Then placing her hour-glass and scythe at the foot of the tree, the unlucky dame climbed up; but scarcely had she pressed her foot upon the branches, than, lo! they sprang up as if from her tread, closed around and so shut in the impudent wight that she could not even stir. She called; she cried aloud, then moaned and supplicated. Philomen renewed his humble petition, but she persistently refused. "Very well! I only want five hundred years, five centuries more!" And raising his head menacingly, he took up the hour-glass and scythe, quietly returning to his cabin. Every morning he returned, imposed his conditions of release, which Death, becoming more and more irritated, as obstinately refused. Then he would go back patiently to his cabin. On the third night he saw a dark figure, with glittering eyes, prowling round the foot of his tree. He listened, and heard this conversation. Now, you must know that this was the Devil, who came to make his complaint: "What dost thou there, thou idler? Thou no longer sendest me work to do. I am ruined by thy delay." But the terrible accomplice could do nothing; because he who binds on earth as he binds in heaven had bound her so firmly that Death herself could not undo it. Next morning, after a fresh dispute with Philomen, she yielded, and consented to let him have five hundred years added to his life. But as Death is treacherous, he sought his tablet, and before she came down he made her sign the treaty. After that he set her free, restored her baggage, her hour-glass and scythe, and let her depart, threatening and raging as she went, vowing to cut off, at the very moment of the promised time, the life of one who had so pitilessly ridiculed her. {72}