200 REYNARD THE FOX CHAP. XXII

heaviness, having a world of labour ere I could
break the ice about her; and in spite of all my
cunning, yet she was compelled to leave a piece
of her tail behind her: and indeed we both
hardly escaped with our lives. For by reason
of the great anguish she endured, she barked
so loud, that the people of the next village
rose up, and came with staves and bills, with
flails and pitchforks, and the wives with their
distaves, and so fiercely assaulted us, crying
Kill, kill, and Slay, slay, that I was never in
so desperate a taking. One slave amongst the
rest, which was strong and swift of foot, hurt
us sore with a pikestaff; and had not the
night befriended us,-we had never escaped the
danger. From hence we came into a field full
of brooms and brambles, where we hid us from
the fury of our enemies.

‘Thus, my gracious Lord, you have heard
how this traitor and murderer hath used us,
and against the same we crave the right of
your law and justice.’

But Reynard answered and said, ‘If this
were true, I confess it would touch me near in
honour and reputation; but it is not possible
that such a slander should be proved against
me: I confess I taught her to catch fish, and