"You mock me," cried the villein, "and do wrong to the faith you plighted with me. You pledged your word to tell me three secrets known but little to men of such lineage as mine, and you give me musty proverbs told over by all the world. Certes, what manner of man is he who weeps over what he has never had!" "Shall I tell it once again," replied the bird, "for great fear have I lest it should travel from your mind." "By my head," answered the villein, "I am a fairer scholar than you think. These two proverbs have naught to teach me; but hold truly to our covenant and bargain, and let the third secret contain a graver matter." "Listen well to my third secret," said the bird, "for he who receives it shall never be poor." "Ah, tell me this secret quickly," cried the churl, "for it draws near the hour of meat, and truly, beyond all things, do I desire to grow rich." Now when the bird heard him-- "This be thy punishment, oh, thou false churl--What you hold in your hand, never throw between your feet." Then was the villein all wrathful; but when words came to him to speak, he said-- "And are these your three mighty secrets! Why, these are but children's riddles, which I have known ever since I was born. You have but lied to me, and of all your teaching had I full knowledge long before." "By my faith," responded the bird, "had you known my third secret never would you have let me from your hand." "You say well," said the villein, "but at least knew I the two other proverbs." "Ah," said the bird, with malice, "but this proverb was worth a hundred of the others." "In what manner?" inquired the villein. "What, know you not what has chanced to you? Had you slain me when I was in your power that day would have been the happiest of your life. For in my body is a jewel, so precious and so rare, that it weighs at least three ounces. Yea, the virtue of this stone is such that he who owns it has but to wish, and lo, his desire is fulfilled." When the villein heard this thing he beat upon his breast, he tore his raiment, and disfigured his face with his nails, crying out that he was wretched and undone. The bird from his refuge in the tree rejoiced greatly to observe the churl's miserable plight, and said nothing till his enemy's clothes were torn to rags, and his hands sore wounded in many places. Then he spake--