Reynard Repents

Reynard Repents

Arriving at the home of Reynard, a place he occupies with his wife and two children, Grymbart explains his mission.
“So it is thus that I have appeared here, dear Eme,” which means “uncle." “Should you refuse my company, stay put, it will not go so well with you and the king,” he explained. “In short time your house will be surrounded, all that you hold dear will be taken—both the living and things that be not animated.” He mentioned this in reference to Reynard’s wife and his two sleeping kids.

Reynard thought it well to accompany his nephew, Grymbart. But long he worried about his fate, thought that maybe some penance would do him good.
“If you think you can be serious about it,” said Grymbart, “I’ll help you with the penance.”
So Reynard recounted a great deal of evil he’d done towards others. The poor wolf was many times the victim of his misdeeds, and had suffered greatly—more so than any other animal of Reynard’s acquaintance. He’d gone so far as to call the wolf a relative, a family member, knowing that he had no relation whatsoever with the beast—other than that of a fellow dweller of the forest.
“I knew all this, yet confided in the wolf, as to better gain his confidence. I even had close relations with his wife.”
Knowing that Reynard had probably not told everything he’d been guilty of, Grymbart nonetheless prescribed a dose of penance.
“Take this stick, he said, and three times thrash yourself with it. Once the thrashing is done, lay the stick upon the ground and jump thrice over it, without bending your knees.”
He explained that the fox’s penance should be complete at that point.
Reynard did what he was told, thrashed with the stick, then jumped over it in the fashion prescribed. When this was done, he was happy.
“Now, as long as you can stick to it, and not be swayed from your course, you should be fine,” said Grymbart.

As they walked the path, they came upon a convent, the black-robed nuns thronging in the courtyard. There, too, were the fat hens they kept at that place, pecking and foraging on the ground. Reynard very nearly leapt the fence to get at the hens, was reminded by Grymbart of his promise and the penance he’d just done.
“Oh, yes—that,” said Reynard, promising anew not to let any distractions veer him from his course.

Soon they came to the place where the lion held court, and were greeted with great earnestness and solemnity of spirit. It is here that the lion first addresses the accused, and also here that the fox has a chance to defend himself against the accusations.

Interruption

Before continuing on to the next chapter, I will mention that verily it seems have I veered from the narrative which concerns the improvements made to the house, its structures and gardens. This detour into the fifteenth century—and long before that—is no brethren to the tale first I have sought to tell—other than they are both told in words. The origins of the fox and his forested companions date to several centuries before the translation of 1480 upon which I rely here. Many of these tales take place in France, although an original manuscript—thought to be very important—has been lost. That one dates to the early thirteenth century. When reading through the old English, I rely on scanning the pages for familiar words, picking out things that may sound interesting in our modern tongue, and including them in this text. Otherwise, the tale is purely paraphrased, and all quotes made up.