other terms shall ye escape." "Poor victual shall ye find in me, so small and slight am I; and if ye kill so frail a thing, in no wise shall your worship be increased. To slay me were very sin, but it were a good deed to set me free." "By my faith, ye speak idly, for the more you beseech me the less will I do." "Certes," saith the bird, "ye say well, for so runneth the law; and often have we heard it said that fair reasoning angers the churl. But a proverb teacheth and showeth us that necessity is a hard master; here my strength may not avail me, but if you will set me free, I will make you wise with three wisdoms that were never yet known to any man of your lineage, and which would much avail you." "If I may have surety thereof, I will do it straightway," saith the villein. "Thereto I pledge you all my faith," the bird made answer; and forthright the villein let him go.

So the bird that had won his freedom by ready speech, taketh flight to the tree; all spent he was, and ruffled, for he had been rudely handled, and all his plumage turned awry. With his beak as best he might, he smoothed and ordered his feathers; but the churl, who was fain of the three wisdoms, admonished him to speak. Full of craft was that bird, and he saith: "If thou givest good heed, great lore shalt thou learn: Set not thy trust in all thou hearest." But the villein frowned in anger: "That knew I already," quoth he. "Fair friend, henceforth hold it well in mind, and forget it not." Quoth the churl: "Now in sooth may I look to learn wisdom! He who biddeth me bear this in mind, doth but jibe; but certes, when you escape me again, no man else shall you mock:—but I brag over late. Wherefore, now tell me the next wisdom, for this one I know well."

"Give good heed," saith the bird, "fair and goodly is the second: Weep not for that thou hast never had." Then the churl could not hold his peace, but answered all in anger: "Thou hast belied thy pledge to me; three wisdoms thou wert to teach me—so thou didst promise me—that were never yet known to any of my kin; but every man knoweth this, for there is none so foolish, or ever was, that he would weep for what was never his. Sorely hast thou lied to me." Thereupon the bird made answer: "Wouldst thou that I say them over to thee lest thou forget them? Ye are so ready of speech I fear for thy memory; methinketh ye will not bear the wisdoms in mind." "I know them better than you yourself," quoth the churl, "and long ago knew them. Foul fall him who shall ever thank you for showing him that in which he was already wise. By my head, I am not so untaught as ye deem me, and it is but because ye have escaped me that ye now mock me. But if ye hold by your covenant with me, ye will tell me the third wisdom, for of these two I have full understanding. Now speak out at your will, in that I have no power over you; tell me its substance, and I will give heed to it."

"Listen well, and I will tell you: the third is of such a nature that whosoever knoweth it will never be a poor man." Greatly the churl rejoiced when he heard the virtue of that wisdom, and saith: "This I needs must know, for riches I dearly desire." Lo, how he urgeth the bird, and saith: "It is time to eat, so tell me now speedily." And when the bird heard him, it maketh answer: "I warn thee, churl, that ye Let not fall to your feet that which you hold in your hand." All angry was the villein: for a long time he spoke not, and then he asketh: "And is there nought else? These are the sooth-sayings of children, for well I ween that many a man poor and in want knoweth this, even as thou knowest; ye have duped me and lied to me, for all that ye have shown me I was wise in before."

Then the bird maketh answer: "By my faith, and if thou hadst known this last wisdom, never wouldst thou have let me go, for if thou hadst killed me as thou didst think to do, never, by my eyes, had there dawned a day ye had not been the better for it." "Ha, in God's name, what good had ye been?" "Ahi, foul churl, ill son of an ill race, thou knowest not what hath befallen thee; thou hast sorely miscarried. In my body is a gem of great worth and price, and of the weight of three ounces; its virtue is so great that whoso hath it in his possession may never wish for aught, but straightway he hath it at his hand."

Now when the churl heard this, he beat his breast, and tore his garments, and rent his face with his nails, and cried out woe and alas. But the bird, who watched him from the tree, had great joy thereof. It waited until he had torn all his raiment, and wounded himself in many a place; then it said to him: "Wretched churl, when thou didst hold me in thy hand I was smaller than sparrow, or tit, or finch, which weigheth not so much as half an ounce." And the villein who groaneth in anger, saith: "By my faith, ye say true." "Churl, now mayest thou see well I have lied to thee concerning the gem." "Now I know it of a sooth, but certes, at first I believed thee." "Churl, now have I proved to thee on the spot thou knewest not the three wisdoms; and, for what thou didst say to me, that no man is, or ever was, so foolish he would weep for that he had never had, now, meseemeth, thou thyself makest lament for what was never thine and never will be. And when you had me in your snare, then did you cast down to your feet that which you held in your hand. So have you been brought to shame by the three wisdoms; henceforth, fair friend, hold them in mind. Good it is to learn goodly lore, for many a one heareth yet understandeth not, many a one speaketh of wisdom who is yet no whit wise in thought, many a one speaketh of courtesy who knoweth nought of the practice thereof, and many a man holdeth himself for wise who is given over to folly."

Now when the bird had so spoken, it took flight, and departed, never to return again to the garden. The leaves fell from the tree, the orchard failed and withered, the fountain ran dry, whereby the churl lost all his delight. Now know ye one and all that the proverb showeth us clearly that he who covets all, loses all.

explicit li Lais de l'Oiselet.

The Woful Knight

Gladly would I call to remembrance a lay whereof I have heard men speak; I will tell you its name and its story, and show you the city whence it sprang. Some call it The Woful Knight, but many there are who name it The Four Sorrows.

At Nantes in Bretaigne dwelt a lady who was rich in beauty and wisdom and all seemliness. And in that land was no knight of prowess who, and if he did but see her, straightway loved her not and besought her. She could in no wise love them all, yet none did she wish to renounce. And better it is to love and woo all the ladies of the land than to rob one fool of his motley, for he will speedily fall to fighting over it, whereas a lady doth pleasure to all in fair friendliness. And though it be not her will to hearken to them, yet ought she not to give them ill words, but rather hold them dear and honour them, and render them service and thanks. Now the lady of whom I would tell you was so besought in love by reason of her beauty and worth that many a one had a hand therein.

In Bretaigne,