more easily led to believe this because in our Greek manuscript the name John is not written entirely, but only with two initial letters *Ἰω*. In the authentic [text], therefore, the name Constantine would have been written by abbreviation with only the first two or three letters, *Κὼν*; whence, worn away by the erosion of time, in the first letter *Κ*, with two transverse li

lines, and the final letter perhaps ^A *v*, only *Iw* may have remained. From this history he thinks, which it likely contains, that they made it a hospital and John the founder. Since, therefore, these things can be explained so conveniently, and all the rest corresponds to Metaphrastes, nothing hinders our attributing to him the Life of St. Sampson, which he composed in his decrepit old age, after he had brought to light, as he himself confesses, the deeds of many martyrs and confessors.

Regarding Sampson, being built by Justinian at his request, whereas Procopius says it was restored, because the same Sampson had already built it beforehand. Truly, that first building of Sampson’s was so small, and that which was made by Justinian was so illustrious and so magnificent, that Metaphrastes does not seem to have detracted at all from the truth. What Baronius adds concerning the conflagration of his hospital, which he supposes to have happened then, when the temple of Holy Sophia was burned under Anastasius; it is clear in the histories that this church was not once subject to fires; but Procopius reports in book 1 *De aedificiis* and book 1 of the *Persian War*, chapter 24, and Theophanes under the fifth year of Justinian, that this hospital was set on fire in the fifth year of Justinian. Perhaps the ^B Life of Sampson, which begins, *Ἀλλὰ μὲν χάριτος ἔργου και θεραπείας, τῆς πρὸς τὸν μέγαν Σαμ* etc., is preserved in manuscript in the Vatican and Vallicellian libraries in Rome; likewise in the Florentine and Turin libraries. Long ago it was extracted for us from a manuscript codex, as I have already said, from the Medici library of the Most Christian King, under this title, *Βίος καὶ πολιτεία τοῦ ὁσίου Πατρὸς ἡμῶν Σαμψὼν τοῦ ξενοδόχου*, "The Life and Conversation of our holy Father Sampson, receiver of guests." Lipomanus printed the Latin in volume 6, and Surius in volume 2; according to the interpretation of Gentian Hervet: which same version I also retain here, though changed in a few small items, having collated it with the Greek text.

§ II. — Time of death.

14. As far as the age of Sampson is concerned, Metaphrastes (Menologion of Basil Porphyrogenitus, unpublished, part 11) say that he flourished under the Emperor Justinian, ^C inasmuch as he was delivered from an incurable disease by the same saint while he was still alive; and, so that he might offer thanks for such a great benefit, he built a magnificent *xenodochium* for him, which was later called the Hospital of St. Sampson. But Cardinal Baronius, in his Notes to the Roman Martyrology for this day, argues that all these are in error, for the reason that Procopius, who lived in those times and had these things before his eyes, book 1 *De aedificiis* of the Emperor Justinian, chapter 2, testifies that the Hospital of Sampson was erected by the same Sampson and was once consumed by fire; and since scarcely any remains were left, that same hospital was restored more magnificently by the same Emperor Justinian, and enriched with a large annual sum of money. ^D When, however, Metaphrastes in number 11 testifies that the said fire occurred after the death of Sampson, when the noble temple of Sophia was also burned, and Marcellinus in his *Chronicle* likewise testifies that it happened in the times of the Emperor Anastasius; the aforementioned Cardinal concludes that Sampson died long before the reign of Justinian; and from the same Procopius he much more refutes Cedrenus, when he says the house of Sampson was burned in the penultimate year of Justinian. It is helpful to append his words here: "Cardinal Baronius believes in his Notes to the Martyrology that Sampson was much older than Justinian, and that his reliability wavers, and he says of his age: *Ἀνήρ τις θεοσεβὴς ἐν τοῖς ἄνω χρόνοις, Σαμψὼν ὄνομα*. 'A certain pious man who flourished in the years above.' But this is also nothing; for Procopius wrote that book *De aedificiis*, where he has this, at the end of Justinian's reign, namely thirty-six or more years after the death of Sampson. His memory, however, flourished to such an extent that Justinian, in *Novella* 59 and 131, where he speaks of Sampson, says: *Ὁ τῆς ὁσίας μνήμης Σαμψών*, 'Sampson of holy memory;' which (to note in passing) since it was marked in ancient manuscripts with the single letters S. M., it was wrongly excepted in the Latin editions of *Novella* 131 as: Sanctae Mariae Sampson. But what I consider clearly in need of correction in Metaphrastes is the ratio of the time of Sampson's life and the years of the reign of Justinian; for that Sampson survived Bishop Menas is not well narrated by Metaphrastes, since it is clearly evident from *Novella* 59 that he died before the consulship of Behzarius. Furthermore, the publication of the same *Novella* and the election of Menas fall into almost the same time, namely around the eleventh year of Justinian; but indeed, nobody doubts that Sampson died before his fifth year. To this calculation must be recalled those things which are narrated by Metaphrastes concerning the fire of the hospital."

16. Yet the learned Alemannus, against what is thought here, says that the author of the Alexandrian Chronicle states that the hospital was very large at that time (namely, in the fifth year of Justinian) when he says: *Ξενὼν τοῦ Σαμψὼν ὁ μέγας ἐκαύθη, καὶ ἀπώλοντο οἱ ἐν αὐτῷ ἀνακείμενοι ἄῤῥωστοι*. 'The great xenodochium of Sampson was burned, and perish together those who were lying within it as patients.' But repaired and rebuilt by Justinian, it did not stand long afterward, since in the thirty-sixth year of the same emperor it burned again, as Theophanes writes and Cedrenus from him: *Τῷ λς' ἔτει γέγονεν ἐμπυρισμὸς μέγας, καὶ ἐκαύθη τελείως ὁ ξενὼν τοῦ Σαμψών*. 'In the (Justinian) 36th year a great conflagration occurred, and the xenodochium of Sampson was completely consumed.' Although it is agreed it was rebuilt afterward.

17. Wherefore Cedrenus is refuted in vain for an error

^A which is also found in the Synaxaria and the Menaea of the Greeks, which relates that Sampson was ordained priest by the Patriarch Menas of Constantinople; both because of the reasons brought forth above by Alemannus, and furthermore because that Menas, before he attained the patriarchal dignity, presided over the xenodochium of Sampson during the same reign of Justinian, which Sampson himself presided over as long as he lived, as Nicephorus of Constantinople reports in the *Patriarchs of Constantinople*, calling him the same, and Liberatus the deacon says of the same in chapter 2: "This Menas was the provost of the great xenodochium which is called Sampson, an Alexandrian by birth;" and so only after the death of Sampson was he elevated to the patriarchal dignity.

20. ^A Our Holy Father Sampson derived his origin from ancient Rome and was a kinsman of Constantine the Great: having divided all his wealth among the poor, and begging for Christ's sake, he betook himself to Constantinople, and was assiduous in prayer in the very churches of the holy Prophets. But while he led a private and obscure life, intent upon the meditation of the divine Scriptures, he became known to the most holy Patriarch Menas by his virtues, and was ordained by him a priest of the Great Church. Moreover, he was a salutary harbor for the poor and the infirm, being imbued with the science of the medical art. But when he had healed the Emperor Justinian of a difficult malady, he was greatly beloved by him; and having built a xenodochium for the solace of the poor and the sick, after many good deeds and miracles, he fell asleep in peace; but his body was deposited in the temple of the holy martyr Mocius.

21. The manuscripts of our college of Dijon and Clermont have similar things; now Ludovicus Magnus [Louis the Great] is added. In the following is added a distich:

The Xenodochium of Sampson

Cultus from the Menologies, Menaea, and other Fasti

22. The eulogy runs thus: This holy man [Sampson] was a Roman by birth; who, having scattered the wealth left to him by his parents upon the needy and the poor, captured the queen of cities, and having occupied the houses of prayer and the venerable places, and having enjoyed their holiness, taking up quietude, he delighted in the inspired Scriptures, attending to God alone. Whence, having become manifest to the most honorable Patriarch Menas, he is ordained by him a priest, having become one of the clergy. And he was a saving harbor for the poor and those in need of help; and being himself experienced in the medical science, he freed the Emperor Justinian, who had fallen into an incurable malady. From this, the king

^A having conceived a great admiration for the virtue of the man and rendering him honor, erected through him a very great and celebrated house, established a xenodochion, and appointed this Saint as custodian of the sacred vessels of the Great Church. He himself, having lived well and in a manner pleasing to God, and having become the author of salvation for many, and having stirred up many toward the zeal and imitation of his own blameless life, rested there. His precious body was deposited in the great temple of Saint Mocius, every day pouring forth healing streams of medicinal waters to the praise and glory of Christ our God.

24. The name of this saint is also found inscribed on this day in the Syriac or Chaldean Calendar, printed at Rome in the year 1624, which D. Josephus once rendered into Latin, and Symon Moyses into Italian, both of whom were alumni of the Maronite college. ^B Mention is also made of him in the Arabic-Egyptian Martyrology, which Gratia Simonius the Maronite, afterwards archbishop of Tripoli in Syria, translated from the Arabic. In this Martyrology he has the following prayer, common to him and Saint John the Almsgiver: "You possessed all things, O holy Father Sampson, while in all things you were ever assiduous, enriching the poor, and feeding and relieving them; pray to Christ God, that He may free our souls."

OF OUR HOLY FATHER SAMPSON

LIFE AND CONVERSATION

PROLOGUE

^C 1. Rendering, on the one hand, gratitude and due service to the great Sampson, and on the other hand, avoiding the just reproach of men, we have turned our own efforts to this present discourse, and have willingly shouldered the burden of writing his life. For how would we not be rightly and justly reproached if, having diligently composed the labors and struggles of many other saints, both martyrs and those who otherwise pleased God, as well as the lives and deeds of the latter, we should seem to hold in neglect this great Sampson ^D

and that, too, when he is so near us and almost a neighbor to us by his wonder-working tomb? Add to this that we have found none of those who preceded us who was of the same mind as we are, and who has labored diligently to write down his life. I am not unaware that an encomium on the Great Sampson was composed by a pious man and a bishop, who was not a little learned; but by life, I mean one composed section by section, which accurately narrates his achievements while also providing a sufficient record of his miracles. For this, we have neither known any others to have done to this day, nor are we ourselves able to do so, being far removed in time; unable to set forth the things of his life well, except to browse through them somewhat more carefully and to set forth a few of his miracles to the pious for the glory of God. ^B For the little work on his Life, which we happened upon having received it from the clergy, seemed to us not only composed negligently, but it also testifies that he who composed it possessed no learning; indeed, even the things he relates are not handed down with sufficient perfection and completeness, and fall far short of ultimate perfection. Furthermore, we found that the work we used for a long time has it similarly, and is made from the same (as they say) vessel; and that it is indeed inscribed as an Encomium of the divine Sampson, and contains a certain peculiar narrative of those things which were done by him in his life, but it affords to good men a taste of his miracles only very sparingly and meagerly. What troubles us most of all is that we even ourselves ^C are compelled to follow their narrative (for we have nothing from elsewhere) because we are about to follow them, especially when it is positioned so very close to an explanation of his deeds (for there is nothing else available). For this reason, we ask for pardon from those who read what has been worked out by us, that they may not condemn us for negligence, nor dismiss this unexamined narrative as if it were sloth. For the work set before us is not our own, as we have said, but rather a following of the traces of others. Therefore, the saying of Herodotus will have its place here: that it is rather the shoe of Histiaeus, even if Aristagoras put it on. It is indeed thus.

CAPUT I. Sampson's birth, fatherland, study, kindness to the poor and the sick; benefit toward the emperor, death.

^D II. This great Sampson, whose fame has pervaded the whole world, drew his lineage from the famous and illustrious Rome. And he did not proceed from obscure or common parents, but from those very noble and renowned, whose wealth was indeed great, and whose lineage was traced from the blood of the emperor. But although the external affairs of this greatest of men were thus, he never neglected his internal ones. For he took great care of virtue, and was intent on the reading of the divine Scripture, and as

he was assiduous in this most delightful nourishment, he arrived in a short time at a complete knowledge of it. Nor did this most philanthropic man neglect medicine, that art which is so conducive to human welfare. But he applied himself to it with great diligence, and although he made very little use of the art for profit, he nevertheless yielded to the ministry of divine grace for the sake of the poor, curing immedicable diseases, and employing the art as a veil for grace out of an excess of humility. ^C III. When his parents had departed this life, he no longer hesitated or delayed; but, having seized a favorable opportunity, as there was no one to hinder him, he did what seemed right to him. He exchanged his perishable and temporal wealth for eternal riches, in accordance with the divine voice of the Lord, which commands one to sell what one has and to provide alms, and thereby to acquire purses that do not grow old. He gave his wealth away, not sparingly, nor dripping drop by drop, but abundantly and freely, pouring it out with, as the saying is, "both hands" into the bellies of the poor and the hungry; and this not once or twice, but throughout his whole life, for almsgiving was born and bred with him until the end. He no longer desired that herds of slaves should remain with him, nor did he exercise arrogant authority over his fellow-servants, but rather deemed them worthy of freedom in a noble manner, providing them with enough to suffice for their livelihood. For what need had he of the servitude of men, who had consecrated himself as a sincere slave to the Lord? Being thus disposed toward his possessions, and having cast off his temporal goods as if they were bonds, he was truly light and unencumbered, being content with a single tunic and a single servant. Then, having left Rome, Gennadas [as he was then known] appears in this new Rome, I mean the city of the divine Constantine. What cause moved him to this, I cannot say; but it was certainly not without the will of God, nor was he to spend his time in this royal city in vain, for his sacred body is laid to rest here—an inviolable treasure, inexhaustible wealth, and a remedy for all diseases. ^D IV. The great Samson in every respect, having arrived in this great city, lived in a certain small and lowly house, but he was most assiduous in the care of his neighbor. For, having made this house a monument of philanthropy and a free infirmary, he would receive and fraternally treat those who were oppressed by sickness; and he would not only deem them worthy of all care, as the laws of the art require, but would also provide them with food and bedding in accordance with the commandments of Christ, thus demonstrating partly the art and, even more, the gifts of grace. For is it the work of art to drive out demons and to perform the miraculous healing of incurable diseases, and is it a simple thing that he should easily perform such deeds, just as if it were a matter of mere willing?

^A For Samson, hospitality and kindness toward the needy and compassion for them were so ingrained that they became almost a necessity of his nature, just as it is for the sun to shine and for fire to burn. Hence he also became known to the one who was then the Pontiff of Christ, for the splendor and glory of goodness quickly make known those who practice it. This man was Menas, a person not obscure in virtue. By him he was ordained priest, having already reached thirty years of age, and a little more. Subsequently, he also became known to the one who was governing the empire; and this happened for the following reason.

^B V. Justinian was the one who ruled, whose reign was of long duration and his life illustrious. A very grave disease attacked him, as his privy parts were in a bad condition, and his bladder suffered from a severe ulcer. He was suffering, groaning, and unable to bear the pains. A swarm of physicians was gathered around him and was present at his side—as is the custom—disputing with great zeal; they were very eager to make promises and to fill him with good hope, as they thereby also nudged the hand of the sufferer and prepared him to be more willing to make payments. Yet, in bringing the promised result to effect and in delivering the afflicted man from what was tormenting him, they were not only unable to do so shortly, but not even by long delay and procrastination, nor by utilizing the aid of a long time; but they were more ready to blame those who suffer for sluggishness, or even for a tendency toward the worse, as if they were not yielding to their instructions, or were not being careful about food and drink. Meanwhile, these excellent men did not attach any blame to themselves or to the medicines they used for the treatment. What, then, did the emperor do? After seeing that they said much and spoke great words, yet achieved nothing toward a cure—nay, rather, that they were causing injury and bringing on greater pains—and as he himself was being ^C battered by pains and could not endure them, he condemned all the physicians equally as useless, and ordered them to depart into oblivion. He fled instead to God, clinging to Him with great zeal and seeking help from Him. For there are times when even destitution becomes a teacher to us of what is profitable, and causes us to learn from where true help comes: "For my help," he says, "is from the Lord."

VI. Having therefore sought fervently, he did not fail to obtain it quickly, but in a dream there was shown to him a multitude of physicians standing in a row, yet wearing vestments befitting priests. He saw a certain eunuch approaching, clothed in a garment woven with gold and similar in attire to a Praepositus, who also seemed to be pointing out to him each of the physicians, ^D according to his face, age, and stature, until one

^A who was humble in appearance, graced by gray hair, and honest and composed in his vesture, was diligent to make him known to the Emperor and to ensure that he knew what manner of man he was in all things, and to say: "This one alone, and none of the others, can grant you deliverance from this affliction."

Now, when the Emperor was awakened from his sleep, judging the dream to be true (for He who had ordained that he should see these things also brought it about that he should believe, and was about to confirm by the deed what had been seen), he was filled with joy; and he immediately summoned his physicians. They all came together and stood before his eyes. He scrutinized each one, examining him with the utmost sharpness and testing him no less than the Lydian stone tests gold, [looking at] his face, his figure, and his age, according to the signs shown through the dreams. But as he saw no such sign in any of those who were present, he was seized with grief and perplexity, and he became even more thirsty [for the cure] ^B by failing to find the one who had been promised. Hence, a manifold, fervent, and keen search followed, with a promise of gifts and of the greatest honors, which he who should reveal the man being sought—in accordance with the symbols the Emperor had seen—was soon to receive. Thus, the man was being sought most eagerly, and the sign of recognition was not, as the myth knows of Pelops, from his shoulder, but from the abundance of his virtue and, predominantly, from his moderation and self-restraint.

VII.

Straightway the admirable Sampson came into his sight; for not even the briefest time elapsed between his being seen and his being heard, so strongly did the desire to behold him possess the Emperor. Having seen him, he well recognized from the things seen by night those which were appearing by day, such as the gentleness of his eyes, the cheerfulness of his countenance, the orderliness of his character, the squalor of his beard, and the dejection of his gaze—signs ^D that were to him tokens of modesty. When the Emperor, as the admirable man approached, had beheld these things, he could no longer contain himself; but rising from immense joy, he, who was illustrious in imperial dignity, embraced him who was vile and abject in appearance, and kissed him very affectionately, not only his mouth but also his head, saying: "Truly, you are the one, Father, you are the very one who appeared to me paradoxically in my dream, and furthermore promised to heal my affliction." Having spoken thus, he immediately entered further into the palace while holding fast

^A to the hand of the saint, for he did not consider that he was doing anything great in honoring him, whose wonder-working power he was soon to experience.

VIII. After the emperor had entered and had him seated with him, not yet satisfied with his kindness toward him, he did even more; taking his hands, he placed them upon his own eyes, and kissing them with, one might say, the utmost pleasure, he rejoiced while letting tears fall upon them. For the necessity of the ailment that pressed upon him caused him to appear as a man rather than an emperor, and one who was moved by human miseries rather than one who was exalted by imperial magnificence. ^B However, this great moderation and piety of the emperor caused grave annoyance and distress to the saint, and, as if he were suffering some injustice and being subjected to excessive molestation, he could not keep silent, but exclaimed: "Do not do so, O emperor, do not act so humbly and abjectly, nor by thus immoderately casting yourself down and debasing yourself, cause me to be condemned for arrogance. For in what am I superior to common men, I who am miserable and liable to sins, and in need of the great kindness and humanity of Christ? But this your abundance of faith and fervor is a certain messenger of the coming help from Christ, who is the King of kings and can do all things." Having spoken thus, he laid his hand upon the afflicted part; and it performed its work. But he, ^C wishing to conceal the abundance of grace through an abundance of humility, attempted to attribute the cure to certain medical remedies which he had applied to the suffering part. But the truth which was being concealed overcame the medicine that was being applied; and he who was known to be a worker of miracles in many other things was known to have performed a miracle in this also. For not many days passed before the emperor was entirely freed from the disease and enjoyed complete health, and was filled with joy and wonder—the former on account of the recovered health, the latter because he who had restored his health was in such close familiarity with God.

IX. Then also, to respond to the benefit of so great a cure, he gave gold to the blessed Sampson ^D in a splendid and magnificent manner, and all other things which desire is accustomed to solicit, at least for one who lives according to the flesh. But to him, to live sparsely and frugally was a good to be sought for its own sake, more blessed than any wealth, and more excellent than any glory or dignity. He certainly refused the emperor's liberality and munificence with timely and cogent apologies: "You give me, O emperor," he said, "those things which I willingly relinquished for the sake of Christ, having possessed many goods and having had many possessions. How, then, shall I receive those things without which I have clearly found it more useful to live, and by withdrawing from which I have clearly shown that I am joined to God? But if you wish, for your great kindness and

^A in some matter to show us favor, let it be done to God instead, and thus what has been done will pass to us also. This will be accomplished if, near my little hut, in which I myself dwell, you build a house for those suffering from sickness, into which, bringing those held by disease, I may provide for them according to my ability. For this will gain you a name worthy to be sung and will procure for you a reward that cannot be taken away." The emperor heard, and he received the request gladly, as a gift rather than a petition. And immediately (for he was at that time constructing the divine temple in the name of the Wisdom of God), he commanded that this also be built at the same time, with eagerness of soul, with a great number of workers, and with an abundance of all expenses, while he himself provided generously, and the project was completed according to the pleasure of the Great Man. ^B When it had been built very beautifully and magnificently, and was judged worthy of his name, it was immediately entrusted to him, and he himself was that divine Sampson, to whom the administration of the house had been committed.

X. The emperor also adds another gift worthy of imperial munificence. He consecrates to this holy house no small portion of his goods, and not without an excellent purpose, having been set apart by privilege—that which the wonderful Belisarius had brought to him from the land of the Assyrians, being in truth brilliant and noble. Then ^C he also strengthens the house with gifts of property, which were sufficient both for its other expenses and for the rations of the physicians and of those entrusted with other duties there. So, when the blessed man had continued for many years in the care of the sick, and had provided for all in a fatherly and very solicitous manner, since he had already descended into deep old age, and his body, being weak, was giving him the pains of death, he fell ill only a little, and in such a way that it served as a prelude and an occasion of death. He dies not despondent, nor burdened, nor ^D vexed by his departure, as are those souls that are lovers of the body and of the world, but peacefully and cheerfully, as one who accurately knew by whom he was called, and from what turmoil he was passing to what state of rest, and what delights were about to receive his blessed soul; for he knew the rewards of his labors, and the fruits of his seeds. His godlike and pure soul therefore passes on to heavenly dwellings; but his holy and sacred body to the

^A maximal temple of Mocius the martyr, where it is honorably deposited—inasmuch as the great man was said to draw his lineage from there, and to have a kinship not only in body, but even more so in soul and manner of life. And as for the many miracles by which he who is in all things most admirable was glorified, not merely during his life here, ^B but much more so after his death, neither is the tongue able to tell them, nor the ear to receive them. For how could it be otherwise, when the streams of his miracles have not ceased even to this day? Nay, they will not cease, so long as he remains the same and continues to use the same compassion while interceding with God on behalf of men. A few things, then, if it please you, for the glory of God and for the pleasure and benefit of those who hear, shall our discourse now take up, concerning those events that took place after his departure from here.

CHAPTER II. Miracles after death.

XI. And first, let this be recounted, which many tongues sing, and books record, and all men believe—that which happened during the popular uprising ^C directed against Justinian, that great and most illustrious emperor. At that time, companies of most audacious and reckless men, bearing fire, attacked the most glorious and wealthy buildings, and began their arson at the maximal temple of the Wisdom of God; and when it had consumed everything around it, the serpent crept as far as the glorious house of the divine Sampson, and quickly seized the roof, and, roaring, proceeded further; and it was thought that soon the whole house would be utterly destroyed. What, then, followed? Many hands, grateful and pious, moved in opposition around it, doing everything, leaving nothing unattempted of those things which could be done to restrain the rush of the fire. But the evil was unconquerable, and overcame all aid. Yet it was vanquished, and the care of the great Sampson became ^D more powerful. For there were—yes, there were!—those who were then accounted worthy to see the divine Sampson running all around the roof, rebuking the fire and, as it were, raging at it, and paradoxically checking its fury; at the sight of whom the fire, as if stunned, retreated and was restrained. Then, with a sudden crash of thunder, a torrential downpour of rain fell, so that the fire was extinguished, and the house was preserved unharmed, save for the roof.

^A XII. Let other miracles also be added—not such as happened many years ago, for lack of new and recent ones (since they do not cease even unto this day, imitating the perennially flowing rivers), but those which have occurred a short while ago, and which are therefore more credible; and which have been recounted both by those very persons who obtained the benefits, men veracious and haters of all falsehood, and by those who were their kin, or servants, or otherwise close to those in whom the miracles were wrought. Let Theodoritus be present, then, a Spatharocubicularius of distinction, whose virtue, uprightness, veracity, and utmost moderation of mind are most fully attested. He was a servant, and of the servants the most familiar and most faithful, to that Leo who was of the rank of patricians and praepositi, and who held the office of Drungarius of the fleet, and also the authority of Logothete of the Drome, in which office he finished his days, not more than five months at the most after the death of the other. To this Theodoritus, moreover, there was another companion from the number of those serving with him under the illustrious Leo, also named Leo, who was dear and familiar to his master. He was a Protospatharius, and, as is the custom to call them, of the Manclabium. ^B He was the closest friend of Theodoritus, and his like-minded companion in service. Now, the Drungarius having become incensed at this Leo for some cause, he banished him from his sight and stripped him of his accustomed freedom of access for no short time. I myself am a witness of the man’s harshness toward Leo, and I know of the aversion and the long-standing estrangement. For I, too, pleaded on behalf of Leo, being a friend and habitual associate of the Drungarius. Leo, therefore, was very grievously distressed and possessed by despondency, and he bore a grief that reached even to his very bones and marrow, and was consuming him strongly. Nor was it only Leo who was grieved; for Theodoritus, too, was pulling the same yoke, as it is said, and was sympathizing and suffering with him, yielding to the laws of friendship, as he was both a friend and a companion in service, as the narrative has already declared.

^C XIII. Since he could not endure to see Leo suffering in this way, he dared to approach their master with words (for the man was very difficult of access and hard to converse with, especially among servants), and he made a plea for him in a prudent manner. "Leo is perishing," he said, "Leo is perishing; there is fear that he might do some dire thing to himself, which we certainly would not wish, nor would we want to be responsible for his death." For the wretched man is now ^D

exhausted and wasted away, not bearing your aversion, and is on the verge of losing his very life. Having said this not once but many times, through persistent and timely persuasion he successfully reconciles his master to Leo; and he is ordered to bring him into his presence. He, ^A however, out of excessive joy and haste (as he perhaps had to go down some stairs), caught his foot and severely sprained it; he lay there speechless, immobile, and shattered by pain, and was with difficulty finally carried to his bed. Three days had passed, and he lay there on his back, mute, stupefied, without sleep or food, not even taking in water, nor moving at all; but he was as if nailed to the bed, and no different from an inanimate object. Yet, while silently beseeching the Saint, he sees him standing at the foot of the bed, touching the ankle of the affected foot and saying, "Arise, there will be no more harm for you." No sooner had he said this than he vanished, while Theodoritus watched, unable to speak from astonishment. When that great Sampson was far from his sight, Theodoritus returned to himself and was, as it were, animated by a new spirit and restored to himself; recovering also the use of his mouth and tongue, he glorified God with a joyful voice and whispered, "This Saint is Sampson"; and he immediately addressed his servant, saying, "Arise, Basil (for that was his name), and give me my garment, so that I may put it on." And at the same time, he touched his foot. Seeing it to be sound, he moved his hand to the other, which had been uninjured from the first. For the wonder of the thing rendered him almost out of his mind, and he was as one who had forgotten himself, and was doubting and hesitant. For excessive joy and an unexpected good, happening against all expectation, often unsettles the mind. When, however, he realized that both feet were sound, ^B immediately, with a nimble spirit and nimble feet, he hastened to the tomb of him who had bestowed the healing upon the wretch, and rendered back the received benefit, giving thanks piously, as a grateful and mindful soul is wont to do.

XIV. To this same Theodoritus it happened to assist in another miracle as well, which was performed upon his own master (it is already clear who this is). But how did it happen? When the Drungary Leo was riding one day, it happened that his horse struck a wall and injured his foot severely. Consequently, the foot was in a bad way, not for a short time, but for many days. Then, since it was shown in this state to the physicians, he was pressing them toward the necessary cutting and surgical operation. And it was already the fourth day, on which it had seemed good to the physicians to do so. And Nicolaus (who was also one of these who served the Drungary and frequented his house) had determined to perform the cutting himself. But on that night, three men ^C appeared to Theodoritus as he was entering the house of the Drungary, Roman in their appearance and dress. Meeting them, he asked, "Where are you going?" They, however, with a gentle voice and look, replied, "We are approaching your master." To these words, however, ^D

^A it occurred to Theodoritus to say: "But, my lords, are you unaware of how much pain the Drungarius is suffering at present, and that the physicians are intending to perform an amputation on his foot today?" They replied, "By no means, and do not believe this yourself. For we are to arrive at his house on Friday to examine his condition." Therefore, in the morning, when the physicians wished to set to work and perform the amputation on the foot, Theodoritus stopped them, immediately remembering the vision and explaining to them how it had occurred. When they understood this and piously judged that the vision was not to be disregarded, they refrained. When Friday arrived (O Thy miracles, Christ! "How wonderful art Thou, O God, in Thy saints!" ^B), the foot was as it had been before the injury—clean and entirely sound, in need not only of no amputation, but of no other treatment at all.

XV. This illustrious Leo obtained not only this miracle from the great Sampson, but another as well. Suffering from a most grievous disease, he had other parts of his body quite hindered, but his knees in particular were almost useless and unable to perform their function at all. For on level and flat ground, he could perhaps walk after a fashion, but climbing stairs or walking on sloping ground was for him a task greater than the labors of Hercules. ^C From all the physicians and others who promised him any assistance, he gained nothing beyond promises and good hopes. Then, when the remembrance of the Saint came upon him, he considered something more pious and better suited for a cure. Disregarding all others as useless, he approached his tomb. When he had come to it, he did not resort to any busy vacations, nor did he sit there for many days, but by prayer alone and the anointing of the oil that gushes from it, he anointed his aching knees. When this was done, he was immediately freed from the discomforts of the disease, and his feet were strengthened with most vigorous ^D power. Then, with his whole body healthy and his soul gladdened, he returned to his own home. However, wishing to show that this benefit had been bestowed not upon an idle man, unmindful of the favor he had received, but upon a man who was grateful and pious; since the house of this divine Sampson was then in poor repair and threatened to collapse, he offered his own money and necessary expenses—insofar as money and appropriate expenses were concerned—and asked the good Constantine (for he was the one then reigning) that the responsibility for restoring it be entrusted to him. And he indeed gave it, for he knew how great the man's industry and diligence were. When he had received it, he did not remit his efforts, but moved every rope, as the saying goes, laboring with hands and feet, and applied every effort to this task, until he restored it and, as far as lay within his power, ensured that it was in sound condition.

^A XVI. Nor should this be passed over, which points to both the one who suffered and the one who was healed—for it refers to both. The one who suffered was the illustrious Leo, and the divine Sampson was he who healed him. *Hyelos* is one of the diseases of those which corrupt the eyes of men, and this, having settled into the corner of his eye, pressed upon it severely. When a certain physician had cut it out, he caused more harm than benefit, to be excused only in this, that he did not inflict the injury deliberately. For the incision is very deep and extremely dangerous, yet the divine Sampson heals even this, by applying his ointment to it more frequently, with a very small opening left behind, and this on purpose and for the sake of utility. For through it a certain humor flows out easily, which proved very beneficial to both the eye and the head.

^B XVII. Let the miracle of Genesius also be added to the other miracles of the Great One; for besides the terror it contains, it also has its pleasant side, and is quite worth hearing. Now this Genesius was one of the clergy, and had for many years been a minister of this xenodochium; for his service there was not less than thirty years. He happened, however, to be slothful in it and altogether negligent. Therefore, one night, the Saint appeared to him and inflicted many blows upon him, saying, "Why do you not provide what the sick have need of, and why do you behave so negligently in this ministry of yours?" These things, moreover, did not occur in a dream, nor even in a mere vision, but were immediately made manifest by the deed itself. For in the morning, Genesius’s mouth was dumb, and bruises and swellings were manifest on his body, signifying what had been done no less than his tongue did. When he was asked what had happened to him—and was unable to explain—a paper was given to him, and he wrote down on it how the things that had occurred had taken place. Three days passed in the interval, and he was still speechless. But when the Drungarius had heard of what had been done, he could no longer contain himself, but immediately went to the holy house, desiring to hear more clearly through interrogation and response what had happened. Failing to find a way, however, due to the bonds that still constrained the tongue of the sufferer, he committed the matter to prayers: "Saint of God," he said, "thou knowest, thou knowest how great my faith is in thee, and how diligent I have been in thy ministry; grant that Genesius may recount in his own tongue what he has suffered." When he had prayed thus, he was not disappointed in his petition. Being asked by him, Genesius first stammered, speaking weakly and brokenly, and saying things that could be less understood. But as his tongue was gradually relaxed, he explained everything, adding also something about the house of the great Sampson; for it was because of that house that the indignation had especially arisen. This house, indeed, while the holy man still lived among men, was of no value and was despised; its transition to...

^A a temple has been effected in a pious and God-loving manner, and it is deemed worthy of the reverence that is proper to it.

XVIII. But indeed, the miracle performed for Eustratius—who is enrolled in the number of the protospatharioi (and is still living and extant)—is neither small, nor ordinary, nor unworthy of mention. For one of his eyes was hurting him, and very severely so. He had as a friend and acquaintance the protospatharius Leo, whom we have already mentioned as having served the Drungarios, and to whom the care of the xenodochion had been entrusted by him; and seeing him cast down by such great pains from his eye, he said: "If you do, friend Eustratius, that which I suggest to you, nothing will stand in your way, and you will have the eye in health." When Eustratius asked, "What is it that I must do?" he replied, "The xenodochion has need of oil; if you provide for this need, you will without doubt be healed; and if you wish, I will even furnish you with written guarantees of this." Thus he spoke, and the words did not just remain mere words, but even proceeded to their fulfillment. For Leo, relying on the power of the Great [Sampson] and on the miracles he had seen performed by him, gives Eustratius assurance through a document, which read as follows: "I, Leo, trusting in the power of the holy one and in the faith in which I am confirmed concerning him, pledge and guarantee to you, Eustratius, that because you are providing oil for the need of the house, the Great Sampson will also provide you with mercy from God, and your eye will no longer ache." And so the ^B Saint anticipated his own part, bringing about his [Eustratius'] gift, and Eustratius had his eye unharmed and free from pain. But he, as the saying goes, having obtained mercy, the memory of it died for him; for he disregarded what he had promised after he had obtained what he wanted, taking it very unworthily and dangerously, and he did not provide even the smallest bit of oil to the holy house. But when the Great One appeared to him by night (one must use his own words), he said, "Am I a laughingstock to you?" This vision made Eustratius come to his senses, gripped by fear; for at daybreak, having sent all the oil to Leo, he said, "I have now paid you the debt; do you yourself propitiate the holy one for me, for I cannot bear his threats."

XIX. What happened to the protospatharius Bardas almost exceeds belief. He happened to be the brother of John the patrician, who traced his lineage from the Macedonians; he was also very ^C closely associated with the Emperor Romanos, who was gentle and kind, and whom everyone knows to have been the son of Constantine, who, to sum up everything, was an excellent emperor. Now a disease fell upon the side of this Bardas, and he [the disease] for a long time

[this disease is what physicians call a carbuncle], which covered almost his entire side, and was perforated with five openings, and caused the sufferer unbearable pains. For the bitterness of the disease did not stop there, but it spread from the side to the breast, or rather, another most bitter growth appeared, which made him greatly swollen. The disease increased and was so strong that it seemed to the physicians to be beyond healing, and they abandoned all hope for his life.

Since the feast of the Saint was approaching, all the physicians, and those who are called Chartularies, and everyone else who was to go on the following day to the temple of the glorious martyr Mocius, as is their custom, to perform the usual evening prayers, left him, now despairing and void of all good hope, and went away. But in the morning he summoned one of the Chartularies, Michael by name, the doorkeeper, who narrated these things to me. At that time, Bardas, who was suffering from this disease, was in charge of the Xenodochium. When the doorkeeper came to him and saw him standing upright, dressed in clean clothes and healthy, he was filled with admiration. Thinking that he was deceiving him and was out of his mind, "Woe is me," he said, "what has happened to you?" But Bardas replied, "Why, instead of giving glory to God, as is fitting, do you weep and cry out, just as if you were mourning?" ^B But Michael, even more astonished by the sight which had happened beyond his expectation, questioned him diligently and burned to learn what had occurred. And he immediately began to speak in a clear and lofty voice: "For such is the nature of excessive exultation."

"After," he said, "you left me in such a state and went home, I, being beaten by the pains of the disease, and overcome by despondency because hope of life had been abandoned, and even more because I was not deemed worthy myself to go with the others to the tomb of the Saint and to celebrate his feast with them, passed the whole night without sleep. While lying thus, I saw an old man who had come out of the temple of my house—he also appeared to be a monk—who, standing in the middle of this room, looked at me and said, 'I say to you, arise.' And when I replied, 'How can you speak thus to me? For I cannot,' he added, once and twice and three times, saying exactly this. At last, he said, 'I say to you, arise ^C and go as quickly as possible to the tomb of St. Sampson.' Having said this, I immediately raised myself slightly from the bed, and I saw him returning once again into the temple from which he had seemed to me to have emerged, and finally he disappeared from my sight. And then, indeed, I rose up entirely, and I seemed to have been freed from every pain; and then, pressing the swelling of the breast with both hands, I felt a certain breath being released from behind my side." ^D

^A Then, greeting my wife cheerfully, I said, "It seems to me that I feel nothing wrong, but you, gently loosen the bindings placed upon the wound." She did so, not without great distress, by which she was affected; and, "Woe is me," she said, "what is this amanites that is fixed to the wound?" It was, in truth, putrefied flesh that had separated and had been pulled away along with the cloths. Having been healed in this way and having recovered beyond expectation, I could no longer restrain myself from obeying the command of my healer, and I betook myself to his tomb, to celebrate the feast with others. Having said this, he immediately did so, and went off to the Saint, full of joy and gladness; but to those who met him, the thing seemed incredible, and they even doubted their own eyes. ^B

XXI. Let there be joined to those foregoing the miracle of George as well: for it is not light, nor commonplace, nor in any way to be despised. He happened to be the servant of a certain monk and priest, Ephraim by name, and having been afflicted by a dropsical disease, he had been laid in the holy house of the Great Sampson; but then, annoyed at his long confinement, he left the master's holy dwelling and went away. His master, however, did not cease to advise him and to suggest that he return and remain in the house of the Saint; but when he could not persuade him (for he used to refrain from harsher words because of the severity of the disease), "If nothing else," he said, "at least enter into the oratory to reverence the very image of the Saint; then, when you have taken some oil and anointed yourself, lie down in your bed." And he did what he had been told. But when day had broken, he was urged by his master to act in the same way again; ^C he, however, said, "But I am recovered, and by the virtue of the Saint I have obtained complete health. For this night, the Saint appearing to me in my sleep touched my belly and said to me: 'Go, being well; for none of your ills troubles you any longer.'" These things were not enough to produce faith in his master; but he wanted to make a trial himself, and having diligently scrutinized his face, and his belly, and his feet, and the rest of his limbs and parts, when he saw not even a remnant or trace of the disease, he used glory and thanksgiving toward God and the Saint, having obtained a physician who was free and truthful, and seeing the servant in good health.

XXII. The disease of Irene was also similar, for she too was suffering from dropsy, and a very serious case at that; and for this reason her cure was more celebrated and more ^D miraculous. Irene was the wife of one of those who serve the holy house, in which she herself was also lying, having despaired of obtaining health from the physicians. The Saint appeared during the night, together with two others with whom he was accustomed to appear for the most part—and they say these are those divine ones who, without any

^A payment for their healing, namely Cosmas and Damian. The Saint first asked her what she was suffering. She seemed to point out the evil; the Saint then spoke to one of his companions and said, "It is necessary to perform surgery on her thigh." And he did so. The woman, as if she had felt some pain, was awakened from sleep, but she knew nothing of what she had undergone. When dawn came, her handmaid approached her and, seeing water spilled under the bed—thinking, as was likely, that it was urine—she reproached her that she had behaved so shamefully and improperly, that she had not gotten up and had not called any of the handmaids, but had soiled both her garments and the bedding. But she denied having done any such thing, saying, "By no means!" Then, after her tunic was lifted, the incision was revealed, and as the fluid was flowing out, the physician was made known, and she herself was shown to be healed, and she returned home with joy.

XXIII. And these things are sufficient for us to know the grace which was given to the great Sampson. For why, according to the tragedy, must one recount the innumerable? For such events as these never cease to occur, but they have the likeness of rivers; and therefore one miracle is sufficient for all, like a divinely flowing stream which proceeds from the tomb of the holy man and rises daily as from a fountain. But it does not proceed always; rather, a few days before the feast of the Wonderworker, a certain fluid ^B appears, which then gradually increases and remains after the feast, thus gushing until a few days have passed, and then it ceases. Yet I think it is held in greater honor and admiration in this way than if it flowed perpetually. For to keep the time of inflow, as I might call it, and the time of cessation so certain and never-failing, besides being more pleasing and more admirable, is also more venerable. For that which is perpetual perhaps brings with it satiety, and satiety induces contempt.

XXIV. This is the gift offered to you by us, greatest Father Sampson—I know not indeed if it be according to your mind, but certainly according to our own strength ^C, which may you receive kindly and placidly; you who are most benevolent and a good physician of our diseases, and rather of our souls than of our bodies, be a guide and guardian of our whole life, rendering Christ propitious to me. Whom you indeed have loved in an outstanding way, but I, alas, have provoked to wrath by a multitude of sins, more than can be told; to whom befits all glory, honor, and adoration, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen. ^D