XXXI
How the Lord Governor Shot a Very Foul Fox
So when order was restored, the master-drinkers took with them the minstrels and the womenfolk, and away to another house wherein was a great room chosen and dedicated for another sort of folly. But my lord throws himself on his pallet-bed, for either from anger or from overeating he was in pain: so I let him lie where he was, to rest and sleep, but hardly had I come to the door of the room when he must needs whistle to me: and that he could not. Then he would call; but naught could he say but “Simple!” So I ran back to him and found his eyes turn in his head as with a beast that is slaughtered: and there stood I before him like a stockfish, neither did I know what to do. But he pointed to the washstand and stammered out. “Bra‑bra‑bring me that, thou rogue: ha‑ha‑ha‑hand me the basin. I mu‑mu‑must shoot a fo‑fo‑fo‑fox!”
So with all haste I brought him the silver washbasin, but ere I could come to him he had a pair of cheeks like a trumpeter. Then he took me quickly by the arm and made me so to stand that I must hold the basin right before his mouth. Then all must out, with grievous retchings, and such foul stuff was discharged into the said basin that I near fainted away by reason of the unbearable stench, and specially because some fragments spurted up into my face. And nearly did I do the same: but when I marked how deadly pale he was, I gave that over for sheer fright and feared only his soul would leave him with his vomit. For the cold sweat broke out upon his forehead, and his face was like a dying man’s. But when he recovered himself he bade me fetch fresh water, that with that he might rinse out the wineskin into which he had made his belly.
Thereafter he bade me take away the fox: and because I knew not where I should bestow such a precious treasure, which, besides that it was in a silver dish, was composed of all manner of dainties that I had seen my lord eat, I took it to the steward: to him I showed this fine stuff and asked what I should do with the fox. “Thou fool,” says he, “go and take it to the tanner to tan his hides therewith.” So I asked where could I find the tanner: but he perceiving my simplicity. “Nay,” says he, “take it to the doctor, that he may see from it what our lord’s state of health is.” And such an April fool’s journey had I surely gone, but that the steward was affrighted at what might follow: he bade me therefore take the filth to the kitchen, with orders that the maids should serve it up with seasoning. And this I did in all good faith, and was by those baggages soundly laughed at for my pains.