nsellors, to consult how this foul murder of Reynard's
might be punished. And in the end, it was concluded that
Reynard should be sent for, and without all excuse, he
should be commanded to appear before the King, to answer
whatever trespasses should be objected against him; and that
this message should be delivered by Bruin the Bear.

To all this the King gave consent, and calling the bear
before him, he said, "Sir Bruin, it is our pleasure that you
deliver this message; yet in the delivery thereof have great
regard to yourself; for Reynard is full of policy, and
knoweth how to dissemble, flatter, and betray; he hath a
world of snares to entangle you withal, and without great
exercise of judgment, will make a scorn and mock of the best
wisdom breathing."

"My Lord," answered Sir Bruin, "let me alone with Reynard;
I am not such a truant in discretion to become a mock to his
knavery;" and thus, full of jollity, the bear departed.

The next morning Bruin set out in quest of the fox;
and after passing through a dark forest and over a high
mountain, he came to Malepardus, Reynard's chiefest and most
ancient castle. Reynard was at home, and pretended to be ill
with eating too much honey. When the bear heard this, he was
extremely desirous of knowing where such excellent food
could be obtained; and Reynard promised to take him to a
garden where he should find more honey-combs than ten bears
could eat at a meal. But the treacherous rascal took him to
a carpenter's yard, where lay the trunk of a huge oak-tree,
half-riven asunder, with two great wedges in it, so that the
cleft stood a great way open. "Behold now, dear uncle," said
the fox, "within this tree is so much honey that it is
unmeasurable." The bear, in great haste, thrust his nose and
fore-paws into the tree; and immediately Reynard pulled out
the two great wedges, and caught Bruin in so sharp a trap,
that the poor beast howled with pain. This noise quickly
brought out the carpenter, who, perceiving how matters
stood, alarmed the whole village, who came and belaboured
the bear's sides with sticks and hoes and pitchforks, until,
mad with rage, he tore his bleeding face and paws from the
tree, and rushed blindly into a river that ran close by,
knocking into the water with him many of the villagers, and
among them, Dame Julock, the parson's wife, for whose sake
every one bestirred himself; and so poor Bruin got safe
away. After some delay, the bear returned to the