雙語《列那狐》 32

CHAPTER XXXII

THEN spake Reynart the Fox and said,“Alas, what say you! is Cuwart dead? And where is Bellyn the Ram? What brought he to you when he came again? For I delivered to him three jewels; I would fain know where they are become. That one of them should he have given to you, my Lord the King, and the other-two to my Lady the Queen.”

The King said,“Bellyn brought us nought else but Cuwart's head, like as I said you before; whereof I took on him wrake. I made him to lose his life, for the foul caitiff said to me that he himself was of the counsel of the letters making that were in the male.”

“Alas, my lord, is this very truth? Woe to me caitiff that ever I was born! Since that these good jewels be thus lost, my heart will break for sorrow. I am sorry that I now live! What shall my wife say when she hears hereof? She shall go out of her wit for sorrow. I shall never, all so long as I live, have her friendship. She shall make much sorrow when she hears thereof.”

The She Ape said,“Reynart, dear Nephew, what profits that you make all this sorrow? Let it pass, and tell us what these jewels were. Peradventure we shall find counsel to have them again. If they be above earth Master Akeryn shall labour for them in his books, and also we shall curse for them in all the churches, unto the time that we have knowledge where they been. They may not be lost.”

“Nay, Aunt, think not that, for they that have them will not lightly depart from them. There was never King that ever gave so rich jewels as these be. Nevertheless you have somewhat with your words eased my heart and made it lighter than it was. Alas, lo, here you may see how he or they to whom a man trusts most is often by him or them deceived. Though I should go all the world through, and my life in adventure set therefor, I shall wit where these jewels are become.”With a dismalled and sorrowful speech, said the Fox:“Hearken you all my kin and friends, I shall name to you these jewels what they were, and then may you say that I have a great loss. That one of them was a ring of fine gold, and within the ring next the finger were written letters enamelled with sable and azure, and there were three Hebrew names therein. I could not myself read nor spell them, for I understand not that language; but Master Abrion of Trier he is a wise man, he understands well all manner of languages and the virtue of all manner herbs, and there is no beast so fierce nor strong but he can dompte him, for if he see him once he shall do as he will, and yet he believes not on God. He is a Jew, the wisest in conning, and specially he knows the virtue of stones. I showed him once this ring. He said that they were tho three names that Seth brought out of Paradise when he brought to his father Adam the Oyle of Mercy, and whosomever bears on him these three names he shall never be hurt by thunder nor lightning, nor no witchcraft shall have power over him, nor be tempted to do sin. And also he shall never take harm by cold though he lay three winters long nights in the field, though it snowed, stormed, or frore, never so sore, so great might have these words, witness of Master Abrion. Without forth on the ring stood a stone of three manner colours; the one part was like red crystal, and shone like as fire had been therein, in such wise that if one would go by night him behoved none other light, for the shining of the stone made and gave as great a light as it had been midday; that other part of the stone was white and clear as it had been burnished, who so had in his eyes any smart or soreness, or in his body any swelling, or headache, or any sickness, withoutforth if he striked this stone on the place where the grief is he shall anon be whole; or if any man be sick in his body of venom, or ill meat in his stomach, of colic, strangulation, stone, fistel, or cancer, or any other sickness, save only the very death, let him lay this stone in a little water and let him drink it, and he shall forthwith be whole and all quit of his sickness. Alas,”said the Fox,“we have good cause to be sorry to lose such a jewel! Furthermore the third colour was green like glass, but there were some sprinkles therein like purple; the master told for truth, that who that bare this stone upon him should never be hurt of his enemy, and was no man, were he never so strong and hardy, that might misdo him; and wherever that he fought he should have victory, were it by night or by day, also ferre as he beheld it fasting; and also thereto, wheresomever he went and in what fellowship, he should be beloved, though he had hated him before, if he had the ring upon him they should forget their anger as soon as they saw him. Also though he were all naked in a field again an hundred armed men, he should be well hearted and escape from them with worship; but he must be a noble gentleman and have no churl's conditions, for then the stone had no might. And because this stone was so precious and good, I thought in myself that I was not able nor worthy to bear it, and therefore I sent it to my dear Lord the King, for I know him for the most noble that now lives, and also all our welfare and worship lies on him, and for he should be kept from all dread, need, and ungheluck.

“I found this ring in my father's treasure, and in the same place I took a glass or a mirror and a comb which my wife would algates have. A man might wonder that saw these jewels. I sent these to my Lady the Queen, for I have founden her good and gracious to me. This Comb might not be too much praised. It was made of the bone of a clean noble beast named Panthera, which feeds him between the great Inde and Earthly Paradise. He is so lusty fair and of colour, that there is no colour under the heaven but some likeness is in him; thereto he smells so sweet, that the savour of him boteth all sickness; and for his beauty and sweet smelling all other beasts follow him, for by his sweet savour they are healed of all sickness. This Panthera has a fair bone, broad and thin; when so is that this beast is slain all the sweet odour rested in the bone, which cannot be broken, nor shall never rot, nor be destroyed by fire, by water, nor by smiting, it is so hardy, tight and fast, and yet it is light of weight. The sweet odour of it has great might; that who that smells it sette nought by none other lust in the world, and is eased and quit of all manner diseases and infirmities, and also he is jocund and glad in his heart. This Comb is polished as it were fine silver, and the teeth of it be small and strait, and between the greater teeth and the smaller is a large field and space where is carven many an image subtilly made and enamelled about with fine gold; the field is checked with sable and silver, enamelled with cybore and azure, and therein is the history how Venus, Juno, and Pallas strove for the apple of gold which each of them would have had, which controversy was set upon Paris that he should give it to the fairest of them three. Paris was that time an herdman, and kept his father's beasts and sheep without Troy. When he had received the apple, Juno promised to him if he would judge that she might have the apple, he should have the most riches of the world. Pallas said if she might have the apple she would give him wisdom and strength, and make him so great a lord that he should overcome all his enemies and whom he would. Venus said,‘What needest thou riches or strength, art not thou Priamus' son, and Hector is thy brother, which have all Asia under their power? Art not thou one of the possessors of great Troy? If thou wilt give to me the apple, I shall give thee the richest treasure of the world, and that shall be the fairest woman that ever had life on earth, nor never shall none be born fairer than she. Then shalt thou be richer than rich, and shalt climb above all other, for that is the treasure that no man can prize enough; for honest fair and good women can put away many a sorrow from the heart, they be shamefast and wise, and bring a man in very joy and bliss.’Paris heard this Venus, which presented him this great joy and fair lady, and prayed her to name this fair lady that was so fair, and where she was. Venus said,‘It is Helen, King Menelaus' wife of Greece, there lives not a nobler, richer, gentler, nor wiser wife in all the world.’Then Paris gave to her the apple, and said that she was fairest. How that he got afterward Helen by the help of Venus, and how he brought her in to Troy and wedded her, the great love and jolly life that they had together, was all carven in the field, everything by himself, and the story written.

“Now you shall hear of the Mirror. The glass that stood thereon was of such virtue that men might see therein all that was done within a mile, of men of beasts and of all thing that me would desire to wit and know. And what man looked in the glass, had he only disease of pricking or motes, smart, or pearls in his eyes, he should be anon healed of it, such great virtue had the glass. Is it then wonder if I be moved and angry for to lose such manner jewels? The tree in which this glass stood was light and fast and was named Cetyne. It should endure ever ere it would rot, or worms should hurt it, and therefore King Solomon ceiled his temple with the same wood withinforth. Men praised it dearer than fine gold; it is like to tree of hebenus, of which wood King Crompart made his horse of tree for love of King Morcadigas' daughter that was so fair, whom he had weened for to have won. That horse was so made within, that whosoever rode on it, if he would, he should be within less than one hour an hundred miles thence; and that was well proved, for Cleomedes the king's son would not believe that that horse of tree had such might and virtue. He was young, lusty, and hardy, and desired to do great deeds of praise for to be renowned in this world, and leapt on this horse of tree. Crompart turned a pin that stood on his breast, and anon the horse lift him up and went out of the hall by the window, and ere one might say his pater noster he was gone more than ten mile away. Cleomedes was sore afraid, and supposed never to have turned again, as the history thereof tells more plainly. But how great dread he had, and how far that he rode upon that horse made of the tree of hebenus ere he could know the art and craft how he should turn him; and how joyful he was when he knew it; and how men sorrowed for him; and how he knew all this, and the joy thereof when he came again, all this I pass over for losing of time; but the most part of all came to by the virtue of the wood, of which wood the tree that the glass stood in was made. And that was, without forth of the glass, half a foot broad, wherein stood some strange histories, which were of gold, of sable, of silver, of yellow, azure, and cynope, these six colours were therein wrought in such wise as it behoved; and under every history the words were graven and enamelled, that every man might understand what each history was. After my judgment there was never mirror so costly, so lustly, nor so pleasant. In the beginning stood there an Horse, made fat, strong, and sore envious upon an Hart which ran in the field so far and swiftly that the Horse was angry that he ran so far before him and could not overtake him. He thought he should catch him and subdue him, though he should suffer much pain therefor. The Horse spake tho to a Herdman in this wise,‘If thou couldst taken an Hart that I well can show thee, thou shouldst have great profit thereof; thou shouldst sell dear his horns, his skin, and his flesh.’The Herdman said,‘How may I come by him?’The Horse said,‘Sit upon me, and I shall bear thee, and we shall hunt him till he be take.’The Herdman sprang and sat upon the Horse, and saw the Hart; and he rode after; but the Hart was light of foot and swift, and outran the Horse far. They hunted so far after him that the Horse was weary, and said to the Herdman that sat on him,‘Now sit off, I will rest me, I am all weary, and give me leave to go from thee.’The Herdman said,‘I have arrested thee; thou mayst not escape from me; I have a bridle on thy head and spurs on my heels; thou shalt never have thank hereof; I shall bedwynge and subdue thee, hadst thou sworn the contrary.’See how the Horse brought himself in thraldom and was taken in his own net. How may one better be taken than by his own proper envy suffer himself to be taken and ridden. There are many that labour to hurt other, and they themselven are hurt and rewarded with the same. There was also made an Ass and an Hound which dwelled both with a rich man. The man loved his Hound well, for he played oft with him as folk do with Hounds. The Hound leapt up and played with his tail, and licked his master about the mouth. This saw Howdwin the Ass, and had great spite thereof in his heart, and said to himself,‘How may this be? and what may my lord see on his foul Hound, whom I never see does good nor profit save springs on him and kisses him? But me, whom men putten to labour, to bear and draw and do more in a week than he with his fifteen should do in a whole year, —and yet sits he nevertheless by him at the table and there eats bones, flesh, and fat trenchours, —and I have nothing but thistles and nettles, and lie on nights on the hard earth, and suffer many a scorn. I will no longer suffer this. I will think how I may get my lord's love and friendship, like as the Hound does.’Therewith came the lord, and the Ass lift up his tail and sprang with his fore feet on the lord's shoulders and blared, grinned, and sang, and with his feet made two great boles about his ears, and put forth his mouth and would have kissed the lord's mouth as he had seen the Hound done. Tho cried the lord, sore afraid,‘Help! help! this Ass will slay me!’Then came his servants with staves and smiten and beat the Ass so sore that he had weened he should have lost his life. Tho returned he to his stable and ate thistle and nettles and was an Ass as he before was. In likewise whoso have enough and spite of another's welfare, and were served in likewise, it should be well behoveful. Therefore it is concluded that the Ass shall eat thistles and nettles and bear the sack. Though men would do him worship he cannot understand it, but must use old lewd manners. Whereas asses getten lordships, there men see seldom good rule. For they take heed of nothing but on their singular profit; yet are they take up and risen great, the more pity is. Hearken further how my father and Tybert the Cat went together, and had sworn by their truth that for love nor hate they should not depart. And what they got they should depart to each the half. Then on a time they saw hunters coming over the field with many hounds. They leapt and ran fast from themward all that they might, as they that were afraid of their life.‘Tybert,’said the Fox,‘Whither shall we now best flee? the hunters have espied us. Know you any help?’My father trusted on the promise that each made to other, and that he would for no need depart from him.‘Tybert,’said he,‘I have a sackful of wiles if we have need; as far as we abide together we need not to doubt hunters nor hounds.’Tybert began to sigh and was sore afraid, and said,‘Reynart, what availlen many words? I know but one wile, and thither must I too.’And tho clamb he up on a high tree into the top under the leaves, whereas hunter nor hound might do him none harm, and left my father alone in jeopardy of his life, for the hunters set on him the hounds all that they could. Men blew the horns, and cried, and hallooed,‘The Fox! Slee and take!’When Tybert the Cat saw that, he mocked and scorned my father and said,‘What, Reynart, cousin, unbind now your sack where all the wiles are in! It is now time. You be so wise called; help yourself, for you have need.’This much must my father hear of him to whom he had most his trust on, and was almost taken, and nigh his death. And he ran and fled with great fear of his life, and let his male slide off because he would be the lighter. Yet all that could not help him, for the hounds were too swift and should have bitten him; but he had one adventure that thereby he found an old hole, wherein he crept, and escaped thus the hunters and hounds. Thus held this false deceiver Tybert his sykernes that he had promised. Alas, how many are there now a days that keep not their promise, and set not thereby though they break it! And though I hate Tybert herefor, is it wonder? But I do not. Sikerly, I love my soul too well thereto. Nevertheless, if I saw him in adventure and misfall in his body or in his goods, I think it should not much go to my heart, so that another did it. Nevertheless, I shall neither hate him nor have envy at him. I shall, for God's love, forgive him. Yet is it not so clear out of my heart but a little ill-will to himward abides therein as this comes to my remembrance; and the cause is that the sensuality of my flesh fights against reason. Ther stood also in that Mirror, of the Wolf, how he found once upon a heath a dead horse flayen, but all the flesh was eaten. Then went he and bote great morsels of the bones, that for hunger he took three or four at once and swallowed them in, for he was so greedy that one of the bones stack thwart in his mouth. Whereof he had great pain, and was of great fear of his life. He sought all about for wise masters and surgeons, and promised great gifts for to be healed of his disease. At last, when he could nowhere find remedy, he came to the Crane with his long neck and bill, and prayed him to help him, and he would love and reward him so well that he should ever be the better. The Crane hearked after this great reward, and put his head into his throat, and brought out the bone with his bill. The Wolf start aside with the plucking, and cried out,‘Alas, thou doest me harm! but I forgive it thee. Do no more so, I would not suffer it of another.’The Crane said,‘Sir Esegrim, go and be merry, for you be all whole. Now give to me that you promised.’The Wolf said,‘Will you hear what he says? I am he that has suffered and have cause to plain, and he will have good of me! He thanketh not me of the kindness that I did to him. He put his head in my mouth, and I suffered him to draw it out whole without hurting; and he did to me also harm. And if any here should have a reward, it should be I, by right.’

“Thus the unkind men nowadays reward them that do them good. When the false and subtle arise and become great, then goes worship and profit all to nought. There are many, of right that ought reward and do good to such as have helpen them in their need, that now find causes and say they be hurt, and would have amends where they ought to reward and make amends themself. Therefore it is said, and truth it is, who that will chide or chastise see that he be clear himself. All this and much more than I now can well remember was made and wrought in this glass. The master that ordained it was a cunning man and a profound clerk in many sciences. And because these jewels were over good and precious for me to keep and have, therefore I sent them to my dear Lord the King and to the Queen in present. Where are they now that give to their lords such presents. The sorrow that my two children made when I sent away the glass was great; for they were wont to look therein and see themself how their clothing and array became them on their bodies. Oh, alas! I knew not that Cuwart the Hare was so nigh his death when I delivered him the male with these jewels. I wist not to whom I might better have taken them, though it should have cost me my life, than him and Bellyn the Ram. They were two of my best friends. Out, alas! I cry upon the murderer. I shall know who it was, though I should run through all the world to seek him, for murder abides not hid, it shall come out. Peradventure he is in this company that knows where Cuwart is become, though he tells it not; for many false shrews walk with good men, from whom no man can keep him, they known their craft so well and can well cover their falseness. But the most wonder that I have is that my Lord the King here sayeth so felly, that my father nor I did him never good. That thinks me marvel, of a king. But there come so many things before him that he forgets that one with that other, and so fares by me. Dear Lord, remember not you when my Lord your father lived, and you an youngling of two year were, that my father came from school from Monpellier whereas he had five year studied in recipes of medicines. He knew all the tokens of the urine as well as his hand, and also all the herbs, and nature of them which were viscous or laxative. He was a singular master in that science. He might well wear cloth of silk and a gilt girdle. When he came to Court he found the King in a great sickness, whereof he was sorry in his heart, for he loved him above all other lords. The King would not forego him, for when he came all other had leave to walk where they would; he trusted none so much as him. He said,‘Reynart, I am sick, and feel me the longer the worse.’My father said,‘My dear Lord, here is an urinal: make your water therein, and as soon as I may see it I shall tell what sickness it is and also how you shall be holpen.’The King did as he counselled him, for he trusted no man better that lived. Though so were that my father did not as he should have done to you, but that was by counsel of evil and foul beasts —I had wonder thereof—but it was a raising against his death. He said,‘My Lord, if you will be whole you must eat the liver of a wolf of seven year old, that may you not leave or else you shall die; for your urine shows it plainly.’

“The Wolf stood thereby and said nought.

“But the King said to him,‘Sir Esegrim, now, you hear well that I must have your liver if I will be whole.’

“Tho answered the Wolf and said,‘Nay my lord not so, I wot well I am not yet five year old. I have heard my mother say so.’

“My father said,‘What skills these words? Let him be opened, and I shall know by the liver if it be good for you or not.’

“And therewith the Wolf was taken to kitchen, and his liver taken out, which the King ate and was anon all whole of all his sickness. Then thanketh he my father much, and commanded all his household upon their lives that after that time they should call him Master Reynart.

“He abode still by the King, and was believed of all things, and must always go by his side; and the King gave to him a garland of roses which he must always wear on his head. But now this is all turned. All the old good things that he did be forgotten, and these covetous and ravenous shrews are taken up and set on the high bench, and are heard and made great, and the wise folk are put aback, by which these lords oft lack, and cause them to be in much trouble and sorrow. For when a covetous man of low birth is made a lord, and is much great, and above his neighbours has power and might, then he knows not himself, nor whence he is come, and has no pity on no man's hurt, nor hears no man's request, but if he may have great gifts. All his intent and desire is to gather good, and to be greater. Oh, how many covetous men are now in lords' courts! They flatter and smeke, and please the prince, for their singular avail, but and the prince had need of them or their good, they should rather suffer him to die, or fare right hard, ere they would give or lend him. They be like the Wolf that had liefer the King had died than he would give him his liver. Yet had I liefer ere that the King or the Queen should fare amiss, that twenty such wolves should lose their lives; it were also the least loss. My lord, all this befell in your youth, that my father did thus. I think you have forgotten it.

“And also I have my self done you reverence, worship, and courtesy. Unroused be it, though you now thank me but little, but peradventure you remembered not that I shall now say, —not to any forwitting of you, for you be worthy all worship and reverence that any man can do; that have you of Almighty God by inheritance of your noble progenitors, wherefore I your humble subject and servant am bounden to do to you all the service that I can or may. I came on a time walking with the Wolf Esegrim, and we had gotten under us both a Swine. And for his loud crying we bit him to death; and, sire, you came from far out of a grove against us. You saluted us friendly, and said we were welcome, and that you and my Lady the Queen, which came after you, had great hunger and had nothing for to eat, and prayed us for to give you part of our winning. Esegrim spake so soft that a man uneasily might hear him, but I spake out and said,‘yea, my lord, with a good will. Though it were more, we will well that you have part.’And then the Wolf departed as he was wont to do; departed, and took that one half for himself, and he gave you a quarter for you and for the Queen. That other quarter he ate and bit as hastily as he might, because he would eat it alone. And he gave to me but half the lungs, that I pray God that evil might he fare.

“Thus showed he his conditions and nature. Ere men should have sungen a Credo, you, my lord, had eaten your part, and yet would you fain have had more, for you were not full. And because he gave you no more, nor proffered you, you lift up your right foot and smote him between the ears that you tore his skin over his eyes, and tho he might no longer abide, but he bled, howled, and ran away, and left his part there lying. Tho said you to him,‘Haste you again hither, and bring to us more. And here after see better to how you deal and part.’Then said I,‘My lord, if it please you I will go with him, I wot well what you said.’I went with him. He bled and groaned, as sore as he was, all softly; he durst not cry loud. We went so far that we brought a calf. And when you saw us come therewith you laughed, for you were well pleased, you said to me that I was swift in hunting:‘I see well that you can find well when you take it upon you. You be good to send forth in a need. The calf is good and fat, hereof shall you be the dealer.’I said,‘My lord, with a good will. The one half, my lord, shall be for you. And that other half for my lady the Queen. The moghettis, liver, lungs, and the inward, shall be for your children. The head shall Esegrim the Wolf have, and I will have the feet.’Tho said you,‘Reynart, who has taught you to depart so courteously?’‘My lord,’said I,‘that has done this priest that sits here with the bloody crown. He lost his skin with the uncourteous departing of the swine, and for his courtesy and ravin he has hurt and shame.’

“Alas there be many wolves now a days that, without right and reason, destroy and eat them that they may have the overhand of. They spare neither flesh nor blood, friend nor enemy. What they can get that take they. O, woe be to that land and to towns where as the wolves have the overhand!

“My lord, this and many other good thing have I done for you, that I could well tell if it were not too long, of which now you remember little by the words I hear of you. If you would all thing oversee well, you would not say as you do. I have seen the day that there should no great matter be concluded in this Court without my advice. Albeit that this adventure is now fallen, it might happen yet that my words shall be heard and also believed as well as another's, as far as right will, for I desire none other. For if there be any can say and make good by sufficient witnesses that I have trespassed, I will abide all the right and law that may come thereof; and if any say on me anything of which he can bring no witnesses, let me then be ruled after the law and custom of this court.”

The King said,“Reynart, you say reasonably. I know not of Cuwart's death more than that Bellyn the Ram brought his head hither in the male. Thereof I let you go quit, for I have no witness thereof.”

“My dear lord,”said Reynart,“God thank you. Sykerly you do well. For his death makes me so sorrowful that methinks my heart will break in two. Oh, when they departed from me, my heart was so heavy that I should have swooned. I wot well it was a token of the loss that tho was so nigh coming to me.”

All the most part of them that were there and heard the Fox's words of the jewels, and how he made his countenance and stretched him, had verily supposed that it had not be feigned but that it had be true. They were sorry of his loss and misadventure, and also of his sorrow. The King and the Queen had both pity of him, and bade him to make not too much sorrow, but that he should endeavour him to seek them. For he had so much praised them that they had great will and desire to have them. And because he had made them to understand that he had sent these jewels to them, though they never had them yet they thanked him, and prayed him to help that they might have them.

The Fox understood their meaning well, he thought toward them but little good for all that. He said,“God thank you, my lord and my lady, that you so friendly comfort me in my sorrow. I shall not rest night nor day, nor all they that will do anything for me, but run, and pray, threaten, and ask all the four corners of the world, though I should ever seek, till that I know where they are become. And I pray you, my Lord the King, that if they were in such place as I could not get them by prayer, by might, nor by request, that you would assist me and abide by me; for it touches yourself, and the good is yours; and also it is your part to do justice on theft and murder, which both are in this case.”

“Reynart,”said the King,“that shall I not leave, when you know where they are. My help shall be alway ready for you.”

“Oh, dear lord, this is too much presented to me. If I had power and might I should deserve against you.”

Now has the Fox his matter fast and fair, for he has the King in his hand as he would. Him thought that he was in better case than it was like to have be; he has made so many leasings that he may go freely where he will, without complaining of any of them all, save of Esegrim, which was to himward angry and displeased, and said,“O noble King, are you so much childish that you believe this false and subtle shrew, and suffer yourself with false lies thus to be deceived? Of faith it should be long or I should believe him, he is in murder and treason all bewrapped, and he mocks you before your visage. I shall tell him another tale. I am glad that I see now him here. All his leasings shall not avail him ere he depart from me.”