he heard an owl screeching, like an owl in despair. "Hey-day!" said he, "here's an owl in great affliction. It has been caught, perhaps, in some net." He searched on all sides, and at last discovered some large nets, which had been spread by fowlers during the night to catch small birds. "What a pity," said he, "that men are only made to torment each other, or to persecute poor animals which do them no wrong or mischief." He drew his knife and cut the cords. The owl took flight: but returning swiftly on the wing,—"Avenant," it cried, "it is needless for me to make a long speech to enable you to comprehend the obligation I am under to you: it speaks plainly enough for itself. The hunters would soon have been here. I had been taken, I had been dead, but for your assistance. I have a grateful heart; I will do as much for you."
These were the three most important adventures which befel Avenant on his journey. He was so eager to reach the end of it, that he lost no time in repairing to the palace of the Fair with Golden Hair. Everything about it was admirable. There were diamonds to be seen in heaps, as though they were pebbles. Fine clothes, sweetmeats, money,—the most wonderful sight that ever was seen; and Avenant thought in his heart, if he could persuade the princess to leave all this to go to the king his master, he should be very lucky indeed. He dressed himself in a suit of brocade, with a plume of carnation and white feathers; combed and powdered himself, washed his face, put a richly embroidered scarf round his neck, with a little basket, and in it a beautiful little dog which he had bought as he came through Bologna.[1] Avenant was so handsome, so amiable, and did everything with so much grace, that when he presented himself at the palace gate, the guards saluted him most respectfully, and they ran to inform the Fair with Golden Hair, that Avenant, ambassador from the king, her nearest neighbour, requested to be presented to her.
At the name of Avenant, the princess said, "That betokens something agreeable to me. I would wager he is a pretty
- ↑ Not "Boulogne" in France, as generally translated. Evelyn, in his Diary, speaking of Bologna in 1645, says, "Many of the religious men nourish those lapdogs, which the ladies are so fond of, and which they here sell. They are a pigmy sort of spaniels, whose noses they break when puppies, which in my opinion deforms them."
