meruelous virtue. _Me._ That litle body hathe smale
powre to worke myrakles. I saw saynt Christopher at
Parise, nat a carte lode, but as moche as a greate
hylle, yet he neuer dyd myrakles as farre as euer I
herd telle. _Ogy._ At our ladyes fette there is a
precyous stone, whos name as it is nother in Greke nor
Laten. The Frenchemã gaue it the name of a tode,
bycause it is so like, that no man (althoghe he be
conynge) can set it forthe more lyuely. But so moche
greater is || the myrakle, that the stone is litle, the
fourme of the tode dothe nat apere, but it shynythe as
it were enclosyd within that precyous stone. _Me._
Perauenture they ymagyne ye symylytude of a tode to
be there, euyn as we suppose whan we cutte ye fearne
stalke there to be an egle, and euyn as chyldren
(whiche they see nat indede) in ye clowdes, thynke they
see dragones spyttynge fyre, & hylles flammynge with
fyre, & armyd mê encownterynge. _Ogy._ No, I wold you
shuld know it, there is no lyuynge tode that more
euydêtly dothe expresse hymselffe than it dyd there
playnly apere. _Me._ Hetherto I haue sufferyd thy lyes,
but now get the another that wyll beleue the, thy tale
of a tode. _Ogy._ No maruayle Menedemus thogh you be so
disposyd, for all the world cannot make me to beleue
yt, not & all doctoures of dyuynyte wold swere || it
were trewe. But that I sawe it with myne eyes, ye with
thes same eyes, dyd I proue it. But in ye meanseson me
thynke you regard naturall phylosophye but litle. _Me._
why so, because I wyll nat beleue ye asses flye? _Ogy._
An do you nat se, how nature the worker of all thynges,