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 cleverly, that no one but his wife knew of the fact; and her he earnestly entreated to keep the secret of his disfigurement. She made oath to him that, for her own sake as well as his, she would not bring so great a shame upon her husband, even were it to gain the whole world. Notwithstanding all this, she was ready to expire with the pain of keeping this secret;—she had such a swelling of the heart, that some unlucky word she feared must necessarily slip out. Since, therefore, she dared tell it to no one, she ran down to a marsh hard by, her heart all on fire till she arrived there, and then like a bittern booming in the reeds, she laid her mouth down, and said, 'Betray me not, O water,—to you I tell it, and no one beside—my husband has two long ass's ears. And now is my heart at ease—the secret is out, for I could keep it no longer.' Thus you may perceive that, however stedfast we may remain for a time, out it must come at last; we cannot hide a secret. The remainder of the tale, if you desire it, is to be found in Ovid.

When this Knight, the hero of my story, found he was no nearer to the meaning of the