There was a certain father of a family, a powerful king, who had four daughters, of whom one was called Mercy, the second Truth, the third Justice, the fourth Peace; of whom it is said, “Mercy and Truth are met together; Justice and Peace have kissed each other.”  He had also a certain most wise son, to whom no one could be compared in wisdom.  He had, also, a certain servant, whom he had exalted and enriched with great honor:  for he had made him after his own likeness and similitude, and that without any preceding merit on the servant’s part.  But the Lord, as is the custom with such wise masters, wished prudently to explore, and to become acquainted with, the character and the faith of his servant, whether he were trustworthy towards himself or not; so he gave him an easy commandment, and said, “If you do what I tell you, I will exalt you to further honors; if not, you shall perish miserably.”

The servant heard the commandment, and without any delay went and broke it.  Why need I say more?  Why need I delay you by my words and by my tears?  This proud servant, stiff-necked, full of contumely, and puffed up with conceit, sought an excuse for his transgression, and retorted the whole fault on his Lord.  For when he said, “the woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she deceived me,” he threw all the fault on his Maker.  His Lord, more angry for such contumelious conduct than for the transgression of his command, called four most cruel executioners, and commanded one of them to cast him into prison, another to afflict him with grievous torments; the third to strangle him, and the fourth to behead him.  By and by, when occasion offers, I will give you the right name of these tormentors.

These torturers, then, studying how they might carry out their own cruelty, took the wretched man and began to afflict him with all manner of punishments.  But one of the daughters of the King, by name Mercy, when she had heard of this punishment of the servant, ran hastily to the prison, and looking in and seeing the man given over to the tormentors, could not help having compassion upon him, for it is the property of Mercy to have pity.  She tore her garments and struck her hands together, and let her hair fall loose about her neck, and crying and shrieking, ran to her father, and kneeling before his feet began to say with an earnest and sorrowful voice:  “My beloved father, am not I thy daughter Mercy? and art not thou called merciful?  If thou art merciful, have mercy upon thy servant; and if thou wilt not have mercy upon him, thou canst not be called merciful; and if thou art not merciful, thou canst not have me, Mercy, for thy daughter.”  While she was thus arguing with her father, her sister Truth came up, and demanded why it was that Mercy was weeping.  “Your sister Mercy,” replied the father, “wishes me to have pity upon that proud transgressor whose punishment I have appointed.”  Truth, when she heard this, was excessively angry, and looking