I n a fable written toward the beginning of the fourteenth-century Libro de buen amor (Book of Good Love), our narrator the Archpriest relates a tale concerning the constellations and planets under which men are born. 1 Part narrative and part cosmology, we learn here about the birth of a child, whose father, King Alcaraz, desires to know the significance of the heavenly bodies that will inf luence his son's destiny. Summoning five astrologers, he hears a different yet equally horrific prediction from each one: the child is to fall from rocks, be stoned to death, burned, hanged, and drowned. The king, taking these words as outright lies and a gross misreading of the signs present in the skies, has the astrologers imprisoned. Once grown, though, while out hunting the prince happens to suffer all five fates, practically simultaneously, in a bizarre turn of events: while crossing a bridge in a hailstorm, he is thrown by a lightning bolt and left hanging by his clothes in the river below. It is here Alcaraz realizes that the wise men had in fact foretold valid, albeit seemingly contradictory, truths; one's destiny, as predicted by the heavens, is, he comes to learn, ultimately unavoidable. The young prince's nativity horoscope, a popular means during the Middle Ages of predicting a person's character, course of life, and manner of death, serves as proof, the Archpriest states, that the movement of the constellations and planets is an everpresent inf luence during our life: