j^> 'V**^v "^v, ft, .: ^^ mtimm, * v w v w w w v, v ^ ^ V /UWW* W "AMljLOfi#r .^^wwwuyu ^ ui ,* w *vvwv^v v >^w^'< S^*W$$i ^^^^'^^^^^^^^'^titi^. m^^Ml^m wwiiffl A A /vJ; A ; A;L/. v-V^i^ iisM^S^^ af^S^,2!^ &atafc^^ i 5 ^* ^wV^ ;-*--wis*gs-s^ M * ^,w 5 ^,---,JUW W 'j*tof* Mii^aiajass^ -^v/vtfijyyy ^y^^ IN Frank MEMOMAM Melvin Burastead 1862-1938 < I /s BEYMD THE FOX, POEM IN TWELVE CANTOS. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY !8I(0)ILIL(DWAY a WITH THIRTY -SEVEN ENGRAVINGS ON STEEL, AFTER DESIGNS BY H. LEUTEMANN. PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETORS BY A. H. PAYNE. DRESDEN AND LEIPZIG. W. FRENCH. LONDON. 67, PATERNOSTER ROW. PREFACE. Fables and tales, in which the imagination of the narrator invests animals with the faculties of speech and reason, and represents them as acting under the influence of motives similar to those which would affect human beings in like circumstances , owe their origin to a very early state of society, in which the hunter and the herdsman, compelled by the necessities of their occupations to a close observation of the animals which formed the objects of their pursuit or of their care, acquired by the daily exercise of this faculty, an intimate acquaintance with their various habits and pecu- liarities. For those animals with which mankind were most familiar, as well as for those whose strength, cunning, or ferocity, rendered them objects of fear or of aversion, there arose in addition to their proper appellations, by-names, expressive of the feelings with which they were regarded-, and these in the course of time, becoming established as regular appellations, were sometimes combined with the proper name, and sometimes superseded it. If the relation thus established between man and the inferior animals, had its bounds in reality, these were easily overstepped by the imagination ; and as a child is unaware of the gulf which sepa- rates the human being from the brute creation, and treats animals as creatures scarcely inferior to itself, so in early ages they were regarded with very different feelings from those which exist in later times. That men were sometimes transformed into animals, and animals into men, formed an article in the creed of many of the nations of antiquity, and from this belief arose in all probability, the strange doctrine of the transmigration of souls. In times of need or danger, they expected counsel and even assistance, from certain animals; while to others they attributed powers of evil, far greater than they really possessed, and avoided from superstitious fear, even to pronounce their names. Without animals, the colour and sex of which demanded the most serious consideration, certain sacrifices could not be performed, nor auguries obtained; and the flight of birds and the movements of beasts, were supposed to forebode success or misfortune, to the undertakings in which they chanced to be engaged. In their inarticulate cries (which certain gifted persons professed to understand), they were supposed to hold converse concerning the affairs and destiny of the human race, to discuss their actions, and to foretell the results. Where these or similar ideas existed, it is evident that imagi- nation would soon produce tales and fables, in which irrational creatures would be represented as con- t 2 8 IV PREFACE. ducting their loves and wars, their search for prey, and their migrations from one place to another, on the same principles, and from the same motives, as those of mankind; and that these fictions gradually accumulating, and receiving the stamp of antiquity, would form the ground on which new fables of a similar character would arise ; but bearing a more modern stamp, and adapted to the ideas and feelings of the age in which they were written. Poetry , soon assigned to the animals who were already half human in their actions, the necessary gift of human speech, a concession indispensable to their employment in fable, yet scarcely more repugnant to reason than the ordinary poetical licence by which two heroes or chiefs of different nations, are enabled to harangue each other in the same language. Fictions of this description are therefore, like all epic poetry, founded upon ancient traditions, which pos- sessing an innate vitality sufficient to render them capable of adapting themselves to the changes of time and circumstances, re-appeared at different periods in new forms and phases , exhibiting at each stage of their developement, peculiarities derived from the manners and customs of the time. They differ from other epic poetry only in the circumstance that this, if not always describing actual occurrences, is closely con- nected with the history of the past, and deals with events at least within the bounds of possibility ; while fable assumes a ground which renders it necessary to abandon even the appearance of truth, and appeals entirely to the imagination of the reader. As language has assigned a sex to many inanimate objects, poetry has invested animals with a history; and once admitted into the province of fable, all doubts of the reality of the incidents begin to vanish; we feel ourselves interested, and as it were carried away by the stream of the narrative, and feel a sympathy for the animals whose adventures are recorded, which is scarcely less vivid than that excited by the human heroes of a poem or a legend. We forget that the actors are merely beasts, and attribute to them the faculties, sentiments, and inclinations of the human race; and consequently see without astonishment, human beings intro- duced into the story, and performing their parts on terms of perfect equality with the inferior animals. These characteristics give to fable a peculiar charm, which is wanting in legends in which the actors are entirely human, and which arises from the circumstance that the characters combine the intellect habits, and customs of men, with the instincts and propensities of animals. Thus, the murdered Hen is borne on a bier to the King, who causes the funeral service to be performed over her remains, and a monument to be erected to her memory; the Wolf is received into a cloister of monks, and invested with the tonsure, and the Man in his dispute with the Serpent, admits the Lion to be the natural judge of the cause. On the other hand, the peculiarities of the various animals are called into play, and contribute in no small degree to the interest of the story. The fondness which the Bear exhibits for honey, and the Cat for mice, produces two of the most amusing incidents; while in his combat with the Wolf, the Fox has recourse to all his natural artifices, for the purpose of annoying his enemy. This combination of two opposite elements is indispensable to the purposes of fable, and a tale in which the characters acted wholly as men, or wholly as animals, would be defi- cient in the spirit proper to this class of compositions. The original intention of fables seems to have been merely to produce amusement by representing human actions parodied by animals, and in their most ancient form they can neither be considered as satires on the vices or follies of mankind, nor as parabolical accounts of historical occurrences; while PREFACE. their application to a burlesque on serious poetry, belongs to a far later age than that in which they Olio-mated. Still less do they appear to have been intended as moral lectures, as in many instances, the bad by the exercise of greater acuteness, obtain the advantage over the good. The vices of men appear to be sometimes represented as the virtues of animals, as if our better qualities were of too high an order to be shared by them, and the similarity was intended to be confined to those qualities which man possesses in common with the brute creation. Hence it is their cunning, falsehood, rage, envy, malice, and stupidity, and the crimes and failings arising from these qualities, which are usually exhibited , and but seldom the nobler emotions of love , fidelity, or generosity ; courage indeed is an exception to the rule, as this quality is too obvious in most wild animals, to be easily passed over. The moral therefore, when any is apparent, is mostly of a negative character, seldom amounting to more than a warning not to imitate the beasts. The fables which have descended to us from the Greeks, and which are usually attributed to JEsop, have passed through so many hands, and have received so many alterations, that their ori- ginal form is no longer to be perceived ; while those of Phsedrus , are mere imitations of those of ^Esop, destitute alike of poetical feeling and of originality. Of more importance are the fables of Oriental origin, an examination of which would however lead us too far from our present purpose. The fables composing the ancient poem of Reynard the Fox, are apparently of Teutonic origin, although from their similarity in some, particulars to those of .2Esop , they have been supposed to be indirectly derived from the same source. This opinion is however vehemently opposed by all German writers on the subject, on the ground that the fable of the Sickness of the Lion, which forms the motive of the earliest Latin poem on the subject, exists in a German manuscript of the tenth century, and can be traced with certainty to as early a period as the seventh; while at the latest of these dates, the fables of ^Esop were unknown in western Europe. Jacob Grimm, the celebrated German philo- logist, in his elaborate work on the subject, entitled "Reinhart Fuchs," pronounces that these fables originated in the Netherlands, the north of France, and the western parts of Germany, and observes that : " As some plants and trees only flourish and attain to full perfection in certain latitudes, beyond which they pine away and perish, so the animal - fable , never passed beyond the bounds of those countries, and extended neither to the south of France, Italy or Spam, nor on the other side to the Celtic nations, England, Scandinavia, or Slavonia. On the side of Germany at least, this boundary appears to be somewhat too closely drawn, as the north-eastern part of that country, in which the Low -German version of Reynard the Fox appeared, as well as the places in which the smaller poems of a similar character arose, are thus entirely left out of consideration. The earliest attempt at reducing the fables current in the Netherlands, to the form of a connected narrative, that has hitherto been discovered, is a poem hi Latin hexameters, entitled hengrimus, and written, as is inferred from internal evidence, in the first half of the twelfth century, by a clergyman of South - Flanders , whose name has however not descended to us. It was printed for the first time in 1834, in Jacob Grimm's Reinhart Fuchs; and consists of two fables or stories, ingeniously con- nected together by the circumstance of the Wolf's age. The first commences with the Sickness of the Lion, who summons a court in order to provide for the succession, in the event of his death. All the animals appear, with the exception of Reynard the VI PREFACE. Fox, and the Wolf takes advantage of his absence to calumniate his character and ruin his adherents, by advising the king to use the livers of the Goat and Ram, as medicines, and in the event of his health improving, to devour their flesh. Both being hated by him in consequence of an adventure in the house of the Chamois, which forms the subject of the second story. Joseph and Berfried (the Ram and Goat) drive the Wolf from before the throne with their horns, admonish him to take his proper place beside the Cat, and praise the Fox as having far better knowledge of medicine. The King orders him to be summoned, and appoints Guthero the Hare as his messenger; Renard promises to appear, but makes no haste to keep his word, first feeding himself fat, and then with a quantity of herbs , and a collection of old shoes , slowly wends his way to court. He excuses his delay by declaring, that on the first news of the King's sickness he had set out for Salerno, to seek for medi cines, and had worn out numerous shoes by the way, that swollen with hunger, he had at length arrived with the necessary herbs; the virtues of which however, would only display themselves when the patient was wrapped in the skin of a Wolf, of four years old. This Isengrim was to supply, and receive again when done with. On hearing this proposal , the Wolf endeavours to slink off; but is seized and about to be flayed, when he declares he is too old, and his skin therefore useless for the desired purpose. Renard replies that on the occasion of the adventure with the Chamois , he was but two years and a half old, and that only a year had elapsed since that event. The Goat and Ram confirm this statement, and he is consequently stripped of his hide, only retaining that on his head and feet. Isengrim retires in sullen fury, and the Lion having drunk the juice of the herbs, and perspired beneath the Wolf's hide, recovers. Renard is rewarded and made councillor to the King; and to amuse his patron, relates the story of Isengrim and the Chamois. Berliliana (the Chamois), sets out on a pilgrimage; at first she is alone, but is afterwards joined by seven other animals , each of which has a separate task allotted to it. The advanced guard is formed by those bearing horns, the Hart, Ram and Goat. Renard is director of the journey, the Ass porter, the Goose sentinel, and the Hare time -keeper. An old Wolf greedy for prey, follows them to the house in which they take shelter for the night ; but his vicinity is discovered by Renard, who bethinks him of a stratagem; and finding a dead Wolf hanging on a tree, cuts off its head and instructs Joseph how to conduct himself when Isengrim appears as guest. The night comes on , the pilgrims seat themselves at table, and the Wolf appears with peaceful greeting in the hut. At first they are terrified, but afterwards take heart, and desire him to be seated. Bertiliniana asks: -'What shall we set before our guest?" - Joseph replies: ''There is nothing but wolves' heads." - "Bring one here," cries the Fox, and Joseph brings the head. At the sight of it, Isengrim's tail falls invo- luntarily between his legs , and he fervently wishes himself elsewhere. Renard exclaims : " This head is good for nothing, bring a larger!" Joseph goes and brings the same again. "This is also good for nothing!" cries Renard, "the largest are in the other corner; two of the seven will be sufficient; or stay, bring the largest of all, that is bound with the hazle switch, that will be the best eating." He goes and brings in the same head, with a cudgel in its mouth. The guest trembles, the other animals encourage him. Gerhart the Goose, says: "He must have a fever, who can he fear, except me? Truly I could be terrible if I chose: the Wolf from whom I took this head was far stronger, and more cunning than he." - "Well," replies Joseph, "spare his, and let him eat: if P R E F A C E. VII he likes the fare, we can supply him for nine nights." "I am ill," cries Isengrim, "and astonished: who ever saw pilgrims carry with them the heads of so many wretched wolves ? " Renard replies : " We only take the heads of hostile wolves, not those of loving guests." "I have missed my way," rejoins Isengrim, "my wife and children await me, farewell!" "Will you not come with us?" cries the Hart, "We intend to hang or starve to death, all the wolves we meet with; and you can be our executioner." "I am too young for the office," replies Isengrim, "being only two years and a half old." In this poem, no traces of the threefold summons of the Fox to court, which forms a conspicuous incident in the later versions of the story, are to be perceived; but we observe in the accusations of the Wolf and the successful defence of the Fox, the foundation on which the subsequent structure was raised. About fifty years after the production of Isengrimus, viz. in the latter half of the twelfth century, appeared another Latin poem , bearing the title of Reinardus , believed to be the production of a clergyman named Nivardus, who is supposed to have been an inmate of the monastery of St. Peter at Ghent. The work is evidently founded on the earlier poem of Isengrimus, but consists of twelve fables or adventures; that of the Sickness of the Lion, forming the point around which the rest are grouped. The story of Bertiliana's Pilgrimage also appears in this collection, but with considerable alterations and additions. The various tales are but slightly connected with each other, and that not always in the happiest manner; as in the tenth adventure, where the Wolf is punished by the Lion, for not giving him the largest share of the booty, a piece of his hide is stripped off from his shoulder to his tail; the writer apparently forgetting, that he had already been flayed, in a preceding story. The next version of the story appears in the form of a High -German poem, also written in the twelfth century, by Heinrich der Glichsaere, or Glichsenaere, but only existing as a whole, in altered copies of the thirteeth century, from which it was first printed, in 1817, and afterwards in Grimm's Reinhart Fuchs. Fragments of the original poem have since been discovered, and were published by the above named author in 1840. The work consists of ten fables, apparently taken from very ancient sources ; and the threefold summons of the Fox to court, by the Bear, Cat and Badger, now appears for the first time. We also learn the cause of the Lion's Sickness (not given in the Latin poems), which is as follows: "The King had trodden down an ant-hill, which had refused to acknowledge his authority. The lord of the castle took revenge, and crept through the ear of the sleeping Lion, to the brain, and caused him pains that no one could allay." On the arrival of Reinhart, he orders the King a boiled hen with boar's fat, puts him to bed on the hide of the Bear, and covers him with that of the Wolf, both of which are stript off for the purpose. He then binds the patient with a girdle from the hide of the Hart, and places on his head a hat made from that of the Beaver. The ant creeps out of the King's head into the warm fur, and Reinhart letting the sun shine on the hat, finds the insect, which he threatens violently. The Ant excuses himself, and promises the Fox the lordship of a hundred castles, for his liberty; and pleased with this advantage Reinhart suffers him to escape. In the end, the Fox poisons the King, and escapes to his castle; a catastrophe in which this poem differs alike from those which preceded and followed it. The work bears internal evidence of having been taken from French sources, the names of the animals are German; but VIII PREFACE. an impure form , as : Hersant for Herswint , Isengrin for Isengrim , &c. &c. while the names Schan- lekler and Pinte (the cock and hen) are completely French. Proceeding in chronological order, we have now to notice the collection of French fables entitled the Roman du Renart, edited by Me"on, and published in 1826. It consists of twenty -seven fables or tales, which however do not form a connected whole, but the broken thread of the narrative has to be taken up anew in each story, and they sometimes contradict each other on particular points. The oldest appear to have been written in the latter part of the twelfth century, but they would seem to have been altered and revised in the succeeding age, and none of the existing manuscripts are older than the fourteenth century. The poems were evidently produced at different times and by various persons ; but the fables themselves had probably long circulated among the people, before they were written down and versified. The Sickness of the Lion, which forms the motive of the other poems, forms the subject of the twenty -first story; but it appears in an enfeebled and modernized form, and the cause of the Sickness is not related, as in Reinhart. In the sixteenth tale, appears the later form of the fable, in which the summons of the Fox to court, supersedes the older motive of the Lion's Sickness, and the threefold message is sent in the same manner as in Reinhart. The duel between the Fox and Wolf is also related in the nineteenth tale, but here Renart is vanquished, and only escapes by pretending to be dead. The Roman du Renart contains no less than 30,362 verses ; and if we reckon the poems of Le Couronnemens Renart, and the Nouveau Renart, which have also been edited by Meon, this number rises to 41,748. In addition to these, there exists another work hitherto unprinted, called Renart le conlrefet, which may perhaps contain as many; and we may hence obtain an idea of the immense extent to which this species of poetry was formerly cultivated in France. Under these circumstances it would be strange if the story never developed itself in a regular form; and Grimm considers it certain, that an older French poem, approaching closely in form to the German Reinhart, formerly existed; but of which no copy has hitherto been discovered. The loss of this more perfect French poem (if it ever existed), is in some degree compensated by the discovery of the ancient Flemish romance of Reinaert, first printed in 1812, afterwards in Grimm's Reinhart Fuchs, and again, edited by the Flemish philologist Willems, in 1836, at Ghent. The work consists of two parts, of which the first (answering nearly to the first six cantos of the followino- translation) formed originally a complete poem, the second part being a continuation by another hand. Willems, holds the Willem, who is named as the author, in the first line of the poem, as the writer of the second part only, but ascribes to him at the same time, the revision of the first part, as con- tained in the Amsterdam M. S. ; and considers him as identical with Willem Utenhove of Aerden- burg , in Flanders, who flourished in the middle of the thirteenth century. Grimm on the other hand, ascribes to him the authorship of the first part, and calls him Willem de Matok, because the first line of the poem, which in the Comburg M. S. is: Willem die vele boeke maecte , in the Amsterdam M. S. runs thus: Willam die madock maecte (Dair hi dicke om maecte), and believes madock to be the surname of the writer; while Willems considers the passage to mean PREFACE. IX that fPillem, was also the writer of a poem called Madock; no copy of which has however been discovered. We shall not attempt to decide a controversy, in which two writers so eminent for learning dis- agree; but content ourselves with the statement, that the first part of the poem seems to have been written about the middle of the thirteenth century, and the second part or continuation, from fifty to a hundred years later. The writer of the first part (according to his own statement) drew his mate- rials from French sources, which have since perished; but the scene of the story is laid in Flanders, and especially in the district between Ghent and Antwerp. The author of the second part also took his materials from the French, as is evident from several passages. It would seem that both poems soon came to be considered as one work, and it is probable they were generally placed together by the transcribers. After the invention of printing, both were reduced into prose by some unknown writer, who omitted the name of Willem ; but in other respects followed his original closely ; often suffering the rhymes to remain. The first edition of this prose, was printed at Gouda in Holland, in 1479, in 4to. and the second at Delft, in 1485, in 8vo. From this work arose an abridgement, intended for popular use, in which both the names and incidents were terribly mishandled; but it became a favorite with the public, passed through numerous editions in the course of the following three centuries, and still retains its popularity in Holland. No sooner had the prose version of the work appeared at Gouda, than the excellence of its contents occasioned its translation into the English language, and it was printed by Caxton 1481; another edition following in 1485 or 1487. In England as in Holland, a popular abridgement was found necessary, and appeared under the title of: "The most delectable history of Reynard the Fox. London 1639." This work still maintains its ground, a new edition having appeared in 1846. A continuation was also published, entitled: "The shifts of Reynardine, the son of Reynard the Fox. London 1684." There is also a French translation, called: Reynier le renard, histoire tres joyeuse el recreative. Anvers. 1566. 8vo. We now arrive at the Low - German version of the poem , entitled Reineke Bos , of which the following pages contain a translation. It is written in the dialect of Lower -Saxony, the first edition was published at Lubeck in 1498, and the second at Rostock, in 1517. It may be considered on the whole, as a free translation from the Flemish poem, in which the writer has taken the liberty of condensing and expanding the descriptions according to his own ideas of taste and propriety, as also of omitting certain incidents, and introducing others. With regard to the author, the most singular doubt and perplexity prevails. In the preface to the first and second editions, is the following pas- sage: "I Hinrek (Henry) von Alkmar, schoolmaster and teacher of ethics, to the noble Prince and Lord, the Duke of Lorraine, have at the wish of my gracious master, translated this book from the Italian ( Welsch) and French languages, into German, to the honour of God and the wholesome learning of those who read therein, and have divided the said book into four parts." Yet this passage can scarcely apply to the person who translated the work from the Flemish into the Saxon dialect, as a comparison of the two poems shews that the latter has been taken directly from the former, and often follows the original word for word. "What," asks J. Grimm, "could induce a Dutchman at the court of Lorraine, to translate a French work into the dialect of Lower -Saxony, which must have been strange to him, and which no one there could understand?" He adds however that the chro- tt V R E F A C E. nicies of Utrecht, shew that a certain Hendrick van Alkmaar, was expelled from that city between the years 1477 and 1481, but again permitted to reside there. He thinks it probable that Van Alk- maar afterwards became tutor to the children of Renat II. Duke of Lorraine, and supposes he may have slightly altered the Flemish poem , for the use of his pupils , dividing it at the same time into books and chapters, and adding a short prose introduction to each, in order that they might be more easily understood; and that Nicholas Baumann, to whom he attributes the authorship of the poem, adopted these alterations. And as both the first editions of the work have two prefaces, he imagines the first, containing the passage above quoted , to be written by Alkmaar , and the second by Bau- mann. The only direct evidence in favour of Baumann as the author of the Saxon poem, is a passage in the preface to George Rollenhager's poem called the Froschmauseler , in which it is said that the poem of Reineke Fuchs, was made by a learned and acute Saxon, Nicholas Bowman by name, and born near the source of the Weser. That he, having been for a time in the service of the Duke of Julich, was driven from thence by the calumnies of his enemies, and repairing to the court of Mecklen- burg, became the secretary of Duke Magnus. That he wrote the story of Reineke Fuchs from his own experience in the Duchy of Julich, and gave it to Louis Dietz, who caused it to be printed in the year 1522. It appears from this passage that Rollenhager was ignorant of the existence of the two editions of 1498 and 1517, and singularly enough, no edition bearing the date of 1522, has hi- therto been discovered. The earliest known edition by Dietz, was published in 1539, and differs from the two preceding, which were published before the reformation; inasmuch, as the old catholic prose between the chapters, is replaced by a protestant glossary, abounding in extracts from the contro- versial works of the time; and this has led to a suspicion that Baumimn's only share in the work was the production of the new glossary, in which case the name of the writer of the poem is still to be sought for. The falsehood of the story that the poem is a satire on the court of Julich, is apparent at the first glance; but Grimm observes, that Baumann may have given out that such was the case, either to make himself of more importance, or to attract attention to his book. While Alkmaar'e altered version of the Flemish work (if it really ever existed) rapidly sank into oblivion, the Saxon poem met with constantly increasing attention. In the edition of 1539, and in all subsequent editions, the passage concerning Henry von Alkmaar is suppressed, but no mention what- ever is made of Baumann; if this was also the case with the edition of 1522, is of course uncertain. The editions published in 1539, 1548, 1549, and 1553, are all by Dietz, are all in 4to, all contain 272 leaves, and are adorned with the same wood -cuts; but that of 1548, differs in some trifling particulars. The later editions, published in various parts of Germany, are very inferior both in cor- rectness and beauty to those of Dietz; but of late years several careful and elegant reprints have been produced. When the poem began to excite attention in Germany , an ill executed version in High - German verse, was produced by Michael Beuther, and published at Frankfort as the second part of a work called Schimpf und Ernst (Jest and Earnest) , in 1544. It appears to have been popular, as numerous editions followed, in all of which the names of the animals are misspelt through negligence. The wood -cuts, in the quarto editions are copies from those published at Rostock, but those in the octavo PREFACE. XI form, have better pictures, by Solis and Aman. In 1650, a new High - German version was published at Kostock, under the title of Reineke Fuchs , d. i. ein sehr niitzliches lust- and sinnreiches staats- biichlein. It is divided into three parts, with a new glossary suited to the taste of the time, and a preface, containing Rollenhager's account of Baumann. It is in verse; but has little of the spirit and humour of the original. From this work arose a version in High -German prose, which became popular , and passed through several editions. Both versions were adorned with the wood - cuts of Aman. Beuther's prose text, was put into very elegant Latin verse by Hartmann Schopper, in 1566, and printed at Frankfort, in 1567. This version also passed through several editions, and tended in no small degree to spread the fame of the poem in foreign countries. From one of the early editions by Dietz, arose a Danish translation in verse, called: en Rafluebog, som kaldes paa lyske Reineke Foss, by Herman Weiger. Liibeck 1555. 4to. which was reprinted several times. From this arose a Sweed- ish translation also in verse : Reyneke Foss, thet dr en skon och nyltigh dicht $"c. Stockholm 1621. 8vo. Also a prose version: Reinick fuchs eller Michel rdf 3 uplagan. Stockholm 1775. 8vo. An unprinted version also exists in the Icelandic language, probably taken from the Danish. Goethe's version, by which the poem is best known at present, appeared iii 1794, and is merely a translation of the Low - German poem , into High - German hexameters. The sense of the original is closely followed, and the principal alterations consist in the omission of the glossary, and the division of the poem into twelve cantos. Its success has induced the production of several other High -Ger- man versions, but in prose and verse, the most important being that by K. Simrock, which follows the original nearly line for line. Having thus traced the history of the original poem from the commencement of the twelfth cen- tury, to the present time, it only remains to add a few words respecting the present translation. The writer has followed his original as closely as the varying structure of the two languages world per- mit ; and has to acknowledge the assistance he has derived in so doing , from consulting the above mentioned version by Simrock. In the omission of the glossary, and the division of the poem into cantos, he has followed the arrangement of Goethe, as that best adapted to the taste of the present time, and as permitting the story to proceed without interruption to its close. In several instances he has felt himself compelled to alter, or at least to qualify, the sense of the original, as the passages in question if literally translated, would have been offensive to the taste of his readers, and must ne- cessarily have had the effect of excluding the work from the family circle. The same reasons have induced him to omit altogether an episode in the third canto, the more readily, as the omission does not in the slightest degree affect the thread of the narrative. Two or three obscure passages, the meaning of which even the acuteness and learning of the German commentators have failed to elicit, have also been left out, as their retention could only have served to puzzle the reader. In the versi- fication he has endeavoured to imitate as closely as possible the quaint and homely simplicity of the original, but has occasionally varied the metre, to avoid the monotony inseparable from the continued recurrence of lines of the same length. tt 2 HI PREFACE. The German names of the animals, have with the exception of those of the Fox and Bear, been retained in the translation, as for many of them, the English language possesses no equivalent words, while those bearing a meaning, would when translated, have been but ill adapted for introduction into verse. With regard to the latter, it may be necessary to add a few words of explanation. Reinke or Rcineke , the name of the Fox in the original , is the diminutive of Reinhart , a proper name of a man, and itself a corruption of Ragnohard; which according to Grimm, is derived from the Gothic word regan, and signifies a councillor. Accordingly, the excellent advice given by the Fox, is frequently alluded to in the story. Isegrim or Isangrirn , is also a proper name , applied to heroes and warriors , and means literally, Iron -grim. Isan or iron, being used as a synonyme for the sword or other weapon forged from that material. It implies a disposition cruel and unsparing as the sword, and is therefore very signifi- cantly applied to the Wolf. The Bear is called in the Latin poems Bruno, in the Flemish Brun, and in the Saxon Braun, all of which names apply to the colour of the animal; while Bellin, the name of the Ram, is derived (according to the authority above quoted) from the Latin word balare, to bleat. The names of the Lion', Nobel (noble), the She -wolf, Gieremund (Greedy -month), the young Wolves Eitclbauch (empty - belly) and Nimmersatt (never -full) , the female Crow Schafenebbe (sharp- beak), the Hen Kratzfuss (scratch - foot) , are all expressive of the various attributes of the animals ; but the remainder, do not appear capable of so direct an application. Leipzig 1852. E. JV. II. 4& :ied fur tli6rr-uprietors"by- A.H.Payne, I)resd ftp tUgnartr tlje CANTO THE FIRST. 'Twas on the feast of Whitsuntide, The fields were green in summer pride, And glittering o'er the mountain's side A thousand flowers appear'd. - Low i'rom the thicket coo'd the dove, And trilling loud their notes of love, In every bush, and brake, and grove, The feather'd quire were heard. From every bank and every vale, The violet blue and primrose pale, Perfumed the balmy air; And all below, and all on high, 1 The earth, the streamlets, and the sky, 'A Were bright, and gay, and fair. t-* II. ttobfl, the King of wood and waste, His trusty heralds sent Through all the land, in fiery haste, To call his parliament: Soon gathering round his awful throne, Stood many a chief of high renown, And many a haughty peer: Cutke, the Crane, in wisdom hoar, -fllitrkcitt., the Jay, and many more, Gather'd from far and near. One only fail'd amidst the throng, Ucnnari, a wicked wight, Accused of many a grievous wrong, And deed that shunn'd the light. REYNAHD THE FOX Of all the peers that there attend, The Badger was his only friend, And eke his brother's son; For every other valiant chief, Had each some private cause of grief, And plaint of evil done. III. The Wolf stood first before the throne, To state his case, and make his moan, And all the chieftains of his race, Folio w'd him to the judgment place, "O King," he cried, "give ear! By thy vast power and ancient fame, Thine ample sway and sacred name, Attend a subject's prayer! Justice I crave on Kegnatrfc vile, For many a wicked deed of guile, Inflicted upon me; But most, that he, devoid of shame, Sullied the honour of my dame; And in a cruel, horrid, way, Which it beseems me not to say, Blinded my children three. 'Tis true this tale hath long been told, But KcjmatiJ safe within his hold, Eefuses me the least redress And scorns, O King! thy high behest, As witnesses can tell. Not all the parchment made at Client, Would hold the sum of my complaint; And should I tell each knavish freak, The tale would last at least a week, Of Ucgnarii's malice fell. Much therefore must remain unsaid; But for my wife's lost fame, Vengeance upon the traitor's head, Before thy throne I claim!" IV. As Sfecjtim concludes his rede, A little Dog of Gallic breed, Stands forth before the royal bench And utters his complaints in French. He tells how once, in winter drear, A pudding's end, his only cheer, The Fox had stolen away: But now arose a furious wight, A Cat of fame, Sir tyiiut hight; (Both voice and accent showed his rage) He cried: "O King and [Magnates sage, Attend to me I pray! I speak not Kcjwarfc to defend, For of all creatures, in the end - None dread him more than I; But this old tale Ulackculos brings, Belongs to long forgotten things, And years have since past by: And if the truth you need must know, The pudding's end was mine, I trow! I found it on a certain night In a lone mill, in which with right, I hunted for my game. The weary miller soundly slept, And I into his pantry crept, I own it to my shame; But how could UhtduTkis pretend A right to this my pudding's end?" V. The Panther now takes up the word, And cries: "My noble King and Lord^! What need more words? tis plain in brief, That Kcgnarfc is an arrant thief; Nor would the traitor hesitate, To overthrow thy royal state, If by the deed he only gain'd A capon for his private end. Nor is this ah 1 ; for by my fay! - CAS TO THE FIRST. -a. a He murders folks in open day. A proof of this I now will tell, Which only yesterday befel: His victim see! the timid Hare, A man of virtues mild and rare, Who never is inclined to strife, And yet hath scarce escaped with life, From ttejmtU'ti's teeth and claws. The wily knave his path waylaid, Proposed to him his clerkly aid, To learn the Cliristian laws; And flatter'd him, a chaplain's place His many virtues well might grace. Charm'd with the offer, he agreed, And down they sat to sing the Creed; By accident I past that way, And listen'd to the holy lay: But scarce had -Campc sung a note, When tJcjmarti seized him by the throat You see his wounds! and but that I By lucky chance was passing by, Had slain him on the place. I ask if 'tis to be endured That this vile thief, to blood inured, To mischief and disgrace ; Shall daily break the peace and laws, Kill honest folks without a cause, And yet no vengeance fall? If so, you must expect to hear Complaints arise from far and near, Murmurs from one and all: His Majesty will bear the blame, His children's children feel the shame, And folks cry fie upon his name." VI. Exclaim'd the Wolf: "I swear in sooth, The tale has all the air of truth, And is, I solemnly aver, Only too much in character With all his former life! Ah, were he dead, I needs must say, 'T would be indeed a happy day, For us who hate all strife; But should he 'scape the vengeance due To his past crimes, I fear that new, Will still mark his career; And higher heads may feel his power, That fancy at the present hour, They 've little cause to fear." VII. While thus the plaintiffs clamour'd loud, The Badger rose amidst the crowd, And boldly took the foremost place To advocate his uncle's case. "An ancient proverb says," quoth he, "That: 'Justice in an enemy, Is seldom to be found:' And well its truth doth now appear; Yet well I know were Kcgnnrfc here, He would have little cause to fear, From all who stand around. While thrice told stories you renew, The damage he received from you, You wisely leave from out the tale, Though his defence 't might well avail. For instance: thou Sir 3fcgritlt, But lately made a bond with him, In which thou promised day by day, To hunt with him, and share the prey; And while thou brokest thy plighted faith, My uncle nearly met his death. Now truly how the chance befel, This grave assembly I will tell: It happ'd as near a road they lay, A carter chanced to pass that way, Charged with a load of dainty fish To taste which, both had well the wish; But not the cash to pay. REYNARD THE FOX t A bright thought enter'd Kfgnar&'s head, He quickly laid him down as dead, Upon the broad highway: Straightway the carter drew a knife, Resolved to take my uncle's life; But as he moved nor limb nor head, He held him for already dead; And threw the body in the cart, Thinking to take it to the mart, And there to sell the hide. All this was well to tlcgltarir's mind, Who to the Wolf, that lurk'd behind, Threw down the choicest he could find; And would no longer ride: But leaping nimbly from the cart, And hastening to receive his part, Soon found that greedy 3fcgrtm, Had left but fins and scales for him; While he himself to burst was nigh, And of a surfeit like to die." VIII. "Another tale upon my word, I'll state the fact as it occurr'd: It chanced a boor had slain a swine, Of which fiegnarir, whose nose is fine, Was soon aware, and hoped to dine. He sought the Wolf as comrade good, To share the adventure and the food; And creeping through a window high, Threw down the swine the Wolf hard by, Soon carried off the prize. But when poor fkgnarfc seeks to fly, He finds the sturdy watch-dogs nigh, Which with loud howl and furious cry, Pursue him as he flies: In vain his utmost speed he plied; With bleeding flanks and tatter'd hide, And many a wound on back and side, At length he got away: And but by chance an earth was near, To which he crept with toil and fear, He well had died that day." IX. "In haste he sought his comrade's place, Loudly bemoan'd his piteous case, And asked him for his share: Replied the Wolf: /Good friend of mine, The choicest part of all the swine, The fattest, tenderest, piece is thine!' But how did this appear? Was e'er such treachery said or sung! The stake, on which the swine had hung, Was all his portion of the spoil, Gain'd by his peril, pain, and toil. Speechless with rage and hunger too, KtJjUdrtr in silence soon withdrew; Nor need we doubt that in the end, He paid in kind his faithless friend." X. "A hundred deeds of the same sort, If time allow'd, I could report, Which, if you summon Kcgltatir here, No doubt will all at length appear. As for the rest you all have heard The charge both monstrous and absurd, In which, the Wolf to his own shame, Attacks the honour of his dame. Seven years ago, it seems by chance, My uncle met her at a dance, And as a gallant cavalier, Whisper'd soft nothings in her ear; - The Wolf had on a journey gone, And left his pretty spouse alone; So Kegnarii kept her company, But only in a harmless way Enough! Avere Sfcgrim but wise, He'd scorn to tell such shameless lies, 1 \ CANTO THE FIRST. And prize the honour of his wife, At least as dearly as his life. Then, Cantpc too has brought a tale, And not it seems without avail: - Mere empty twattle, idle lies! What! shall a teacher not chastise His lazy scholar's want of care? - That were indeed a maxim rare! Nor could a master e'er in sooth, Command respect from froward youth. - Then comes another idle story, Which tt)ackctlos has brought before ye; 'Tis scarce worth notice for in brief, 'Tis plain the Dog himself 's a thief, And that Kegnacfc was in the right, When he brought stolen goods to light. He would have hung the knave, in faith; But that the power o'er life and death, Itests with the King alone : For justice is his sole delight, And he but waved his feudal right, From reverence to the throne. For since the King a peace proclaimed, fiegnacti is thoroughly reclaim'd, Molests no traveller on his way; But lasts and prays the livelong day, Has left his ancient hold to dwell, Like hermit lone, within a cell; Wears next his skin a shirt of hair, And eats no flesh from year to year. All this I learn'd but yesterday, From one who lately past that way : - Absorb'd in penance, like a saint, He hears or heeds not, each complaint, Or he would doubtless come to court, And silence every false report." XI. The Badger's speech was scarcely done, When there appear'd before the throne, Advancing at a funeral pace, penning the Cock, with all his race. High in the midst, on sable bier, The relics of a Hen appear, A Hen without a head! A dame was she of noble blood, WTiom ficjmarti in a savage mood, Had number'd with the dead. Foremost of all the mournful train, March'd the two brothers of the slain; fircgant and fiantart, known to fame, As chieftains of an ancient name, Whose valiant deeds and honest worth, Were famed in France and Holland both; Each bore a lighted torch along, And chanted loud the funeral song; While others bore the bier on high, And mourn'd the dead, with many a sigh. With heavy hearts, and sore amaze, The court on the procession gaze; While fjcnnuuj, in a piteous tone, Lays his complaint before the throne. XII. "Great King," he cries, "in mercy hear!" See upon yonder blood - stain'd bier, A proof of Ucjjnar&'s cruel spite, And wanton enmity to right. When gloomy winter's frosts were gone, And brightly shone the vernal sun; When mantled o'er with cheerful green, The woods, and groves, and meads Avere seen; My heart was filled with bliss profound, To see mine offspring stand around. My faithful spouse the fruitful Hen, Had brought me sons, in number ten, And lovely daughters too, twice seven, A single summer's space had given: Fed by rich monks from garner good, All had their daily share of food, REYNARD THE FOX While sturdy mastiffs, stout and tall, Guarded the sheldering convent wall. This Unjnari) saw with envious eyes, And long'd my children to surprize; By night, the wall he lurk'd around, But when the dogs the intruder found, They chased him from the place: Nay, once they caught him at the door, And trounced him well, his hide they tore, And made him fly apace." XIII. "Now for a time in peace we dwelt, But soon his bitter rancour felt: One morn he came, as hermit drest, And brought thy royal manifest; There, 'neath thy hand and seal I found, A peace proclaim'd to all around. And then with canting voice, the liar, Assured me he'd become a friar, And brought a letter from his prior: Show'd me his hood, and shirt of hair, His rosary, and scapulaire; Took leave of me with pious grace, That he might hasten to his place, To read the nona and the sept, * And vesper too, before he slept: And as he slowly took his way, Read in his pocket breviary. We now believed all danger o'er, And ventured from the convent door ; But ah! that was a luckless day. Ucgttatd liad mark'd us for his prey. Oh! think what terror fills our hearts, As sudden from a bush he starts, And deaf to all our pleadings wild, * In monasteries, prayers were formerly said every hour during the day, beginning with the Prima at six in the morning. The Sept (Septima) and Kona, were the seventh and ninth prayers, which were repeated at one and three o'clock, in the afternoon. He carries off my eldest child. And now he once has tasted blood, His fury's not to be withstood; By day and night he's on our track, Nor hound nor huntsman keeps him back; Of lovely children, twenty -four, But five remain alive no more! But yesterday, my daughter here, Who now lies lifeless on her bier, The cruel Fox deprived of breath, Nor could the dogs avert her death; Her lifeless form alone they save, Which, ere I carry to the grave, I lay with many a bitter groan And tear, before thy royal throne. - Pity O King, a father's smart, And take his sad complaint to heart!" XIV. Then spoke the King: "Sir (Seimbatt see, This story doth but ill agree With thine, of penance, fast, and prayer! Should it prove true, I deeply swear, He rues the deed within the year." Then thus to ijcnutn$: "Friend," he said, "Words can but little aid the dead; Yet shall our court her vigils sing, And her chief mourner be her King. Her funeral o'er, we'll council take, How best our vengeance we may wreak." Then, straightway at the King's command, Both young and old, a mournful band, Around the body take their stand; And sing, in cadence long and slow, The dirge, Domino placebo. I'd tell, were not the tale too long, What part each took i'th' holy song, Who sung response or antiphon' Enough ! the Hen in earth was laid, Each prayer and blessing duly said; f -// / ,///, . /'s //////,;/. //,/ //,/, X/X'V - V^y/ I CANTO THE SECONP. And on her grave a marble stone, That bright as polish'd amber shone, Preserved in letters carved fair, The record of her virtues rare, That everyone her fate might scan; And thus the quaint inscription ran: - XV. "Here lies within the lap of earth, A dame of high and noble birth; fircifcfit^ her name, of Hens the best, Who eggs unnumber'd laid in nest, A fruitful mother she! But who alas, and woe the while! Perish'd by ttqmat&'s wicked guile, And shameful crueltie: Her guiltless death, his malice fell, This stone to latest times shall tell." XVI. And now the Monarch calls each peer, And bids them draw in order near, And council fit for royal ear, On KcDttarJi's case afford. They, after long debate, propose To send an envoy to his house; Bearing the high and stern command, On pain of loss of life and land, To fail not to appear at court, When next the nobles there resort. With high acclaim, fintno the Bear, They chose a.* royal messenger; To whom the King did say : "fintno, on thine allegiance fair, Before the court assembled here, I charge thee, thou thine office do, With wisdom, and with foresight too: Beware of Reynard's cunning wiles, His nattering words, and fawning smiles: - God keep thee as he may!" With confidence replied the Bear: "My Liege, be void of fear and care; For solemnly by heaven I swear, That should the sorry caitiff dare, To treat me but with scorn; So well that treatment I'll repay, That he will surely rue the day. That ever he was born." CANTO THE SECOND. The hardy Bear now took his way, To where Geimar&'s possessions lay; First past a Avide and dreary plain, A sandy and a waste domain, And came unto a hilly space, Where Kcimarft used to ply the chase. His hopes to find him there were vain, So he resumed his way again, And journeying on with dauntless heart, Soon reach'd the fortress Malepart; An ancient castle famed afar, As Kcgnttrti's last retreat hi war; For he had many a house and tower, As well beseem'd a chief of power. II. Sir Onuta to the portal hied, Expecting 'twould be open'd wide, As soon as he appear'd; REYNARD THE FOX But all in vain his sturdy stroke Resounded on the ponderous oak, No other sound was heard. With anger now his blows he plied: "What ho, ficjjncirtr! he loudly cried, Is nobody within? That here before thy castle walls, A royal envoy vainly calls; "Tis in itself a sin, Against thy Sovereign's dignity: Come forth I say! and know that I Am by the Monarch sent, To bring thee straightway to his court, To answer many an ill report. Shouldst thou refuse, it costs thy life, So come without delay or strife, Or surely thou'lt repent! With the King's self thou'st now to deal, Who threats with gibbet, fire, and steel, All traitors to the commonweal!" III. had well the summons heard, But silence kept, nor moved nor stirr'd, Revolving in his mind; How he should answer this rude speech, And Stltno better manners teach, Or pay him off in kind. Within his tower he deeper crept, Where many a cavern's winding cleft, Afforded him a refuge good, When banded foes against him stood. He fear'd from Crime's haughty tone, The messenger was not alone, And dreaded that an ambuscade Without the castle might be laid; But soon as he had seen and heard, That no such plot was to be fear'd. He ventured slyly from his lair, And thus address'd the listening Bear: "Welcome my friend and uncle dear, Thou honest, brave, and worthy peer, Welcome at every hour! Excuse me that I made thee wait, A moment at the outer gate, Of this my lonely tower: The vespers even then I read, Ere I betook me to my bed But heavens! I see thou dropp'st with sweat, Thy very hair with toil is wet! Impute it not to me I pray, That thou wast sent this weary way; Yet I am pleased, thy good report, Will doubtless aid me much at court, Where as I hear, base calumny And spite, have been at work with me. Pity, I can't this moment fly Thither in thy good company; Alas! I've eaten of some food, Which always fails to do me good; But morrow's morn, I make no doubt, I shall be able to set out." Rejoin'd the Bear, with courtesy, "What hast thou eaten then, I pray?" The Fox replied (to gain his end), "That 's little to the purpose friend! But I, as well thou know'st, am poor, And scant and meagre is my stote; To-day I'd naught within my home, Except a piece of honeycomb; And press'd by hunger I did eat, Although I loath such kind of meat." IV. With wonder then began the Bear, "Eh! what 's this story that I hear? Honey! why 'tis the best of food, Nought in the world is hnlf so good! /' // /.//Y//;/ ,/,) , //. /-. / 1 s crafty lies, I now must wander back to court, My shame and sorrow to report : Yet if I live, the knave shall rue, The misery he has brought me to!" The hope of vengeance gives him strength, So he resumes his march at length, With feeble steps and slow: Three lengthen'd days, with aches and pains, He drags himself across the plains, Cursing his treacherous foe; Till on the fourth, a longer stage, Concludes his weary pilgrimage. XV. As Dntno to the presence came, Exclaim'd the King: "In Heaven's name, - Is that the Bear I see? What can have been the cruel fate, That brought him to this hapless state Of shame and misery?" " Great King and Lord ! " the Bear replies, "Well mayst thou see with thine own eyes; The shameful treatment I have borne, From ttcjwatfc's malice, hate, and scorn!" Dark fell the Monarch's frown: - "Tenfold will I repay the deed, CANTO THE THIRD. A rope shall be the traitor's meed, I swear it by ray crown!" Forthwith he bids his heralds call, His trusty peers to council all, That they might give their sage advice And judgment, on a point so nice, As Uegnar&'s punishment: But after many a pro and con, At length they all decided on A course, the Monarch own'd was best; - Again to bear his high behest, An envoy should' be sent. And for the dangerous enterprize, They chose the Cat, as old and wise. XVI. His council's aid the King confess'd, And thus the messenger address'd, "Take care thou lett'st Sir Ucijnarir hear, Our royal will, both plain and clear ; Should we another summons send, He'll suffer for it in the end; And if he dare to brave our power, Hell rue it to his latest hour.: Though others words he may despise, Hell listen to thy good advice." fjittje replied : " I would prefer , Thou'dst choose some other messenger; For if he come, or if he stay, To me tis equal, either way: Besides, I'm neither strong nor large, And if to do thy royal charge, Great fintno's size and strength could fail, How shall a lesser wight prevail?" Rejoin'd the King: "Thy speech is nought! In many a giant's vainly sought, The shrewdness, wisdom, and address, Possest by others who are less." "Well," quoth the Cat: "Thy will be done! Within an hour I will begone, And should I, ere descends the night, Observe a sign upon my right; Fortune no doubt my steps will bless, And crown my mission with success. CANTO THE THIRD. As ijime now pursued the road, That led to Kcjimxr&'s chief abode; Soaring above him in the sky, Saint Martin's bird was seen to fly: "O messenger of fate," he cried, "Approach, and perch on my right side!' But vain his prayer, long to and fro, In fitful flight the bird did go; Till tired at length, it took its stand, Upon a tree, on his left hand. With gloomy look, the omen ill, Sir Cjtnje saw, yet mann'd him still; And journey'd, though in fearful mood, To where sly fiegnarJj's castle stood. As he approach'd, the Fox appear'd, And fjtmc's courteous greeting heard; Who said: "It grieves me sore to bring. An angry message from the King; But I am charged to bid thee fair, Thou straightway shalt to court repair, Forthwith to take thy trial there; And further, by my fay!" Shouldst thou refuse, the King hath sworn. 14 REYNARD THE FOX Thy disobedience thou shalt mourn, And rue the present day." Then fifgncirfc spoke: "My nephew dear! It joys my heart to see thee here, Wei-come to Malepart!" But in his inmost heart he thought, How ijttw's ruin might be wrought; And tax'd his brains to find a way, His Monarch's envoy to betray, Such was his wicked art. With courteous air, continued he: "I pray this night my guest thou'lt be, And early, if the morn be fair, Together we'll to court repair; For thee, 'bove all my friends I prize, As modest, bold, discreet, and wise; Unlike the sordid, greedy Bear, Who came with haughty threatenings here, And show'd himself so fierce and grim, I fear'd to go along with him." "Methinks 'twere best," the Cat replied, "We journey'd forth at eventide; Fair shines the moon upon the moor, The roads are dry and quite secure." "Not so," rejoin'd the Fox, "attend Tis said, 'the night is no man's friend,' And some who'd greet us fair by day, Might in the dark, our path waylay." "Well!" said the Cat, "but if I stay, What hast thou got for supper pray?" "Food shall not fail," quoth Kcjmcirtr," here I've honeycomb that's fine and clear." "That," ^ittJC cries, "I cannot eat; But if thou hast no other meat, Couldst thou not help me to a mouse? Perchance there are some in the house?" "Why no! But if thou wishest mice, I'll find thee plenty in a trice Not far from here a Parson dwells, Whose barn for such small game excels All other places far or near." "Does it?" quoth f)injc, "bring me there! For mice, according to my taste, Are of all kinds of game the best." - "Well!" cried UcgnarJr, "the labour's light, A costly meal thou'lt have to-night." III. The Fox led on, and fjhuc hied, With joyful heart at ttennnr&'s side; And soon they stood beside the wall Of a large barn, both broad and tall, Which sly Kcnnnrir had made a hole in, The night before, and deftly stolen A hen, the fattest of her race; And now he show'd the Cat the place. But ittactinct, the Parson's heir, A cunning noose had fasten'd there, Of which txCJWltrir was well aware. - "Now," quoth the Fox, "my nephew dear! Thou'st nought to do, but creep in here: Fat mice in store thou'lt find within, Hark how they squeak ! dost hear the din ! - Meanwhile, I will keep watch without, That no one comes, and finds thee out." Says ijimc: "Thinkest thou 'tis wise - Is there no danger of surprize? - Malicious priests are not so rare, But that there may be cause for fear." "Art thou so timid?" Ucjwuttr cries, "Truly, I scarce believe my eyes!" Well, if thou really fear'st to mouse, Let us return unto my spouse; Who'll doubtless find thee something nice, Though certainly 'twill not be mice." Stung by this sarcasm to the soul, fjtnje went straight into the hole; But scarcely had he entcr'd there, When he was caught within the snare. St. s// />/;// v ^/ 16 REYNAKU THE FOX And there at length his sorrows spoke, Lamenting loud his blinded eye And wounds, before his Majesty. The King was wrath as wrath could be, Again his council summon'd he; And ask'd what punishment should fall, On Ucgucirti base, the foe of all. But now the Badger timbact rose And said: "The Fox hath many foes; - But still, as long as he's a peer, His rights must be held sacred here; And a third summons must be sent, Ere he be doom'd to punishment." Replied the Monarch: "Prithee friend, Which of my nobles shall I send? Already, two of mighty name, Have been sent back in woe and shame; And who will risk his limbs and eyes In such a desperate enterprize?" rimbart rejoin'd: "Great Monarch see, This venturous messenger in me! Honour me with thy mandate high, And I'll fulfil thy wish, or die:" - "Go then!" exclaim'd the King; "And well I hope a better fate, Upon thine enterprize will wait, And better news thou'lt bring." VII. <>rimbart the Badger, hied him straight, Unto his uncle's castle gate; And found sly Kcjmatti and his spouse, Reclined at ease before the house; - Where, soon as reverence due he'd made, He thus the royal message said: "Uncle tkjmcirJr, thou'rt known with right, Both as a Avise and prudent wight, And wonder therefore fills my breast, That thus thou scom'st the King's behest. His latest summons now 1 bring; And trust me, 'tis a foolish thing, Thus to defy a Monarch's power, Whose rage increases every hour; As thou willst find when 'tis too late, If thus thou triflest with thy fate, Therefore my council heed: With me at once to court repair, Thine eloquence may stead thee there; Thou still mayst silence each complaint, And free thyself from treason's taint, Perchance find friends at need! But if my summons be in vain, The King will come with all his train; Then, what avails thy castle wall, Sooner or later it must fall, And thou, thy children, and thy wife, Will forfeit property and life." VIII. IJfJjnitrJf replied: "Thy council wise, It would be folly to despise; Perchance 'twere better in the end, The royal summons to attend. - The Monarch knows I've served the state, Hence comes my vile detractors' hate; - But when I stand before his face, I hope to gam his royal grace, E'en though my sins were ten times more, Than those set down unto my score. Among the council of the King, None can devise a subtle thing; - And ever in the council hall, I must find wisdom for them all ; They plot my downfall day and night, With envy vile, and wicked spite, And all the mightiest, I know, Have sworn to work my overthrow. - Hence my reluctance to appear, While these possess the royal ear; Yet now I'd better brave my fate, .;,<, CANTO THE THIRD. Than longer here my downfall wait: Besides my wife and children dear, Would die of anguish or of fear, Should the King's forces seek me here. - So now, though late, I will obey, And haste to court this very day, For at the worst, I can propose A composition with my foes." IX. Then Uegnari to his Ladye fine, Spoke thus: "My good Dame Cttttdcitt, See that thou tend'st my children twain; - Perchance I ne'er may come again! But most I charge thee to regard My youngest hope, the fair Ktgnar), In whom ere long, I hope to see As 'twere, mine own epitome; And Kcffel too, a pretty youth, Who 's not less dear to me in sooth: - See that thou guard'st them both with care, And I'll repay thy kindness fair, If ever I return ! " With that, at length Sir RcgnatJi hied, His nephew rimbatt at his side, Each haughty peer's complaint to meet, And at his Monarch's judgment seat, His future fate to learn. X. In silence now they took their way, But ere a mile behind them lay, BegnarJi cried: "Friend and nephew dear! I must admit I quake for fear Perhaps my dying day is near; And as no other priest is here, To thee I will confess. - In order I'll relate each sin, That when I stand before the King, Mine anguish may be less." ctmbrtrt replied: "This vow first make, Thine evil courses to forsake; From blood and plunder to refrain, Or all confessions are in vain." Quoth tUfittartr: "That I know full well, So listen while my tale I tell." XI. "Confiteor tibi Pater et Mater, I've sinn'd against the Cat and Otter, And many other wrongs have done, For which, by penance I'll atone." Quoth rintbdrt: "I've forgot my Greek The vulgar tongue I prithee speak, If I'm to understand!" Kcjjnarlr resumed: "I have done wrong To every creature, weak or strong, That dwells within the land: Within a tree I trapp'd the Bear, Who bore full many a buffet there, And fjinje too, I did ensnare, penning the Cock complains with right, - I slew his children day and night; Nor has the King escaped scot free, Nor Queen, from my cupidity. As for the Wolf, to tell each Avrong, Would make my story far too long; But once six summers since have flown, He came unto the convent lone, In which I then did dwell; Hoping by fast and penance drear, A former load of sins to clear. - He came I say, and sought mine aid, - Straightway a monk he would be made; And begg'd mine interest might provide, That he, at morn and eventide, Might toll the convent bell. - To his fore feet the rope I bound, That he might hear his favorite sound, :5 REYNAUD THE FOX And show'd him every different chime, For matin, vesper, and for prime. - But such a frightful noise he raised, That all the peasants round, amazed, Came running in from near and far, Deeming it sign of fire or war; And ere poor Sfrgriin could tell The reason why he'd raised the knell, With such good will their staves they plied, That on the spot he nearly died. - Soon after this, the silly knave A tonsure on his head would have; And I to meet his wishes, straight, Singed all the hair from off his pate; Until the very skin was scald, And ever since he hath been bald." XII. "And once in Julian land, at night, He came through me in woeful plight. - There dwells a priest, than whom around, No richer man is to be found; - Within his ample well -filled store, A hundred hams were found, or more, And juicy flitches many a score. As round about the house we prowl, 3fcgttm finds a narrow hole, Through which lie well could creep within, And fill at ease his empty skin; Nought hinder'd me from entering too, But I'd another end in view - I sought to bring the Wolf to shame, And what I hoped for, quickly came -- He ate so much, that all in vain, He sought to pass the hole again: - When he was hungry and thin, The chink had freely let him in'; But now that he was full and stout, 'Twas far too small to let him out." XIII. When 3fcQCtm was fairly caught, To rouse the neighbourhood 1 sought ; For this, I'd formed a cunning plan Into the Parson's house I ran, Who even then at supper sat, And carved at ease, a capon fat, Well roasted too, and brown. At once I seized the savoury bird - You should the Parson's voice have heard! As springing up with angry roar, He kick'd the well spread table o'er, And plates and dishes strew'd the floor; - His cries soon raised the town! 'Kill, kill the thief!' he shouts aloud, And soon the hurrying neighbours crowd, At their loved pastor's voice: - Ere long the chase too hot I found, And dropt the capon on the ground, I had no other choice; But 'too much haste is little speed', As soon the Parson found indeed; For as he hurried on, pelhnell, Into a puddle's filth he fell, Yet quickly did arise: And running to the store -house wall, Where I had let the capon fall, 3fcgrim 1 S head he spies." - XIV. "Loudly he calls the neighbours near; 'My friends, another thief is here, A Wolf too, welladay! Take care at least he don't get off, For we shall be the country's scoff, If both should get away!' What the Wolf thought, I don't well know, But certain 'tis, that many a blow, That night fell to his share: Soon his assailants' vengeful cry, fl 3 1 X j i CANTO THE THIRD. 19 Drew others there, who dwelt hard by; And all combined exert their strength To tan his hide, until at length, For dead they laid him there. 'Twere subject for a limner's art, On canvass fair, to paint the part, The Wolf on this occasion pla/d; As he, by sturdy peasants' aid, The Parson for his bacon paid. - Meanwhile, the triumph to complete, 3ffflirim 1 S dragg'd along the street; And thrown at length, as carrion vile, Into a ditch, where for a while, Sans every sense he lay: At length from out his swoon he woke, And from the place, as daylight broke, Crept ruefully away." XV. "Scarce a year since, again he swore, To be my comrade as before; The reason Avhy, full well I knew, He hoped some food I'd help him to; And I, that better I might cheat him, VoVd to a good fat hen I'd treat him, Swearing the work would be but light, To rob a roost that very night. I took him ('twas at midnight hour) Beneath the window of a tower, Which by a lattice we could climb, And cried: 'Come on, tis now the time!' Then made as if I crept within, But left the foremost place for him; - And in he went quoth I : ' Be brave And quick , if booty thou wouldst have ! ' He groped about, both here and there, And then began to curse and swear, Crying: 'Of hens there's not a trace, The dence a feather's in the place!' Quoth I: 'The fowls that were there, I've got, there's more behind I swear; Go gently forward, but take care!' Slim was the beam on which we stood, But my retreat was soon made good; Loudly the window to I clapt, And 3fcjrtm was now entrapt; With anxious haste he turn'd him round, But slipt and tumbled to the ground. Roused by his fall, the folks below. Who all had soundly slept till now: Got up in haste and struck a light, And in a corner found the wight, Trembling with fear and woe: Again his hide was curried well; But how at length the chance befel, That he amidst the blows and strife. Still managed to escape with life. In truth I do not know." XVI. "Thus nephew, all my sins I've said. And my confession fairly made; - Xow let me from my guilt be shriven. That I may make my peace with heaven: - Though hard the penance thou mayst lay. With humble heart I will obey." l&rimbart knew how to meet the case, For he was of a crafty race; He pluck'd a twig beside the way, And to his penitent did say: "Thrice o'er the back, I charge thee smite Thyself, with this - - with all thy might : Then lay it down before thee there. Leap o'er it thrice, with pious care, Kiss then the rod with penitence, And I forgive thee each offence; - Pronounce thee clear and free from all Thy many sins, both great and small." 3* REYNARD THE FOX With solemn face, but willing heart, The Fox perform'd the allotted part; And Ucgnarli's penance duly paid, This exhortation rimbatt made: "Friend, let thy penitence appear In thy good works, in fasts and prayer; Forsake thy former evil ways, From labour rest on holy days; Frequent each church and sacred place, And thou'lt attain to heaven's grace." Quoth Kennnrfc: "This I'll strive to do, I promise, nay I swear it too." XVII. When tJejjnart> 1 s shrift at length was o'er, The pair resumed their way once more: - Beyond was spread a fertile land, A cloister lay on the right hand, By Nuns possest: within whose pens Were rear'd unnumber'd cocks and hens, Fat geese and capons prime: On these, when from the yard they stray'd, ttennarfc had fearful forays made, On many a former time; And now to rimbart he did say: "Nephew, it is the nearest way, By yonder cloister gate;" For near the wall the knave had seen Fat poultry strolling on the green, And as the feather'd folk he near'd, With greedy lust his eye-balls glared, And he bethought him straight; How well a fat young hen would taste, Which chanced to lag behind the rest, As he was passing by; - Sudden he made a desperate bound, But miss'd his prey, although around, He made her feathers fly. XVIII. As thus his penitent proceeds, rimbart exclaims: "Are such thy deeds, Sinner unblest! - - Will'st thou again Thy soul with new offences stain, - And thy confession scarcely done, A new career of evil run?" KcgneivJr replied: "Oh nephew dear, 'Twas done without a thought, I swear! And I will offer prayers to heaven, That this new sin may be forgiven." XIX. Around the convent now they strode, And sought to gain their former road; ttcgnarft seem'd in reflection lost, But as a narrow bridge they crost, rimbftrt with anger spies; How ftcgnarfr o'er the verdant plain, Still watch'd the distant feather'd train, With eager, longing eyes: - So hard he gazed, that if his head Had been struck off, it would have fled, To seize upon the prize. XX. Cried ritnbart: "O thou greedy wight! Canst thou not turn thy sinful sight, From yonder fowls away?" Kcjjmxrl) replied: "Thy speech is vain! I merely turned me round again, Murmuring an inward paternoster, For hens that die in yonder cloister; And also I would say, A prayer for the eternal peace, Of many long departed geese, Which I, when in a state of sin, Stole from the Nuns who dwell therein." rimbtxrt said naught, and KcgiUXtti still Gazed on, until a rising hill /'/''. CANTO THE FOURTH. Conceal'd the prospect fair: But now once more the path they tread, Which to the Monarch's palace led; And while sly Uegnartr pondered o'er, The crimes he had to answer for, His brow grew dark with care. CANTO THE FOURTH. Full soon to all the court 'twas known, Kcgnartr approach'd the royal throne; And young and old went out to see The man of blood and treachery. Though guilt and fear oppress'd his heart, Full well he play'd his outward part; - Proud was his step, and bold his eye, As greeting all with courtesy, He strode along the crowded street, Towards the Monarch's judgment seat. So brave his port, that well I ween, If he the King's own son had been, With mind at rest and conscience free; With greater ease and dignity He could not have appear'd; Than when before the crowd he prest, And lowly kneeling with the rest, Claim'd humbly to be heard. II. u Great King ! " he cried, " whose boundless sway, The mightiest chiefs with awe obey; At thy command, I now appear, So deign mine artless tale to hear! I've ever been in good and ill, The faithfid servant of thy will; - And this my truth, in council proved, Hath my detractors' envy moved; And hence they seek with calumnies, With slanders vile, and groundless lies, To work my ruin in thine eyes, And bring me to disgrace: But still my comfort and my trust, Is that my King is wise and just; And that in mercy he will deign To hear me all the facts explain, Each in its proper place." in. "Silence vile knave!" the Monarch cried, "Nor think by flattery to avoid Thy well deserved fate: Here stands the Cock, whose children dear Were slain by thee; the case is clear Behold Sir ijinje's state! Ensnared by thy vile treachery, And wicked wiles, he lost an eye: - See fituno'si scalpless pate! And seeing this, canst thou pretend, That thou art still thy Monarch's friend? - Beware such senseless prate! But, by the rood! --to waste a word On such a varlet, is absurd: Thy cup of crime -is full at last, The time for penitence is past; And now at length, by cord or steel, Our royal vengeance thou shalt feel." IV. Rejoin'd the Fox: "Great King and Lord, Permit thine humblest slave a word! 22 REYNARD THE FOX Is it my fault then, that the Bear, In seeking honey, found a snare; Or when the peasants cudgell'd him, He who 's so strong and huge of limb, And could have well their blows repaid, Fled howling to the stream instead? - And if the Cat got blows and shame, Can it be said that I'm to blame That he would go at night to mouse, Or steal, within the Parson's house? But now I'm here at thy commands - My destiny is in thine hands; Thy will is law, thy power is great, And I resign me to my fate!" V. ell in the Ram at once arose, And headed tJcgnatlJ's numerous foes; ijtnje the Cat, and 3fctjrim, With injured fitlino, follow'd him; ficilfcrogn the Ass, Cainpe the Hare, The Ox, and Horse, and Goat were there, From distant forests came the Roe, The Hart and Hind, were there also; The Coney, Weasel too, and Beaver, Complain'd against the arch-deceiver; - 6rtl)0U the Stork, Cutkc the Crane, gentling the Cock, with all his train; And many others, great and small, ('Twere tedious to record them all) Came clamouring for redress. Never was seen on judgment day, So vast and various an array; While each a separate story told Of recent wrongs, or crimes of old, And brought his witnesses. VI. Ucjmatlr meanwhile, with wondrous skill, Denied each charge against him still; - Tried every shift and vain pretence To baffle truth and common sense, And shield his crimes with eloquence. His fluent tongue made wrong seem right, And evil good, and darkness light; One woidd have thought, to hear him plead, He was the injured man indeed; - But witnesses of good repute, Proved all the facts, beyond dispute, And soon the council all agree, To doom him to the fatal tree. - ttqmatft himself, at length despair'd, When he the awful verdict heard; And found that e'en his artful rede, Had fail'd to help him in his need. VII. The King now spoke the dreadful word, Which sentenced Ucjjnartr to the cord, And he was quickly seized and bound, By the grim foes that stood around. Meanwhile his friends, who would not see Their kinsman's shameful destiny, Hasten'd at once to leave the place Of ttejjniU'it's peril and disgrace; ittttCtin the Ape, and (ftntttburt too, Knelt to the King, and straight withdrew; And many other chiefs of fame, In sullen anger did the same. The King was vex'd when he beheld, So many nobles quit the field, And to his Queen did say: ' ttcgnarft no doubt deserves his fate, Yet many a pillar of the state, And many a chief of high degree, Will henceforth be mine enemy, For what hath past this day." VIII. Meantime, the whole of fiegttar&'s foes, Around the hapless culprit close, CANTO THE FOURTH. 23 And lead him to a neighbouring mead, Where a tall gibbet rear'd its head. Quoth ijinje unto 3ff0rim: "Let 's quickly make an end of him! Remember how thy brothers twain, Long since for mercy sued in vain; When brought unto the fatal tree, By UegnfttU's wiles and cruelty. - And thou Sir fitutto, canst not fail, To think upon the heavy tale, Of blows from cudgel and from flail; Which thou deceived by Ucimuttr's wile, Received from sturdy Uitftcfeit, Therefore make no delay: We have the caitiff in our power Let him within the present hour, For all his mischief pay." Cried 3fco,tim: "Be free from fear - Would that we had a halter here, And short should be his pain!" But here the Fox his silence broke, And thus to his tormentors spoke: "Have you no halter for the nonce? fjittje can find you one at once, One that can bear a strain! The same in which he lately swung, When he so loud at supper sung; - And in his eager quest for mice, Purchased them at the Parson's price." IX. But now, upon the fatal plain, The King and Queen, with all their train Of Lords and Ladies came: And following them a motley crowd, Whose exclamations long and loud; Proclaim'd their eagerness and glee, Poor UcnnarVs shameful death to see, His misery and shame. - The Wolf, who still fear'd Krgitarfc's art, a, Took on himself the hangman's part; While fjinje climb'd the tree in haste, To make the fatal halter fast, And Gntno brought a ladder near, To finish Gqmciti&'s vile career. The Fox who hoped, and not in vain, His Monarch's favour still to gain; Now mounted with a sigh profound, The lofty ladder's dizzy round, And in a voice both loud and clear, Address'd the crowd assembled there: " Good friends ," he cried, " mine hour is come, I yield me to mine awful doom; Yet ere I die, I would relate All my offences, small and great, That ne'er in future times, Innocent men may meet their fate, For my proceedings 'gainst the state, Or perish for my crimes." X. His feign'd contrition pleased the crowd, And straight arose a murmur loud; Entreating that the King would hear, And grant at once, the culprit's prayer. The King's consent was soon obtain'd, And Kcjjnacti saw his end was gain'd; - While all upon his accents hung, These words flow'd glibly from his tongue: "Now help me Spiritus Domini, Among the crowd below, I see Not one who's not been wrong'd by me. - My crimes began when as a child, I roam'd at large o'er wood and wild; - I bit a Kid and suck'd its blood, And lo! its taste was sweet and good; Four Lambs soon afterwards I slew, And as each day my boldness grew, I left nor beast, nor bird in peace; But warr'd on Coneys, Ducks, and Geese. 24 REYNARD THE FOX Nay, so much booty oft I found, That I interr'd it in the ground; For as my victims' blood was sweet, I slew far more than I could eat." XI. 'Twos in these early days of mine, While wandering on the banks of Khine, Within a gloomy forest's shade, Acquaintance with the Wolf I made; - Who claim'd my relative to be, And reckon'd kith and kin with me; So 'twas agreed, upon that day, Together we should seek our prey, And roam the land in company. We stole whatever we could get, And all was fish that came to net: - Fairly I play'd my part, but ne'er Did I receive my proper share; If we a Calf or Wether stole, He greedily devour'd the whole; - While if an Ox or Cow we caught, Forthwith his wife and cubs he brought, Who growling, drove me from the place, And ate my share before my face. With patience all these wrongs I bore, And lived upon my private store Of costly goods, for be it known, I've gold and jewels of my own; With other things more precious still, Seven waggons they at least would fill." XII. ttobet prick'd up his royal ears, And sudden interest appears To fill his kingly mind: "All hidden treasures are," quoth he, "Part of our rightful property; And therefore by thy future weal, We charge thee Kegntttti, to reveal, Where we the same may find." Eeplied the Fox: "My King and Lord! Believe a dying sinner's word; - Why, in this hour, should I refuse To give, what I no more can use? - Yet, ere I bid the world farewell An awful story I would tell: - The gold was stolen I freely own, But by that deed, I saved thy throne; For had its owner not been crost, Thy life and kingdom had been lost!" XIII. The Queen was seized with sudden fear, When this strange story met her ear, Anfl to the Fox she said: "Kegnarir I charge thee by thy faith, By thy soul's health, and coming death; Confess to us each secret thing, Which may concern our Lord the King Speak withont fear or dread!" The King commanded silence round, Bade that the culprit be unbound, And once more placed upon the ground, That he might tell his tale. With joyful heart, the Fox obey'd, His story was already made; - A cunning lie he well could weave, And when he practised to deceive, Was rarely known to fail. "Could I," thought he, "regain once more, The influence I possest before; Amply would I repay each foe, Who sought to work mine overthrow - And all mine enemies should find, How well I paid my debts in kind." XIV. "Now," quoth the Queen, "I pray relate, What is this plot against the state, - s CANTO THE FIFTH. What means this mystery? Nought but the truth I prithee say, Remember 'tis thy dying day; - That falsehood can but harm thy soul, So now at once confess the whole, And as a Christian die." Exclaim'd the Fox; "Ah, woe is me, And hard my fatal destiny! If to confess, I should refrain, I fear to suffer endless pain; While if I do, 'twill cost the lives Of my dear friends and relatives - What course to take I cannot tell, For ah, I fear the pains of hell!" XV. On Hobrl's brow a cloud appears, He pauses long, 'twixt doubts and fears: "Is this tale true?" at length he cries, And straight the crafty knave replies: - "My Liege! I am a sinful wight, Who oft hath warr'd against the right; Yet, ere my earthly course is run, I'd fain retrieve the evil done; - Thy word is past that I must die, What could I gain, if I should lie, But everlasting misery? - Let my last words thy credence gain, Nor my confession be in vain!" While thus he spoke, with cunning art, He play'd the contrite sinner's part, And all his soul, and every sense, Seem'd whelm'd in grief and penitence. XVI. The Queen was moved his woes to see, And urged the King to clemency: "O good my Lord!" she said, "Let my entreaties now prevail, And fiegnarfc live to tell his tale: Perchance the secrets he'll relate, May be of service to the state, And to its royal head." The Monarch grants his consort's will, And bids the noisy crowd be still; - While ficgnurfc cries: "Great Prince, give ear! For though no learned clerk is near, To write my words on parchment here, My tale shall be both brief and clear." CANTO THE FIFTH. Now listen to the cunning tale, Which fiennartr used his crimes to veil: Soft flow'd his words, in fluent tide, While he sans shame and conscience lied; - To gain belief, the crafty knave Traduced his father in the grave, Nay, even (Brimbari, who had sought To hide the mischiefs he had wrought, He blacken'd with foul treason's stain, The better credence to obtain; And scorn'd no means, however base, To bring his foemen to disgrace. n. "Know then, my Lord and King!" he said, "My father, who hath long been dead, Once in a cavern underground, 26 REYNARD THE FOX The good King Crittcrick's treasure found, A vast and boundless store ! He found it in an evil hour, For now his pride and lust of power, Grew daily, more and more: Forthwith he plotted 'gainst the state, And sought with loftier chiefs to mate, Than e'er he had before. Cjime the Cat, to this intent, He with a secret message sent To Arden's forest, dark and wide, In which the Bear did then reside, To offer him the crown; Bid him to Flanders straight repair, And promise him a welcome fair, From nobles of renown.'' III. "fintno the summons heard with glee, And off to Flanders hasten'd he, Where he my father found; Who straightway sent for Sfegriin And rimbart both, to come to him; - With them was fjinje too, the Cat, As they in secret council sat, When darkness reign'd around. 'Twixt Ifte, and the walls of Ghent, The traitors held their parliament; Which lasted a long winter's night, From evening's shades, till morning's light, And doubtless 'twas by Satan's aid, That they at length their compact made. Bribed by my father's treasure, they Agreed their lawful King to slay As future Monarch hail'd the Bear, Pledged him their faith and fealty there, And vow'd on Aachen's royal throne, Ere long, he should receive the crown. On the Wolf's head they deeply swore, Friendship and truth for evermore, And that if any loyal man Dared to oppose their treacherous plan; Or question'd flntlto's high command, He should be banish'd from the land." IV. "'Tis fit it should be now explain'd, How I by chance this secret gain'd: rimbitrt one day was drunk with wine, And told it to his ladye fine, But bade her silent be; Yet, as the fool might well have thought, Full soon a confidant she sought, And to my wife the story brought, Who swore to secrecy, Upon her honour and her fame, In every saint and martyr's name, Yet told the tale to me ; Nor fail'd to bring a token too, By which the story's truth I knew." V. "Now, when my wife had said her say, My head was fill'd with sore dismay, For I remember'd straight, - How once, as ancient records say, The Frogs did for a ruler pray; And with their clamours wearied heaven, A Monarch might to them be given, To regulate their state: - And God in anger heard their prayer, And sent the Stork, King 2ttrcbaer, Who swallow'd them by hundreds there; - Gave them no rest by night or day, But made his subjects still his prey; While they bemoan'd their hapless fate And love of change, alas! too late." VI. Sly Kegitarfc spoke both loud and clear, That all assembled there might hear, t/.&' afe CANTO THE FIFTH. 27 i And thus went on: "I dreaded sore, That such a fate might be in store For us, for well the Bear I knew, As greedy, fierce, and cruel too; - Unlike our present gracious Lord, Whose virtues will a theme afford, Till time shall be no more! I fear'd to see the Lion's sway, Which all with love and joy obey, Exchanged for the despotic rule Of a mere glutton and a fool, And deeply ponder'd o'er A plan to gain my father's gold, For which his friends their fealty sold; - And well I guess'd he'd seek in vain, Adherents to his plot to gam, When he'd no more the means to pay The tools of his vile treachery." "I therefore sought both night and day, To find out where the treasure lay; And ceaseless watch'd, with this intent, When'er my father came or went. - O'er field and forest, hill and dale, In rain or sunshine, snow or hail, I track'd him long without avail, Yet did my patience never fail; At length one happy day, From out a cave I saw him creep, Which 'twixt two rocks lay dark and deep: And mark'd him, as with jealous care, He hid the entrance to his lair, While I in ambush lay. I saw him, to conceal his trail, Sweep the earth's surface with his tail, And deftly with his mouth efface, From off the sand, his footsteps' trace; - A subtle trick, which well I ween, 1 till that moment, ne'er had seen." VIII. "To me, 'twas now as daylight clear, The long sought treasure - trove lay here; To work I went, a passage made, And soon my labour was repaid; Before me there, in heaps untold, Lay silver bright, and ruddy gold, - And ne'er the eldest here I trow, Hath seen so rich and fair a show. Full hard I work'd, for many a day, This precious store to bear away; And well my wife, Dame (Ermdeilt, Supported me in my design; - Sore was the labour and the pain, For we had neither cart nor wain; But still we labour'd on, till we Had placed it in security, Within a deep and secret den, Secure from every creature's ken." IX. "Meanwhile my sire, as well I knew, Consorted with the traitorous crew Of vile conspirators, who still, Against their Monarch plotted ill; And they agreed 'twould aid their ends, If 6nin0 wrote to all his friends, In every province of the land, That each should raise a hireling band Of sturdy knaves, who'd fight for pay, And come to him without delay; Promising all who brought him aid, Their guerdon should at once be paid. My father bore the letters round, And fair success his efforts crown'd; He saw each land I well opine, Between the banks of Elbe and Rhine, And soldiers found in all: Who promised readily to come To finmo's help, with trump and drum, 28 REYNARD THE FOX Whenever he might call. Meantime, my sire but little thought, That I, his darling wealth had sought And found, and took away ; And if the world were to be bought, At a doit's price, that he had not The means that price to pay." X. "His embassy at length complete, My sire return'd his friends to meet; And had full many a tale to tell, Of incidents by field and fell ; - And how he once on Saxon land, Hardly escaped a hunters' band, Which follow'd him with hound and horn, And chased him a whole winter's morn. And then, the list he did unfold, Of all the hirelings he'd enroll'd: Of the fierce race of Jlfcgciltt, Five hundred full, were sworn to him, While to set finmo on the throne, The Cats and Bears had all been won. Gluttons and Badgers, also he In Thuringia and Saxony, Had won to aid the plot; But all had this condition made, That one month's wages should be paid, Ere they from home set out. Sir 6nm0 heard the news with glee, And all rejoiced exceedingly: - Thank God, this treason to prevent, I was the humble instrument!" XI. "And now, my sire went forth to see The cave which form'd his treasury; But all in vain he gazed around, The more he sought, the less he found: His frantic rage may well be guess'd, But never sure, in words express'd 'Enough, that madden'd by the thought, That all his schemes had come to nought, In black despair and frenzy, he Hang'd himself on the nearest tree. Thus, did I save both King and state, Yet such is still mine adverse fate, That, while the trait'rous Wolf and Bear, The council's highest honours share; I, that my sire's existence gave, Our gracious Monarch's life to save, Am doom'd upon the gibbet high, With shame and infamy to die. XII. While thus the Fox belied his sire, Great was the King and Queen's desire, To gain the secret store of gold, Of which Hegntxrft so glibly told ; They therefore call'd the culprit near, That none but they his voice might hear, And ask'd: "Where doth this treasure lie?" fiegncirti replied: "Nay, why should I Give up to you my precious gains, Who will but hang me for my pains? - And still believe the calumnies Invented by mine enemies. - Rejoin'd the Queen: "That shall not be, The King at once will set thee free, Will all thy former faults forgive, Forget his rage, and let thee live, If thou upon the crown wilt swear Henceforth such actions to forbear." tlegnfttfo cried: "O my gracious Queen! - In all the world there ne'er hath been A King so rich, as I will make His Majesty, if for thy sake, His mercy he'll to me extend, And save me from a shameful end." ff 5 CANTO THE FIFTH. XIII. "Trust not his words!" King ftobd cries: "Nor heed his hateful perjuries, He speaks but to deceive! Only when he relates his shame, And deeds unmeet a noble's name, His speech thou mayst believe." "Not so, my Lord!" the Queen exclaim'd, " I trust that he is now reclaim'd ; Bethink thee, in his story, he Attacks his father's memory, And that his accusations tend To harm rimbact., his dearest friend; - Which he would surely never do, Unless 'twere from remorse and rue." - "Well," quoth the King, "I'll yield to thee, Pardon his crimes, and set him free, But solemnly I swear, If e'er again the peace he break, He dies the death; and for his sake, His race unto the tenth degree, From out the land shall banish'd be, So, let him well beware!" XIV. With joyful heart Sir Kcjjnarti saw That he'd again escaped the law, And to the King did say: "My Liege, it were a grave offence If I, in this august presence, Should dare to say a single word, Unless good proof I could afford, Upon an early day!" So ttobcl credited the tale, And let his consort's words prevail; Pardon'd Kcgnaril his treasons dire, And all the misdeeds of his sire. - Whilst he rejoiced, as well he might, At having foil'd his foemens' spite, And all their plans completely crost, E'en at the moment all seem'd lost. XV. His ardent thanks the Fox express'd, And then, the Monarch thus address'd: "May God reward the grace and ruth, With which thou'st heard me speak the truth; Nay more, in mercy deign'd to hear And grant, a hapless sinner's prayer; - Thy gracious consort also, I Am bound to for her clemency; And ere I from thy presence go, My humble gratitude I'll show, By telling to your Majesties, Where good King rmenck'$ treasure lies." XVI. "In Eastern Flanders, is a place Call'd Husterlo, a desert space, In which, scarce once within the year, A man or woman dare appear, But owls alone inhabit there. - Here springs a fountain from the ground, Call'd Krekelborn, which when you've found, Your search is well nigh o'er; Its banks two fair young birches shade, And 'neath their spreading arms is laid, King Crmmdl's golden store. - 'Twere well that you in person seek, The precious hoard of which I speak, And trust no messenger; - There hid 'neath moss, the crown you'll find, That once did (grmericK's temples bind, And would have crown'd the Bear, If he had hurl'd you from the throne - 'Tis crusted o'er with many a stone, Of value passing rare. And when your Majesties behold, The priceless stores of gems and gold, Of silver sheen, and coins untold, In spirit you will say: 'O Kegnatii, honest, brave and loyal, 30 REYNARD THE FOX Who from the traitor took the spoil, And hid it here, beneath the soil, - May God thy deed repay! - Let joy and honour still await This upright pillar of the state, Where'er his footsteps stray!"" XV11. Itobcl the King, at once replied: "Sir Kcjmarfc thou must be my guide, This secret place to find; Aachen and Liibeck, both are famed, Paris and Coin, are often named; But ne'er in all my life I trow, Have I heard tell of Husterlo, - Nor can I call to mind That ever, since my natal morn, I have heard ought of Krekelborn - I fear thou dost deceive!" Rcjoin'd the Fox, with brazen face: "My Lord! I send thee not to trace Thy weary, way to foreign strand, The place lies here in Flemish land; - Thy doubts I can relieve By asking any here around, Where these two places may be found! - Forthwith he call'd the Hare; Who came with looks of dread and woe, "Speak!" quoth tlcgnarfc, "what dost thou know Of Krekelborn and Husterlo? - Say on, thou need'st not fear!" Cried Campt: ,,In a waste they lie, Where once a friar, call'd Simottg, His false gold pieces made: Full well I know the spot, for I From hunger once was like to die; What time I there a refuge found, From cruel ftgtte, the savage hound - Thank heaven, that feud is stay'd!" - "Enough!" cried tJegmxrti, "thou canst go, The King has heard, what he would know!" Then lilobcl spoke once more: "IJfgnarJr., forget my hasty speech, But now at once set out, and teach The way to this thy store." XVIII. Quoth Kegnnrfe: "Gladly would I go With thee at once, the path to show; But ah! a deadly sin 'twould be, To take me in thy company, The cause with shame I tell! - It chanced, long since, that 3fcgrittt, Was seized with a repentant whim; So, entering a religious house, He shaved his head, and took the vows; But mark what next befel! Full soon his hasty step he rued, And clamour'd loud for extra food; - In vain the holy brethren gave Rations for six, yet more he'd have; And as he day by day grew thinner, I really pitied the po6r sinner, And help'd him one unhappy day, To scale the walls, and run away. For this, I'm now an outlaw'd man, Accurst, and 'neath the papal ban; - Therefore, if thou permitt'st me, I With morrow's dawning day will hie, To Rome, and absolution seek, As pilgrim humble, poor, and meek; That done, I mean to cross the sea To other shrines, nor till I'm free From sin, will I return to thee. Meanwhile, 'twould ill beseem my Lord, If countenance he should afford, Or own as servant of the state, One who is excommunicate." CANTO THE SIXTH. 31 XIX. "Well hast them right!" return'd the King, "It were indeed a wicked thing, Among my train to suffer one Beneath the pope's dread malison. ampe the Hare, to-morrow's morn, Shall guide my steps to Krekelborn, While thou shalt take thy way to Rome, And shrive thee at the holy tomb; God speed thee by the way! 111 were the deed, if we should dare To hold thee from thy purpose fair, But for a single day." CANTO THE SIXTH. The secret conference was done, KegnarU again had favour won; And now the King with solemn pace, Ascends a broad and lofty place, And bids the crowd be still; Commands that on the grassy earth, In order ranged, of rank and birth, They list his royal will. The Fox meanwhile, by all was seen In place of honour, near the Queen, While glancing o'er the subject crowd, ttobtl the King, thus spoke aloud: - II. ^Be silent all, that all may hear, Listen, both commoner and peer! - KcgnarlJ, who for offences high, You saw but lately doom'd to die, Hath since, such weighty secrets shown, Affecting both our life and throne, That we again extend our grace To him , and all his ancient race ; Nay, at our consort's fair request, Take him again unto our breast As friend, his lands and goods restore, And prize him higher than before. Therefore, we charge that none neglect To pay him every due respect, And that his wife and children be In honour held, and courtesy. Of former sins no more we'll hear, He is about the score to clear; For morrow's morn, at break of day, With scrip and staff he takes his way To Rome, and then will cross the main. Full absolution to obtain; Nor till he's freed, will come*again." III. As RejmartJ's foes King ttobcl heard, Terror and rage then- bosoms stirr'd, And ijtttJC cried in firitlto's ear: "By Heaven, I'll stay no longer here, Is Ucimatfo once again in grace, The court's for us no dwelling place: - One eye already I have lost, A longer stay may t'other cost!" "In truth thou'rt right," Sir fimno said, ' Good counsel breaketh no ; man's head ! ' "Not so," quoth furious 3fegrtm, "Let us again address the King!" And led Sir finttto forth, though loth, Before the throne, where straight they both I 32 REYNARD THE FOX Began a long and loud protest, Against the Monarch's new behest. "Have we not said," King ttobcl cried, "That we are now on fttgnatfr's side?" In wrath he spoke, and speaking sign'd Unto his guards, to seize and bind Them both upon the spot; For now he thought on Kcnncir&'s words, In former times, that both these lords Had join'd his father's plot. IV. Thus Regncirti by his cunning fables, Upon his foemen turn'd the tables; Nay more, he brought the thing so wide, That he a piece of Sruno's hide, (Which from his living back they strip) Received, to make his pilgrim's scrip. Nor yet content, the caitiff sues The Queen, to grant a pair of shoes, Hinting that those of 3fcgrim, In fact , are just the things for him ; And that his wife might also spare Without much loss? a hinder pair, As she but seldom wish'd to roam, - And housewives still are best at home. V. The Queen was pleased to hear his prayer, Granted his wish both then and there, And vow'd, if even they should die, Two pairs of shoes they should supply. Quoth he : " Of all the good I do, A part will still revert to you, 111 name my King's and Queen's good deeds With zeal, when 'er I tell my beads; A pilgrim's duty 'tis to pray For all who help him on his way, - May heaven your kindly deeds repay!" VI. So Sfegtim with pain and woe, Yielded his buskins to his foe; And tJegttdrtr saw with cruel glee, The Wolfs legs stripp'd below the knee. His hapless wife, his trouble shared, As both her hinder feet were bared; They lost at once, both claws and hide, That Uegnarti's wants might be supplied. So they, and eke the wretched Bear, Sat and bemoan'd their misery there; - While BcjlmtrJr without fear or shame, Derided all, but most the dame. "Well, Cousin ' imimtth ! " he cried, " I fear'd thy shoes would be too wide, But faith, I find they fit me well I hope they will prove durable! - If so or not, I'll keep them still, As tokens of my friend's good will; And what I bring of holy ware, Pardons and such like, thou shalt share, When I come back from Rome." Poor (Jicccmutl) could scarcely speak, Yet cried in accents faint and weak: " Heaven will no doubt our wrongs repay Upon thee, at the proper day, - Would God, that day were come!" The Wolf in silence bore his care, Nor answer made the wounded Bear; While ftcgnartr wish'd the Cat were there, Their misery and woe to share. VII. Early next morn, no time to lose, Sir Kegnarfc having oil'd the shoes, Which through his guile, the day before From his poor relatives were tore, Before the Monarch stood: - " Great Prince ! " he cried , " I'm ready now, For the fulfilment of my vow, .//./ '/' x^ s'hoJ for theProprn CANTO THE SIXTH. But if thou think'st it good; Let holy priest a blessing say, And thus dismiss me on my way In humble, pious, mood." King ftobcl heard the caitiff's prayer, And call'd fijlUtt, his chancellor, And private chaplain eke; Quoth he, " Sir Priest, ' tis our command, That ere Sir ficgnarft leaves the land, A blessing thou wouldst speak! Bind on his scrip, with holy sign, Hallow his staff with words divine, And give it to his hand." Eeplied the Ram: "My King and Lord! I dare not speak the holy word To one accurst and bann'd; For if my Bishop hears the tale, To punish me, he will not fail. 'Twere best to shun the whole affair; But if your Majesty will bear Me free, 'gainst Bishop 46 KEYNAED THE FOX And Campe's head which thou didst send, Will to thy condemnation tend; - And it can be that thou wilt pay Right dearly for thy jest that day." VIII. . "Not so," quoth Kejmarti, "not a hair! And he who through the world would fare At ease, can't keep himself so pure, As can a cloister'd monk, be sure. - mnpc seduced me too, I swear! His person look'd so plump and fair, As he kept springing here and there, That I fell into Satan's snare. - And OcUitt - - but thou well hast said, That no man can awake the dead, So let them rest in peace. Meanwhile, to speak of other things, We live in times when even kings, Princes, and prelates, to the rest, Afford examples most unblest, Which truly never cease." \ IX. Is there a man who doth not see, Our Monarch steals as well as we; While that which royal avarice spares, Is taken by the Wolves and Bears. Is there a priest who dares to raise His voice in these degenerate days, To speak the truth before the great, Or brand the vices of the state; - Not one, they rather share the spoil, Wrung from the humbler subject's toil. Should one complain, as well might he Tell to the wind his misery; For what a stronger hand hath ta'en, The weaker ever seeks in yain. Our Lord and King, the Lion hight, Still claims it as his royal right, To revel at his people's cost, And wins, whatever may be lost - Calls us his loving subjects still, And flays us at his royal will; And his we are, at least I wis, That what is ours, ere long is his." X. "Yet more, this our anointed King, Loves ever most, who most doth bring, And dances as he's pleased to sing, As daily may be seen: And now the Wolf and Bear again, Are foremost in the royal train, 111 fares the land, I ween. They rob and plunder as they will, And he believes their stories still; While all the others silent stand, And share whatever comes to hand, Such are the magnates of the land. - Should Ucjmarir but a pullet steal, The cry is gallows, cord, and wheel; And petty rogues must meet their fate, While greater villains rule the state. I own, that when these things I see, The example is not lost on me, And oft the selfsame way I take With others who their fortunes make; But conscience wakes and stings at times, And then I rue my many crimes; But faith! ere long it sleeps once more, And I'm no better than before. For little doth he gain at best, Whose life is purer than the rest; And in this age of calumny, The best are not from censure free. As for the crowd, they to a man, Will blame their betters where they can; - Good deeds are past unnoticed by, But bad ones blazon'd to the sky, CANTO THE EIGHTH. 47 From mouth to mouth each rumour flies, And truth is mingled oft with lies: Thus few deserve they should obey Just rulers, or a milder sway." XI. "The world is full of treachery, Of lies, deceit, and perjury; Of prophets false, and hypocrites, Of robbers , murderers and cheats ; Where two examples may be had, The many always choose the bad, And cry: 'Tis good for priests to teach; But let them practise ag they preach!' And thus like apes, they imitate The vices they profess to hate. The clergy it is true might give Better examples how to live; Nor shameless do as they're inclined, As if the laity were bund. In Lombardy, 'tis even said, An almost married life they lead, And rear their sons and daughters too, As openly as laymen do; For their advantage ply each art, And play throughout the fathers' part. They too, forgetting whence they spring, Yield place to none in anything; But take the foremost rank as free, As though they were of high degree. In former times, this priestly brood, In small respect or reckoning stood; Yet now they boldly take their stand, As lords and ladies in the land. But wealth can many wonders do, And now in every land we view, The clergy tolls and taxes raise, And own the mills and villages. The blind thus lead the blind to stray Still further from God's holy way; And good example, when 'tis found, Is seed that falls on stony ground.'' XII. " Yet hear me ! - - He who 'a basely born, No man on that account should scorn ; Discreetly let him bear his lot, And be his origin forgot; For no man 's good or bad by birth, 'Tis his own deeds must stamp his worth. An honest guardian of the fold, In honour and respect I hold; But a bad priest must ever be A curse to the community. Vain must his sermons ever prove, Nor can he e'er his hearers move, For still the laity will say: 'The pastor first should lead the way! He ever bids us give, to win God's grace, and pardon for our sin ; While he, our offerings at the shrine, Expends on costly food and wine, On women, or on raiment fine. - His mind is set on worldly things, What matters what he says or sings?' A virtuous priest will daily strive, To keep the Christian faith alive Among his flock, recall the stray, And lead them in the proper way; And by a good example given, Conduct them to the gates of heaven.'' XIII. " Some priests there are, who lurk around, Wherever wealth is to be found; Who beg on every pretence, And never fail in eloquence; These love with wealthy men to feast, And should but one be asked as guest, He brings another, who again, 48 REYNARD THE FOX Brings half a dozen in his train. In cloisters too, I grieve to say, Tis flattery bears each prize away; He who can talk, still rises higher, As custos, rector, guardian, prior, While better men are set aside: And then their greediness and pride ! - At meals, where all should justly share, Some feast the rest have lenten fare; - While some at nights must sing and pray, And watchful wear the hours away, The others never break their rest, And feast and banquet on the best. More might I say of the legates, The abbots, provosts, and prelates, Of beguines and nuns, also - Enough ! - - why need I further go ? - The cry of all in this sad time, Is: 'Give me yours and leave me mine!' And few, scarce seven, are to be found, Who by their orders' rules are bound: - Thus mens' respect doth fall away, From church and clergy every day." XIV. "Friend!" quoth rintbart, "I find it strange, That thou shouldst from thy subject range, O'er others' sins to make thy moan, When thou hast plenty of thine own. What are the clergy's faults to thee, Be they of high or low degree? - Let every man his burden bear, And strive to do his duty where His duty calls him - - this I trow, Beseemeth all men, high and low, The clergyman and layman too. Yet faith! the things that thou dost speak, Might almost make one heretic: Thou shouldst thyself confessor be, I and others, come to thee To learn thy wit, for thou art sage, And knowst the failings of the age; Hast keen and subtle intellect, Both to observe and to reflect; Which we might often find of use, For most of us, are but obtuse." XV. As thus with talk the way they cheer, At length the palace walls appear; But ere the royal halls they greet, fttattiti the Ape, they chance to meet; Who even then from court had come, And journey 'd on his way to Rome. With friendly words he greets the pair, Salutes his cousin fiegnartr fair, And cries: "Have courage gentle friend, When things are worst, they're sure to mend!" Then hi the way of social chat, Asked him of this and then of that. Quoth RcgnotD: "Fortune thwarts me still, And faith! at court my cause goes ill; Those thieves, the Coney and the Crow, Have raised some new complaints I trow; One 's lost his wife, as it appears, And t'other, one of his long ears ; Yet, if the King will hear my tale, Little their stories may avail. By far the heaviest stroke of fate Is, that I'm excommunicate, On 3fcQtim's account, whom I Help'd from his monastery to fly; Long have I rued the deed, for he Is now my greatest enemy. Should I betake myself to Rome, And leave my family at home, No doubt they'd suffer from his spite And rancour both by day and night; Besides I've other foes, who still Seek opportunities of ill; CANTO THE EIGHTH. 49 The provost too, who hath the thing In hand, is mighty with the King. Ah, were I freed from this affair, Lightly the others I could bear; At court with confidence appear, Nor doubt my character to clear." XVI. Replied the Ape: "To Rome I go, And there can aid thy cause I trow; As bishop's clerk, in faith and deed, I know the course that must succeed, And in the end am quite secure, Thine absolution to procure; - Nay, I will manage that thy foes, Their labour and their gold shall lose. My uncle Simon, there is high In station and in dignity, And he will ne'er refuse his aid, To those by whom his fees are paid. With Sdjalkcfunfc right well I stand, Doctor (grtiftu will lend a hand; And ofcfunfo hath influence rare, Which Uhn&cmnntcl too doth share: - All these I reckon mine, for I Have sent the gold their aid to buy. I know the manners of the place, He who hath gold, will still find grace; While he who's poor, will seek in vain, The slightest justice to obtain. - So have no fear because thou'rt bann'd, The matter I will take in hand,. And set thee free, thou hast my word, From all the penalties incurr'd." XVII. "To court thou now mayst boldly go, And there my wife Dame Giickcnau Can give thee aid, for well 1 ween, She 's loved by both the King and Queen. Good sense hath she, and wit at will, And loves to help her kinsmen still ; With her thou'lt find her sisters twain, Who '11 gladly aid thy cause to gain, As also will my children three And others of our family; - For when opposed to foemens' might, 'Tis not enough to have the right. Should all these fail, straight let me know, My secret power I then will show; The kingdom - - woman, child, and man, I'll place beneath the papal ban; So stern an interdict I'll lay, That priests shall neither sing nor pray, In churches bell nor organ sound, Nor dead men lie in holy ground, Child be baptized, nor bride be blest; So cousin set thy heart at rest!" XVIII. "The Pope is old and weak, and now His words are scarcely listen'd to; Cardinal / f/ft I i/'r///f J/Uartsf/' Jied forAe Proprietors ly CANTO THE TENTH. I sent thee jewels by the pair, Of priceless worth were they, and rare, As e'er on earth hath been; Which Ocllin doubtless set aside, And slew the Hare, his theft to hide, Was e'er such traitor seen!" Sly Kcgnarlr ceased his wail, but now Arose the wise Dame Uiickctmu, And said: "Are they above the ground, The jewels surely may be found! - Let strict inquiries be made, The clergy too may give their aid; So prithee now describe at large, What thou to fiellin gav'st in charge." Quoth Kcgnarlr. "Ah, I fear in vain Are hopes these jewels to regain ; - Who hath them, doubtlessly will try, To keep them in security! - How shall I meet Dame (grmclctn, Who disapproved of my design, Of sending by the Earn and Hare, Things of such value, and so rare. And now my foes complain of me! But when the King shall set me free, I'll wander forth from place to place, Till I have found the treasure's trace; And will regain it, though the strife, Should cost me wounds, or even life." CANTO THE TENTH. "Great King!" sly Kcgnarli thus began, "O deign to hear an injured man, And I'll describe the jewels rare I sent by fiellin and the Hare; And they alone must bear the blame, If thou hast not received the same." Quoth Itobcl: "Well, say forth thy say, But make thy story short I pray!" Resumed the Fox: "Fortune and fame Are gone, and blighted is my name; Yet now I'll tell what things of cost, By fielUn's treachery were lost." II. "The first bright jewel was a ring, Which I had destined for the King; Of purest gold the hoop was made, On which, with wondrous skill inlaid, Strange Hebrew characters were seen, Whose meaning few might read I ween, Or mystic sense declare; But Master ^brion of Trier, A Jew, whose learning all revere, Who hath made foreign tongues his own, And knows each plant and precious stone, I show'd this jewel rare. Quoth he: 'These letters are a spell, Brought forth, as ancient legends tell, By Sftf), from Paradise; When he the Oil of Mercy sought; With many a secret charm 'tis fraught, Known only to the wise. - Who wears this ring will never know Damage from frost, or fire, or foe; Nor pest nor plague, can do him harm, Nor lightning's bolt, nor witches' charm.' Upon the circlet's outer round, A glittering carbuncle was found; A wondrous stone, whose brilliant light, 8 REYNARD THE FOX Shone like a taper in the night, Making all things that near it lay Appear distinctly as by day. Its virtues, so the Master told, Were great, 'gainst poison, fire, and cold; Who bore this gem upon his hand, Might journey safe through every land; Through flames might pass, through water wade, And conquer foemen by its aid. The sick it instantly made whole, Nor fail'd its influence on the soul; Envy and hate it could allay, And rage and rancour turn away. Enough! this precious jewel I Took from my father's treasury; Yet ventured not myself to wear A gem so costly and so rare, Thinking a ring of so much worth, Should grace the noblest upon earth, So sent it to your Majesty, In whose wise breast all virtues lie, And whose paternal care we thank, For life and honours, wealth and rank." III. "Two precious things, as e'er were seen, I sent by ficlitn to the Queen: A comb and mirror, wondrous rare, Few others might with them compare; For shouldst thou search the world around, No better works of art were found. How often did my wife implore, That I might add them to her store! But I resolved that they should be A present to her Majesty; Whose royal breast all virtues grace, Which may adorn the highest place; And oft hath deign'd a word to speak, To cheer the humble and the meek. Noble is she, of lofty birth, Worthy the choicest gifts on earth; Which I alas! in evil hour, Trusted within a traitor's power." IV. "First of the comb! the artist's toil, Had formed it from the Panther's spoil; A noble beast, in India found, Near the lost Eden's holy bound; Its skin is bright with varied hues, Its breath, the air around imbues With rich perfume, the scented gale, All other beasts crowd to inhale; For by wise instinct taught, they feel, This perfume can all sickness heal. Of this beast's bone the comb was made, Richly with gold and gems inlaid; As new-fall'n snow, 'twas pure and white, Like silver, polish'd, clear and bright; While odours issued from the bone, Sweeter than cloves or cinnamon. For when the animal is slain, Its virtues still its bones retain; Hence their sweet scent, and hence have they, The power to drive disease away." V. " On the comb's back was graved with care, Full many an image fine and rare, Enamell'd round with cunning skill, In azure, sable, and vermeil. There might be seen the Phrygian boy, The beauteous JJaris, Prince of Troy; What time three tenants of the skies, Unveil'd before a mortal's eyes, And bade the astonish'd youth declare, Which might the palm of beauty bear. First 3nno spoke: 'Fair youth!' quoth she, 'If thou the prize wilt give to me, Boundless shall be thy wealth and store, . f. CANTO THE TENTH. 59 All that thine heart can wish, and more.' Cried $) aline: 'Is the apple mine, Might, power, dominion shall be thine; Thy name be dreaded through the land, And nations bow at thy command.' 'What is wealth, and what is power? 1 limits cried, 'attend to me, Mistress of the softer hour, And more blest thy lot shall be. What to thee is wealth or treasure? Thou art born a Monarch's son, Yield to me, the Queen of pleasure, And fair tjclcu is thine own.' So f)aris gave to her the prize, And own'd her fairest in his eyes; While she hi turn, did aid him to betray King iUniclnito, and tytltn bear away. These carvings were in high relief, And underneath was wrote in brief But curious wise, that all might see And understand the history." VI. "As for the mirror sooth to say, A fairer never saw the day; Instead of glass, a beryl fair Reflected all things, far or near; Nay, objects many a mile away, Were seen distinctly, night or day. Yet more, such was its wondrous power, That spots or wrinkles, from the hour In which they were reflected there, Would fade away, and disappear: No wonder I lament the day, That such a gem was stol'n away! The frame, that round the mirror stood, Was form'd of a most precious wood, Right Saijettt, dearer far than gold; From which, King firompurtres did mould A magic horse, of wondrous power, 'Twould bear its rider in an hour A hundred miles, I ween! The story I'll not tell at length; But such a horse for speed or strength; Hath never since been seen." VII. "The mirror's frame was broad and fair, Adorn'd with many a carving rare; Beneath, in characters of gold, Each pictured story's tale was told. The first was of the envious Steed, Who fain would match the Hart in speed; But failing, to a Man did cry: 'Friend! a fat Hart is hid hardby; Mount thou my back, and thou'lt be sure, A welcome booty to secure!' The Man consents, and now they take Then- way through bramble, bush, and brake; But soon the Horse begins to tire, No more he feels his former fire, And to the rider cries: 'Dismount my friend, we'll rest a space, And then again renew the chase!' But straight the Man applies His pointed spurs, and cries: 'Not so! I am thy master, thou must know; Go on, I say! or thou shall feel, The force of bridle, whip, and steel; At thy request I mounted thee, But to descend depends on me!' Thus was the Horse to thraldom brought, While he another's ruin sought: The moral all may see! Full oft the bolt by Envy sped, Returns on the assailant's head, In shame and misery." VIII. "Next, carved on the mirror's bound, Was seen the tale of Ass and Hound; 8* REYNARD THE FOX Both by a wealthy Man possest, By whom the latter was caress'd; Allow'd to share his house and bed, And daily from his table fed; With other favours, not a few, For which the Hound had nought to do, But fawn, and lick his master's hand, Or fetch and carry at command. All this, the Ass with envious eyes Perceived: 'What can it mean?' he cries, 'That still the master will prefer To me, that idle, useless cur. Within a day more work I do, Than he in all the year, I trow; Sacks must I bear, and burdens draw, Lie on the earth, and feed on straw, WhiTe he is fed on costly dishes, And revels in the loaves and fishes. The cause of this must doubtless be, He's favoured for his flattery; Yet, why should I not do the same, And thus my master's favour gain?' Anon, the master passes by, When straight the Ass, with hideous cry And uncouth gambols, on him flew, Just as the Hound was wont to do; - O'erthrows him in an instant's space, And braying licks his hands and face. The master roars in wrath and fright: 'Help, help! this beast is frantic quite!' Straight issuing at their patron's cry, The zealous grooms their cudgels ply; And while their blows unnumber'd fall, The Ass is driven to his stall. - The moral here methinks is plain, An Ass, must sti". an Ass remain; For place a fool above his station, To rule the state, or serve the nation, His folly in such lofty place, But tends the more to his disgrace; While they who envy others' gains Deserve the cudgel for their pains." IX. "Have patience still, great Potentate, While I another tale relate; Which on the mirror's frame was seen, In carved reliefs, and letters sheen. It show'd my Sire, what time he made League with the Cat, and was betray'd; For they a mutual oath had swore, Comrades to be for evermore; On high adventures take their way, And share the danger and the prey. Short space the compact held I ween, For soon a hunters' band was seen, Who with loud halloo, urged a pack Of furious hounds upon their track. Quoth fyittjt then, in anxious fear: 'Is there no place of refuge near?' Replied my Sire: 'Eemain with me, And thou a thousand wiles shalt see, Which in the end, I will engage Shall baffle all their spite and rage ! ' ' I have but one ! ' the Cat replies, And straightway to a tree he flies; Where he from every harm secure, Left his poor comrade to endure Alone the perils of the chase; - Nay, mock'd him from his lurking place. 'Cousin!' he cried, 'put forth thy speed; Of all thy wiles thou now hast need, For if thy wit should fail thee now, Thou'lt be in sorry case, I trow!' Fast fled my Sire, but faster still, O'er field and meadow, plain and hill, The fearful pack pursue: In vain he doubles on the track, On his own footsteps turns him back, Then springs aside, with desperate bound; Near, and more near, both horse and hound, as CANTO THE TENTH. 61 With every moment drew. His last resource but need I tell, What every hunter knows full well, A Fox will do at need? Enough! - - he now with lighter foot, Could foil his enemies' pursuit, And fly with greater speed. Thus, left by him he trusted most, My father's life was ah 1 but lost; And but by chance a hole he found, And so took refuge underground, Sad would have been his lot. Many such friends we find in life, Who fly in times of need or strife; As fjinje did, the sorry knave, Tis true, the crime I half forgave; But never have forgot." X. "Also upon the mirror's rim, Was carved a tale of 3fcgritn, How kindness was repaid by him. As once upon a certain day, Across a heath he took his way; And, as I scarcely need relate, Was in his usual hungry state, A Horse's skeleton he saw, And eagerly began to gnaw The bones, but fed with so much haste, That one stuck in his gullet fast. He sent for doctors, but in vain, Their efforts but increased his pain; Until one day he met the Crane, And promised him a handsome fee, If he would ease his misery. The proffer'd gains at length induce, ITiitkt, to put his bill to use, And trust his valued head within, The fearful jaws of Jfcjjrim. I The surgeon's part is now enacted, The venture made, the bone extracted, While the Wolf cries in rage and pain: 'Thou hurt'st me, do it not again!' ''Tis done!' the Crane exclaims in glee, 'And now, I'll thank you for my fee!' 'How,' cries the Wolf, 'what impudence! A fee indeed, on what pretence? Did I not suffer thee to draw, Thy head uninjured from my jaw ? If payment in the case must be, Methinks 'tis you should pay to me!' Thus, in the w r orld we every day, See men with evil, good repay." XI. These tales, and more which I could name, Were carved on the costly frame, While golden ornaments around, Fill'd up the mirror's ample bound. The workmanship was passing fair, Inlaid with pearls and jewels rare; Therefore I held it still to be, Too rich for one of my degree, So sent it to her Majesty In token of my love. Ah me! how grieved my children twain, Who wish'd the mirror to remain; It pleased them well, with arch grimace, And playfully distorted face, Its mimic powers to prove. Little I deem'd that jCampc's head, Would to the court be brought instead, Woe worth the luckless day! fitUtlt, I ever held to be An honest wight, and friend to me, Mine anguish who shall say! Perchance within this circle stands The wretch, who laid his guilty hands On Campt's life, but let him fear, His crime will one day be made clear, Conceal it as he may." 62 REYNARD THE FOX XII. "Well may I guess what cares weigh down The head that wears a royal crown, That weighty matters, day by day, Must lead thy memory astray; Else wouldst thou know how once my sire, Banish'd thy father's sickness dire. 'Tis true thou wast but three years old, 'Twas winter time, and bitter cold; The Monarch felt the season's power, His case grew worse each day and hour, And every leech 'twixt Rome and here, In haste was summon'd to appear. Among the rest my father came, Already he was known to fame; And on the mirror, carved well, Was seen the tale, which now I tell. He came, the patient's water saw, Felt thoughtfully the royal paw, And thus at length, laid down the law: 'My gracious Liege!' quoth he, 'Wouldst thou be freed from all thy pains, Only one course for thee remains; The liver of a Wolf to eat, Warm from the body, fresh, and sweet, That seven years old should be." XIII. "The Wolf, who happen'd to be near, Was little pleased this rede to hear; Sullen and silent there stood he, Dumb as a wooden effigy. 'Thou hear'st Sir Wolf,' observed thy sire, 'The article that I require! Nor can as loyal man refuse, To give thy liver for my use.' 'With joy, great Prince!' the Wolf replied, (His countenance his words belied), But all my days, if fairly told, Will make me scarcely five years old.' 'Nonsense!' my father cries, 'we'll see!' Bring but the liver here to me, And in a minute's space I shall Know if it be medicinal.' So to the kitchen he was ta'en, His liver brought, and not in vain, As many here can tell; Thy father ate with appetite, Past a most comfortable night, And in the morn was well." XIV. "For this great cure, my father still Was honour'd with the King's good will; And evermore, by royal decree, Was styled physician, and M. D., And stood upon the King's right hand, In scarlet cap and golden band, A wealthy, honour'd peer. But now his memory lost and gone, A different fate attends his son; Gone are the virtues which should grace, High station and a lofty place, Ne'er to return, I 'fear! Servants are now to masters grown, The poor 'neath their oppressions moan; Justice is meeted out and sold, All things may now be had for gold, And 'Give!' is still the cry: Such greedy knaves are never loyal, They seek but to enjoy the spoil; And like the Wolf, would scarce afford Their livers, though to save their Lord, But rather let him die. And yet it were small loss I ween, If twenty such should give Their livers, so our King and Queen, In health and joy might live; For never since the world hath stood, Hath evil seed produced good. CANTO THE TENTH. 1 All this no doubt, for many a day, Hath from thy memory past away; But on my mind 'tis stamp'd as well, As though it yesterday befel. This story too, with care emboss'd, Adorn'd with gold and gems of cost, Upon the mirror stood; To find it once again would I, With joy risk life and property, Yea, every earthly good." XV. "Btgnorli!" cried ftobel, "I have heard Thy speech at length, and mark'd each word. It may be, that in former days, Thy sire's good deeds procured him praise; But many a year since then hath flown, To me his person was unknown, And howsoever great his fame, In sooth, I never heard his name Till now, in all my life: - Would it were so with thine ! - - each day, Complainants come in long array, With tales of blood and strife. These may be but malicious lies, Old tales, and idle histories, Which hate and envy raise: Yet, would I fain one story hear, Which flattery's self could make appear, Conducive to thy praise." XVI. Rejoin'd the Fox: "Forgive great King, If to thy memory I bring A deed which thou wast pleased to own, A grateful service to the throne. Far be it from me to upbraid My Prince, with having claim'd mine aid, 'Tis but my duty, day and night, To serve him with mine utmost might; But thou must sure remember well The tale, which with thy leave I'll tell. It chanced, that Sfegrim and I, Had taken from a farmer's sty, A welL-fed swine, when thou earnest by; Spoke of thy need, and deign'd to say, Thou with thy Queen, wouldst share our prey. 3fegrtnt murmur'd in his beard, So that his answer scarce was heard; But I replied: 'Thy will is mine! Say, which of us shah 1 share the swine?' 'The Wolf!' saidst thou, and 3ftgrim Pleased that the task is left to him, Takes half unto himself; A quarter each he gives to thee And thy good Queen, and as for me, One half the lungs is all he spares, Except indeed the nose and ears; Thus dealt the sordid elf! Thy part, great Monarch, quickly went, Where all swines' quarters go; But he upon his meal intent, Mark'd not thine eager glances sent, Nor saw the frown of discontent, Upon thy royal brow. Sudden thy fearful paw was raised, It fell upon his pate; Bleeding, bewilder'd, and amazed, He saw his fault too late: Howling he fled, while thou didst shout: 'Take that! thou sordid, shameless lout, Must thy King fast, while thou hast meat? Hence, bring us quickly more to eat, Or dread our kindled wroth! And when again thou sharest the prey, Learn to respect thy Monarch's sway, Hence caitiff, hie the forth!'" XVII. "'My Lord and King!' I humbly said, 'Permit that I may lend mine aid!' 64 REYNARD THE FOX Thou wast content, and so to look For further spoil, our way we took; While Jfegrim bemoan'd his fate, His bleeding scalp and hapless state. Yet still I urged him to the chase, Ere long, we found our booty's trace, And caught a calf, thou found'st it good, Commanded me to share the food, And added many a word of praise, On my good speed and wily ways. 'My Lord!' I cried, 'one half is thine; - The other half, as I opine, Goes to the Queen each inward part, The lungs, the liver, and the heart, Thy royal sons may claim; - The head, a morsel fat and sweet, Is the Wolfs share, and mine the feet, Thus I divide the game!'" XVIII. "Thou wast well pleased my Lord, and cried: 'Who taught thee Kegnartr, to divide The spoil, in such a courteous way? Tell me at once his name I pray.' - 'He 's not far off my Lord,' I said, 'My friend here with the bleeding head, By his example' taught me straight, To share the game, yet scape his fate.' Thus did the Wolf receive the meed Due to his selfishness, and greed; And if thou deign'st to look around, Many such caitiffs may be found, Who seek for plunder, night and day, Taking thy vassals for their prey; Devour alike both friend and foe, Nor ruth nor mercy ever know: - Woe to the city or the land, which wolves gain the upper hand!" XIX. "Such services, my gracious Lord, It oft hath joy'd me to afford, For all I have, hath ever been, At service of my King and Queen. This story of the calf and swine, May show the Wolf's deserts and mine; Yet now he holds a high command, As thy vicegerent in the land; With firuno, ever hath the word, While I and others, scarce are heard. 'Tis true my foenien, in thine eyes, Have soil'd my name with calumnies; But thus I answer: Is there here, One who will openly appear, To charge me with a crime; And pledge his property or life, Against mine own, in open strife; Here stand I, ready for the fray, Either upon the present day, Or on a future time!" XX. Then spoke the King: "Howe'er that be, The course of justice I leave free, As I have ever done! - Truly, it is suspected still, Thou didst the hapless Caittpc kill, Whom much I loved, and whose sad fate, Hath grieved me more than I can state, Yet what avails my moan? - Thy service done in former days, I now recal with thanks and praise; And for its sake, forgive thy crimes Against our state, in later times, - Pardon and set thee free. Still, if there should be any here, Who would complain, let them appear, Bring witnesses to back their cause, And if the Fox hath broke the laws, He pays the penalty!" CANTO THE TENTH. 65 XXI. Quoth Rcgnarfc: "I cannot express Mine innate joy and thankfulness; But 'twas with heavy heart, I swear! I parted from the Ram and Hare; As if I felt, that luckless day, Evil would happen by the way; And still to say farewell was loth, For fervently I loved them both." Thus ttejmatfc by his falsehoods vile, Again the Monarch did beguile, The court was silenced or deceived, And all his stories were believed. Longing to see the things of cost, Which Rcgnarfc swore the Ram had lost, King ftobcl cried: "Leave grief and pain, And seek the jewels to regain; Go and inquire both near and far, And shouldst thou find out where they are, And need our power to gain thy right, Rely upon our royal might." XXII. Cried Rcjmatd : "Mighty King and Lord, Thy gracious words new hopes afford! Thy duty 'tis to give redress, And theft and murder to suppress, Which have been practised on the Hare; But let the culprits have a care, For I will journey night and day, Nor spare inquiries by the way, To find out where the treasures lay! The place once found, if I'm too weak, Without delay thine aid I'll seek To gain them, and the task complete, Will lay them at thy royal feet." - This pleased the King, who now in spite Of reason, own'd sly Rcgnarlr right; His lies had such an air of truth, That all men were deceived in sooth; And he, thanks to his cunning art, Had gain'd permission to depart. XXIII. But Sfegnttt now strove in vain Longer his fury to restrain, And cried : " Great Monarch ! can it be Thou sett'st this knave at liberty, Who triply hath thy grace abused, Thy subjects murder'd and misused; And now upon a false pretence, Hath won again thy confidence? No, by my fay! he scapes not so; As flagrant traitor thou shalt know This lying knave, whom I defy In open fight the cause to try. A three -fold charge, I now will bring Against this caitiff, mighty King! And though 'tis said, who would accuse, Must faithful witnesses produce; Yet would that aid the case I pray? Though they should speak the live -long day, He'd throw some doubt on what they say! And who can still a witness call, To everything that may befal? The knave shall not depart, till he Has answer'd for his crimes, to me!" 66 REYNARD THE FOX CANTO THE ELEVENTH. Now 3fe0rim began anew, And said: "O King, wouldst thou review The life of fifgnarir, thou wouldst see, 'Tis one long course of treachery; He ever was a knave, tis plain, Is so, and still will so remain! E'en now he dared with shameless face, To libel me and all my race; And he hath ever been to me, A base and cruel enemy." II. "Wrongs hath he done me by the score, My wife hath even suffered more; For once upon a winter's day, As through a marsh they took their way, He said he'd teach her how to fish, And take as much as she could wish. Charm'd by his words, the silly fool Went with him to a freezing pool; And there the shameless villain taught her, To seat herself beside the water; Assuring her, fish would not fail, To hang in dozens to her tail. The frost was keen, and in a trice, Her tail was frozen to the ice; What then he did, I dare not say, But he shall surely rue that day, And for that deed his life shall pay." III. "In vain the knave with crafty lies And sophistries, his crime denies; I heard my consort's piteous cries, 1 saw the deed with mine own eyes, And wept for rage and shame: 'ftegnarlr!' I cried, 'what dost thou there?' But, when he saw me drawing near, He fled and left the dame. Through ice-cold water I must wade, With mournful heart, to give her aid; And though in truth I did my best, My efforts were not wholly blest, Nor could I set her free, Without the loss of half her tail; Which she with loud and hideous wail, Left clinging to the ice her cries Aroused a host of enemies, To mock her misery. For quickly swarming o'er the dike, Arm'd to the teeth with axe and pike, A crowd of peasants came : Nay, women flourished distaves high; Urging the chase with furious cry Of vengeance, on our track they scour'd, And swore their sheep we had devour'd ; - Our anguish who can name! One hardy wight led the pursuit, Strong was the knave, and light a foot; Well could he wield his pointed spear, And oft he struck us in the rear, Our bodies reeked with sweat! Driven from the land on either side, Our only chance was now to hide Among the reeds that fringed the shore, Until the boors at length gave o'er The chase, as daylight set. Thus gracious Monarch, thou mayst see, Of murder, rape, and treachery, CANTO THE ELEVENTH. I now accuse the knave; I leave the matter in thy hands, To give me, as the case demands, The justice that I crave ! " IV. Keplied King ftobel: "I have heard At length the charge thou hast preferr'd; And now, as meet on judgment day, Will hear what Urimari) has to say." Exclaim'd the Fox: "Were this the truth, 'Twould touch mine honour sore, in sooth; But God forbid that I should be Guilty of such enormity! 'Tis true that at her earnest wish, I taught Dame iereittunii to fish, And show'd the means that she should take, To try her fortune in the lake; But in her eagerness for prey, She did not take the proper way. Fish she had taken without fail, Had she in time withdrawn her tail; That it was frozen was the meed, Due to her avarice and greed: 'Who would have all, must all forego!' A well-known proverb is I trow, And she its truth found to her cost, When in the ice her tail she lost." V. "Yet when 1 saw her piteous case, Forthwith I hasten'd to the place, And used all efforts that could be Of any use, to set her free. While thus engaged, the Wolf drew nigh, His heart inflamed with jealousy; And used such words as 'twere unmeet In this high presence to repeat; Threaten'd to tear me limb from limb, So that I stood in fear of him, And thought it best to run away, And scape his rage and blasphemy. Why should I stay to be abused? 'Twas plain his senses were confused, And in his enmity to me, He'd fancied what he did not see: Ask tercmitntr, she stands before ye, To give her version of the story ! Soon as he mark'd his wife's sad case, He strove to help her from the place; Cursing the while in furious mood, As in the freezing lake he stood. As for the chase, which next occurr'd, If we may trust the caitiff's word; 'Tis plain it happen'd for their good, And served to circulate their blood, No more they felt the cold! More need I say? yet he's to blame, Thus to attack his wife's fair fame, And heap dishonour on her name: My story I have told! Now from thy royal grace I seek, The formal respite of a week, Council I fain would take; If it be fit that I should deign, Unto a charge so false and vain, Further reply to make." VI. Now icremunfr took up the word, And said: "Thine actions still afford, Examples of the base and vile, Of falsehood, treachery, and guile; And all who to thy words attend, Are surely cheated in the end: This to my cost, long since I found, When in the well I nearly drown'd. There, to a windlass neatly hung, Within the depth, two buckets swung; But how thou earnest in the well, 68 REYNARD THE FOX In sooth, is more than I can tell. I found thee there it was by nigHt, Lamenting loud thy piteous plight, And ask'd what ail'd thee in reply, Thou told'st me a most shameful lie; Cried: 'Aunt, come here if thou wouldst wish, To make a hearty meal of fish; For me, I am so full that I Am of repletion like to die! Step in the pail which there you see, And quickly thou'lt be here with me.' In evil hour thy voice I heard, And simply trusted in thy word; Sprang in the pail, and went below, And wondering saw thee upwards go. 'How's this?' in wild amaze I cried, And loudly laughing you replied: 'Thus Fortune's wheel goes round! 'Tis the world's way, as thou must know, One rises by another's woe; And thus a service to repay, Is common at the present day, As 1 full oft have found!' With this remark, thou went'st thy way, While I remain'd the live -long day, In darkness, cold, and fear: The peasants too became aware By some strange means, that I was there, And now their cries I hear. Quoth one: 'The villain sits below, That long hath been our greatest foe; Whose wont it is by night and day, Our choicest lambs to bear away; How shall we treat the knave?' 'Bring him aloft, and we will try A fitting greeting to supply!' Replies another slave. Aloft I came, and God might see With pity, how they greeted me; Blow upon blow, I had to bear, And ne'er in all my life, I swear, Did I such dangers brave." VII. Rejoin'd the Fox: '"Twas for thy good! One of us, be it understood, The thwacks must take, which I could spare, And thou art better built to bear. In foresight, I was but thy tutor, And taught thee caution for the future; For by this lesson, thou mayst see, The world is full of treachery." "Right!" cries the Wolf, "that this is true, In UrmunVs actions we may view; And now another tale I'll tell, Of mischief that through him befel; How once in Saxony, the knave Sent me into a hideous cave, Knowing full well, my hap would be, To meet an evil destiny. Apes, dwelt within the horrid place, His aunt was mother of the race; And but in haste I took to flight, An ear I should have lost that night! It grieved him more than he would say, That luckily I got away; 'Twas wicked spite and malice fell, To send me to that earthly hell." VIII. Cried Kegnartr., with a bow profound, To all the courtiers standing round: "Now good my lords, it really seems That 3fegrim is mad; or dreams! Three years ago, it now may be, That he set forth to Saxony; And I went too, to swell his state, For at that time his power was great, So far the tale is true! But 'twas a Monkey, not an Ape, t4W0m& "'/ < " W'' PublisKed fortheProprietorsljy AH.Fayn.e, Dresden &Leip 7, i CANTO THE ELEVENTH. G9 From whose vile den he did escape; And he but says to slander me, That she was of my family, Which one day he shall rue! My aunt, as all the world doth know, Is gentle Lady ttiiduttait; - Her husband ttarttlt, takes high place, Among the chieftains of my race; A wise and learned Ape is he, And eke a bishop's notary. But Monkeys, be they bad or good, Were ever strangers to my blood, They look like imps of hell! I call'd her aunt, 'tis very true; But I'd a certain end in view, And faith, it answer'd well! My maxim is, and still will be, Ever to use civility; - Though she may hang or drown, for me! But now the tale I'll tell." - K. "My Liege, it chanced upon that day, We sought to take a nearer way, And lost the path the night came on, And found us in a vale alone, No living thing was near; 3fcgrim was as usual, ill From hunger -- feed him how you will, For more, and more, he's craving. still; In vain we sought for cheer. At length a gloomy cave we spy, Narrow and deep: 'Good friend!' quoth I, ' Some one 'tis certain dwells within, Suppose we boldly venture in, Ann ask them for relief?' He cried: 'Do thou the adventure try, Thy coming I'll await hardby, For thou hast more dexterity, More wit, and fluent words than I; But let thy stay be brief!' So I betook me to the cave, 'Twas dark and narrow as a grave; Nor could a heavy sum repay, The fear I felt upon the way." X. "At length, within the vault I stood, And saw a wild and hideous brood Of creatures , which 'twas plain to me, Must form a Monkey family. Upon a couch the mother lay, Composed of rotten straw or hay; And such an odour fill'd the hole, As sicken'd me unto the soul. The beast was large, and grim to see, Black was her hide, as black could be; Long were her teeth, and wide her jaws, On hands and feet she'd fearful claws; A lengthen'd tail hung down behind, And you might search in va^n to find, A more unpleasing dame. Her cubs look'd fierce, and strong of limb, Some were as large as Jfegtim; - Filth smear'd their swarthy hides and faces, Rude were their gestures and grimaces; I felt I'd been to blame In coming there, and sooth to say, Wish'd them a thousand miles away, Yet greeted frank and free: The imps, as cousins dear I hail'd, The hag as aunt, and never fail'd, In words of courtesy." XI. "'God bless all here,' I cried, 'and give You many happy years to live! Are these thy children? Nay, I trace In every form, the mother's grace, And joy to see our ancient race REYNARD THE FOX I Increase and multiply! In truth, a fairer family Than thine, I never wish to see; And every pretty prattling thing, Might be the offspring of a king.' Of course, I did but lie ! Yet fair words seldom miss their aim, And she at once allow'd my claim, To near relationship; Call'd me her nephew, bade me stay And dine, in a friendly way; And though I long'd to slip Away unseen, and breathe the air, For it was far from pleasant there, Perforce, I must remain. Quoth she: 'It joys my heart to find, Thou bear'st thy relatives in mind; For thou art wise, and skill'd to teach The means a higher sphere to reach:' With more, in the same strain. Meanwhile, the dame produced her store, Both game and fish were there, with more Good things than I can name: I ate my fill, and would begone, When she a piece of venison Pack'd up, for me to take away, Chided the shortness of my stay With words of gentle blame; And begg'd whene'er I came that road, That I would visit her abode: - Of course, I said 'amen ! ' - Took courteous leave, and came away, Glad to regain the light of day, And scape that frightful den." XII. "Without the cave, upon the ground, In piteous case the Wolf I found, What cheer, good friend?' quoth I: Cried he: 'I am in rueful plight, And never shall outlive the night For want of food I die!' I gave him what I'd brought away, Which he devour'd, and then did say : 'Tell me good Ktgnarfc, now I pray, Who dwells in yonder cave? Say, was thy treatment good or bad Is there more booty to be had Should I the adventure brave?' Quoth I: 'It is a filthy neat, But well provisional with the best; And if thou fain wouldst gain a share, To speak the naked truth forbear: For he who still the truth will say, Will find life's path a thorny way, Seldom will be a welcome guest, And oft will fast, while others feast.' I taught him thus, his part to play; But if he chose another way, And came thereby to blows and shame, He only has himself to blame. Such clumsy blockheads ne'er will learn, Wisdom and courtesy they spurn, And so it was with him: For as I begg'd the truth he'd spare, He answer'd: 'Friend, I am aware How it beseems me to behave ! ' And so at once, into the cave, Went Master Jftgtim." XIII. "When to the inner den he came, He there espied the Monkey dame, With all her ugly cubs about, And taken by surprize, call'd out: 'Good Lord, were e'er such monsters seen! Never hath eye beheld, I ween, Creatures so frightful and so fell; A devil's brood, let loose from hell ! In mercy to the world, I pray, t <7 <7 - ' S CANTO THE ELEVENTH. 71 Ne'er let the wretches see the day; To drown them were a goodly deed, Lest they should propagate the breed!' The mother now broke forth, in wrath: 'What devil bade thee cross our path? Who art thou, and what brought thee here? We never sent for thee, 'tis clear! What is't, in Satan's name, to thee, If fair or foul, my children be? Another guest was here but now, Who told a different tale, I trow! Kcgnarft the Fox, and he is wise, Pronounced my children prodigies; In person fair, in manners good, And gladly own'd them of his blood; And if they seem not so to thee, Go forth, thou'lt find the passage free.'" XIV. "'Give me to eat!' was now his cry, 'Thy curses will not satisfy My hungry maw; be quick I say! Or I may chance to find the way, To where thy larder lies!' He reckon'd here without his host, As he found quickly to his cost. For as he would have seized the store, The Monkey with an angry roar, Upon the caitiff flies: Gives him to feel her teeth and claws, While all the cubs make common cause, And bite and scratch with such fell spite, That he betook himself to flight; Thought not upon his own defence, But only how to hie him hence, Howling with pain he fled. From out the cave I saw him bound, His hide in tatters hung around, The blood ran o'er his head; One ear was split, on back and side, Full many a wound was gaping wide, A ghastly sight to see! I saw his evil case with ruth, And cried: 'What, didst thou speak the truth?' 'Of course I did!' quoth he; 'My maxim 'tis, to speak my mind, However I may matters find ; The hag within there, took this evil, And set upon me h'ke a devil, 111 fared I in the den! But tell me, didst thou ever see, A more ill-favour'd family; Ugly and vile to a degree, Beyond all mortal ken?" : XV. "'Thou'rt surely mad, my friend!' I cried, 'I told thee thou the truth must hide, Dear aunt (thou shouldst have said) ; I greet thee fair ! - - my heart it joys To see these lovely girls and boys ; It pleases me in sooth, to trace The features of our ancient race On each young cherub's head!' 'What?' cried the Wolf, 'dost thou opine I'd own that hag as aunt of mine, Or grant that cursed pack to be Related to my family? - The devil take them all!' Thus mighty King, thou seest that he Owed to his own stupidity, The ills which did befal: - Ask him my Liege --he stands hardby, If I have told a single lie, In this my simple history." XVI. The Wolf replied: "In words, I trow, Our strife an end will never know; KEYNARD THE FOX But here I stand, prepared to take The combat, for mine honour's sake. Much hast thou vaunted of the food, Thou brought'st me from the Monkey brood; A naked, well gnaw'd bone, I swear, Was all the aid thou gavest me there. With lies, thou hast assail'd my fame, And robb'd my wife of her good name; My children too, with hellish spite And cruelty, deprived of sight; And falsely given out that I Conspired against his Majesty. In open court, I charge thee here, As liar, thief, and murderer; And now in fair and open strife, Will prove these charges, life for life. My glove I proffer now to thee, As gage of open enmity, And call the King, and every peer, As witnesses, my words to hear; - For as I hope to live and thrive, Thou shalt not leave this place alive." XVII. Thought fiegtuxrir. "Faith! to fight is more Than I at heart had bargain'd for; For I am small, and he is large, And if in fight he proves his charge, My wit will scarce sufficient be, To save me from the fatal tree. - I've one advantage I must own, His claws can scarcely yet have grown, Which with his shoes, the other day, I from his foremost feet did flay!" So boldly he replied: "Sir .ifiegrim, thou art a knave, A traitor, and a felon slave; And in the charge thou bring'st 'gainst me, Of murder, theft, and treachery, Thou in thy throat hast lied! Poor fool! the fight thou hast required, I long have earnestly desired; I fear thee not! here is my gage, In equal lists, the war to wage, On the appointed day." The Monarch took the glove from him, As also that of 3fegriin, And said: "You now have to provide Two sureties, on either side, The combat duly to abide: - Who shall a judgment say ? Where charge and counter -charge appear, But to embarrass those who hear, And not a whit the case to clear." The Bear and Cat now proffer'd bail, Their friend and champion should not fail On the next morn to fight: On ffiqmatft's part, Sir rimbart came, And itturtttt's son, well known to fame, The Ape, ittonekc hight. XVIII. And now Dame Kitckenau drew near, With council fit for Uegnar&'s ear: " Nephew," quoth she, " be of good cheer, For I can give thee aid! Thine uncle taught to me a charm, Of power to save from every harm; Abbot Sdjludjauf first made the spell, A man who loved my husband well, And thus the prelate said : 'This prayer is good for those who go To battle, or to meet a foe; For fasting read, throughout the day Danger and want 'twill turn away, Nor wounded canst thou be!' This charm with morrow's dawn I'll read, So have no fear thou must succeed, And win the victory." "Thanks, gracious aunt!" the Fox replied, <7 :-oprifitora"bv - en & Leipzig. CANTO THE ELEVENTH. 73 By all means let thy charm be tried; But my good conscience and my right, Are the best helpers in the fight, Whate'er the rest may be." XIX. Sir Rcjmarfc's friends remain'd awhile, The tedious hours to beguile, And sought to pass the time away With gay discourse and minstrelsy. Meanwhile, Dame Kitcfcenait with care, Shear'd off the whole of Kegnar&'s hair; Except that on the tail, which he Had uses for, as we shall see. That better he his foe might foil, She smear'd him o'er with fat and oil; And now with joy his kinsmen found, That plump, and round, and sleek was he; Active withal, and light a foot, Either for flight or for pursuit. Then spoke the dame: "Now list to me, And thou shalt quell thine enemy; Drink plentifully over -night, For that will aid thee in the fight, ************ ************ ************ Fly from him still, against the wind, And raise the dust, to make him blind; Mark when he stops to clear his eyes, Then turn, and take him by surprize: Repeat this process constantly, And thou wilt win the victory. And now fair nephew, to thy bower, I'll wake thee at the proper hour; But first, to thee I will rehearse, The holy abbot's mystic verse." Straightway before her he knelt down, She laid her hands upon his crown, And said: "@au&a. flta^t. falpljento. Casbu. gorfons. as. bulfria. The wondrous charm is said!" timbdtt repeats the mystic strain, And then the rest of ficgttartr's train, Conduct him to his bed. XX. In soft repose he past the night, And with the morning's dawning light, His relatives appear'd; They made him straight for battle dight, And his impatience for the fight, With loving words they cheer'd. The Otter brought a duckling sweet, And cried: "Fall to my friend and eat! Full many a bound I had to make, At Hiihnerbrot, upon the lake, Ere I the costly prize could take." "Thanks friend!" the Fox replied; "'Tis a good omen for the day, That thou so soon hast taken prey; May God thy kindly deed repay, And still be on thy side!" So Kejjnatfc ate and drank with glee, And then with all his company, Went forth upon the plain: Enter'd the lists in gallant state, His foeman's coming to await, And view the hostile train. 10 74 REYNARD THE FOX CANTO THE TWELFTH. When Kfgnurft in the lists appear'd, From head to foot with oil besmear'd, And shorn unto the very hide, Loudly King tlobcl laugh'd, and cried: "O Fox, who taught thee that? -- I swear, In vain thy name thou dost not bear! For thou hast wit and cunning rare, And know'st thyself to aid." Sir tu'nnavti answer'd not, but he Before the throne, bow'd gracefully; And as for gallant knight, 'twas meet, Before the royal consort's seat, A lowly reverence made. But now upon the battle plain, Sir 3fc" v " ' ;^%vvuwv^ &^*w^*^Mv ' ,^ wy ^ ^:s-^-r ,VXVVVV VV Vj^, ^vWWWgVv^^- ' -wwgOyVwyi - , ; :::; ;vr. ^ ,, w - - , ',y ,ao-. u ,. /w>. jv ; y , v, 3*$&! 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