Yet they through spite, he says, proceed
To claim that he's not fit to live.
The furious wolf throws down his glove,
To signify that he will prove,
In combat, all his charges true.
Poor Reynard now can nothing do
But take the challenge up and fight.
The she-ape comes and proffers aid
And Reynard soon by her is made
All ready for the coming strife,
In which is wagered life for life,
To manifest where dwells the right.
CANTO XII.
The fox and wolf within the ring
Their duel fight before the king;
And never have elsewhere before
Sly Reynard's tricks availed him more.
With body shorn and laved with oil
Evades he all the wolf's attacks;
And then with subtle twists and knacks
He conquers Isengrim outright.
Low cunning better serves than might,
In folly's strife or reason's toil.
The wolf from off the field is borne,
Defeated, wounded, and forlorn;
His wife and friends about him grieve,
And think that he can hardly live.
But Reynard is exalted high;
Success has brought a change of front;
The king and all who him were wont
To vilify are now his friends.
And thus it is this fable ends;
Its moral you can now supply.
