A BALD KNIGHT1, who wore a wig2, went out to hunt. A sudden puff
of wind blew off his hat and wig, at which a loud laugh rang
forth from his companions. He pulled up his horse, and with
great glee joined in the joke by saying, "What a marvel3 it is
that hairs which are not mine should fly from me, when they have
forsaken even the man on whose head they grew."
Thy pride is but the prologue of thy shame
