Reynard went back to his lair, afraid that he might get some unwelcome guests. He set up home in a cave in the forest and laid in a supply of food. One day, Isengrim came close to this lair in the forest. He was very unhappy and plagued by hunger, but another unpleasant adventure was in store for him.

Reynard was well provisioned and was in the process of cooking some eels, which Isengrim smelled. “Oho,” he thought, “that must be a really good meal.” The smell led him directly to his kinsman's door. Isengrim crouched down and hammered on it. Reynard, who could pull off amazing tricks, said: “Go away from my door! You must know that no one will come out and no one may come in at this time. What are you thinking of to behave like that! It is past the monastic hour of Nones, and we eremitical monks do not speak a word now, and would not do so even for all the gold of the Nibelungs.”

“Kinsman,” said Isengrim, “are you going to stay here as a monk until the end of your days?”

“Of course,” replied Reynard. “I have no other choice, since through no fault of my own you have withdrawn your patronage and even wanted to take away my life.”

“I will forgive you,” said Isengrim, “for whatever harm you may have done to me, if you will just be my ally.”

“You should indeed forgive me,” said Reynard, “because my life would certainly be at stake if I ever tried tricking you. As a token of thanks, I can give you two pieces of cooked eel that I don't need today.”

Isengrim was delighted by this and opened his mouth wide. Reynard threw in the pieces of eel, and Isengrim, fool that he was, said, “I would be more than happy if I could be the cook here.”

“You could have plenty,” said Reynard, “if you were to join our brotherhood. You could become the chief victualler.”

This was not particularly good advice.