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 when the king angrily interrupted him to accuse him of maiming the rabbit and devouring the crow, he began his defense.

First Reynard explained that since Martin the ape had undertaken to free him from his ban, his journey to Rome was of course unnecessary.  Then he related how the rabbit, dining at his house, had insulted and quarreled with his children, from whose clutches he had had much trouble to save him.  The crow’s death was caused by a fish bone she had swallowed.  Bellyn, the traitor, had slain Lampe himself, and evidently put his head in the wallet instead of some treasures which Reynard had intrusted to their care for the king and queen.

[Sidenote:  The ape’s intercession.] The king, who had listened impatiently to all this discourse, angrily retired, refusing to believe a word, while Reynard sought the ape’s wife, Frau Rueckenau, and bade her intercede for him.  She entered the royal tent, reminded the king of her former services, and seeing his mood somewhat softened, ventured to mention how cleverly Reynard once helped him to judge between the rival claims of a shepherd and a serpent.  The latter, caught in a noose and about to die, had implored a passing shepherd to set it free.  The peasant had done so after exacting a solemn oath from the serpent to do him no harm.  But the serpent, once released, and suffering from the pangs of hunger, threatened to devour the peasant.  The latter called the raven, wolf, and bear, whom he met by the way, to his aid; but as they all hoped to get a share of him, they all decided in favor of the serpent’s claim to eat him.

The case by this time had become so intricate that it was laid before the king, who, unable to judge wisely, called Reynard to his aid.  The fox declared that he could only settle so difficult a matter when plaintiff and defendant had assumed the relative positions which they occupied at the time of dispute.  Then when the snake was safely in the noose once more, Reynard decided that, knowing the serpent’s treachery, the peasant might again set him loose, but need not do so unless he chose.