“’Here now is each of the parties
    Once again in his former state, nor has either the contest
    Won or lost.  The right, I think, of itself is apparent. 
    For if it pleases the man, he again can deliver the serpent
    Out of the noose; if not, he may let her remain and be hang’d there. 
    Free he may go on his way with honor and see to his business,
    Since she has proved herself false, when she had accepted his kindness;
    Fairly the man has the choice.  This seems to me to be justice,
    True to the spirit.  Let him who understands better declare it.’”

[Illustration:  REYNARD PREPARING FOR BATTLE.—­Kaulbach.]

The king, remembering this celebrated judgment, and skillfully reminded by Frau Rueckenau of the bear’s and the wolf’s rapacity, consented at last to give Reynard a second hearing.  The fox now minutely described the treasures he sent to court,—­a magic ring for the king, and a comb and mirror for the queen.  Not only was the fable of the judgment of Paris engraved on the latter, but also that of the jealous donkey, who, imitating his master’s lapdog, and trying to climb into his lap, received nothing but blows.  There was also the story of the cat and the fox, of the wolf and the crane, and, lastly, the account of the miraculous way in which his father, a noted leech, had saved Nobel’s sire by making him eat the flesh of a wolf just seven years old.

The pleader then reminded the king of a noted hunting party, where Isegrim, having secured a boar, gave the king one quarter, the queen another, reserved a half for himself, and gave the fox nothing but the head.  This division was of course very disloyal, and the fox showed that he thought so by dividing a calf more equitably; i.e., giving the queen one half, the king the other, the heart and liver to the princes, the head to the wolf, and reserving only the feet for himself.

[Sidenote:  Duel between the fox and the wolf.] Reynard prided himself upon these tokens of loyalty, and then, seeing that he had made a favorable impression, he volunteered, in spite of his small size, to meet the wolf in battle and leave the vindication of his claims to the judgment of God.  This magnanimous behavior filled the king with admiration, and the trial was appointed for the following day, the intervening hours being granted to both combatants for preparation.  Reynard, still advised by Frau Rueckenau, was shaved smooth, rubbed with butter until he was as slippery as could be, and instructed to feign fear and run fleetly in front of the wolf, kicking up as much sand as possible, and using his brush to dash it into his opponent’s eyes and thus blind him.

The combat took place.  The wolf, blinded by the sand in his eyes, was so infuriated that he finally pounced upon the fox, who, however, managed yet to get the upper hand and come off victor, generously granting life to his foe, whom he had nearly torn and scratched to pieces.  Reynard, having thus won the victory, enjoyed the plaudits of the crowd, while the wolf, being vanquished, was publicly derided, and borne off by his few remaining friends to be nursed back to health, if possible.