CHAPTER III.

After old Marten had let Bantam go, he himself went straight

to his son, whom he found engaged in his professional

pursuits. At the moment of his father's entry, young

Longtail was hearing a class of the young Rabbits, on one of

whom he was inflicting summary chastisement for great

neglect and carelessness in his arithmetic. The poor young

fellow was squeaking terribly, and his three brothers, with

tears in their eyes, were trying with all their might to

cast up their sums on their slates, which shook so in

their hands that they could scarce see the figures. Their

master left off the beating when he saw his father, and

consequently young Rabbit, for the first and perhaps only

time in his life, was very glad to see the old man. The

class was dismissed; and if you had seen these four

youngsters scamper off, shaking their white tails and

jumping half a yard high as they ran to the Warren,

you would have thought it was a good thing to have the

light-heartedness of children.

The Martens, father and son, retired up an oak-tree, at the

old man's request, to talk over their private affairs. When

the son heard of his father's plans, and how young Ferret

had been arrested, he was struck dumb with amazement. He had

never dreamed that his father would interfere in such a

matter; and if the truth must be told, he was already

engaged to Miss Pussy, the eldest daughter of old Mrs. Hare

of the Ferns.

However, he knew better than to contradict his father's

intentions too suddenly, for he felt assured that the old

man would cut him off with a shilling if he were to offend

him; so he pretended to acquiesce in all that was said,

and promised compliance in every particular.

But as soon as his father had bidden him farewell, and

had got out of sight, young Longtail ran as fast as his

legs would carry him to the cavern where the doctor was

imprisoned, paid the amount of the debt for which he had

been arrested, and took young Ferret home with him to

consult about their future conduct.

[Illustration: LONGTAIL TEACHING THE YOUNG RABBITS

ARITHMETIC.]

It would have amused you, could you have heard all the plans

discussed by these young lovers for their joint benefit; how

the one talked of his darling Miss Weasel, and the other of

his dear Miss Pussy; how they agreed that in matters of love

every thing was allowable; and how they swore eternal

friendship to each other throughout their lives.

Two days afterwards it was known all over Holm-wood that the

fair Miss Weasel had eloped with Longtail Marten. Mrs. Goose

and the four Miss Goslings were full of the information for

every one they met. It was the finest piece of scandal they

had known for years. "Only think," said they, "after all her

engagement to young Doctor Ferret, to go and take up with

the schoolmaster; and all, forsooth, because Old Marten is

rich!"

But scarce had the first news of Miss Weasel's extraordinary

behaviour run through the farm-yard, than old Bantam was

seen hurrying in, very red in the face from over exertion,

and was heard to declare, that he never knew the like of it,

but as sure as he was a living cock, he had met young Ferret

the physician running away with Miss Pussy, the daughter of

old Mrs. Hare of the Ferns. Mrs. Goose turned up the whites

of her eyes and almost fainted. Dame Partlett ran with

all speed, that she might be the first to cackle the

intelligence to Mr. Drake; and the whole island was soon

in a ferment at this wonderful piece of gossip.

Of course, old Mr. Marten soon heard of all this; and so

pleased was he that he immediately altered his will,

doubling the amount he had previously given to his dear boy

Longtail, and getting so extremely excited at the "Huntsman

and Hounds" on the same afternoon, that, sad to relate, he

was untimely carried off by an effusion of blood.

And what think you became of the lovers? Why, the very day

all this commotion happened at Holm-wood the two pair met at

their aunt's, old Mrs. Stoat's, of Four-mile Cross, as they

had agreed. There the young fellows, overjoyed at the

success of their scheme, changed their fair partners, and,

to complete their happiness, immediately set out for a tour

on the neighbouring Continent.

There, on fine summer evenings, you might often have seen

the doctor and his beloved quietly strolling by wood-sides

and along the banks of the green meadows, listening intently

to the warbling of the tender birds they loved so much;

while young Longtail Marten and his bride, fonder of more

boisterous excitement, devoted themselves to the pleasures

of the chase, scouring rapidly over hill and dale whenever

they heard the huntsman's loud horn, or the hounds' deeper

notes; and never so happy as when, after the sports of the

day were done, they finished up with a ball, and danced

joyously till the next day's dawn.

[Illustration: JACK HARE AND GRACE MARTEN LEADING OFF

THE BALL.]

As for the good folks at Holm-wood, as soon as Mrs. Hare

discovered that her daughter had run away, she sent for her

eldest son, Jack Hare, who lived in a farm close by, and

asked him to pursue his sister and bring her back; but Jack

said she was quite old enough to know her own mind, and that

he would have nothing to do with it. When, however, the old

lady learned that her daughter was married to the rich young

Marten, and not to the poor physician, then she was greatly

rejoiced, though she confessed she could not make out why

her dear child Pussy should run away with the doctor and

then marry the schoolmaster; but she supposed it was all

right.

As for Jack, when he heard that old Mr. Marten had died,

leaving great riches behind him, he, to follow the fashion,

fell in love with Grace, the only daughter of the deceased,

and only sister of Longtail. Miss Grace listened favourably

to Jack's suit--for she was very lonely now her father was

dead, and her brother away; and as there was no papa to

consult in their case, they got married quietly at home,

and asked all their neighbours to a ball, when Jack Hare and

Grace Marten (that was) led off the polka in grand style,

greatly to the admiration of all the young folks in the

island.

THE WONDERFUL HARE-HUNT.

Merrily sounded the cock's shrill horn, and brightly shone

the early morning sun, when a party of young sportsmen set

out to the field, armed with their guns and game-bags. Four

beaters from the neighbouring village attended them, each

with a long stick to rout the hares and rabbits from their

hiding-places. Gaily went they forth, these merry sportsmen

and their helpers; light was their step across the green

meadows and up the sandy hill-sides; loud was their laughter

when one of them, trying to jump through a broken hedge,

fell into the neighbouring ditch; great was their mirth when

another's gun went off and lamed a squirrel in an adjoining

tree; and joyous was the shout with which they scared a

frightened rabbit from its morning meal.

At last the sportsmen came to the side of a wood, and one of

the beaters reported that just round the corner of the

palings he could see nearly a dozen hares feeding together.

A council of war was summoned; each sportsman looked to the

priming of his gun, and trod with a more cautious step; each

beater bent his head nearly to the ground, and crept along

the grass. A plan of attack was formed; the beaters stole

within the wood to stop the hares that way, while the

sportsmen suddenly appearing on the other side, caused the

poor hares, surrounded as they were, to run into the very

jaws of destruction. They that leaped towards the wood

received blows on their heads from the beaters; they that

ran down the hill met Ponto the dog, who pounced on them

open-mouthed; and they that ran upwards were soon sent

downwards again, toppling head over heels, killed by the

fire of the enemy. Not a hare escaped. The gun-bearers took

deadly aim, and Ponto and the beaters prevented their

flight.

While the young sportsmen and their helpers were yet picking

up the hares and rejoicing at their good fortune, the sky

became quickly overcast, black clouds gathered, and a

hurricane of wind swept through the wood, tearing off large

branches of the trees. The sportsmen stood amazed at the

suddenness of the storm, but presently their amazement was

changed to fear; for, riding in a bright chariot drawn by

six snow-white swans,--blown swiftly by the wind,--there

appeared a lady of fairy-like beauty. At her command the

beautiful birds stayed their flight, and the chariot rested

on the green turf close by the sportsmen.

"Young men," said the lady in a melodious but mournful

voice, as she pointed to the dead hares, "you have murdered

these poor innocents for your sport: know, I am the fairy

called KINDNESS, and these hares were all of them my

friends. In punishment for your cruelty, you sportsmen shall

be changed into Martens, and you attendants into Weasels.

In such shapes you may pursue your cruel sports; you are not

worthy of the forms of men." And, waving her wand, the swans

bore her instantly out of sight.

They who live in this country say that every old

Michaelmas-day, five martens and four weasels, with long

sticks, may still be seen hunting hares near this wood;

sometimes a dog's bark is heard and a shrill whistle, but

if any of mankind appear in their sight, the creatures run

quickly away, and hide themselves in the wood.

[Illustration: THE DUEL OF THE DORMICE.]

THE DUEL OF THE DORMICE.

Out in the fields, in the hollow of an old willow-tree, two

Dormice slept the whole winter long. They neither ate nor

drank, nor did they so much as raise their heads from their

pillows during all this dreary time. A ray of sunshine, as

the sun passed right over their tree, would perhaps make one

of them stretch out his paws; but as soon as the gleam had

passed and left them, he would curl himself up all the

closer in his nest, and go faster asleep than ever.

But the sun came one bright spring morning, and shone on the

Dormice so warmly, that they turned round in their bed,

stretched their paws, rubbed their eyes, yawned, and at last

woke quite up.

"It is summer-time at last," said the elder Dormouse, as he

took a nut from his store of provisions and cracked it, "and

we may now leave our winter's bed." "I don't believe it,"

replied the younger. "The wind blows cold; I shall go to

sleep again."

"Ah, that's like your laziness," rejoined the elder; "sleep

on; I'm off to the wood." And so saying, he scrambled up the

tree, then down the outside of the trunk, and so into the

wide meadows.

The younger Dormouse went to sleep. He slept for an hour,

then he woke again, and finding his companion gone, he

turned to the food and ate a hearty meal; then he slept

again, but the sun had made his bed too hot: so he presently

woke and made another attack on the provisions; and this he

did the whole day long, until, at evening time, all the corn

and nuts which the two Dormice had so diligently collected

in the autumn, were gone. Soon the moon rose, and the young

one curled himself for sleep.

In the meantime the elder had wandered about the fields;

but the earth was wet, and no corn or fruit was ripe, so at

night he returned to his nest wet and hungry. He ran

straight to the store-room for food; but what was his

surprise when he found nothing left but a few barley-corns!

His cries woke his companion, from whom he demanded the

provisions; the younger one muttered that he knew nothing

about them, and pretended to sleep; but the unfortunate

adventurer, driven to desperation by hunger, flew into a

rage and struck the other with his claws: a fight ensued,

and the whole neighbourhood was alarmed at the outcry.

Two Moles who were passing by the foot of the tree, hearing

this dreadful noise, called out to the combatants to stop.

The Dormice fearing it might be some of the Weasels who

spoke, were silent instantly, and then the Moles bade them

come out.

So the Dormice came down to the Moles; and when the Moles

found that the silly creatures were bent on their quarrel,

they insisted that the combat should be with swords.

Moreover, they offered to play the part of seconds, and to

dig a grave for the vanquished.

To all this the Dormice consented; the Moles found an old

trap, and from the iron parts they fashioned rude swords.

These they measured, and gave to the combatants; and then,

with their long spades in their hands, they awaited the

issue of the affray. It was fierce and desperate. The hungry

one fought with fury, but he who had had a good feast was

the stronger and the calmer: at last the younger one drove

his sword right through the body of the elder; but the elder

at the same moment clove his opponent's head asunder, and so

they fell dead together. And the Moles dug a deep hole, and

buried both the Dormice in the same grave.

[Illustration: THE KITTENS AT TEA--MISS PAULINA SINGING.]

THE SIX KITTENS.

Once upon a time a cat had six kittens, whom she brought up

in the most genteel manner. No one could say that their

education was in any wise neglected, for besides being

taught the ordinary duties of life by their mother, such as

mouse-hunting, fish-stealing, and bird-catching, they

received instructions in the arts of singing, and playing

the harp and the piano, and were taught to waltz and dance

the polka with every imaginable grace. Now when the kittens

grew to be of age, it was their custom of an afternoon to

spend some hours at tea and intellectual talk. The youngest

always performed the duties of servant, while one of the

elder ones would entertain the rest by playing airs from the

latest opera, or singing a love-song, the music of which she

had herself composed.

It is true some animals who dwelt close by complained of

this music, and called it by all kinds of ill names; but

that is ever the jealous way of the world: and the kittens

frequently performed serenades in their garden by moonlight,

when all who passed by would stay to listen to their melody.

But to our tale. It happened that, one fine summer's

afternoon, when the kittens were all enjoying themselves at

tea; when Paulina, the eldest, was warbling some of her most

delightful songs, and Violet, the second, was entertaining

the rest, in an under tone, with a little bit of scandal

about a neighbouring Tabby, whom she had seen coming home in

a sad condition about five o'clock in the morning, when she,

Miss Violet, was taking her early walk;--just at this moment

there sounded a tap at the door, and presently in came

Diana, the youngest sister, bearing in her hand more cakes

for tea, and in the plate with them a note addressed to Miss

Rose,--the next to Violet in age, and by most people

considered the beauty of the family. Violet took the letter

eagerly from Diana; but when she saw the address, she

remarked that it was evidently a gentleman's handwriting,

and tossing her head somewhat disdainfully, she handed it to

Miss Rose, who blushed very much, and retired with it to the

sofa. Rose opened the note with trembling paws, and a sweet

smile played on her features as she read its contents; then,

carefully folding it up, she observed to her sisters that it

was merely an invitation for a walk, and springing on to the

back of the sofa, she jumped through the open window, and

retired to her own summer-house up a fine sycamore-tree in

the garden.

This incident, as may be imagined, caused a great sensation

among the sisters; and all wondered very much who could have

been the writer of the note that had so evidently pleased

Miss Rose. One hoped it was not from that scapegrace Tom who

lived at the Farm-yard; another feared it might come from

young Marten Sable of the Forest; and Violet demanded of her

youngest sister what sort of person it was who had brought

the note. Diana did not know, but believed it was a relation

of old Mr. Weasel, who belonged to the same farm that Tom

did. This set them all guessing again, for it was well known

that Tom and Old Weasel did not speak to each other: and in

the end they were all just as wise as in the beginning.

[Illustration: ENSIGN SQUEAKER AND MISS ROSE.]

About seven o'clock the same evening an attentive observer

might have noticed Miss Rose emerging from her door very

quietly, and making the best of her way to the green fields

that bordered the sea-coast close by. An ill-natured person

would have said that Miss Rose had taken especial pains with

her toilet, and that she carried her parasol with a

lack-a-daisical air; but Rose herself, at her last peep in

the glass, had thought that she looked very nicely indeed;

and so it would appear thought Ensign Squeaker (of the

Household Pigade), who, with his regimental sword by his

side, and his pocket telescope in his hand, sauntered along

the pathway, _merely_ to enjoy the beauty of the evening,

and inhale the fresh breezes from the ocean. How it happened

that Young Squeaker and Miss Rose met at the corner of the

cliff, just as the village clock struck the half-past seven,

no one knows; certain only it is that they did meet; and

that after the interchange of the usual compliments, Miss

Rose accepted Mr. Squeaker's proffered arm, and that the

pair wandered about by the sea-shore until the moon rose;

and Miss Rose, in great trepidation at finding it so late,

desired her companion to escort her home. Nor is it known

what Mr. Squeaker said when he bade a fond adieu to his dear

Rose, nor for how long after Rose sat in her arbour in the

garden and watched the bats flitting across the moon.

It was noticed by the sisters that Rose was very quiet all

the next day, and that at times a tear stood in the corner

of her eye, which she would wipe away, sighing. Many were

the sly allusions to the note of the previous afternoon and

the long evening walk, and no one tormented poor Rose with

her insinuations more than Paulina, who was for some cause

in a most unusual flow of spirits. After tea, Rose took down

her treasured volume, "Pussicat's Poems," and retiring to

the garden, read the tenderest parts. Violet, overcome with

the fatigue of a recent mouse-hunt, went to sleep on the

sofa; the younger ones busied themselves with their crochet

and net-work; and Miss Paulina, saying she was going to call

on a neighbour, with her best lace-bordered handkerchief in

her hand, sallied forth and took her way towards the forest.

Now it so happened that young Marten Sable was leaning

against a tree, tapping his heel with his cane, and

meditating very profoundly at the entrance of the very walk

towards which Paulina bent her steps. He started at her

approach, and with a sad but eager countenance ran to meet

her.

"What has happened, Marten," cried Paulina, "that you look

so miserable? tell me directly, I implore you;" and placing

her hand on his arm, she looked piteously in his face.

Marten hung his head and seemed overcome with grief; at last

he said in a low husky voice, "We must part, Paulina; but it

will be only for a time; my father has ordered me to set out

for Russia to visit his forests there, and, my darling

Paulina,--how can I bear the thought!--it will be six months

before I see you again." Paulina covered her face with her

paws and wept bitterly; at last rousing herself, she said,

"Let us not, Marten, spend our last evening thus; come, six

months will soon pass, and then--" Here Paulina's voice

dropped, and Marten threw his arms round her waist and

kissed away the tears.

[Illustration: YOUNG MARTEN BIDDING FAREWELL TO

MISS PAULINA.]

We know of every word that Marten said to Paulina, and of

Paulina's every reply, for we had it all from a young

hedgehog whose curiosity led her to listen to their talk;

but we think that the hedgehog did wrong to listen, and so,

perhaps, did we to listen to the hedgehog, and so we will

not tell their secrets; but this, we may mention, that they

wandered up and down the pathways of the forest, now and

then pouncing on a stray field-mouse or a poor sleeping

bird, until the moon shone brightly through the trees. And

we know that they parted at length by the sign-post at the

edge of the wood, when Paulina shed many tears, and Marten,

laying his paw upon his heart, vowed ever to be constant to

her, and in all his travels and all his adventures to

remember his sweet Pussy. To have seen how the poor kitten

wept when she went to bed that night, would have grieved a

hard-hearted terrier; and to have seen how melancholy she

looked as she wandered about for three weeks afterwards,

would have drawn pity from a ferocious bull-dog.

One morning, about seven months after the events we have

narrated, there was a great commotion in the house where the

kittens dwelt; the bells rang, the flags were hoisted, and

little cannon fired. In the papers of the next morning we

read that Ensign Squeaker of the Household Pigade carried

off the beautiful Miss Rose, and young Marten Sable of the

Forest his fair prize Miss Paulina, both on the same day.

May they all enjoy much felicity, and may the brides catch

plenty of mice!

[Illustration: THE FROGS WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO.]

THE

FROGS WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO.

Two frogs, who were cousins, were hopping about together one

warm summer's evening by the side of a rivulet, when they

began talking--just as the men will talk--about a young

lady-frog who lived in a neighbouring marsh. One extolled

the brightness of her eyes, the other praised the beauty

of her complexion, and somehow the two frogs found out

that they had both fallen in love with the same young

lady-froggy. When they had made this discovery they parted

rather abruptly, and muttered something, the meaning of

which was not very clear.

"Bless me," said Mr. Croaker, the elder and richer of the

two, "I must not let that young scapegrace Jumper get the

better of me. A pretty joke indeed that _he_ should think of

the beautiful Miss Leapfrog, he who is not worth a rap, and

is as ugly as a toad."

"Who would have thought," said Jumper to himself, "that that

old curmudgeon Croaker was going to make love to that dear

young Miss Leapfrog? We will soon see whom she likes best."

The next morning Croaker dressed himself with unusual

neatness; and that he might appear to better advantage, he

went to a barber-frog who lived in a neighbouring arbour,

and asked to be shaved and to have his wig dressed. The

barber had just spread his white cloth, had lathered his

customer's chin, and was flourishing a razor in his face,

when what should catch Croaker's eye through the open

doorway but the figure of his cousin Jumper, smartly

dressed, with his cane under his arm, and a parasol over

his head, to keep the sun off his delicate complexion,

walking hastily along the path that led to Miss Leapfrog's

residence.

To jump from his chair was Croaker's first impulse, and, sad

to say, it was his last; for he fell with his throat upon

the edge of the barber's razor, and in two minutes breathed

his last.

Deep was Miss Leapfrog's grief, and great was Mr. Jumper's

joy, when the news of this sad misfortune reached their

ears. In the first burst of her anguish the young lady

accused the barber of having murdered her dear Croaker; but

Mr. Jumper hopped about for joy, and vowed that the barber

was the best frog alive. And well he might be joyful, for as

Croaker had died without a will, Jumper inherited all his

estates; and when, after a week's mourning, the young lady's

grief had somewhat subsided, the happy Mr. Jumper carried

off the beautiful Miss Leapfrog.

But alas, how uncertain is happiness either to man or

frogs! Two days afterwards, as Jumper was crossing a brook,

a lily-white duck, who had been concealed by the rushes,

flew at him with open beak and gobbled him up.

And the poor bride was left to mourn in silent solitude.

[Illustration: REYNARD AT HOME AT MALEPARDUS.]

THE STORY

OF

REYNARD THE FOX.

About the feast of Whitsuntide, when the woods were in their

lustyhood and gallantry, when every tree was clothed in the

green and white livery of glorious leaves and sweet-smelling

blossoms, when the earth was covered with her fairest mantle

of flowers, and the sweet birds entertained the groves with

the delight of their harmonious songs, the LION, the Royal

King of Beasts, made solemn proclamation that all quadrupeds

whatsoever should attend his court, and celebrate this great

festival.

Now when the king had assembled all his subjects together,

there was no one absent save Reynard the Fox, against whom

many grievous accusations were laid. First came Isegrim the

Wolf, with all his family and kindred, who, standing before

the King complained loudly how that Reynard had ill-treated

his wife and children. Then there came a little hound named

Curtise, who accused the Fox of having stolen his pudding in

the extreme cold winter-time, when he was nigh dying of

starvation. But scarcely had the hound finished his tale,

when, with a fiery countenance, in sprang Tibert the Cat,

and accused Curtise of having stolen this pudding from

himself, and declared that Reynard had righteously taken it

away.

Then rose the Panther: "Do you imagine, Tibert," quoth he,

"that Reynard ought not to be complained of? The whole world

knows that he is a murderer, a vagabond, and a thief."

Then quoth Grimbard the Badger, Reynard's nephew: "It is a

common proverb, _Malice never spake well_: what can you say

against my kinsman the fox? All these complaints seem to me

to be either absurd or false. Mine uncle is a gentleman,

and cannot endure falsehood. I affirm that he liveth as a

recluse; he chastiseth his body, and weareth a shirt of

hair-cloth. It is above a year since he hath eaten any

flesh; he hath forsaken his castle Malepardus, and abandoned

all his wealth; he lives only upon alms and good men's

charities, doing infinite penance for his sins; so that he

has become pale and lean with praying and fasting."

While Grimbard was still speaking, there came down the hill

Chanticleer the Cock, and with him two hens, who brought

with them on a bier their dead sister Copple, who had just

been murdered by Reynard. Chanticleer smote piteously his

feathers, and, kneeling before the King, spake in this

manner:

[Illustration: REYNARD IN THE LIKENESS OF A HERMIT.]

"Most merciful and my great Lord the King, vouchsafe, I

beseech you, to hear our complaint, and redress the injuries

which Reynard the Fox has done to me and my children. Not

longer ago than last April, when the weather was fair, and I

was in the height of my pride and glory, because of my eight

valiant sons and seven fair daughters, who were strong and

fat, and who walked in safety in a yard well-fenced round,

wherein also were several large dogs for their protection,

Reynard, that false and dissembling traitor, came to me in

the likeness of a hermit, and brought me a letter to read,

sealed with your Majesty's seal, in which I found written,

that your Highness had made peace throughout all your realm,

and that no manner of beast or fowl should do injury one to

another; affirming unto me, that, for his own part, he was

become a monk, vowing to perform a daily penance for his

sins; shewing unto me his beads, his books, and the hair

shirt next to his skin; saying, in humble wise, unto me,

'Sir Chanticleer, never henceforth be afraid of me, for I

have vowed never more to eat flesh. I am now waxed old, and

would only remember my soul; therefore I take my leave, for

I have yet my noon and my evensong to say.' Which spake, he

departed, saying his Credo as he went, and laid him down

under a hawthorn. At this I was exceeding glad, that I took

no heed, but went and clucked my children together, and

walked without the wall, which I shall ever rue; for false

Reynard, lying under a bush, came creeping betwixt us and

the gate, and suddenly surprised one of my children, which

he trussed up and bore away, to my great sorrow; for, having

tasted the sweetness of our flesh, neither hunter nor hound

can protect or keep him from us. Night and day he waits upon

us, with that greediness, that of fifteen of my children, he

hath left me but four unslaughtered; and yesterday, Copple,

my daughter, which here lieth dead on this bier, was, after

her murder, rescued from him. This is my complaint, and this

I leave to your Highness's mercy to take pity on me, and the

loss of my fair children."

Then spake the King: "Sir Grimbard, hear you this of your

uncle the recluse? he hath fasted and prayed well: believe

me, if I live a year, he shall dearly abide it. As for you,

Chanticleer, your complaint is heard, and shall be cured; to

your daughter that is dead we will give the right of burial,

and with solemn dirges bring her to the earth, with

worship."

After this the King sent for his lords and wisest

counsellors, to consult how this foul murder of Reynard's

might be punished. And in the end, it was concluded that

Reynard should be sent for, and without all excuse, he

should be commanded to appear before the King, to answer

whatever trespasses should be objected against him; and that

this message should be delivered by Bruin the Bear.

To all this the King gave consent, and calling the bear

before him, he said, "Sir Bruin, it is our pleasure that you

deliver this message; yet in the delivery thereof have great

regard to yourself; for Reynard is full of policy, and

knoweth how to dissemble, flatter, and betray; he hath a

world of snares to entangle you withal, and without great

exercise of judgment, will make a scorn and mock of the best

wisdom breathing."

"My Lord," answered Sir Bruin, "let me alone with Reynard;

I am not such a truant in discretion to become a mock to his

knavery;" and thus, full of jollity, the bear departed.

The next morning Bruin set out in quest of the fox;

and after passing through a dark forest and over a high

mountain, he came to Malepardus, Reynard's chiefest and most

ancient castle. Reynard was at home, and pretended to be ill

with eating too much honey. When the bear heard this, he was

extremely desirous of knowing where such excellent food

could be obtained; and Reynard promised to take him to a

garden where he should find more honey-combs than ten bears

could eat at a meal. But the treacherous rascal took him to

a carpenter's yard, where lay the trunk of a huge oak-tree,

half-riven asunder, with two great wedges in it, so that the

cleft stood a great way open. "Behold now, dear uncle," said

the fox, "within this tree is so much honey that it is

unmeasurable." The bear, in great haste, thrust his nose and

fore-paws into the tree; and immediately Reynard pulled out

the two great wedges, and caught Bruin in so sharp a trap,

that the poor beast howled with pain. This noise quickly

brought out the carpenter, who, perceiving how matters

stood, alarmed the whole village, who came and belaboured

the bear's sides with sticks and hoes and pitchforks, until,

mad with rage, he tore his bleeding face and paws from the

tree, and rushed blindly into a river that ran close by,

knocking into the water with him many of the villagers, and

among them, Dame Julock, the parson's wife, for whose sake

every one bestirred himself; and so poor Bruin got safe

away. After some delay, the bear returned to the court,

where, in dismal accents, he recounted the sad trick that

Reynard had played him.

Then said the King, "Now, by my crown, I will take such

revenge as shall make that traitor tremble;" and sending for

his counsellors, they decided that Reynard should be again

summoned to court, and that Tibert the Cat should be the

bearer of the message. "It is your wisdom, Sir Tibert, I

employ," said the great King, "and not your strength: many

prevail with art, when violence returns with lost labour."

So Tibert made ready, and set out with the King's letter to

Malepardus, where he found the fox standing before his

castle-gates; to whom Tibert said, "Health to my fair cousin

Reynard; the King, by me, summons you to the court, in which

if you fail, there is nothing more assured unto you than a

cruel and a sudden death."

The fox answered, "Welcome, dear cousin Tibert; I obey your

command, and wish my Lord the King infinite days of

happiness; only let me entreat you to rest with me to-night,

and take such cheer as my simple house affordeth, and

to-morrow, as early as you will, we will go towards the

court, for I have no kinsman I trust so dearly as yourself."

Tibert replied, "You speak like a noble gentleman; and

me-thinks it is best now to go forward, for the moon shines

as bright as day."

"Nay, dear cousin," said the fox, "let us take the day

before us, so may we encounter with our friends; the night

is full of danger."

"Well," said the cat, "if it be your pleasure, I am content;

what shall we eat?"

Reynard said, "Truly my store is small; the best I have is a

honey-comb, pleasant and sweet; what think you of it?"

To which Tibert replieth, "It is meat I little respect, and

seldom eat; I had rather have one mouse than all the honey

in Europe."

"A mouse!" said Reynard; "why, my dear cousin, here dwelleth

a priest hard by, who hath a barn by his house so full of

mice, that I think half the wagons in the parish are not

able to bear them."

"Oh, dear Reynard," quoth the cat, "do but lead me thither,

and make me your servant for ever."

"Why," said the fox, "love you mice so exceedingly?"

"Beyond expression," quoth the cat.

[Illustration: SIR TIBERT DELIVERING THE KING'S MESSAGE.]

Then away they went with all speed to the priest's barn,

which was well walled about with a mud wall, where, but the

night before, the fox had broken in and stolen an exceeding

fat hen, at which the priest was so angry, that he had set a

snare before the hole to catch him at his next coming, which

the false fox knew of; and therefore said to the cat, "Sir

Tibert, creep in at this hole, and believe it, you shall not

tarry a minute's space but you shall have more mice than you

are able to devour; hark, you may hear how they peep. When

you have eaten your fill, come again, and I will stay and

await for you here at this hole, that to-morrow we may go

together to the court; but, good cousin, stay not too long,

for I know my wife will hourly expect us."

Then Tibert sprang quickly in at the hole, but was presently

caught fast by the neck in the snare, which as soon as the

cat felt, he quickly leaped back again; and the snare

running close together, he was half-strangled, so that he

began to struggle and cry out and exclaim most piteously.

Then the priest, hearing the outcry, alarmed all his

servants, crying out, "The Fox is taken!" and away they all

ran to where poor Tibert was caught in the snare, and,

without finding out their mistake, they beat him most

unmercifully, and cruelly wounded one of his eyes. The cat,

mad with pain, suddenly gnawed the cord, and seizing the

priest by the legs, bit him and tore him in such a way that

he fell down in a swoon, and then, as every one ran to help

his master, Tibert leaped out of the hole, and limped as

fast as his wounded legs would carry him to the court, where

the King was infinitely angry at the treatment he had

received.

Then Grimbard the Badger, Reynard's nephew, fearing it

was likely to go hard with his uncle, offered to go to

Malepardus and take the King's message to his most subtle

kinsman; to which his Majesty graciously consented. So

Grimbard set forth; and when he came to Malepardus, he found

Reynard with Dame Ermelin his wife sporting with their

children. When Grimbard had delivered the King's letter,

Reynard found that it would be better for him to shew

himself at court at once; so bidding an affectionate

farewell to his dear wife and children, he immediately set

out with the badger to go with him before the King. On his

way, Reynard, remembering the heavy crimes he had committed,

and fearing that his end was at hand, desired of the holy

Grimbard, who had always led a hermit's life, that he would

hear him confess, and set him a penance for his sins.

Grimbard bade him proceed. And the fox confessed how

shamefully he had ill-used the bear, and the cat, and the

wolf, and Chanticleer's children, and many other ill-doings

during his life; and when he had finished, he knelt before

Grimbard, and said, "Thus have I told you my wickedness; now

order my penance, as shall seem fit in your discretion."

Grimbard was both learned and wise; and therefore brake a

rod from a tree, and said, "Uncle, you shall three times

strike your body with this rod, and then lay it down upon

the ground, and spring three times over it without bowing

your legs or stumbling; then shall you take it up and kiss

it gently, in sign of meekness and obedience to your

penance; which done, you are absolved of your sins committed

up to this day, for I pronounce unto you clear remission."

At this the fox was exceeding glad; and immediately he

performed the penance to Grimbard's satisfaction. But as

they went journeying on, it happened that they passed by the

poultry-yard of a convent; and as one young cock strayed far

from the rest, Reynard leaped at him, and caught him by the

feathers, but the cock escaped.

"Villain that you are," said Grimbard, "will you, for a

silly pullet, fall again into your sins?"

To which Reynard answered, "Pardon me, dear nephew, I had

forgotten myself; but I will ask forgiveness, and mine eye

shall no more wander."

However, Grimbard noted that he turned many times to look at

the poultry. But soon afterwards they arrived at the court.

As soon as it was bruited in the court that Reynard the Fox

and Grimbard his kinsman were arrived there, every one, from

the highest to the lowest, prepared himself to complain

of the fox; at which Reynard's heart quaked, but his

countenance kept the old look, and he went as proudly as

ever he was wont with his nephew through the high street,

and came as gallantly into the court as if he had been the

King's son, and as clear from trespass as the most innocent

whosoever; and when he came before the chair of state in

which the King sat, he said, "Heaven give your Majesty glory

and renown above all the princes of the earth."

But the King cut him short at these words, and said: "Peace,

traitorous Reynard; think you I can be caught with the music

of your words? no, it hath too oft deceived me; the peace

which I commanded and swore unto, that have you broken."

Then Bellin the Ram, and Oleway his wife, and Bruin the

Bear, and Tibert the Cat, and Isegrim the Wolf, and Kyward

the Hare, and Bruel the Goose, and Baldwin the Ass, and

Bortle the Bull, and Hamel the Ox, and Chanticleer the Cock,

and Partlett the Hen, and many others, came forward; and all

these with one entire noise cried out against the fox, and

so moved the King with their complaints, that the fox was

taken and arrested.

Upon this arrest, a parliament was called; and

notwithstanding that he answered every objection severally,

and with great art, Reynard was condemned, and judgment

was given that he should be hanged till his body was dead;

at which sentence the fox cast down his head, for all

his jollity was lost, and no flattery nor no words now

prevailed.

Then Isegrim on the one side and Bruin on the other led the

poor fox to the gallows, Tibert running before with the

halter. And when they were come to the place of execution,

the King and the Queen, and all the rest of the nobility,

took their places to see the fox die.

When all things were prepared, the fox said: "Now my heart

is heavy, for death stands in all his horror before me,

and I cannot escape. My dread Lord the King, and you my

sovereign Lady the Queen, and you my lords that stand to

behold me die, I beseech you grant me this charitable boon,

that I may unlock my heart before you, and clear my soul of

her burdens, so that hereafter no man may be blamed for me;

which done, my death will be easy."

Every creature now took compassion on the fox, and said his

request was small, beseeching the King to grant it, which

was done; and then the fox thus spake: "Help me, Heaven,

for I see no man here whom I have not offended; yet was this

evil no natural inclination in me, for in my youth I was

accounted as virtuous as any breathing. This know, I have

played with the lambs all the day long, and taken delight in

their pretty bleating; yet at last in my play I bit one, and

the taste of its blood was so sweet unto me, that I approved

the flesh, and both were so good, that since I could never

forbear it. This liquorish humour drew me into the woods

amongst the goats, where hearing the bleating of the little

kids, I slew one of them, and afterwards two more, which

slaughter made me so hardy, that then I fell to murder hens,

geese, and other poultry. And thus my crimes increased by

custom, and fury so possessed me, that all was fish which

came to my net. After this, in the winter season, I met with

Isegrim, where, as he lay hid under a hollow tree, he

unfolded unto me how he was my uncle, and laid the pedigree

down so plain, that from that day forth we became fellows

and companions; which knot of friendship I may ever curse,

for then began the flood of our thefts and slaughters. He

stole the great things, I the small; he murdered nobles,

I the mean subjects; and in all our actions his share was

still ever the greatest: when he got a ram or a calf, his

fury would hardly afford me the horns to pick on; nay, when

he had an ox or a cow, after himself, his wife, and his

seven children were served, nothing remained to me but the

bare bones to pick. This I speak not in that I wanted (for

it is well known I have more plate, jewels, and coin than

twenty carts are able to carry), but only to shew his

ingratitude."

When the King heard him speak of this infinite treasure and

riches, his heart grew inflamed with a desire thereof; and

he said, "Reynard, where is that treasure you speak of?"

The fox answered: "My Lord, I shall willingly tell you, for

it is true the wealth was stolen; and had it not been stolen

in that manner which it was, it had cost your highness your

life (which Heaven, I beseech, keep ever in protection)."

When the Queen heard that dangerous speech, she started, and

said: "What dangers are these you speak of, Reynard? I do

command you, upon your soul's health, to unfold these

doubtful speeches, and to keep nothing concealed which

concerns the life of my dread Lord."

Then the fox in these words unfolded to the King and Queen

this most foul treason: "Know, then, my dread sovereign Lord

the King, that my father, by a strange accident, digging in

the ground, found out King Ermerick's great treasure,--a

mass of jewels infinite and innumerable; of which being

possessed, he grew so proud and haughty, that he held in

scorn all the beasts of the wilderness, which before had

been his kinsmen and companions. At last he caused Tibert

the Cat to go into the vast forest of Arden to Bruin the

Bear, and to tender to him his homage and fealty; and to say

that if it would please him to be king, he should come into

Flanders, where he would shew him means how to set the crown

upon his head. Bruin was glad of this embassage (for he was

exceeding ambitious, and had long thirsted for sovereignty),

and thereupon came into Flanders, where my father received

him nobly. Then presently he sent for the wise Grimbard, my

nephew, and for Isegrim the Wolf, and for Tibert the Cat;

then these five coming between Gaunt and the village called

Elfe, they held a solemn council for the space of a whole

night, in which, by the assistance of the evil one, and the

strong confidence of my father's riches, it was there

concluded that your Majesty should be forthwith murdered;

which to effect, they took a solemn oath in this manner: the

bear, my father, the badger, and the cat, laying their hands

on Isegrim's crown, swore, first to make Bruin their king,

and to place him in the chair of estate at Acon, and to set

the imperial diadem on his head; and if by any of your

Majesty's blood and alliance they should be gainsaid, that

then my father with his treasure should hire those which

should utterly chase and root them out of the forest. Now

after this determination held and finished, it happened that

my nephew Grimbard being on a time high flown with wine,

he discovered this dread plot to Dame Slopecade his wife,

commanding her upon her life to keep secret the same; but

she, forgetful of her charge, disclosed it in confession to

my wife, as they went a pilgrimage over an heath, with like

conjuration of secrecy. But she, woman-like, contained it no

longer than till she met with me, and gave me a full

knowledge of all that had passed, yet so as by all means

I must keep it secret too, for she had sworn by the three

kings of Cologne never to disclose it: and withal she gave

me such assurance by certain tokens, that I right well found

all was true which she had spoken; insomuch that the very

affright thereof made my hair stand upright, and my heart

become like lead, cold and heavy in my bosom.

"But to proceed from this sorrow, I began to meditate how

I might undo my father's false conspiracies, who sought to

bring a base traitor and a slave into the throne imperial;

for I well perceived, as long as he held the treasure, there

was a possibility of deposing your Majesty. And this

troubled my thought exceedingly, so that I laboured how I

might find out where my father's treasure was hid; and to

that end I watched and attended night and day in the woods,

in the bushes, and in the open fields; nay in all places

wheresoever my father laid his eyes, there was I ever

watching and attending. Now it happened on a time, as I was

laid down flat on the ground, I saw my father come running

out of a hole, and as soon as he was come out, he gazed

round about him, to see if any discovered him; then seeing

the coast clear, he stopped the hole with sand, and made it

so even, smooth, and plain, that no curious eye could

discern a difference betwixt it and the other earth; and

where the print of his foot remained, that with his tail he

stroked over, and with his mouth so smoothed, that no man

might perceive it: and indeed that and many other subtilties

I learned of him there at that instant. When he had thus

finished, away he went towards the village about his private

affairs. Then went I presently towards the hole, and

notwithstanding all his subtilty, I quickly found it out;

and then entered I the cave, where I found that innumerable

quantity of treasure, which cannot be expressed; which

found, I took Ermelin my wife to help me; and we ceased not,

day nor night, with infinite great toil and labour, to carry

and convey away this treasure to another place, much more

convenient for us, where we laid it safe from the search of

any creature.

"Thus by my art only was the treason of Bruin defeated, for

which I now suffer. From hence sprang all my misfortune, as

thus: those foul traitors, Bruin and Isegrim, being of the

King's privatest council, and sitting in high and great

authority, tread upon me, poor Reynard, and work my

disgrace, notwithstanding, for your Majesty's sake, I have

lost my natural father. O my dread Lord, what is he, or who

can tender you a better affection, thus to lose himself to

save you?"

Then the King and Queen, having great hope to get this

inestimable treasure from Reynard, took him from the gibbet;

and the King taking a straw from the ground, pardoned the

fox of all his trespasses which either he or his father had

ever committed. If the fox now began to smile, it was no

wonder; the sweetness of life required it: yet he fell down

before the King and Queen, and humbly thanked them for

mercy, protesting that for that favour he would make them

the richest princes in the world.

Then the King began to inquire where all these treasures

were hid, and Reynard told that he had hid them in a wood

called Hustreloe, near a river named Crekinpit. But when the

King said that he had never heard of such a place, Reynard

called forth Kyward the Hare from among the rest of the

beasts, and commanded him to come before the King, charging

him, upon his faith and allegiance which he bore to the King

and Queen, to answer truly to such questions as he should

ask him.

The hare answered, "I will speak truth in all things, though

I were sure to die for the same."

Then the fox said, "Know you not where Crekinpit floweth?"

"Yes," said the hare, "I have known it any time these dozen

years; it runneth in a wood called Hustreloe, upon a vast

and wide wilderness."

"Well," said the fox, "you have spoken sufficiently; go to

your place again;" so away went the hare.

Then said the fox, "My sovereign Lord the King, what say you

now to my relation; am I worthy your belief or no?"

[Illustration: REYNARD BRINGS FORWARD THE HARE AS

HIS WITNESS.]

The King said, "Yes, Reynard, and I beseech thee excuse my

jealousies; it was my ignorance which did thee evil;

therefore forthwith make preparation that we may go to this

pit where the treasure lieth."

But the fox answered that he could not go with his Majesty

without dishonour; for that at present he was under

excommunication, and that it was necessary that he should go

to Rome to be absolved, and that from thence he intended to

travel in the Holy Land. "The course you propose is good,"

said the King; "go on and prosper in your intent."

Then the King mounted on a rock, and addressing his

subjects, told them how that, for divers reasons best known

to himself, he had freely given pardon to Reynard, who had

cast his wickedness behind him, and would no more be guilty

of wrongdoing; and furthermore, he commanded them all to

reverence and honour not only Reynard, but also his wife and

children. At this, Isegrim the Wolf and Bruin the Bear

inveighed against the fox in such an unseemly way, that his

Majesty caused them both to be arrested for high treason.

Now when the fox saw this, he begged of the Queen that he

might have so much of the bear's skin as would make him a

large scrip for his journey; and also the skin of the wolf's

feet for a pair of shoes, because of the stony ways he would

have to pass over. To this the Queen consented, and Reynard

saw his orders executed.

The next morning Reynard caused his new shoes to be well

oiled, and made them fit his feet as tightly as they had

fitted the wolf's. And the King commanded Bellin the Ram to

say mass before the fox; and when he had sung mass and used

many ceremonies over the fox, he hung about Reynard's neck

his rosary of beads, and gave him into his hands a palmer's

staff.

Then the King took leave of him, and commanded all that were

about him, except the bear and the wolf, to attend Reynard

some part of his journey. Oh! he that had seen how gallant

and personable Reynard was, and how well his staff and his

mail became him, as also how fit his shoes were for his

feet, it could not have chosen but have stirred in him very

much laughter. But when they had got onward on their way,

the fox entreated all the beasts to return and pray for him,

and only begged of Bellin the Ram and Kyward the Hare that

they would accompany him as far as Malepardus.

Thus marched these tree together; and when Reynard was come

to the gates of his own house, he said to Bellin, "Cousin, I

will entreat you to stay here without a little, whilst I and

Kyward go in." Bellin was well content; and so the fox and

the hare went into Malepardus, where they found Dame Ermelin

lying on the ground with her younglings about her, who had

sorrowed exceedingly for the loss and danger of her husband;

but when she saw his return, her joy was ten times doubled.

But beholding his mail, his staff, and his shoes, she grew

into great admiration, and said, "Dear husband, how have you

fared?" so he told all that had passed with him at the

King's court, as well his danger as his release, and that

now he was to go a pilgrimage. As for Kyward, he said the

King had bestowed him upon them, to do with him what they

pleased, affirming that Kyward was the first that had

complained of him, for which, questionless, he vowed to be

sharply revenged.

[Illustration: REYNARD ON HIS PILGRIMAGE TO ROME.]

When Kyward heard these words, he was much appalled, and

would fain have fled away; but he could not, for the fox had

got between him and the gate; who presently seized the hare

by the neck, at which the hare cried unto Bellin for help,

but could not be heard, for the fox in a trice had torn out

his throat; which done, he, his wife, and young ones feasted

therewith merrily, eating the flesh, and drinking to the

King's health.

All this while stood Bellin the Ram at the gate, and grew

exceeding angry both against the fox and the hare, that they

made him wait so long; and therefore called out aloud for

Reynard to come away, which when Reynard heard, he went

forth, and said softly to the ram, "Good Bellin, be not

offended for Kyward is in earnest conference with his

dearest aunt, and entreated me to say unto you, that if you

would please to walk before he would speedily overtake you,

for he is light of foot and speedier than you: nor will his

aunt part with him thus suddenly, for she and her children

are much perplexed at my departure."

"Ay, but," quoth Bellin, "methought I heard Kyward cry for

help."

"How, cry for help? can you imagine he shall receive hurt in

my house? far be such a thought from you; but I will tell

you the reason. As soon as we were come into my house, and

that Ermelin my wife understood of my pilgrimage, presently

she fell down in a swoon, which when Kyward saw, he cried

aloud, 'O Bellin come, help my aunt, she dies, she dies!'"

Then said the ram: "In sadness I mistook the cry, and

thought the hare had been in danger."

"It was your too much care of him," said the fox. "But,

letting this discourse pass, you remember, Bellin, that

yesterday the King and his council commanded me that, before

I departed from the land, I should send unto him two

letters, which I have made ready, and will entreat you,

my dearest cousin, to bear them to his Majesty."

The ram answered: "I would willingly do you the service if

there be nothing but honourable matter contained in your

letters; but I am unprovided of any thing to carry them in."

The fox said: "That is provided for you already, for you

shall have my mail, which you may conveniently hang about

your neck; I know they will be thankfully received of his

Majesty, for they contain matter of great importance."

Then Bellin promised to carry them. So the fox returned into

his house, and took the mail, and put therein the head of

Kyward, and brought it to the ram, and gave him a great

charge not to look therein till it was presented to the

King, as he did expect the King's favour; and that he might

further endear himself with his Majesty, he bade the ram

take upon him the inditing of the letters, "which will be so

pleasing to the King, that questionless he will pour upon

you many favours."

This said, Bellin took leave of the fox and went toward the

court, in which journey he made such speed, that he came

thither before noon, where he found the King in his palace

sitting amongst the nobility.

The King wondered when he saw the ram come in with the mail

which was made of the bear's skin, and said: "Whence comest

thou, Bellin, and where is the fox, that you have that mail

about you?"

Bellin answered: "My dread Lord, I attended the noble fox

to his house, where, after some repose, he desired me to

bear certain letters to your Majesty of infinite great

importance, to which I easily consented. Wherefore he

delivered me the letters enclosed in this mail, which

letters I myself indited, and I doubt not but they are

such as will give your highness both contentment and

satisfaction." Presently the King commanded the letters to

be delivered to Bocart, his secretary, who was an excellent

linguist and understood all languages, that he might read

them publicly; so that he and Tibert the Cat took the mail

from Bellin's neck, and opening the same, instead of letters

they drew out the head of Kyward the Hare, at which being

amazed, they said: "Wo and alas, what letters call you

these? Believe it, my dread Lord, here is nothing but the

head of poor murdered Kyward."

Which the King seeing, he said: "Alas, how unfortunate was

I to believe the traitorous fox!" And with that, being

oppressed with anger, grief, and shame, he held down his

head for a good space, and so did the Queen also. But in the

end, shaking his curled locks, he groaned out such a

dreadful noise, that all the beasts of the forest did

tremble to hear it.

Then the King, full of wrath, commanded the bear and the

wolf to be released from prison, and gave to them and to

their heirs for ever Bellin and all his generation.

Thus was peace made between the King and these nobles, and

Bellin the Ram was forthwith slain by them; and all these

privileges doth the wolf hold to this hour, nor could ever

any reconcilement be made between the wolf's and the ram's

kindred. When this peace was thus finished, the King, for

joy thereof, proclaimed a feast to be held for twelve days

after, which was done with all solemnity.

To this feast came manner all of wild beasts, for it was

known through the whole kingdom, nor was there wanting any

pleasure that could be imagined. Also to this feast resorted

abundance of feathered fowl, and all other creatures that

held peace with his Majesty, and no one missing but the fox

only.

Now after this feast had thus continued in all pomp the

space of eight days, about high noon came Laprell the Rabbit

before the King and Queen, as they sat at dinner, and with a

heavy and lamentable voice said: "My gracious and great

Lord, have pity upon my misery and attend to my complaint,

which is of great violence which Reynard the Fox would

yesterday have committed against me. As I passed by the

castle of Malepardus, supposing to go peaceably towards my

nest, I saw the fox, standing without his gates, attired

like a pilgrim and telling his beads so devoutly, that I

saluted him; but he, returning no answer, stretched forth

his right foot, and with his pilgrim's staff gave me such a

blow on the neck between the head and shoulders, that I

imagined my head had been stricken from my body; but yet so

much memory was left me that I leaped from his claws, though

most grievously hurt and wounded. At this he was wrathful

extremely, because I escaped; only of one of my ears he

utterly deprived me, which I beseech your Majesty in your

royal nature to pity, and that this bloody murderer may not

live thus to afflict your poor subjects."

The royal King was much moved with anger when he heard this

complaint, so that his eyes darted out fire amongst the

beams of majesty; his countenance was dreadful and cruel to

look on, and the whole court trembled to behold him. In the

end he said: "By my crown, I will so revenge these outrages

committed against my dignity, that goodness shall adore me,

and the wicked shall die with the remembrance; his falsehood

and flattery shall no more get belief in me. Is this his

journey to Rome and to the Holy Land? are these the fruits

of his mail, his staff, and other ornaments becoming a

devout pilgrim? Well, he shall find the reward of his

treason. I will besiege Malepardus instantly, and destroy

Reynard and his generation from the earth for ever."

[Illustration: REYNARD ATTACKETH LAPRELL THE RABBIT.]

When Grimbard heard this, he grew exceedingly sorry, and

stealing from the rest, he made all haste to Malepardus, and

told to his uncle all that had happened. Reynard received

him with great courtesy, and the next morning accompanied

him back to court, confessing on his way many heinous sins,

and obtaining absolution from the badger. The King received

him with a severe and stately countenance, and immediately

asked him touching the complaint of Laprell the Rabbit.

To which Reynard made answer: "Indeed, sire, what Laprell

received he most richly deserved. I gave him a cake when he

was hungry; and when my little son Rossel wanted to share a

bit, the rabbit struck him on the mouth and made his teeth

bleed; whereupon my eldest son Reynardine forthwith leaped

upon him, and would have slain him had I not gone to the

rescue." Then the rabbit, fearing Reynard, stole away out of

court.

"But," quoth the King, "I must charge you with another foul

treason. When I had pardoned all your great transgressions,

and you had promised me to go a pilgrimage to the Holy Land;

when I had furnished you with mail, scrip, and all things

fitting that holy order; then, in the greatest despite, you

sent me back in the mail, by Bellin the Ram, the head of

Kyward the Hare; a thing so notoriously to my disgrace and

dishonour, that no treason can be fouler."

Then spake Reynard to the King, and said, "Alas, my

sovereign Lord, what is that you have said? Is good Kyward

the Hare dead? Oh, where is then Bellin the Ram, or what did

he bring to your Majesty at his return? For it is certain I

delivered him three rich and inestimable jewels, I would not

for the wealth of India they should be detained from you;

the chief of them I determined for you my Lord the King,

and the other two for my sovereign Lady the Queen."

"But," said the King, "I received nothing but the head of

poor murdered Kyward, for which I executed the ram, he

having confessed the deed to be done by his advice and

counsel."

"Is this true?" said the fox; "then wo is me that ever I was

born, for there are lost the goodliest jewels that ever were

in the possession of any prince living; would I had died

when you were thus defrauded, for I know it will be the

death of my wife, nor will she ever henceforth esteem me."

Then Reynard told the King and Queen of the great value of

these inestimable jewels. One was a gold ring, another a

comb polished like unto fine silver, and the third was a

glass mirror; and so great were the virtues of this rare

glass that Reynard shed tears to think of the loss of it.

When the fox had told all this, he thus concluded: "If any

one can charge me with crime and prove it by witness, here

I stand to endure the uttermost the law can inflict upon me;

but if malice only slander me without witness, I crave the

combat, according to the law and instance of the court."

Then said the King, "Reynard, you say well, nor know I any

thing more of Kyward's death than the bringing of his head

unto me by Bellin the Ram; therefore of it I here acquit

you."

"My dear Lord," said the fox, "I humbly thank you; yet is

his death grievous unto me."

But Isegrim the Wolf was not content with this conclusion,

and defied the fox to mortal combat. This challenge the fox

accepted; and the next day was appointed for the meeting.

When all the ceremonies were done, and none but the

combatants were in the lists, the wolf went toward the fox

with infinite rage and fury, thinking to take him in his

fore-feet; but the fox leaped nimbly from him, and the wolf

pursued him, so that there began a tedious chase between

them, on which their friends gazed. The wolf taking larger

strides than the fox, often overtook him, and lifted up his

feet to strike him; but the fox avoided the blow, and smote

him on the face with his tail, so that the wolf was stricken

almost blind, and was forced to rest while he cleared his

eyes; which advantage when Reynard saw, he scratched up the

dust with his feet, and threw it in the eyes of the wolf.

This grieved him worse than the former, so that he durst

follow him no longer, for the dust and sand sticking in his

eyes smarted so sore, that of force he must rub and wash it

away; which Reynard seeing, with all the fury he had he ran

upon him, and with his teeth gave him three sore wounds on

his head.

Then the wolf being enraged, said, "I will make an end of

this combat, for I know my very weight is able to crush him

to pieces; and I lose much of my reputation, to suffer him

thus long to contend against me." And this said, he struck

the fox again so sore a blow on the head with his foot, that

he fell down to the ground; and ere he could recover himself

and arise, the wolf caught him in his feet and threw him

under him, lying upon him in such wise, as if he would have

pressed him to death.

Then the fox bethought himself how he might best get free;

and thrusting his hand down, he caught the wolf fast by the

belly, and he wrung him so extremely hard thereby, that he

made him shriek and howl out with the anguish, and in the

end the wolf fell over and over in a swoon; then presently

Reynard leaped upon him, and drew him about the lists and

dragged him by the legs, and struck, wounded, and bit him in

many places, so that the whole field might take notice

thereof.

Then a great shout was raised, the trumpets were sounded,

and every one cried, "Honour to the fox for this glorious

conquest." Reynard thanked them all kindly, and received

their congratulations with great joy and gladness. And, the

marshals going before, they went all to the King, guarding

the fox on every side, all the trumpets, pipes, and

minstrelsy sounding before him.

When Reynard came before the King he fell on his knees, but

the King bade him stand up, and said to him, "Reynard, you

may well rejoice, for you have won much honour this day;

therefore here I discharge you, and set you free to go

whither your own will leads you." So the court broke up,

and every beast returned to his own home.

With Reynard, all his friends and kinsfolk, to the number of

forty, took their leave also of the King, and went away with

the fox, who was no little glad that he had sped so well,

and stood so far in the King's favour; for now he had power

enough to advance whom he pleased, and pull down any that

envied his fortune.

After some travel the fox and his friends came to his

borough or castle of Malepardus, where they all, in noble

and courteous manner, took leave of each other, and Reynard

did to every one of them great reverence, and thanked

them for the love and honour he had received from them,

protesting evermore to remain their faithful servant, and to

send them in all things wherein his life or goods might be

available unto them; and so they shook hands and departed.

Then the fox went to Dame Ermelin his wife, who welcomed him

with great tenderness; and to her and her children he

related at large all the wonders which had befallen him at

court, and missed no tittle or circumstance therein. Then

grew they proud that his fortune was so excellent; and the

fox spent his days from thenceforth, with his wife and

children, in great joy and content.

ROBSON, LEVEY, AND FRANKLYN, GREAT NEW STREET.

* * * * *

* * * *

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Errata (noted by transcriber)

that demure conscience-striken pair [_text unchanged_]

we will give the right of burial

[_text unchanged: error for "rite"?_]

End of Project Gutenberg's The Comical Creatures from Wurtemberg, by Unknown

The Comical Creatures from Wurtemberg Second Edition · 第 3 / 3 章