sage which had cost him his life,
torn off one of the rabbit's ears, and eaten the crow's wife. Lastly, he
confessed how he had gone out in company with the wolf, who, being hungry
and seeing a mare with a little foal, had bidden Reynard inquire at what
price she would sell it. The mare retorted that the price was written on
her hoof. The sly fox, understanding her meaning, yet longing to get his
companion into trouble, pretended not to know how to read, and sent the
wolf to ascertain the price. The result was, of course, disastrous, for the
mare kicked so hard that the wolf lay almost dead for several hours after.

"So he went and asked the lady, 'What price is the filly?
Make it cheap.' Whereupon she replied, 'You've only to read it;
There you will find the sum inscribed on one of my hind feet.'
'Let me look,' continued the wolf; and she answered, 'With
pleasure.'

"Then she lifted upwards her foot from the grass; it was studded
With six nails. She struck straight out, and not by a hair's
breadth
Missed she her mark. She struck on his head, and straightway he
fell down,
Lying as dumb as the dead."

Waxing more and more eloquent as they drew nearer court and his fears
increased, Reynard began to moralize. He excused himself for Lampe's murder
on the plea of the latter's aggravating behavior, said that the king
himself was nothing but a robber living by rapine, and proceeded to show
how even the priests were guilty of manifold sins, which he enumerated with
much gusto.

They had scarcely finished this edifying conversation when they came across
Martin the ape, on his way to Rome; and Reynard hastened to implore him to
secure his release from the Pope's ban, through the intercession of the
ape's uncle, the cardinal, whose interest it was to serve him. Martin the
ape not only promised his good offices at the papal court, but bade Reynard
not hesitate to consult his wife should he find himself in any predicament
at court.

[Sidenote: Reynard at court.] Thus supported, Reynard again made his
appearance at court, to the utter amazement and surprise of all; and
although, he was well aware that his situation was more dangerous than
ever, his assurance did not seem at all impaired. Kneeling with pretended
humility before the king, he artfully began his address by lamenting the
fact that there were so many unscrupulous people ever ready to accuse the
innocent; and