Which of these four, that here you see,  
In greatest danger you think to be.   

A Client, between two Lawyers. A Maid, between two Friars.  

〈…〉 the sequel do nor doubt.  
Between 〈…〉 both, with lossse I must wrinng out.  
But it's I must bring thy matter well about.  
I am 〈…〉 elder, and can best counsel give.  
I still shall doubt, when two such do meshrieve.  
I am the younger, do him beeleeve.   Client. 
Good Sir what think you of my case?  Lawyer. 
'tis clear, & good, & just.  Client. 
But what say you Sir?  Lawyer. 
This I say, take heed to whom you trust.  Client. 
Why Sir? think you he is not learned?  Lawyer. 
Yes, but his power is small,  
Give me my fee, it is in me to make an end of all.  Client. 
Now in what danger stands my case, in these two Lawyers hands?  
That while I creep to them for words, they creep into my Lands.  Maid. 
What say you holy man to me?  Friar. 
I say, fair holy maid,  
Lean thou to me, and on my love, let all thy sins be laid:  Maid. 
And what say you good man?  Friar. 
I say show all to me;  
That better than that aged man, can help and comfort thee.  Maid. 
Now in what peril stands a Maid, in shrieft between two Friars?  
That only make the Church a Cloak, to cover foul desires.   

A Goose, between two Foxes. A Rat, between two Cats.  

Gossip be silent, and do leave your prate.  
Then what means Raynards' walk abroad so late.  
Neighbours you know, false dealing I do hate.  
'tis pity that this spoiling beast doth live.  
My smallest faults must punished be,  
When greater thieves are let go free.  
Then Sister Pusse, do you the onset give.   Goose. 
Sir Raynard, what say you to me?  Raynard 
I say you slain the grass:  
And you are like to answer for, the trespass ere you pass.  Goose. 
And what say you good Sir?  Raynard. 
Your keakeing waked my Dame,  
And you shall know, what 'tis to bring the house so out of frame.  Goose. 
Alas hard hap, one simple Goose, to be two Fox's prey,  
When from one Fox, a flock of Geese can hardly scape away.  Rat. 
Good Mistress Pusse, tell me wherefore you aim thus at my head?  Cat. 
Because you stole my Mistress Cheese, her Candles, and her Bread.  Rat. 
And what say you good Puss?  Cat. 
You gnawed my Mistress Ruffs, Her Aprons, Towels, Handkerchiefs, her Falling Bands, and Cuffs.  Rat. 
Alas, that one poor Rat, should come, to die between two Cats, When one good Cat, will serve the turn, to kill a world of Rats.    

LONDON Printed in Shoe-lane, at the sign of the Golden Falcon. by R: S. 1623.