▪ The Fabulous tales of Esope the Phrygian, Compiled most eloquently in Scottish Metre by Master Robert Henrison, & now lately Englished.  
Every tale Moralised most aptly to this present time, worthy to be read.  PATET OCCULTA VERITAS TEMPORE 
Imprinted at London by Richard Smith. Anno. 1577.   

The books passport.  
THat man near wrote  
whose write pleased all men's mind,  
Nor I as now  
think no such place to find:  
For fyndfault he  
himself that no good can,  
By slanderous tongue,  
doth hinder many a man,  
Which else would write  
to many a ones content:  
(But Bayard I)  
cares not for being shent.  
Go therefore book,  
to each man's eye to view:  
To wise and sad,  
and all the carping crew.  
The wisest sort,  
will well accept my skill:  
Sir Momus mates,  
takes all good things as ill.  
And he that likes not  
this as I do say:  
Here is the door  
and there forth right the way.  
FINIS.   

To his worshipful and especial good friend Master Richard Stoneley Esquire one of the four tellers of the Q. majesties receipt of the exchequer, and Receiver of the first fruits and tenths to her Majesty. R. S. wisheth increase of Worship to the glory of God.  
Worshipful Sir, calling to my mind, that great good will that you have borne unto me and mine, since the time of my first acquaintance with you: except I should be to forgetful and ungrateful, I must remember you, and be as thankful, as my poor ability will serve. But the worm of good will still gnawing my mind thereto at last, all dainty meats and viands set aside, which are common remembrances, yet vain and soon forgot, but while they are a eating. There came unto my hand a Scottish Pamphlet, of the Fabulous Tales of Esope, a work, sir as I think, in that language wherein it was written, very eloquent and full of great invention. And no doubt you shall find some smatch thereof, although very rudely I have obscured the Author, and having two years since turned it into English, I have kept it unpublished, hoping some else of greater skill would not have let it lain dead. But whether most men have that nation in derision for their hollow hearts and ungrateful minds to this country always had (a people very subject to that infection) or thinking scorn of the Author or first inventor, let it pass, as frivolous and vain matter: yet in my conceit there is learning for all sorts of people worthy the memory. Therefore knowing not how by any means to let you understand my good will toward you, but by this means, at last putting all fear aside, I boldly present this unto your worship, hoping that at vacant time when other matters of great importance be laid aside, that you will not deign to recreate your mind with this trifle, where you shall find doctrine both pleasant and profitable, and hoping as often as you look on this book you will think on me, accept this poor Persian water or Iewes mite, which in so doing I care not for all the scoffers and taunters, which will do naught themselves nor suffer others to do that may pleasure or profit the posterity. I crave of God to increase you with worldly Worship to his pleasure.  
Yours at commandment Richard Smith.   

The argument between Esope and the Translator.  

LAte passing thorough Paul's Churchyard,  
aside I cast mine eye,  
And ere I witted, to me appeared  
Sir Esope by and by,   

appareled both brave and fine,  
after the Scottish guise,  
I stood then still with ardent eyen,  
I viewed him twice or thrice.   

Behold quoth he, now am I here,  
and feign would meet some one,  
To speak English that would me leare.  
with that quoth I anon:   

Why English Sir, you speak right well,  
what more would you require?  
Yea that's in prose: my tales to tell  
in verse I do desire.   

Alas I am not for your turn,  
ye must repair unto  
The Inns of Court and Chancery,  
where learned have to do.   

At Helicon I never came,  
the way I do not know,  
(God Pan his servant sir I am,  
and duty to him owe.)   

On oaten pipe we still do play,  
that's all that he teach can,  
Of other lore he takes no way  
this Growtnole rustic Pan.   

Minerva's imps they Orpheus keep,  
in Music they delight,  
To serve your turn before they sleep,  
in verse to make you dite,   

Your Fables wise and eloquent,  
with phrases feat and fine,  
Endued with Apollo gent,  
that passeth Muse of mine.   

Content yourself quoth Esope than,  
do thus much once for me,  
To learn me verse so as ye can,  
myself as plain as ye.   

They do not care for Scottish books,  
they list not look that way:  
But if they would but cast their looks,  
some time when they do play,   

Somewhat to see perhaps they might,  
that then would like them well,  
To teach them tread their way aright,  
to bliss, from pains of hell.   

Farewell good Phrygian Poet now,  
I may no more sojourn,  
(If not saith Esope) then adieu,  
Int Scotland I'll return.   

Nay rather will I venture hard  
and bring your mind to pass,  
If that I gain to my reward  
King Midas ears of Ass,   

And have a thousand ill reports  
still tumbling down on me,  
Than this to want unto all sorts  
and view of every eye.   

Therefore have here good reader now,  
my rural skilless skill,  
I ask no more but this of you,  
one inch of your good will,  
Which it to grant as I do crave,  
that's even as much as I would have.   

Orpheus' once did walk abroad,  
'mong fragrant flowers tencreace his glet,  
To set his harp in one accord,  
in tune to make his strings agreed,  
Whereby was heard such pleasant sound,  
that all the woods thereof rebound.   

And playing thus in pleasant shade,  
wild beasts and men to him did come:  
With music straight them stones he made,  
his gift was such, them to transform:  
He fell a sleep, and or he woke,  
in hand a while his harp I took.   

This Scottish Orpheus I mean,  
that Esop's tales hath made to 'gree  
In Rhetoric both trim and clean,  
that all my wits bereft hath he:  
His harp alas I make to jar,  
and both his name and mine do mar.  
But since I made them disagree,  
leave me the blame the Laurel he.   
FINIS.   

▪ The Contents of the Book.  


1 THe tale of the grossehead Chauntclere the cock, and the precious stone: wherein is showed the wanton lives of Lascivious maids, with the little care we have of the precious gifts of God. Fol. 3  
2 The tale of the plain country mouse and dainty town mouse, wherein is displayed our dainty citizens wives, which can keep themselves in no mediocrity. Fol. 7  
3 A pleasant tale of the Cock and the Fox, how wily beguiles himself, wherein is to be seen the life of the crafty circumucritours of the simple men, and yet some time how they meet with their match. Fol. 16  
4 The pleasant tale how this false dissembling Tod made his confession to the hypocrite friar, Wolf wait scathe, that showeth the great hypocrisy of the Popish prelacy. Fol. 24  
5 The Rhetorical tale of the son & heir of the foresaid Tod or Fox, called father wars, also the parliament of beasts holden by the Lion, which showeth our duty at all assemblies commanded by our Prince or superiors, & how we aught to behave ourselves. 31  
6 The woeful tale of the plaintiff dog, against the poor sheep before justice Wolf, notably showing the abuses of such Courts where money & might maketh the poor to beg. Fol. 44  
A tale of the Lion & the Mouse, with the authors prologue before, showing what reverence we own to our Prince's person, yea though he be dead, and how we aught to venture our lives to do them good. 51  
8 The notable tale of the preaching of the Swallow, containing the office of a preacher and how they aught to warn us of Satan his traps, jest we be catched in his net. Fol. 62  
9 The merry tale of the Wolf that sayne would have had the neckeherring or Salmon, through the wiles of the Fox that beguiled the carrier, and of their hard adventures. Fol. 73  
10 The excellent tale of the wily Laurence Fox that beguiled the covetous crafty Wolf, where is showed deep dissembling friendship, & how bribery beareth sway. 86  
11 The merry tale of the Wolf and the Wether, where is painted out the lusty bloods, come up of low degree by unlawful means, and apparclling themselves in their bravery, will give no place to their betters. 94  
12 The woeful tale of the cruel Wolf and the innocent Lamb, laying before our sight the blood thirsty tyrants and oppressors of poor helpless men. Fol. 101  
13 The tale of the woeful end of the paddock and the Mouse, showing the well deserved end of the hollow hearted dissemblers, and how God in the end doth requited them. Fol. 107    
Lastly the translators Epilogue, showing that in a deformed creature God may and will set forth his glory.   

¶ The Argument or Prologue.  

THough feigned Fables of ancient poetry,  
Be not all grounded upon truth (what then)  
Their politic terms in sweet Rethory  
Right pleasant are unto the ear of man,  
And eke the cause that they first began,  
Was to reprove the hole misliving,  
(Of man) by figure of some other thing.   

In like manner through the boisterous earth,  
(So it be laboured with great diligence)  
Spring's flowers and corn to our great mirth,  
Wholesome and good to man's sustenance.  
So doth spring, some moral sweet sentence,  
Out of the subtle dyte of Poetry:  
To good purpose, who can it well apply.   

The nuts shell though it be hard and tough,  
Holds the kernel which is most delectable.  
(So lies their doctrine wise enough,  
And full of fruit, under a feigned fable.)  
And wise men says, it is right profitable,  
Amongs earnest, to mingle merry sport,  
To recreate the sprite, and make the time be short.   

Further, the bow that is aye bend,  
Seems unsmart and dui on the string,  
So doth the mind that is aye diligent,  
In earnest thoughts and great studying,  
With sad matters some myrrinesse to ming.  
Accords well thus Esope said iwis,  
Dulcius arrident s●ria picta locis.   

Of this author my masters with your leave,  
Submitting me to your correction:  
In mother tongue, out of Latin to prove  
To make some manner of translation,  
Naught of myself, for vain presumption,  
But by request, and precept of a Lord,  
Of whom the name I need not record.   

In homely language and in terms rude,  
I needs must write: for why of Eloquence,  
Nor Rhetoric, I never understood.  
Therefore meekly I pray your reverence,  
If that ye find through my negligence,  
To be lacking, or else superfluous,  
Correct it at your wills gracious.   

My Author in his Fables tells how  
That brutal beasts spoke and understood,  
And to good purpose dispute and argue.  
And syllogism propone and eke conclude,  
Put in example, and in similitude,  
How many men in operation,  
Are like to beasts in condition.   

No marvel then, though man be like a beast,  
Which loves aye carnal and foul delight,  
That shame cannot him pluck back nor arrest,  
But takes all his lust and appetite,  
And that thorough custom and daily rite,  
Sin in their minds is so fast rooted,  
That they into brutal beasts are transformed.   

This noble clerk Esope, as I have told,  
With great invention, as poet Laureate,  
By figure wrote his book: for he naught would  
Lack the disdain of high, nor low estate.  
And to begin, first of a Cock he wrote,  
Seeking his meat, which fond a precious stone,  
Of whom the Fable ye shall hear anon.   
FINIS.   

The tale of the Grosehead chaunteleare the Cock, and precious Stone.  

A Cock sometime with feathers fresh and gay  
Right cant and crows, albeit he was but poor,  
Flew forth on dunghill early on a day,  
To get his dinner, set was all his cure.  
Scraping the muck, there by adventure,  
He found a jasper stone, right precious,  
Was casten forth by sweeping of the house.   

As damosels wanton and insolent,  
That feign would play, and on the street be seen,  
To sweeping of the house they take no tent  
They care nothing so the floor be clean,  
jewels are lost, as sometime hath been seen  
Upon the floor, and so swept forth anon,  
Peradventure so was this precious stone.   

So marveling upon this stone (quoth he)  
O gentle jasp: O rich and noble thing,  
Though I thee find, yet art thou not for me,  
Thou art a jewel for a Lord or King.  
Pity it were thou should lie in this midding,  
Be buried this amongs this muck and mould  
And thou so fair and worth so much gold.   

It is pity I should thee find, for why?  
Thy great virtue nor yet thy colour clear,  
It may me nother extol, nor magnify:  
And thou to me may make but little cheer,  
To great Lords though thou be lief and dear,  
I love far better things of less avail  
As draf or Corn to fill my tuine intrayle.   

I had liefer go scrape here with my nails,  
Amongs this muck and look my lives food,  
As draf, or corn, small worms, or snails,  
Or any meat would do my stomach good:  
Than of jasper stones a mighty multitude.  
And thou again upon the same wise,  
For less avail thou may me now despise.   

Thou hast no corn: and thereof have I need,  
Thy colour doth but comfort to the sight.  
And that is not enough my womb to feed,  
(For the wise says) looking things are light.  
I would have some meat, get it if I might.  
For hungry men may not live on looks:  
Had I dry bread, I count not for no cooks.   

Where should thou make thy habitation?  
Where should thou devil but in a royal tour?  
Where should thou sit but on a king's corone,  
Exalted in worship and in great honour?  
Rise gentle jasp, of all stones the flower,  
Out of this dunghill and pass where thou should be  
Thou cares not for me, nor I for thee.   

Leving this jewel lo upon the ground,  
To seek his meat this Cock his ways went,  
But when or how, or by whom it was found,  
As now I set to hold no argument.  
But of the inward sentence, and intent:  
Of this (as mine Author here doth wright)  
I shall rehearse in rude and homely dite.   

This precious jasp, had properties seven,  
The first, of colour it was marvelous:  
part like the fire, and part like the heaven,  
It makes a man stout and victorious,  
Preserves also, from chances perilous.  
Who hath this stone, shall have good hap to speed,  
Nor fire, nor water, he needeth not to dread.   

The Moral.  

THis gentle jasp right different of hue  
Betokenith perfect prudence and cunning,  
Ornate with many deeds of virtue,  
Moore excellent, than any earthly thing  
Which makes men in honour for to ring,  
Happy and stout to win the victory,  
Of all vices and spiritual enmity.   

Who may be hardy, rich, and gracious?  
Who can eschew peril and adventure?  
Who can govern a Realm, City or House,  
Without science, no man I you assure?  
It is riches, that ever shall endure,  
Which moth, nor moist, nor other rust can fret,  
To man's soul it is eternal meat.   

This Cock desireth more the simple corn,  
Than any jaspe, (may till a fool be peer)  
Which at science makes a mock or scorn,  
And no good can, as little will he leare:  
His heart wambles wise argument to hear,  
As doth a Sow, to whom men for the nonce,  
Into her draff would throw some precious stones.   

Who is enemy to science and cunning,  
But ignorance that understandeth naught?  
Which is so noble, so precious and so dign,  
That it may not with earthly thing be bought:  
Well were that man of all other that might  
All his life days in perfect study spend,  
To get Science, to keep him till his end.   

But now (alas) that stone is lost and hide,  
We seek it not, nor press it not to find,  
Have we riches, no better life we bide:  
Of Science though the soul be bore and blind,  
Of this matter to speak, it were but wind.  
Therefore I cease, and will no further say,  
(Go seek the jasp, who will, for there it lay).     

¶ The pretty tale of the plain country Mouse, and dainty town Mouse.  

ESope mine Author maketh mention  
Of two mice, and they were sisters dear,  
Of whom theldest dwelled in a City or Town:  
The other dwelt in the country there near,  
Solitary under bush, sometime under briar:  
Now in the corn, now in other men's food,  
As thieves do, that live by others good.   

This rural Mouse, in the winter tide  
Had hunger, and cold, and also great distress,  
The other Mouse that in the town can bide,  
Was a sworn brother and made a free Burges,  
And had all things toll free, by custom more or less,  
And freedom had to go where ever she list,  
Amongs the cheese in rack, and meal in chest.   

One time when she was full, and longed sore,  
It came in mind, her sister for to see,  
And where she dwelled, and how her life she bore,  
And how she fared, under the root of tree:  
Bore foot alone, with staff so goeth she.  
As poor pilgrim, she passeth out of town,  
To seek her sister, both o'er dale and down.   

Forth many crooked ways, can she walk,  
Throw moss and moor, throw bank, bush & briar,  
Thus ran she crying, while she came till a baulk,  
Come forth to me quoth she, mine own sister deart  
Cry peep Anis, with that the Mouse could hear,  
And knew her voice, as kinswomen will do,  
By very kind, and forth she came her to.   

The hearty joy (O God) if you had seen,  
Between these two sisters, when they met,  
And great love was shown them between,  
For whiles they laugh, and whiles for joy they wept,  
Somewhiles kissing sweet, somewhiles in arms replet  
And thus they far, while soberd was there mood,  
So foot for foot, unto the chamber yoode.   

As I hard say, hit was a simple one,  
Of fog and serve full feebly was made,  
A homely thing, over a steadfast stone,  
Of which th'entry, was not high nor broad,  
And in they went, withouten more abode,  
Without fire or candle, burning bright,  
For commonly, such pickers loves no light.   

When they wear lodged thus, these silly mice,  
The youngest sister into her buttery glyd,  
And brought forth nuts and corn in steed of spice,  
If this wear good I ask you here beside,  
The town Mouse, promped forth in pride,  
And said sister, is this your daily food?  
Why not (quoth she) is not this meat right good?   

Nay by my soul I take it but in scorn,  
Madam (quoth she) ye be the more to blame,  
My mother said sister, when we were borne,  
That I and ye lay both within on wame,  
I keep the rate and custom of my Dame,  
And always lives, thus in poverty,  
For lands have we none in property.   

My fair sister (quoth she) have me excused,  
This rude diet and I cannot accord,  
To tender meat my stomach is aye used,  
For whiles I far aswell as any Lord,  
These withered pease, and nuts or they be board,  
Will break my teeth, & make my womb full slender,  
Which was before used to meats so tender.   

Well well sister, (quoth the country mouse,)  
If it please you such things as ye see there,  
Both meat and drink, my lodging and house,  
shallbe your own whiles ye remaynen hear.  
You shall it have with mirth and merry cheer,  
And that should make the meases that are rude,  
Among friends, right tender and wonders good.   

What pleasure is, in feasts delicate,  
The which are given with a lowering brow?  
A gentle heart is better recreate,  
With hearty mind, than set to him a cow.  
A modicum, is more for to allow,  
So that good will be carver at the dease,  
Than costly fair and many spiced mess.   

For all her good will, and merry exhortation  
This Burges mouse had little lust to sing,  
But heavily she cast her brows a down,  
For all the dainties that she could her bring:  
Yet at the last, she said half in scorning,  
Sister this victual, and your royal feast,  
May well suffice unto a rural jest.   

Let alone this hole, and come now me after,  
And I shall to you show by experience,  
That my good Friday is better than your Ester,  
My dish licks, is worth your hole expense,  
I have houses more, of great defence,  
Of Cat nor trap, iwis I have no dread:  
I grant, quoth she, and on together yeede.   

In stubble array thorough grass and corn:  
And under bushes privily can they creep,  
Theldest was the guide and went before,  
The younger to her ways took good keep:  
On night they ran, and on the day can sleep,  
And early in the morning, ere they blind,  
They found the town, and merrily went in.   

Not far fro thence into a fair place,  
This Burges brought them soon where they should be,  
Without God speed, their lodging there they hast,  
Into a expense with victall great plenty,  
Both cheese and butter upon the shelves hie,  
And flesh and fish enough, both fresh and salt,  
And sacks full of meal and eke of malt.   

After, when they were disposed to dine,  
Without grace they wash, and went to meat.  
With all courses that Cooks could devise,  
As Mutton and Beef laid in chardgers great:  
Yea Lords far thus could they counterfeit,  
Except one thing, they drank the water clear,  
In steed of wine, but yet they made good cheer.   

With face up cast and merry countenance,  
The eldest sister spoke unto her gest,  
If that she by reason, fond difference  
Betwixt that chamber and her sorry nest:  
Yea dame (quoth she) how long will this jest?  
For evermore I wot, and longer to,  
If it be so, ye are at case (quoth shoe).   

To all this cheer a banquet forth she brought,  
A plate of groats and a dish of meal,  
oat cakes also I trow, she spared naught,  
Abundantly about her for to deal.  
And manfully so, she brought in steed of geill,  
A white candle, out of a coffer stolen,  
In steed of spice to taste their mouths withal.   

This made they merry while they might no more,  
All hail all hail, cried she on high,  
Yet after joy often times comes matter sore,  
And trouble after great prosperity:  
Thus as they sat in all their jollity  
The spencer comes, with keys in his hand,  
Opened the door and them at dinner found.   

They tarried not to wash as I suppose,  
But on to go who that might foremost win,  
The town mouse had an hole and in she goes,  
Her sister had no hole to hide her in,  
To see that silly mouse it were great sin  
So desolate there and hard bestead,  
For very dread she fell in fowne near dead.   

But as God would it fell an happy case,  
The Spencer had no leisure for to bide,  
Nother to seek nor search to ●●ere ne chase,  
But on he went and left the door up wide?  
This bold Burges this passing well hath spied,  
Out of her hole she came and cried on high:  
How far ye sister cry peep where ere ye be.   

This rural mouse, lay flatling on the ground,  
For fear of death she was full sore dredand.  
For to her heart struck many woeful sound,  
As in a fever she trimbled foot and hand,  
And when her sister in such plight her found,  
For very pity she began to weep:  
So comforted her with words honey and sweet.   

Why lie ye thus rise up my sister dear?  
Come to your meat this peril is o'erpast,  
The other answered her with heavy cheer,  
I may not eat, so sore I am aghast,  
I had liefer this forty days to fast,  
With water porridge, and to gnaw beans or pease,  
Than all your feast in this dread and disease.   

With fair treaty yet she made her rise,  
And to the board they went, and together sat,  
And scantly had they drunken once or twice,  
When in came Gib hunter, our jolly Cat  
And bad Godspeede, the Burges up with that,  
And till her hole she went as fire of flint,  
But Gilbert the other by the back has hint.   

From foot to foot he cast her so with pushes,  
Now up now down, now suffer her to creep  
Now would he let her run under the rushes  
Now would he wink and play with her bo peep  
Thus to the silly mouse he did pains great:  
Whiles at the last thorough fortune and good hap,  
Betwixt a board and the wall she crap.   

And up in haste behind the cloth painted,  
She clam so high that Gilbert might not get her  
There by the cludges craftily she hanged,  
Till he was gone, her cheer was all the better,  
So down she lap when there was none to let her,  
And to the Burges mouse loud can she cry,  
Far well fair sister thy feasts here I defy.   

Thy feastings are filled all with care,  
Thy guise is good, th'end is sour as gall  
The subchardge of thy services is fair fare,  
So that thou find hereafter ward no fall  
I thank you curtains, and you purple wall,  
Of my defence, now from you cruel beast,  
Almighty God keep me fro such another feast.   

Were I into the cabin, that I came fro,  
For weal nor woe should I near come again.  
With that she took her leave, and forth can go,  
Sometimes throw that corn & sometimes throw the pla●  
When she was forth and free she was full fain:  
And merely marched unto the moor,  
I cannot tell how there she eight.   

But I heard say she passed to her den,  
As warm as will, suppose it was not great,  
Full well stuffed at each side and end  
With beans, and nuts, pease, rye, and wheat:  
When ever she lust she had enough to eat,  
In quiet and rest, without any dread,  
But to her sister's feast, no more she yead.   

Morality.  

Friends, ye may find and ye will take heed,  
In this Fable a good Morality:  
As fitches' mingled are with noble seed,  
So intermingled is adversity  
With earthly joy, so that no state is free  
Without trouble and some vexation,  
As namely they which climb up most high,  
That are not content with small possession.   

Blessed be the simple life without dread,  
Blessed be sober feast in quietie:  
Who hath enough, of no more hath he need,  
Though that it be little in quantity:  
Great abundance and blind prosperity,  
Oft-times makes an evil conclusion:  
The sweetest life therefore in this country,  
Is a contented mind with small possession.   

O wanton man, that usest for to feed  
Thy womb and makes it a God to be,  
Like to thyself, I warn thee weal to dread,  
The Cat comes, and to the mouse hies he,  
What avails than thy feast and royalty,  
With dreadful heart and tribulation?  
Best thing in earth, therefore I say for me,  
Is content in heart, with small possession.   

Thy own fire is best my friend; if thou take heed,  
It warms well, and is worth gold to thee:  
And Solomon saith, if that thou wilt reed  
Under the Heaven there cannot better be,  
Then for to be merry, and live in honesty.  
Wherefore I may conclude by this reason,  
Of earthly joy it is the best degree,  
A heart contented with small possession.    
FINIS.   

The pleasant tale of the Coc● and the Fox how wily beguyles himself.  

THough brutal beasts be irrational,  
That is to say wanting discretion,  
Yet every man in their kind natural,  
Hath many and divers inclination.  
The boisterous Bear, the Wolf, the wild Lion:  
The Fox feigning, crafty, and cautelous:  
The dog to bark on nights and keep the house.   

So different they are in properties,  
Unknown to man and so infinite,  
In kind having so fell diversities,  
My cunning is excluded for to indite.  
Of them as now I purpose not to write  
A case I found which fell this other day,  
Betwixt a Fox and a Cock full gay.   

A widow dwelled in a cottage many days,  
Which ernd her food with spinning on her rock,  
And no more had forsooth, as the Fable says,  
Except of hens she had a little flock,  
And them to keep she had a jolly Cock:  
Right courageous, that to this widow aye,  
Divided the night, and crowd before the day.   

A little from this foresaid widows house,  
A thorny thicket there was of great defence,  
Wherein a Fox crafty and cautelous,  
Made his abode and daily residence,  
Which to this widow did great violence,  
In picking of pultry both day and night,  
And no way be revenged on him she might.   

This wily Fox when that the Larcke could sing,  
Full sore hungry until the town him dressed,  
Where this lusty Cock in the grey morning,  
Weary of night was flown fro his nest,  
Laurence this saw, and in his mind kest  
The jeopardy, the ways, and the wile,  
By what means he might the Cock beguile.   

Dissimuling in countenance and cheer,  
On knees fell, and flattering thus he said:  
Good morn my master gentle Chauntcleere.  
With that the Cock start backward in abraid:  
Sir by my soul ye need not be afraid,  
Nor yet for me to start nor flee aback,  
For I come hither service to you to make.   

Would I not serve you, I were to blame,  
As I have done to your progenitor:  
Your father full often filled hath my wame,  
And sent me meat from dunghill to the moor,  
And at his end I did my busy cure  
To hold his head and give him drinks warm,  
So at the last he sounded in my arm.   

Known ye my Father (quoth the Cock) and lough,  
Yea my fair Son, I held up his head,  
When that he died under a birchen bongh.  
And said the Diridge when that he was dead:  
Betwixt us two how should there be any fead?  
Whom should ye trust but me your servitor,  
That to your Father did so great honour?   

When I beheld your feathers fair and gent,  
Your beak, your breast, your hekell and your ●ome,  
Sir by my soul and the blessed Sacrament,  
My heart is warm, me thinks I am at home:  
To make you merry I would creep on my wome,  
In frost and snow, in weather wan and neat,  
And lay my golden locks under your feet.   

This feigned Fox false and dissimulate,  
Made to this Cock a crafty cavillation:  
Ye are me thinks changed and degenerate,  
From your Father of his condition,  
Of crafty crowing he might bear the crown:  
For he would on his toes slande and craw,  
This was no lie, I stood beside and saw.   

With that the Cock upon his toes high,  
Kest up his book, and sang with all his might,  
Quoth sir Laurence well said so moat I thee,  
Ye are your father's Son and heir upright:  
But of his cunning yet ye want one slight,  
For (quoth the Tod) he would withouten doubt,  
Both wink, and crow, & turn him thrice about.   

The Cock infect with wind and false vayneglore,  
That many puts unto confusion,  
Trusting to win great worship therefore,  
unwarely winked walking up and down,  
And so to sing and crow he made him boon:  
And suddenly by he had crown a note,  
The Fox was ware, and catched him by the throat.   

So to the wood without tarrying he hi●d,  
Of that crime having but little doubt,  
With that Pertoke, Spratoke, and Toppoke cried.  
The widow heard; and with a cry came out,  
seeing the case, she sight and gave a shout.  
With how murderer hay, and gave her door a knock,  
Saying now alas, lost is my gentle Cock.   

As she were wood with many yell and cry,  
Pulling her hear, upon her breast can beat,  
So pale of hue half in an ecstasy,  
Fallen down for care in swooning and in sweat:  
With that the silly hens left their meat,  
And whilst their dame lay thus in sown,  
They all fell into disputation.   

Alas (quoth Pertok) making sore moaning,  
With tears great, which down her cheeks fell,  
Yonder was our le●man and our days darling,  
Our Nightingale, and our morning bell,  
Our walking watch us for to warn and tell,  
When that Aurora with her coursers grey,  
Put up her head betwixt the night and day.   

Who shall our leman be? who shall us lead?  
When we are sad, who shall unto us sing?  
With his sweet bill, he would break us the bread,  
In all this world there was no kinder thing,  
In paramory he would do us pleasing,  
To his power as nature did him give:  
Now after him alas, how shall we live?   

Quoth Sprucock then, cease sister of your sorrow,  
You be to mad such mourning for to gloze,  
We shall speed well I find S. john to borrow:  
The Proverb says, as good loves comes as goes,  
I will put on my holiday clotheses,  
And make me fresh against this jolly May,  
So sing this song, was never widow so gay.   

He was angry, and held us aye in awe,  
And wounded with the spear of jealousy,  
Of chamber glue Pertoke, full well ye know,  
Wasted he was, of nature cold and dry.  
Since he is gone, therefore sister say I,  
Put care away, for that is best remead,  
Let quick to quick, and dead go to the dead.   

Then Pertoke spoke, with feigned faith before,  
In lust without love he set all his delight:  
Sister ye wot, of such as him a score,  
Would not suffice to slake our appetite,  
I hold here my hand since he is quite,  
Within a mile for shame and I durst speak,  
To get a lad should better claw our breeke.   

Than Toppok like a priest spoke full crous,  
You was a very vengeance from the heaven,  
He was so louse and so lecherous.  
He had (quoth she) Kittoks more than seven:  
But righteous God holding the balance even,  
Smites right sore though he be patiented,  
For adultery, that will them not repent.   

Full of pride he was, and joyed in his sin,  
And counted not for God's favour nor faith,  
But trusted all to riot and so did rinne:  
While at last his sins can him skayth,  
To shameful end, and to you sodden death.  
Therefore it is the very hand of God,  
That causeth him, be wearied with the Tod.   

When this was said, this widow from her sown,  
start up on foot and on the dogs she cried,  
How bercke, berry, bowsie, brown,  
Ripe shaw, run well, courteous, nutticlyde,  
Together all without grudging see ye speed,  
Rescue my noble Cock or he be slain,  
Or else to me, see ye come never again.   

Withouten more for fear of being shent,  
As fire of flint over the fields flaw,  
Full swiftly thorough woods and waters went,  
And ceased not sir Laurence till they saw:  
But when he saw the hounds ●om● on a raw,  
Unto the Cock in mind he said God sen,  
That I and thou were present in my den.   

Then said the Cock with some good spirit ●nspirit,  
Do my counsel, and I shall warrant they:  
Hungry thou art, and for great travail tired,  
Right faint of force, and may not further flee:  
Quickly turn again, and say that I and yet,  
Friends are made, and fellows for a year,  
Then will they stint, I'll stand between ye here.   

Thus Tod though he was false and frivolous,  
And had craft his quarrel to defend,  
deceived was by means right marvelous,  
For wily beguiles himself at the latter end:  
He start aback and cried as he was learned,  
With that the Cock flew up into a tree,  
Now whether sir Laurence laugh or no judge ye.   

Beguiled thus the Tod under the tree,  
On knees fell, and said good Chaunteclere:  
Come down again, and without meat or fee,  
I'll be your man, and serve you for a year.  
Not false thief and rover, stand not me near.  
My bloody comb and my neck so sore,  
Hath parted friendship, twixt us for evermore.   

I was unwise that winked at thy will,  
Where thorough almost I loosed had my head,  
I was more fool (quoth he) to be so still,  
Where thorough to put my prey now into pled.  
Away false thief, God keep me fro thy fead.  
With that the Cock over the fields took flight,  
And in at the widows window could he light.   

Morality.  

NOw worthy folk, suppose this be a Fable,  
And overheled with types fugerall,  
Yet may ye find some sentence right agreeable,  
Under these feigned terms textual.  
To our purpose this Cock well may we call,  
Nice proud men, void and vain glorious,  
Of kin and blood, which are presumptuous.   

Fie puffed up pride, thou art full poisonable,  
Who favoureth thee of force must have a fall,  
Thy strength is naught, thy stool stands unstable.  
Take witness of the fiends infernal,  
Which thrown down were from the heavenvly hall  
To Hell's hole and to that hideous house,  
Because in pride, they were presumptuous.   

This feigned Fox may well be figurate,  
To flatterers with pleasant words white,  
With false meaning and mind most toxicate,  
To gloze and lie, that sets their whole delight,  
All worthy folk, at such should have despite.  
For where is there more perilous pestilence,  
Than give to liars hasty credence.   

The wicked mind and adulation,  
Of these sweet suckers having the similitude,  
Are bitter as gall, and full of poison,  
To taste it is, who clearly understood:  
For this as now shortly to conclude,  
These two sins, flattery and vaineglore,  
(Are perilous) good folk flee them therefore.    
FINIS.   

¶ The pleasant tale how this false dissembling Tod, made his confession to the hypocrite friar Wolf, Waytskayth.  

Leaving this widow glad I you assure,  
Of Chauntclere more jocund than I can tell:  
And speak we of the subtle adventure,  
And destinit that to this Fox befell,  
Which durst no more with waiting intermell,  
As long as leam or light was of the day,  
But biding night full still lurking he lay.   

While that the Goddosse of the flood,  
Phoebus had called to the harbery,  
And Hesperus put up his cloudy hood,  
Showing his iusty visage in the sky.  
Then Laurence looked up where he did lie,  
And cast his hand upon his eye on height,  
Merry and glad that come was the night.   

Out of the wood unto a hill he went,  
Where he might see the twinekling stars cle●re,  
And all the Planets of the firmament,  
Their course and eke their moving in the sphere:  
Some Retrograde, and some Stationere:  
And of the Zodiac in what degree,  
They were each one as Laurence learned me.   

Then Saturn old was entered in Capricorn,  
And jupiter moved in sagittary,  
And Mars in the Ram's head was borne,  
And Phoebus in the Lion forth can carry,  
Venus the Crab, the moon was in aquary,  
Mercury the God of Eloquence,  
Into the Virgin made his residence.   

Without Astrolab, Quadrant, or Almanac,  
Taught of nature by instruction,  
The moving of the heaven this Tod can take,  
What influence and constellation,  
Was like to fall upon the earth adown.  
And to himself he said this one thing,  
God have me Father that set me to learning.   

My destiny and eke my death is known,  
My adventure is clearly to me kend,  
With mischief mortal men are overthrown,  
My missyning the sooner but if I mend,  
It is reward of sin, a shameful end.  
Therefore I will go seek some confessor,  
And shrive me clean of my sins to this hour.   

And (quoth he) right fearful are we thieves,  
Our lives be each night in adventure,  
Our cursed craft full many men mischiefs:  
For ever we steal, and over are like poor,  
In dread and shame our days we endure.  
Still hunting after mischief at every beck,  
Till at last for our hire we are hanged by the neck.   

Accursing thus his cankered conscience,  
On top of a crag he cast about his eye,  
And saw coming a little from thence,  
A worthy Doctor in divinity,  
Friar Wolf Waytskayth, in science wonders sly,  
To preach and pray was comen from the closter,  
With heads in hand, saying his Pater noster.   

Seeing this Wolf this wily traitor Tod,  
On knees fell with hood into his neck,  
Welcome my ghostly father under God,  
(Quoth he) with many bow, and many beck,  
Ha' (quoth the Wolf) si● Tod for what effect,  
Make ye such moan, rise up on your foet?  
Father, quoth he, I have great cause to do't.   

You are Mirror, Lantern, and lively way,  
To guide such simple men as me to grace,  
Your barefeetes, and your u●sse●●●nle of grey.  
Your lean cheeks, your pale pit●ous face,  
Which shows to me your perfect holiness,  
For well were him that once in his liue,  
Had hap to you, his sins for to shrine.   

Nay silly Laurence (quoth the Wolf) and lough,  
It pleaseth me that ye are penitent.  
Of theft and flouth, sir I can tell enough,  
That causeth me full sore for to repent:  
But Father bide still here upon the bent,  
I you beseech, and hear me to deplore,  
My guilty conscience that pricks me so sore.   

Well, quoth the Wolf, sit down upon thy knee,  
And he down barehead sat full humbly,  
And so began with Benedicitee.  
When I this saw I drew a little by,  
For it is no good manners to hear nor spy,  
Nor to reveal things said under that seal,  
Yet to the Tods conscience, the Wolf did thus appeal   

Art thou contrite and sorry in thy sprite,  
For thy trespass? nay sir I cannot do't,  
My thinks that hens are so honey sweet,  
And lambs flesh that new are let blood,  
For to repent my mind cannot conclude:  
But of this thing, that I have slain so few,  
Well, quoth the Wolf, in saith thou art a shrew.   

Since thou cannot forethink thy wickedness,  
Will't thou forbear in time to come and mend?  
And I forbear, how should I live alas?  
Having no other craft me to defend,  
Need causeth me to steal where ever I wend:  
I shame to beg, and work I ne can,  
Yet would I fayne, pretend a Gentleman.   

Well (quoth the Wolf) thou wants points two,  
That belong to perfect confession:  
To the third part of penitence let us go.  
Will't thou take pains for thy transgression?  
Nay sir, consider my complexion,  
Sielly and weak, and of my nature tender,  
Lo, will ye see, I am both leave and slender.   

Yet nevertheless I would so it were light,  
Short and not grieving to my tenderness,  
Take part of pain, fulfil it if I might,  
To set my silly soul in way of grace:  
Thou shalt (quoth he) forbear flesh until Pase,  
To tame thy corpse that cursed carrion:  
And here I give thee full remission.   

I grant thereto, so ye will give me leave,  
To eat puddings, or lap a little blood,  
Or head, or feet, or paunches let me prove,  
In case I fall no flesh unto my food:  
For great need. I give thee leave good,  
Twice in the week, for need may have no law:  
God thank you sir, for that text well I knaw.   

When this was said, the Wolf his ways went,  
The Fox a foot he goeth unto the flood,  
To get him fish, holily was his intent:  
But when he saw the water and waves wood,  
Astonished all, still in a muse he stood:  
And said, better that I had bidden at hame,  
Nor been a fisher in the devils name.   

Now must I scrape my meat out of the flood,  
And I have nother boots nor yet boat.  
As he was thus for fault of meat near wood,  
Looking about like a wily soat,  
Under a tree he saw a trip of goat,  
Than was he merry, and through the hedge him hid,  
And from the goat, he stolen her little kid.   

So over the hedge unto the water hies,  
And took the kid by the horns twain,  
And in the water either twice or thrice,  
He dowked him, and to him can he say:  
Go down sir kid, come up sir Salmon again.  
While he was dead so to the land him drew,  
And of that new made Salmon he eat enough.   

Thus finely filled with young tender meat,  
Unto a thicket for dread he him addressed,  
Under a bush, where the Sun can beat,  
To beyke his breast and belly he thought best,  
And scorningly, he said, where he did rest,  
Stroking his womb against the suns heat,  
Upon this belly, what if a bolt should beat?   

When this was said, the keeper of the gayt,  
Careful in heart, his kid was stolen away,  
On every side full warily could he wait,  
Till at the last he saw where Laurence lay:  
A bow he bent, an arrow with feathers grey,  
He drew to the head, and or he stearth,  
The Fox he pricketh fast unto the earth.   

Now, quoth the Fox, alas and well away,  
Gored I am and may no further go,  
methinks no man may speak a word in play,  
But now adays in earnest it's turned so,  
He took him and his arrow drew him fro.  
And for his Kid and other violence,  
He took his skin and made a recompense.   

Morality.  

THis sudden death, and unprovided end,  
Of this false Tod without provision,  
Example is, exhorting folk to amend,  
For dread of such and like confusion.  
For many now hath good profession.  
Yet not repentes, nor for their sins weep,  
Because they think their lusty life so sweet.   

Some been also thorough consueted and rite,  
Vanquished with carnal sensuality,  
Suppose they be as for the time contrite,  
Can not forbear, nor fro their sins flee:  
Use draws nature so in property,  
Of beast and man, that needs they must do,  
As they of long time have been used thereto.   

Beware good folks, and fear this sudden shoot,  
Which smites sort without any resistance,  
Attend wisely, and in your hearts note,  
Against death may no man make defence:  
Cease off your sin, remorse your conscience,  
Obey unto your God and ye shall wend,  
After your death, to bliss withouten end.    
FINIS.   

The rhetorical tale of the son and heir of the foresaid Fox called Father Wars, also the Parliament of four footed beasts, holden by the Lyon.  

THis foresaid Fox, that died for his misdeed,  
Had not one Son was gotten righteously,  
To be heir by law that might succeed,  
Except one Son which in adultery,  
He gotten had by purchase privily:  
And he gave him to name father worst,  
That loud well pultry although he were cursed.   

It follows still by reason natural,  
As degree by degree, of right comparison:  
Of evil comes worse: of worse comes worst of all:  
Of wrongful getting comes false succession.  
This Fox bastard of generation,  
Of very kind behoved to be false,  
So was his Father and his Grandsire als.   

As natural seeking his meat by scent,  
By chance he found his father's carrion,  
Naked, new slain, and to him as he went,  
took up his head, and on his knees fell downne,  
Thanking the Gods of that conclusion.  
And said, now shall I walk since I am heir,  
The bounds where thou were wont to repair.   

Fie covetous, unkind, and venomous:  
The Son was glad he found his father dead,  
By sudden shot for deeds odious,  
That he might reign and rage still in his stead,  
Dreading nothing the same life to lead,  
In theft and robbery, as did his father before,  
But to the end, attended he took no more.   

Yet nevertheless thorough natural pity,  
The Carrion upon his back he taeth,  
Now find I well this Proverb true (quoth he)  
Still runs the Fox, as long as he foot hath,  
So with the corpse unto a pit he gaeth,  
Of water full, and cast him in the deep,  
And to the Devil he gave his bones to keep.   

O foolish man plunged in worldliness,  
To gather gold and other worldly meed,  
To put thy soul in pain and heaviness,  
To rich thine heir which hath but little need:  
Have be thy good once, he takes but small heed,  
To execute, to do, to satisfy,  
Thy latter will, thy debt, and legacy.   

This Tod to rest him, he passed till a crag,  
And there be heard a boisterous horn bloro,  
Which as he thought, made all the world wag:  
At last a Unicorn came running below,  
Then start he up when he this heard and saw,  
With horn in band, a bill on breast he bore,  
The goodliest Pursuivant that erst was seen before.   

Unto a bank where he might see about,  
On every side, in hast he 'gan him high,  
Shot out his voice full shrill and gave a shout,  
And on this wise, twice or thrice did cry:  
With that the beasts in the fields thereby,  
All marveling what such a thing should mean,  
Greatly aghast, they gathered on a green.   

Out of a wood a Bull so 'gan he brayed,  
And red the text withouten tarrying,  
Commanding silence, sadly thus he said:  
The noble Lion, of all beasts the King,  
Greeting to God health everlasting.  
To brutal beasts, and irration all,  
I sand as to my subjects great and small.   

My celsitude, and high magnificence,  
Let you to wit, that even incontinent,  
As to morrow with Royal diligence,  
Upon this hill to hold my Parliament,  
straightly therefore I give commandment,  
For to appear before my tribunal,  
Under all pain that may thereof befall.   

The morrow came, and Phoebus with his beams,  
Consumed had the misty clouds grey,  
The ground was green and as gold it gleams.  
With grass growing goodly great and gay,  
The spice they spread to smell on every spray:  
The Lark, the Mavis, and the Metle full high,  
Sweetly can sing skipping fro tree to tree.   

Two Leopards came with crown of massive gold,  
And so they brought it to the hills height.  
With Jaspers, jonet, and royals Rubies rolled.  
And many divers Diamonds ydight,  
With speaken ropes a pavilion down they pight.  
And there in throne sat a mighty wild Lion,  
In rob Royal, with Sceptre, sword & corone.   

After the tenor of the cry before,  
That all four footed beasts should appear in place,  
Is they commanded were withouten more,  
Before the Lord the mighty Lion's grace,  
And what they were to me, Laurence told apace,  
As I shall rehearse apart of every kind,  
As far as now occurreth to my mind.   

The Minotaur a monster marvelous,  
Bellerophon that beast of bastardy,  
The Warwolf, and the Pegase perilous,  
Transformed by assent of Sorcery:  
The Linx, the Tiger, full of tyranny:  
The Elephant, and eke the Dromedary,  
The Camel with his crane neck, forth can carry.   

The Leopard, as I have told before,  
The Intlop, the Sparth forth can speed,  
The painted Panthor, and the Unicorn.  
The Rayndeer run through river, rush and reed,  
The jolly Jennet, and the gentle steed.  
The Ass, the Mule, the Horse of every kind,  
The Do, the Roe, the horned heart, the Hind.   

The Bull, the Boar, the Bugle, and the Bear,  
The tame Cat, Wildecat, and the wild wood Swine,  
The hardbacke Hedgehog, and pennde Porcupine,  
The crookehorne Goat, the silly Sheep, the Swine,  
The wild Ounce, the Buck, the halting Brock,  
The Fowmart, with the Fybert forth can flock.   

The grey Greyhound with Sleuth hound forth can slide,  
With Dogs all, divers and different,  
The Rat ran, the Glybard forth can glide,  
The piled Polecat, with the weasel went,  
The fine Fycho that hath fur, money vent.  
The Merten, with the Coney, and the Con,  
The Bowrabant, and eke the Lerion.   

The Marmesset the Moule can lead,  
Because that nature denied had her sight,  
Thus dressed they all forth for dread of dead,  
The Musk, the little Mouse with all her might,  
With hast she hied unto that hill of height,  
And many kind of beasts I could not know,  
Before their Lord (the Lion) lowted low.   

Seeing these beasts all at his bidding boun,  
He gave a brayed and looked him about,  
Then flatlings to his feet they fell all down,  
For dread of death, they drouped all in doubt,  
He looked when that he saw them lout,  
And bade them with a countenance full sweet,  
Be not afraid, but stand upon your feet.   

I let you wit my might is merciable,  
And hurts none that are to me prostrate,  
Angry, austerne, and also unamiable,  
To all that stand against my royal state,  
I true of life all beasts that make debate,  
Against the might of my magnificence,  
See none pretend to quarrel in my presence.   

My celsitude, and my high majesty,  
With might, and mercy mingled shall be aye,  
The lowest here I can full soon raise high,  
And make him Master over you all I may.  
The Dromedary if he will make deray,  
The great Camel though he were near so crouse,  
Can bring as low as the little Mouse.   

See that within twenty miles where I am,  
The Kid go fault by the goats side,  
The Tod for his head look not on a Lam,  
Nor no ravening beast, neither run nor ride.  
They couched all after this was cried,  
The justice bade the court for to begin,  
The suits called, and forfeits bring in.   

The Panthor with his painted coat sheen,  
Fenced the court as the law hid,  
Then the Tod lurked back for fear being seen,  
And start back behind one, and so him hid,  
Pulling his bear piteously he cried,  
Quaking for dread, and sighing can he say,  
Alas this hour, alas thus dollfull day.   

I wots this sudden assembly that I see,  
Having the points of a Parliament,  
Is made to mar, such misdoers as me,  
Therefore if I me show I shallbe shent:  
I will therefore go and be absent,  
To bide or flee, I wot not in faith,  
All is a like, there follows naught but death.   

Perplexed thus in heart can he mean,  
Throw falsehood how he might himself defend,  
His hood he drew right o'er his tyne,  
And winking with one tie forth he wend,  
Halting he came that he might not be kend:  
And for dread that he should be arrest,  
He played bo peep behind fro beast to beast.   

O troubled sprite and cankered conscience,  
Before a King raining with righteousness,  
Blushing cheeks, and shameful countenance,  
Farewell thy fame, now gone is all thy grace,  
The Phisnomy, the favour of thy face,  
For thy defence, is foul and disfigurate,  
Brought to the light by these tokens of late.   

Be thou attached with theft or with treason,  
For thy misdeeds, wrongs, and wicked faith,  
Thy cheer changes Laurence, thou must look done  
The worship of this world is gone thee away,  
Look to this Tod, how he was in affray.  
And flee the sin of falsehood I thee reed,  
Where through there follows sin & shameful deed●.   

Appearing thus before their Lord and King,  
In order set all in joy and mirth,  
Of every kind he made forth bring,  
And awfully he spoke and thus put forth,  
If there was any kind of beast on earth,  
Absent? and thereto made them deeply swear:  
And they said none, except one Stud grey Mare.   

Let send a message unto that Stud,  
The court then said, now who shall it be,  
Come forth Laurence lurking under thy hood,  
A ha' sir mercy, lo I have but one eye,  
Hurt in the hoghe, and crooked as ye may see:  
The Wolf is better far in embassage,  
And thereto learned, wise and sage.   

The King stood up, and said hence away both,  
And they to go without any tarrying,  
Over hill and dale, for fear of his wrath,  
And found the Mare at her meat in the morning,  
Now (quoth the Tod) Madam come to the King,  
The court is called, and ye are found contumax,  
Let be Laurence (quoth she) your courtly knax.   

Mistress (quoth he) come, to the court ye must go,  
The Lion hath commanded so in deed,  
Sir Tod (quoth she) go you and your felloe,  
I have respite a year, and ye will reed,  
I cannot spell (quoth he) so God me speed:  
Here is the Wolf a noble Clerk at all,  
And of this message is made principal.   

He is authentic and a man of age,  
And he hath great practic of the chauncelery,  
Let him go look and read your privilege,  
And I shall stand and bear witness you by.  
Where is thy respite (quoth the Wolf) on high?  
Sir it is here under my boofe well hid,  
Hold up thy heel (quoth he) and so she did.   

Though he were blinded, with pride yet he presumed,  
To look down low where that her letter lay,  
With that the mare girt him upon the gums,  
And struck the Hat of his head away:  
Half out of life, lying down there he lay.  
Alas (quoth Laurence) Lupus thou art lost,  
His cunning (quoth the Mare) was worth some coll.   

Laurence (quoth she) will thou look on my letter,  
Since that the Wolf nothing thereof can win?  
Nay by S. bride (quoth he) me thinks it better,  
To sleep in a whole, than in a hurt skin.  
Once a scroll I found, and this was written in,  
For five shillings I would not loose all nor some,  
Folix quem faciunt aliena pericula caucum.   

With broken scalp, & cheeks that were bloody,  
This wretched Wolf wiping them as he went,  
Of amendss inventing to get remedy.  
To tell the King the case was his intent,  
Sir (quoth the Tod) bide still upon this bent,  
And fro your brows wash away this blood,  
And take some drink for it will do you good.   

To fetch water this fraudefull Fox fore,  
Sidelong aback as though he were sick,  
And as chanced he met coming fro the moor,  
A trip of Lamb, dancing on a dike,  
This traitor Tod this tyrant and this tikt,  
The fattest of the flock he killed haes,  
And eat his fill, so to the Wolf he goes.   

They drank together, and so there journey takes,  
Before the King, soon kneeled on their knee,  
Where is the Mare? sir Tod, was contumax.  
Then Laurence said, my Lord, ask not me,  
Demand of your Doctor of Divinity,  
With his red Cap can tell you well enough:  
With that the Lion, and all the rest lough.   

Tell on the case now Laurence let us hear:  
This witty Wolf, quoth he, this Clerk of age,  
On your behalf he bade the Mare to appear,  
And so she alleged her privilege,  
Come near and see, and you shall have your wage.  
Because he read her respite plain and we'll,  
Yonder read bonnet she reached him with her heel.   

The Lion said, by yond cap I see then,  
This tale is true, who heed unto it takes:  
The greatest Clerks are not the wisest men,  
The hurt of one, happy the other makes:  
As they were talking of these merry knakes,  
And all the Court in mirth and in gam,  
In comes the Ewe, the mother of the Lam.   

Before the justice on her knees she fell,  
Put out her plaint on this wise woefully:  
This Harlot bore son, and this hound of hell,  
Devoured hath my Lamb full doggedly,  
Within a mile, contrary to your cry,  
For Gods love my Lord give me the law,  
Of this lurker: with that Laurence let draw.   

Bide (quoth the Lion) limmer, let us see,  
If it be sooth the silly Yew hath said,  
A ha' sovereign Lord, please your grace, quoth he,  
My purpose was with him for to have played,  
And causeless he fled as he had been afraid.  
For dread of death over a hedge with mischief,  
And broke his neck, thou lies, quoth she, false thief.   

His death by practice may be proved ●ith,  
Thy gory gums, and thy bloody snout,  
The wool, the flesh, it sticks in thy teeth:  
That is evidence enough without doubt,  
The justice bid choose the quest then about:  
And so they did, and found that he was false,  
Of murder, theft, and treason also.   

They bond him fast, the justice bade believe  
To give the doom, and take of all his claes,  
The Wolf that new made Doctor 'gan him shrine,  
So forth was led, and to the Gallows him haes,  
And at the ladder foot his leave he taes,  
The Ape was hangman, and bid him soon ascend,  
And trussed him up, and thus he made his end.   

Morality.  

RIght as the miner in his mineral,  
Fair gold with fire may from the lead well win,  
Right so under a Fable figural,  
Sad sentences may seek, and after fine,  
As daily doth the Doctors of divine,  
That to our living full well can apply,  
And paint the matter out with Poetry.   

The Lion is the world by likeliness,  
To whom bows, both Emperor and King,  
And thinks of this world to get increase,  
Minding daily for to get more living,  
Some for to rule, and some to rack and ring,  
Some gathereth gear, some gold, some other good,  
To win this world, some work as they were wood.   

The Mare is men of good condition,  
As pilgrims walking in this wilderness,  
Approving that for right religion,  
Their God only to please in every place.  
Abstract from this worlds wretchedness,  
Fight with lust, presumption and pride,  
And from this world in mind are mortified.   

This Wolf I liken to sensuality,  
As when like brutal beasts we do accord,  
Our minds all to this worlds vanity,  
Liking take, and love it as our Lord,  
Flee fast therefore, if thou wilt right remord:  
Then shall reason raise, reign and ring,  
And for thy soul there is no better thing.   

Her hoof I liken to the thought of dead,  
Will't thou remember man, that thou must die,  
Thus mayst thou break sensualities head,  
And fleshly lust away fro thee shall fly,  
Assoon as thou thy mind dost mortify.  
Salomon'S saying thou must remember herein,  
Think on thy end, thou shalt not gladly sin.   

This Tod I liken, to temptations,  
Bringing to mind many thoughts vain,  
Assaulting man with sweet persuasions.  
And ready for to trap them in a train,  
Yet if thou set, sensuality near slain,  
And sudden death draw near with pangs sore,  
They quickly go, and tempteth them no more.   

O mediator merciful and meek,  
Thou sovereign Lord, and King celestial,  
Thy mercy's most humbly we beseek.  
Us to defend fro pain and perils all,  
And help us up to thy heavenly hall,  
In glory where we may see the face of God,  
And thus ends, the talking of the Tod.    
FINIS.   

¶ The woeful tale of the plaintiff Dog, against the poor Sheep, before justice Wolf.  

ESopt a tale puts in memory,  
How that a Dog, because that he was poor,  
Called a sheep to the Consistory,  
For certain bread fro him for to recover:  
A crafty Wolf was judge that time, and boor  
Authority, and jurisdiction,  
And for the sheep sent forth a straight summon.   

For by the use and course and common style,  
On this manner made his citation:  
I master Wolf, partlisse of fraud and guile,  
Under the pains of high suspension,  
Of great cursing and interdiction.  
Sir sheep, I charged thee, for to appear,  
And answer to Perry Dog, before me here.   

Sir Corby Raven, was made a parratour,  
Who picked had, full many sheeps eye,  
The charged he taketh, and on the letters bower,  
Summoned the Sheep before the Wolf, that he,  
peremptorily, within two days or three,  
To appear under the pains in the bill,  
To hear what Perry dog, will say thee till.   

The summons made before witness enough,  
The Raven as to his office well offerth,  
endorsed hath the writ: and on he flew,  
The silly sheep for sorrow, durst lay no mouth on earth  
Till he before the lawful judge apperth.  
The hour of cause, which that judge used than,  
Was, when Hesperus to show his face began.   

The Fox was Clerk, and notary in the cause,  
The Kite, and the Crow at the bar could st●●  
As Advocates expert in the laws,  
The Dogs to plead together took in hand,  
Which were confederate straightly in a band,  
Against the sheep for to procure sentence,  
Though it were false, they had no conscience.   

The Clerk called the Sheep, and he was there,  
The Advocates on this wise could propone,  
Of certain bread worth five shillings or mere,  
Thou owes the Dog, of which the term is go●●  
Of his own head without Advocate alone,  
The sheep innocently gave answer in this case,  
Here I appeal fro the judge, the time, the place.   

This is my cause I will show in effect,  
The law says, it is right perilous,  
To enter in plea before a judge suspect,  
And you sir Wolf have been full odious  
To me, for with your tusks ravenous,  
Have stain full many kinsmen of mine,  
Therefore as judge suspect, fro you I do decline.   

And to be brief, of this court ye members all,  
Both Assessors, Clerks, and Advocate,  
To me and mine, are enemies mortal,  
And aye hath been as many shepherds wait,  
The place I suspect, the time is very late:  
Wherefore no judge should sit in Consistory,  
So late at even, I you accuse for thy.   

When that the judge on this wise was accused,  
He bade the parties choose with one assent,  
Two arbitrators, as in the law is used,  
For to declare, and give arbitrement,  
Whether the Sheep should answer in judgement  
Before the Wolf, and so they did agreed,  
Of whom the names, ye shall shortly see.   

The Bear, and Brock, the matter took in hand,  
For to decide, if this exception  
Was of no force, or lawfully might stand.  
And thereupon as judges they sat down,  
And held along while disputation,  
Seeking full many decrees of the law,  
And glozes also the verity to knaw.   

Of Civil law volumes full many they revolve,  
The Codies and Digesters new and old,  
Contrait, prostrait arguments they resolve,  
Some objecting, and some 'gan hold,  
For prayer or price trow ye they would be controlled.  
But hold the gloze▪ and text of the decreiss,  
As true judges, I beshrew them aye that leis.   

Shortly to make an end of this debate,  
The arbytratours thus they swearen plain,  
The sentence given, and process fulminate.  
The Sheep should pass before the Wolf again,  
And end his plea, than was he nothing fain,  
For fro this sentence could he not appeal,  
Now Clerks I ask, if this sentence were wea●●.   

The sheep again before the Wolf appeared,  
Without Advocate, abashedly could stand,  
Up rose the Dog, and to the judge thus sword,  
A sum I paid to him, before in hand,  
For certain bread, a witness here doth stand.  
That wrongfully the sheep doth hold the bread,  
Which he denied, and there began to pled.   

And when the sheep this strife had contestate,  
The justice in the cause forth 'gan proceed,  
Laurence the acts, and the process wrote,  
And thus the plea unto the end they speed:  
This cursed court corrupted all for meed,  
Against good faith, law, and eke conscience,  
For this false Dog pronounced the sentence.   

And so forthwith put it in execution,  
The Wolf charged the sheep without delay,  
Under the pains of interdiction,  
The sum of silver or the bread to pay.  
Of this sentence, alas, what shall I say?  
Which condemned hath the silly innocent,  
And justified the wrongful judgement.   

The sheep dreading more the execution,  
Obeying to the sentence: he could take,  
His way unto a merchant of the town,  
And sold the wool that he bore on his back,  
So bought the bread, and to the Dog can make  
Ready payment, as it commanded was,  
So naked and bore to the field can pass.   

Morality.  

THis silly sheep may represent the figure,  
Of poor commons that daily are oppressed,  
By tyrannous men which sets all their cure,  
By false means to make a wrong conquest,  
In hope this present life should ever jest:  
But all beguiled, they will in short time end,  
And after death to lasting pains▪ wend.   

This Wolf I liken to a shrive stout,  
Which buyeth a forfeit at the King's hand,  
And hath with him a cursed assize about,  
And endites all the poor men upon land,  
Or if the Bailiff hath laid on him his wand,  
Though he were true as ever were S. john,  
Hanged shall he be, or with the judge compone.   

This Raven I liken to a false Coroner,  
Which hath a portion of the indictment,  
And passes forth before the justiciair,  
All misdoers to bring unto judgement,  
But look if he was, of any true intent,  
To scrape out john and write in Will, or Wat,  
And take a bribe at both, how like ye that.   

Of this false Tod of which I spoke before,  
And of this fight, what they might signify:  
Of their nature, as now I speak no more,  
But of this Sheep and of his careful cry,  
I shall rehearse: for as I passed by,  
Where that he lay, I chanced to look down,  
And heard him make fore lamentation.   

Alas (quoth he) this cursed consistory,  
In mids of winter now a days is made,  
When Boreas with blasts bitterly,  
And hard frosts, the flowers down can fade,  
On banks bore now may I make no bade:  
And with that word into a bush he crap,  
From cold weather, and frosts him to hap.   

Quaking for cold, sore mourning aye among,  
Cast up his eye unto the heavens height,  
And said, Lord God why sleeps thou so long?  
Walk; and discern my cause grounded on right,  
See how I am by fraud, mastery, and slight,  
Peeled full bore, and so is many a one,  
Now in this world, right wonder woebegone.   

See how this cursed son of covetise,  
Bought hath the Lawyer, and ●ke the law,  
Now few or none will execute justice:  
In fault of whom the poor man is overthrow,  
The verity suppose, the judge it know,  
He is so blinded with affection,  
Without dread, for might, he lets the right go down   

Seest thou not (Lord) this world overturnde is,  
And who will change good Gold in Lead or Tin,  
The poor is pulled, the Lord may do no miss,  
And Simony is holden for no sin,  
Now is he glad with craft that most may win:  
Good neighbourhood is slain, and pity is ago,  
Alas (good Lord) why lets thou it be so?   

Thou lets it thus be for our great offence,  
Thou sends us trouble, and plagues sore,  
As hunger, dearth, great war, or pestilence,  
But few amends now their life therefore,  
We poor people as now may do no more,  
But pray to thee, since that we are oppressed,  
Here in this earth, grant us in heaven good rest.    
FINIS.   


¶ The exemplative tale of the Lion and the Mouse: With the Author's Prologue before.  

IN mids of june, that sweet season,  
When that fair Phoebus with his beams bright,  
Had dried up the dew, fro dale and down,  
And all the land ●ade with his beams light,  
In a morning betwixt midday and night,  
I rose, and put all sloth and sleep aside,  
And to a wood I went, alone without guide.   

Sweet was the smell of flowers white and red,  
The noise of birds right delicious,  
The Bevis ●ong right above my head,  
The ground growing with grass gracious,  
Of all pleasance that place was plenteous,  
With sweet odours, and birds hatmony,  
The morning mild, my mirth was more for thy.   

The Roses red growing on banks could rise,  
The primrose, Violet purple and black,  
To hear it was a heavenly Paradise,  
Such mirth the Mavis, and the Merle could make,  
The blossoms brave, broke up in bank and brake,  
The smell of herbs and of the fowls cry,  
Contending who should have the victory.   

Me to conserve fro the suns heat,  
Under the shadow of a Hawthorne green,  
I laid me down among the flowers sweat,  
So clad my head, and closed both mine eyen,  
On sleep I fell among these birds fine,  
And in my dream me thought came through the field,  
The fairest man that ever I beheld.   

His gown was of a cloth as white as milk,  
His jacket was of chamlet purpur brown,  
His hood of Scarlet broidered well with silk,  
And hanging wise unto his girdle down,  
His bonnet round of the old fashion,  
His beard was white, his eyen were great and grey,  
With locks of hears, which on his shoulders lay.   

A roll of paper in his hand he bore,  
A Swans pen sticking under his ear,  
An inkhorn with a pretty gilt pennayre,  
A bag of silk all at his girdle bear,  
Thus was he goodly girded in his gear,  
Of statu●e large, and with a fearful face,  
Even where I lay he came a sturdy pace.   

And said God speed my son: and I was fain,  
Of that good word and of his company,  
With reverence, I answered him again,  
Welcome father: and he sat down me by,  
Displease you not my good master, though I,  
Demand your birth, your faculty and nome,  
Why ye come here, or where ye devil at home.   

My son (said he) I am of gentle blood,  
My native land is Rome withouten nay,  
In that town first to the schools I yeude▪  
In civil law studied full many a day,  
And now my woning is in heaven for aye,  
Esope I height, my writing and my work,  
Is kend and known to many a cunning clerk.   

O master Esope Poet Laureate,  
God wot ●e are full decree welcome to me,  
Are ye not he that all the Fables wrote,  
Which in effect suppose they feigned be,  
Are full of prudence and Morality?  
Fair Son (said he) I am the self same man,  
God wot if that my heart was merry than.   

I said, Esope my master venerable,  
I you beseech most entirely,  
You would not deigned to tell a pretty fable,  
Concluding with a good Morality.  
Shaking his head, he said, my son let be,  
What doth it profit to tell a feigned tale,  
When holy preaching may nothing avail?   

Now in this world my think right few or none,  
Unto God's word that hath devotion,  
The ear is deafs, the heart is hard as stone,  
Now open sin without any correction,  
The heart inclining to the earth adown,  
So rusted is this world with canker black,  
That now my tales may little secure make.   

Yes gentle sir (said I) for my request,  
Not to displease your fatherhead, I pray,  
Under the figure of some brutal beast,  
A moral Fable that ye would deign to say,  
Who knoweth, not I may learn and bear away,  
Something thereby, hereafter may avail?  
I grant (quoth he) and thus begins his tale.    

The end of the Prologue, and here begins the Tale.  

A Lion at his prey was overrun,  
To recreate his limbs and to rest,  
Beking his breast and belly at the Sun,  
Under a tree lay in the fair forest:  
Then comes there a trip of mice out of their nest,  
Right merry and glad, all dancing in their guise,  
And over the Lion vaulted twice or thrice.   

He lay so still, the mice wear not afeard,  
But to and fro, o'er him took their trace,  
Some twirled at the muchachoes of his beard,  
And some spared not to claw him on the face,  
Merry and glad thus danced they a space,  
Till at the last, the noble Lion woke,  
And with his paw, the master mouse he took.   

She gave a cry, and all the rest aghast,  
Their dancing left, and hid them soon elsewhere,  
She that was ta'en, cried and wept full fast,  
And said, alas, the time that I came here,  
Now am I ta'en a woeful prisoner,  
And for my guilt, must bide incontinent,  
Of life or death to hear the judgement.   

Then spoke the Lion to that careful mous,  
Thou caitiff wretch, and vile unworthy thing,  
Over malapert and eke presumptuous,  
Thou wert to make out over me thy tripping:  
Knewest thou not I was both Lord and King,  
Of beasts all, yes, quoth the mouse, I know,  
But I witted not because y● lay so low.   

Lord I beseech thy kingly royalty,  
Hear what I say, and take in patience,  
Consider first my simple poverty,  
And then thy might and high magnificence:  
See also how things done of negligence,  
Neither of malice, nor of presumption,  
The rather should have grace and remission.   

We were replete, and had great abundance  
Of all things such as to us belonged,  
The sweet season provoked us to dance,  
And make such mirth as nature to us ●earned,  
You lay so still as though ye had been strangled,  
That by my soul we wend ye had been dead,  
Else would we not have danced over your head.   

Thy false excuse, the Lion said again,  
Shall not avail one whit I to thee say,  
I put the case I had been dead or slain,  
And so my skin been stopped full of hay,  
Though thou had found my figure in the way,  
Because it bore the print of my person,  
Thou shouldst for fear on knees have fallen down.   

For thy trespass thou can make no defence,  
My noble person this to vilepend,  
Of thy fellows, nor thy own negligence,  
For to excuse thou can no cause pretend,  
Therefore thou suffer shalt a shameful end,  
And death, such as to treason is decreed,  
Upon the gallows all hanged but the head▪   

Nay mercy Lord, now at thy grace I ask,  
As thou art King of all beasts coronate,  
Assuage thy wrath, and let it overpass,  
And make thy mind to mercy inclinate,  
I grant offence is done to thine estate,  
Wherefore I worthy am as now to die,  
But if thy kingly mercy pardon me▪   

In every judge mercy and ruth should ●e,  
As assessors, and collateral,  
Without mercy justice is cruelty,  
As said is in the laws special,  
When rigour sits in the tribunal,  
The equity of law who may sustain?  
Right few or none, lest mercy go between.   

Also ye know the honour triumphal,  
Of all victory, upon the strength depends,  
Of his conquest, which manfully in battle,  
Throw jeopardy of war long defends,  
What price or praise when the battle ends,  
Is said of him that overcomes one man,  
Himself to defend, which neither may nor can.   

A thousand mice to kill and eke devour,  
Is little manhood to a strong Lion,  
Full little worship shall ye win therefore,  
To whose strength is no comparison:  
It will appair some part of your renown,  
To slay a mouse, which may make no defence,  
But ask mercy at your excellence.   

Also it seems, not your celfitude,  
Which uses daily meats delicious,  
To file your teeth or lips with any blood,  
Which to your stomach is contagious,  
Unwholesome meat also, is a sorry mous,  
And that namely unto a strong Lion,  
Want to be fed with gentle venison.   

My life is little warth, my death is less.  
Yet and I li●e, I may p●raduenture,  
Supply your highness being in distress,  
For often is seen a man of small stature,  
Rescued hath a Lord of great honour,  
That was beset and in point overthrown,  
●hrow misfortune, such case may be your own.   

When this was said, the Lion his language,  
paused, and thought according to reason,  
And made mercy his cruel ire assuage,  
And to the mouse granted remission:  
Opened his paw, and she on knees fell down,  
And both her hands unto the heaven held,  
Crying almighty God your grace ever shield.   

When she was gone, the Lion went to hunt,  
For he had nought but lived by his prey,  
And slew both tame and wild as he was wont,  
And in the country, made many a great fray,  
Till at the last the people fond the way,  
This cruel Lion how that they might take.  
So of Hempon cords strong nets can they make.   

And in a lane where be was wont to run,  
With ropes rude fro tree to tree they hang,  
So cast a ring without wood and within,  
With horns fast blowing, and hounds crying,  
The Lion fled, and throw the lane running,  
Fallen in the net, and so caught by chance,  
For all his strength could make no resistance.   

Weltering about with hideous roaring,  
While to, while fro, while he might secure get,  
But all in vain, it availed him nothing,  
The more he flung the faster was the net,  
The ropes rude were so fast about him set,  
On every side, that succour saw he none,  
But still lying, and mourning made his moan.   

O lamentable Lion lying here so law,  
Where is the might of thy magnificence?  
Of whom all brutal beasts in earth stood awe,  
And dread to look upon thy excellence,  
Without hope, or help, without succour or de●ence,  
In bands strong here must I lie (alas)  
Till I be slain I see no other grace.   

There is no wight that will my harms wreak,  
Nor Creature, do comfort to my crown,  
Who shall me help? who shall my bands break?  
Who shall me put fro pain of this prison?  
By that he had made this lamentation,  
Through adventure the little Mouse come by,  
And of the Lion heard the woeful cry.   

And suddenly it came in till her mind,  
That it should be the Lion by his close,  
And said now were I false, and right unkind,  
But I quite of his goodness some part, I suppose  
Thou did to me, and on her ways she goes,  
To her fellows, and on them fast can cry,  
Come help, come help, and they came by and by.   

Lo (quoth the mouse) this is the same Lion,  
That grace granted me when I was ta'en anon,  
And now is fast here bounden in prison,  
Breaking his heart with great mourning and moan,  
Without we him help, of succour wots he none,  
Come help to quite one good turn for another,  
And loose him quickly: they answered yea good brother.   

They took no knife, their teeth were sharp enough:  
To see that sight, forsooth it was great wonder,  
How that they ran among the ropes tough,  
Before, behind, some above, some under,  
And shore the ropes of the net in sunder,  
Then had him rise, and he start up anon,  
And thanked them, so on his way is gone.   

Now is the Lion free from all danger,  
Lose and delivered to his liberty,  
By little beasts, and of simple power,  
As ye have heard, because he had pity,  
(Quoth I master) is there a Morality,  
Of this fable? yea Son (he said) right good,  
I pray you sir then, (quoth I) conclude.    

Morality.  

AS I suppose this mighty gay Lion,  
May signify a Prince or Emperor,  
Any potestate, or any King with crown,  
Which should be captain, guide and governor,  
Of his people that takes no labour,  
To rule, and steer, the land, and justice keep,  
Without lying still in lusts, flouth, and sleep.   

The fair forest with leaves fresh to see,  
With fowls singing, and flowers fair and sweet,  
Is but the world and his prosperity,  
As false pleasance mingled, and care replete,  
Right as the Rose, with frost and winter wet,  
Fades, so doth the world and them desave,  
Which in their lusts most confidences have.   

These little mice are but the commonty,  
Wanton, unwise, without correction,  
Their Lords, and Princes, when that they see,  
Of justice make no execution,  
They dread nothing to make rebellion,  
And disobey: for why, they stand in no awe,  
That makes them, their sovereign not to knaw.   

By this Fable ye Lords of prudence,  
May consider the virtue of piety,  
And to remit sometime a great offence,  
And mitigate with mercy, cruelty,  
Oft-times is seen a man of small degree,  
Hath quit a King either with good or ill,  
As the Lord hath done, rigour or grace him till.   

Who knoweth not, how soon, a Lord of great renown  
Rolling in worldly lust and vain pleasance,  
May be overthrown, destroyed, and put down,  
Through false fortune? which of all variance,  
Is hole mistress and leader of the dance,  
To unjust men, and blinds them so sore,  
That they no peril can provide before.   

These rural men that hanged hath the net,  
In which the Lion suddenly was thrown:  
Waited always amends for to get,  
(For hurt men, writeth in the marble stone)  
More to expound, as now I let alone,  
Both King & Lord may well know what I mean,  
The figure hereof, oft-times hath been seen.   

When this was said (quoth Esope) my fair child,  
I thee beseek, and all men for to pray,  
That treason of this country be exiled,  
And justice reign, and Lords keep their say,  
Unto their sovereign Prince both night and day:  
And with that word he vanished, and I woke,  
So through the wood my journey when I took.    
FINIS.   

The notable tale of the preaching of the Swallow.  

THe high prudence, and working marvelous,  
The profound wit of God omnipotent,  
Is so perfect, and so ingenious,  
Excellent far, above man's judgement,  
For why to him all things are aye present,  
Right as it is or any time shallbe,  
Before the sight of his Divinity.   

Therefore our souls with sensuality.  
So settred are in this prison corporal,  
We may not clearly understand nor see,  
God, as he is, nor things celestial,  
Our dark and deadly corpse natural,  
Blindeth the spiritual operation,  
Like as a man were bound in prison.   

In metaphislcke Aristotle doth say,  
That man's soul is like a backs eye,  
Which lurketh still as long as light of day,  
And in the twilight cometh forth to fly,  
Her eyes are weak, the sun she may not see,  
So is our soul with fantasy oppressed,  
To know the things in nature manifest.   

For God is in his power infinite,  
And man's soul is feeble and over small,  
Of understanding weak and unperfect,  
To comprehend him that contains all:  
None should presume by reason natural,  
To search the secrets of the Trinity,  
But believe firmly, and let vain reasons be.   

Yet nevertheless we may have knowledging,  
Of God almighty, by his creatures,  
That he is good, fair, wise and benign,  
Example take by these jolly stoures,  
Right sweet of smell, and pleasant of colours,  
Some green, some blue, some purple, white, & red,  
Thus distributed by gift of his godhead.   

The firmament painted with Stars clear,  
From east to west rolling in circle round,  
And every planet in his proper Spheire,  
In morning making harmony and sound,  
The fire, the air, the water, and the ground,  
To understand is enough iwis,  
That God in all his works witty is.   

Look well on the fish that in the seas be,  
Look well in the earth all kind of bestial,  
The fowls fair so forcely they flee,  
Parting the air with wings great and small,  
Then look to man, that he made last of all,  
Like to his Image, and his similitude,  
By this we know that God is fair and good.   

All Creatures he made for the behove,  
Of man and to his supportation,  
In this earth, both under and above,  
In number, weight, and due proportion,  
The difference of time and each season,  
Concordant to our opportunity,  
As daily by experience we may see,   

The Summer with his jolly mantel of green,  
With flowers fair to fur it, him hath sent,  
Which Flora Goddess of the flowers Queen,  
Hath to that Lord as for his season lent,  
And Phoebus with his golden beams gent,  
Hath purfled and painted pleasantly,  
With heat, and moisture, stilling fro the sky.   

Then Harvest hot, when Ceres that Goddess,  
Her Barns blessed hath with abundance,  
And Bacchus God of wines renewed hes,  
The ton pipes, in Italy and France,  
With wine's wight, and liquors of pleasance,  
And Copia temporis to fill his horn,  
That never was full of wheat, nor other corn.   

Then comes winter wan, when austerne Aeolus,  
God of the wind with blasts boreall,  
The green garment of Summer glorious,  
Hath all to rend, and riven in pieces small,  
Then flowers fair faded with frastes, must fall,  
And birds jocund changing their notes sweet,  
Still mourning, near slain with snow & sleate.   

The dales deep with snow drowned is,  
Both hill and holt be led with frosts hoore,  
And Larks been left bore of any bliss,  
By wicked winds of the winter woore,  
All wild beasts then from the fields frore,  
Draws for dread unto their dens deep,  
Couching for cold in holes them to keep.   

After comes Ver, when winter is away,  
The Secretary of Summer with his cell,  
When Columbine up pears through the clay,  
Which fled was before with frosts fell,  
The Mavis, and the Metle, begins to meil,  
The Larks on fit, with other birds their sown,  
They spread abroad over dale and down.   

That same season in a fair morning,  
Right glad that bitter blasles near ago,  
Unto the wood to see the flowers spring,  
And hear the Mavis sing and birds more,  
I passed forth, and looking to and fro,  
To see the soil, that was right sesonable,  
Sappy, and to receive all seeds able.   

Thus passing on great mirth I took in mind,  
Of labourers to see the business,  
Some making dikes, and some the plough can wind,  
Some sowing seeds fast fro place to place,  
The Harrows hopping in the furrows trace,  
It was great joy for him that loves corn,  
To see them labour both at even and morn.   

And as I went along a bank thereby,  
In heart greatly rejoicing of that sight,  
Unto an hedge, under a Hawthorne hie,  
Of small birds there came a great flight,  
And down quickly on the leaves light,  
On every side about me where I stood,  
Right marvelous and a great multitude.   

Among the which a Swallow loud can cry,  
On that Hawthorne hie in the top sitting,  
O ye birds all hear me by and by,  
You shall well know, and ye will ponder one thing,  
Where danger is or peril appearing,  
It is great wisdom to provide before,  
It to avoid for fear it hurt you more.   

Sir swallow (quoth the Lark again) and lough,  
What have ye seen, that causeth you to dread?  
See ye yonder churl, quoth she, beyond you plough,  
Fast sowing hemp, and good Line seed:  
Yonder lint will grow in little time in deed,  
And thereof will this churl his nets make,  
Under the which he thinks us to take.   

Therefore my counsel is when that he is gone,  
At even, and with our nails sharp and small,  
Out of the earth scrape that seed anon,  
And eat it up, for if it grows we shall,  
Have cause to weep hereafter one and all,  
See we remedy it with Instant,  
Nam levius laedit quicquid previdimus ante.   

For Clerks says, it is not sufficient,  
To consider that is before thine eye,  
But prudence is an inward argument,  
That makes a man, provide and foresee,  
What good, what evil, is like for to be,  
Of every thing behold the final end,  
And so from peril, the better him defend.   

The Lark laughing thus the Swallow to scorn,  
Said she fished long before the net,  
The child is soon broke that is unborn,  
All groweth not that in the ground is set,  
The neck to stoop when it the stroke shall get,  
Is soon enough: death on thee fast fall,  
Thus mocked they the Swallow one and all.   

Despising thus her wholesome document,  
The fowls forthwith took their flight anon,  
Some with their make into the field went:  
And some again are to the green wood gone,  
Thus under the tree they left me alone,  
I took my club, and homeward cold it carry,  
As fearfully as I had seen some Fairy.   

Thus passing forth while june that jolly tide,  
And seeds that were sown erst before,  
Were grown high, that Hares might them hide,  
And also the quails craking in the corn,  
I moved forth betwixt midday and morn,  
Unto the hedge under the Hauthorne green,  
Where I before, the foresaid birds had seen.   

And as I stood by adventure and case,  
The same birds as I have said you ere,  
I hope, because it was their haunting place,  
Moore of succour, or yet more solitaire,  
They light adown: and when they lighted were,  
The Swallow again put forth a piteous pime,  
And said, woe is him cannot beware in time.   

O blind birds and full of negligence,  
Unmindful of your own prosperity,  
Lift up your sight and take good advertence,  
Look to that lint that grows on yond le,  
That same is the thing forsooth, that we,  
As I said erst, should root out and kill,  
Now is it lint: we can do it none ill.   

Go yet while it is tender and small,  
And pull it up, let it no more increase,  
My heart groans, my body quakes with all,  
Thinking on it I may not sleep in peace,  
They cried all, and bad the Swallow cease,  
And said yonder lint hereafter will do good,  
For line seeds to little birds are food.   

We think when that yonder lint seed is ripe,  
To make us feasts and fill us with the seed,  
maugre the churl, and on it sing and peep,  
Well (quoth the Swallow) friends hardly beet,  
Do as ye will, but certain sore I dread,  
Hereafter ye shall find all sour, and not sweet,  
When ye are spitted on the churls spit.   

The owner of yond lint a fowler is,  
Right crafty, and full of subtlety,  
His prey full seldom time will he miss,  
But if we birds all, the warer be,  
Full many of our kin he hath caused to die,  
And thought it but a sport to spill their blood,  
God keep me fro him, and the holy rood.   

These small birds having but little thought,  
Of peril that might fall by adventure,  
The council of the Swallow set at naught,  
But took their flight and forth together sure,  
Some to the wood, some marched to the Moor,  
I took my staff, when this was said and done,  
And walked home for it drew near to none.   

The Lint riped, the Carl pulled the line,  
Rippilt the bowels, and in boundless it set,  
It steeped in water and dried it fine,  
And with a beetle knocked it, and bet,  
So swingled it well and hekled it in the flet,  
His wife it span, and twined it into thread,  
Of which the fowler nets made in deed.   

The Winter come, the wicked wind can blow,  
The woods green were faded with the wet,  
All things decayed with frosts and with snow,  
Puddles and lakes made sliddery with sleate,  
The fowls fair for fault they fall on feat,  
On bows bore it was no boot to bide,  
But hied them to houses them to hide.   

Some in the barn, some in the stake of corn,  
Their lodging took and made theri residence,  
The fowler saw, and great oaths hath sworn,  
They should be ta'en truly for their expense,  
His nets then he set with great diligence,  
And in the snow he showled hath a plain,  
And healed it all over with chaff again.   

These small birds seeing this chaff were glad,  
Thinking it had been corn, they lited down,  
But of the nets no inkling they had,  
Nor of the fowler's false intention,  
To scrape & seek their meat they made them bown,  
The Swallow on a little branch near by,  
Dreading some guile, thus loud to them can cry.   

Into that chaff scrape whiles your nails bleed,  
There is no corn ye labour all in vain,  
Trow ye yond churl for pity will you feed,  
Nam, na, he hath it here laid for a train,  
Remove I read you, or else ye will be slain,  
His nets he hath set full privily,  
ready to draw: in time beware, or ye die.   

Great follies in him that puts in danger,  
His life, his honour, for a thing of naught,  
Great follies in him, that will not gladly hear,  
Counsel in time, while it avail him might.  
Great follies in him, that hath nothing in thought,  
But things present: and after what may fall,  
Nor of the end hath no memorial.   

These small birds for hunger famished near,  
Full busily scraping for to seek their food,  
The counsel of the Swallow would not hear,  
Suppose their labour did them little good.  
When she their foolish hearts understood  
So indurate, up in a tree she flew,  
With that this churl over them his nets drew,   

Alas it was great pity for to see,  
That bloody Boucher to beat the birds down,  
And ah to hear, when they witted well to die,  
Their careful cry and lamentation,  
Some with a staff he struck to earth on fowne:  
Of some the head he struck, of some he broke the crag:  
Some half on live he stopped into his bag.   

And when the Swallow saw that they were dead,  
Lo (quoth she) these chances do arise,  
On them that will not take council nor head,  
Of prudent men, or Clerks that are wise,  
This great peril I told them more than thrice:  
Now are they dead, woe is me therefore,  
She took her flight, and I saw her no more.   

Morality.  

LO worthy folk, Esope that noble Clerk,  
A poet worthy to be Lawreate,  
When he had leisure, from more authentic work,  
With other more, this foresaid fable wrote,  
Which at this time may well be applicate,  
To very good moral edification,  
Having aye sentence according to reason.   

This carl, and bond of gentry spoliate,  
Sowing this chaff, the small birds to slay,  
It is the fiend, which fro the angelic state,  
Exiled was as false Apostata,  
Which day and night wearieth not to ga,  
Sowing poison in every wicked thought,  
In man's soul, which Christ full dear hath bought.   

And when the soul, as into earth the seed,  
Gives consent unto delectation,  
Then wicked thoughts begins for to breed,  
In deadly, sin which is damnation,  
Reason is blinded with affection,  
And carnal lust, grows full green and gay,  
Through consuetude haunted from day to day.   

Proceeding forth by use and consuetude,  
Then sin ripes, and shame is set aside,  
The fiend makes his nets sharp and rude,  
And under pleasance privily them hide,  
Then on the field he soweth chaff full wide,  
Which is but dross and very vanity,  
Of fleshly lust and vain prosperity.   

These little hirdes, wretches we may call,  
Still scraping in this worlds vain pleasance,  
Greedy to gaher goods temporal,  
Which as the chaff or dross without substance,  
Little of avail, and full of variance,  
Like to the dust, before the blast of wind,  
Which whisks away and maketh wretches blind.   

This Swallow which scaped is the snare,  
The holy preacher well may signify,  
Exhorting folk to walk and aye beware,  
From the nets of our wicked enemy,  
Who sleepeth not but ever is ready,  
When wretches in this world chaff do scrape,  
To draw his net, than they may not escape.   

Alas what care, what weeping is and woe,  
When soul and body departed are in twain?  
The body to the worms kitchen doth go,  
The soul to fire to everlasting pain,  
What helps then this chaff, these goods vain,  
When thou art put to Lucifer's hire,  
And brought to Hell, and hanged in the fire?   

These hid nets for to perceive and see,  
And this sorry chaff, is wise understanding:  
Best is beware in most prosperity,  
For in this world there is nothing lasting,  
There is noman certain how long shallbe his being,  
How long his life shall last, nor how shallbe his end:  
Nor after his death whether he shall wend.   

Pray we therefore while we are in this life,  
For four things: the first, fro sin remove,  
The second is, fro all war and strife,  
The third is, perfect charity and love,  
The fourth thing is and most for our behove,  
That is in bliss with Angels to be fellow,  
And thus endeth the preaching of the Swallow.    
FINIS.   

¶ The merry tale of the wolf, that woldshave had, the Neckhering through the wiles of the Fox, thnt beguiled the Carrier.  

Whilom there wound in a wilderness,  
(As mine Author expressly can declare)  
A ravening Wolf, that lived upon purches,  
On all beasts and made him well to far,  
Was none so big, about him he would spare,  
And he wear hungry, other for favour or faith,  
But in his wrath, he wearied them to death.   

So happened him in roving as he went,  
To meet a Fox in mids of the way,  
Laurence him first saw and feared to be shent,  
And with a beke, he bade the Wolf good day,  
Welcome to me (quoth he) thou russet grey,  
So bowed he down, and took him by the hand,  
Rise up Laurence I give thee leave to stand.   

Where hast thou been this long out of my sight?  
Thou shalt bear office, and my steward be,  
For thou can knap down Capons in the night,  
And lurking low thou can make hens die,  
Sir (said the Fox) that agrees not for me,  
And I am red, if they see me afar,  
At my figure, beast and birds will scar.   

Nay (quoth the Wolf) thou can in covert creep,  
Upon thy belly, and catch them by the head,  
And make a sudden show upon a sheep,  
So with thy weapons weary him to dead,  
Sir (said the Fox) ye know my rob is read,  
And therefore there will no beast abide me,  
Though I would be so false as for to hide me.   

Yes (quoth the Wolf) through hedge & through bush,  
Low can thou bow to come to thine intent,  
Sir (said the Fox) ye wot well how I push,  
And long fro them they will feel my scent,  
Then will they escape, suppose I should be shent,  
And I am ashamed to come behind them,  
Into the field though I should sleeping found them.   

Nay, quoth the Wolf, thou can come on the wind,  
For every wrinke forsooth thou hast a wile,  
Sir, said the Fox, that beast ye might call blind,  
That might not scape then fro me a mile,  
How might I one of them that ways beguile?  
My tipped two ears, and my two grey eyen,  
Makes me be known, where I was never seen.   

Then, said the Wolf, Laurence I hear thee lie,  
And casts for perils thy doings to defend,  
But all thy sayings shall not avail thee,  
About the bush with ways though thou wend,  
Wyly will beguile himself at the latter end,  
To bow at bidding, and bide not while thou breast,  
Therefore I give thee council for the best.   

Sir, said the Fox, it is now Lent ye see,  
I cannot fish for witting of my feet,  
To take a banstakle, though we both should die,  
I have no other craft to win my meat,  
But were it Easter that men should poultry eat,  
As Kies, Lamb, or Capons then to ply,  
To bear your office I would full gladly.   

Then, said the Wolf, in wrath weenst thou with wiles,  
And with thy many mocks me to mate,  
It is an old dog doubtless that thou beguiles:  
Thou thinks to draw the straw before the cat.  
Sir, said the Fox God wot I mean not that,  
For and I did, it wear well done that ye,  
In a hempen halter had tied me to a tree.   

But now I see he is a fool parfay,  
That with his master falls in reasoning,  
I did but feel what that ye would say,  
God wot my mind was on another thing,  
I shall fulfil in all things your bidding,  
What ever ye charged me other night or days,  
Well (quoth the Wolf) I hear thee what thou says.   

But yet I will, thou make to me an oath,  
For to be true at all times and tide,  
Sir (said the Fox) let no word make ye wroth,  
For now I see that you have me in dread,  
Yet shall I swear suppose it be naught need:  
By jupiter, and on pain of my head,  
I shall be true to you, while I be dead.   

With that a Carrier with pannier and creyles,  
Came singing forward: and Laurence could him spy?  
The Fox the smell of the fresh herring feels,  
And to the Wolf he rounds privily  
Sir yonder are herring the carrier carries by,  
Therefore my counsel is to see for some ways,  
To get some fish against these fasting days.   

Since I am steward, I would we had some stuff,  
And ye are silver sick, I know right we'll,  
Though we would beg, yond very churlist chuff,  
He will not give us a herring of his creell,  
Before the churl on knees though we would kneel,  
But yet I trow full quickly ye shall see,  
If I can craft to blear the carls eye.   

Sir, one thing is, and we get of you pelf,  
You must take travail and diligent be,  
For he that will not labour, and help himself,  
In these days he is not worth a flee,  
For I think to work as busy as a be,  
And ye shall follow a little afterwart,  
And gather up herring, and that shallbe your part.   

With that he cast a compass far about,  
And laid him down in mids of the way,  
As he wear dead he feynd without doubt,  
And then all a long unlikely he lay,  
The white he turned up of his eyen twain,  
His tongue out hang a handbreath of his head,  
And still he lay, as stiff as he were dead.   

The Carrier found the Fox and he was fain,  
And to himself thus softly can he say,  
At the next bait in faith ye shall be slain  
And of your skin, I shall make mittens tway,  
He leapt full lighty about him where he lay,  
And all the trace he tripped on his toes,  
As he had hard a piper play he goes.   

Hear lieth the Devil, quoth he, as big as a hog,  
Such a felon saw I not this seven year,  
I trow ye have been tired with some dog,  
That makes you lie so still withouten steer,  
Sir Fox in faith you are well welcome hear,  
It is some wine's blessing as far as I know,  
For poultry picking that light on you I trow.   

There shall no peddler for purse ne yet for gloves,  
Nor yet for points pick your pelft from me.  
I shall of it make coufes to my loves,  
To keep my hands warm where ere I be,  
To Flaunders shall it never sail the sea,  
With that in hy he took him by the heels,  
And with one suage he flang him on his creels.   

So by the head the horse in hast he took,  
The Fox that saw, as crafty thief alone,  
And with his teeth the stopple out he shook,  
And so the herring threw out one by one,  
Out of the creels he threw them down anon,  
The Wolf was ware, and took up speedily,  
The Carrier sang, hunt is up, up upon high.   

Yet at a brook the Carrier lokt about,  
With that the Fox leapt quite the creels fra,  
The Carrier would have reached the Fox a rout,  
But all for naught, he won his spurs that day,  
Then with a shout thus can the Carrier say,  
Abide, and of neckherring shalt have best,  
Is worth my horse, the creels, and all the rest.   

Now, quoth the Fox, I shrew me and we meet,  
I hard what thou height to do with my skin,  
Thy hands shall never in thy coufes heat,  
And thou wear hanged carl and all thy kin,  
Do forth thy market by me thou shalt not win,  
And cell thy herring thou hast there, for high price,  
Else thou shalt win naught on thy ambergris.   

The Carrier trembled for anger as he stood,  
I am well worthy (quoth he) to loose yond tike,  
That had naught in my hand to do so much good,  
As staff or stick, this felon for to strike:  
With that he lightly leapt out over the dike,  
And cut down a staff, for he was angry,  
That heavy was, and of the green holly.   

With that the Fox unto the Wolf could go,  
And fond him by the herrings where he lies,  
Sir (said he then) have I not played the shrew:  
A wight man wanted never and he were wife,  
A hardy heart his hand for to surprise,  
(Than said the Wolf) thou art a barn full bold,  
And wise at will, in good time be it told.   

But what was that the Carl cried on high,  
And shook his hand, quoth he, didst thou not here?  
Sir (said the Fox) that can I tell truly,  
He said his neck herrings were in there,  
Knows thou that herring: ye sir with good cheer,  
And at the creele mouth I had thrice without doubt,  
The weight whereof near plucked my tusks out.   

Now soothly sir, might we that herring have,  
It would be fish to us these forty days:  
(Then said the Wolf) now so God me save,  
But to be there I would give all my clays,  
To see if that my weapons might it rays,  
Sir (said the Fox) God wot I wished you oft,  
When that my strength might not bear it aloft.   

It is a side of Salmon as it were,  
And coloured much like the Partridge eye,  
It is worth all the herrings ye have there,  
Ye and we had it sir, is it worth such three,  
Then, said the Wolf, what counsel gives thou me?  
Sir, said the Fox, work after my reed,  
And ye shall have it, and take ye no dread.   

First ye must cast a compass far about,  
So lay you down in mids of the way,  
Both head, feet, and tail, ye must stretch out,  
Hung forth your tongue, and close your eyen twain,  
And see your head, on a hard place ye lay,  
And doubt ye no peril, that may appear,  
But hold you close, when that the Carl comes near.   

And though ye see a staff have ye no doubt,  
But hold you wonders still, in that steed,  
And look your tyne be close as they were out,  
And see that ye shrink neither foot, nor head,  
Then will the whoreson Carle trow ye be dead,  
And so in haste, will take you by the heels,  
As he did me, and swinge you in his creeles.   

Now, quoth the Wolf, I swear thee by my thrift,  
I fear the Carrier carl he will me bear:  
Sir, said the Fox, on loft he will you lift,  
Upon his creeles, and do him little dear:  
But one thing soothly I dare to you swear,  
Get ye that herring in some place sicker,  
You shall not need go a fishing more while Easter.   

I shall say in principio over you,  
And cross your corpse fro top to the fa,  
Wend when you will I dare warrant you,  
That ye shall die no sudden death this day.  
With that the Wolf girt him up, and away,  
And cast a compass before the Carrier far,  
So laid him down in the way, or he came na●●e.   

He laid the side of his head both hard and sad,  
So stretched his forefeet fro him and his head,  
And hung his tongue forth as the Fox him bad,  
Also still he lay as he had been dead,  
Caring nothing of the Carls favour nor feud:  
But ever upon the neckherring he thinks,  
And quite forgets the Fox and all his wrinkes.   

With that the Carrier wavering as the wind,  
Came riding on the load for it was light,  
Thinking on the Fox that was behind,  
Upon what wise, revenged on him he might,  
And at the last on the Wolf he hath the sight,  
Where be in length lay stretched in the gate,  
But if he lighted down, or not, God wait.   

Softly he said, I was beguiled once,  
Be I beguiled twice. I be shrew us bathe,  
That evil now shall light upon thy bones,  
He should have had it that hath done me the scathe,  
On high he lifted the staff for he was wrath,  
And ●it him with such will upon the head,  
That wellnear he swooned to the dead.   

Three bats he bore, or he his feet might find,  
But yet the Wolf was wight and ran away,  
He might not see, he was so very blind,  
Nor wit readily whether it were night or day.  
The Fox beheld that service where he lay,  
And leight aloft, when he the Wolf so sees,  
Both deaf and stonnishst, fall swooning on his knees.   

He that with reason cannot be content,  
But covets all, is likely all to loose:  
The Fox when that he saw the Wolf was shent,  
Said to himself, these herrings with me goes,  
I lie, or else he after got blows,  
That found such ways his master for to grieve,  
With all the fish thus Laurence took his leave.   

The Wolf he was, well-near done to dead,  
That uneath with his life away he ran▪  
With the Bastianado, broken was his head,  
The Fox into his den soon drew him than,  
That had betrayed his master, and the man,  
The one wanted the herrings out of his creeles,  
The others blood it ran down by his heels.   

Morality.  

THis tale is mingled with morality,  
As I shall show somewhat or that I cease,  
The Fox, unto the world may likened ●ee▪  
The ravening Wolf unto man, but lease  
The Carrier death, whom all men do oppress,  
That ever took life, through course of kind must die,  
As man and beast, and fowls aloft that fly.   

The world ye wo●e, is steward to the man,  
Which maketh him have no mind of dead,  
But sets for winning all the crafts be ●an▪  
The herring, I liken unto the gold so r●ad,  
Which made the Wolf in peril put his ●ead,  
Right so the gold, maketh ●andes and cities  
With war be wasted, daily as men sees.   

And as the Fox, dissembling with guile,  
Made the Wolf ween to have worship for ever:  
Right so this world with vainglory for a while,  
Flattereth with folk as they should die never▪  
Yet suddenly men seeth it often dissever  
With them, that thinks to ●ll at length the se●ke,  
Death comes behind; and ●●ps them by the neck.   

The getting of gold makes many so blind,  
That sets on avarice their fe●●citce,  
That they forget the Carrier comes behind,  
To strike them off, what ●●a●e so ere they be:  
What is more dark than blind prosperiter?  
Wherefore, I council ●●●che men to have mind,  
Of the Neckherring, interpret in this kind.    
FINIS.   

The excellent tale of the wily Laurence Fox, that beguiled the covetous crafty Wol●e, with the shadow of the Moon.  

IN elder days as Esope can declare,  
There was a husband man which had a ●low to ●●eare,  
His use was a● in morning to rise rare,  
So it happened him, in stirring time of year●,  
Early in the morning to follow forth his fear●,  
Unto the psough only his gadman and he,  
His Oxen he blessed, with Be●●dicite.   

The driver cried hop, ho●● on height,  
Well drawn my downs so spoke them fair,  
The Oxen were lusty young and light,  
And for fierceness they laid the sorrow for fair:  
The husband than wore angry as a hare,  
So cried and cast his patel and great stones,  
The Wolf, quoth ●e might have y● all at ones.   

But yet the Wolf was nearer than he wen●,  
For in a bush he lay, and▪ Laurence bathe,  
Among rough sh●ub was at the ●urrowes end,  
And heard the height, than Laurence ●aught full rath,  
To take yo●d offer, quoth ●e it were no s●ath:  
Well, quoth the Wolf, I hold thee her● my hand,  
The Carls word, as he were king shall stand.   

The Oxen waxed more rul● at the last,  
So after they lowse when it was somewhat late,  
The husband homeward with his ●attell p●st:  
Then soon the Wolf came hopping in his gate,  
Before the Oxen, and shope to make debate:  
The husband saw him and was somewhat aghast,  
And backward with his beasts, would have passed.   

The Wolf said whether drives thou this pray?  
I challenge it▪ for none of them are thine,  
The ma● thereat was in a felon fray,  
And soberly to the Wolf, answered sine:  
Sir by my soul these Oxen are all mine,  
Therefore I●nuse, now why y● should stop me,  
Considering I never, offended▪ you truly.   

The Wolf said Carl, didst thou not give this drift,  
Early, when thou was ear-ring ●n you bank?  
And is ther● any thing mor● fr●er than gift?  
This ●arrying, will loose thee a● thy thanks,  
Far better ●is freely for to give a plank,  
Nor be compelled by force, to give a mart,  
Fie on that gift, that comes not with good heart.   

Sir, quoth the husband, a man may say in grief,  
A word and call again, if he advise and see,  
I promise' to ste●le, am I therefore a thief?  
God forbidden si●, all heights should holden be,  
Gave I my hand or obligation, quoth he,  
Or have ye witness, or writing here to shaw,  
Sir trouble me not, but go● and seek the law.   

Carle, quoth the Wolf, a Lord and he be leill,  
That shrinks for shame, or doubts to be reproved,  
His word is as sure as his feill:  
Fie on that man that is not true and loved,  
Thy argument is false, and eke contraried:  
For it is said in Proverb, ye may see,  
All other virtues is naught worth a flee.   

Sir said the husband, remember this thing,  
A true man is not taken at half a word here,  
I may say, and unsay, I am not a king:  
Where is your witness, I promised you this gear?  
Than said the Wolf, therefore he shall come near,  
Laurence (quoth he) come out of that shaw,  
And say nothing but as thou heard and saw.   

Laurence came louring, for he loud never light,  
And soon appeared before them in that place,  
The man laughed not, when he saw that sight:  
Laurence (quoth the Wolf) thou must declare the ●ace,  
Whereof we shall show the truth in short space,  
I have called thee true witness to bear,  
What heard thou, this man promiss me here.   

Sir said the Tod, I cannot hastily,  
So soon as now give sentence final,  
But would you both submit you here to me,  
To stand to my decree perpetual,  
To please both I should prove, if it may fall:  
Well (quoth the Wolf) I am content for me,  
The man said, so am I, how ever it be.   

Then show they forth and allege without Fable,  
And both propones their plea to him compleet,  
(Quoth Laurence) now I am a judge amiable,  
You shallbe sworn to stand at my decreet,  
Whether hereafter ye think it sour or sweet:  
The Wolf put forth his foot, the man his hand:  
And on the Tods tail sworn they are to stand.   

Then took the Tod the man a little beside,  
And said to him, friend, thou art in trouble brought:  
The Wolf will not forgive thee one ox hide,  
Yet would myself fain help thee and I might,  
But I am loath to hurt my conscience in aught,  
Loose not thy quarrel in thine own defence,  
This will not through withouten great expense.   

Seest thou not bribes bears all the sway now?  
And gifts makes crooked matters hold even?  
Sometimes an hen, saves a man a fow,  
All are not holy that heaves their hands to heaven:  
Sir said the man, ye shall have six or seven  
Right of the fattest hens of all the flock,  
I count not all the rest, leave me the Cock.   

I am a judge, quoth Laurence, then and lough,  
There is no bribes shall bar me fro the right,  
I may take Hens and Capons well enough,  
For God is gone to sleep as for this night,  
Such small things are not seen in his sight,  
These hens, quoth he, shall make thy matter sure,  
With empty hand no man should hawks lure.   

Agreed thus, then Laurence took his leave,  
As to the Wolf he went into a linge,  
So privily he plucked him by the sleeve,  
Is this in earnest, quoth he, ye ask such thing,  
Nay by my soul I trow it be in jesting,  
Then said the Wolf, Laurence why sayst thou so?  
Thou heardst his promiss thyself not long ago.   

The height (quoth he) the man made at the plough,  
Is that the cause why ye the cattle crave:  
Was half in jest (said Laurence then) and lough,  
Sir by the toode me thinks that now ye rave,  
The Devil at all one tail that ye shall have,  
Think you I'll take upon my conscience,  
To do so poor a man as he offence?   

Yet have I commoned with the Carl, quoth he,  
We are accorded upon this covenant,  
Quite of all claims so ye will make him fire,  
You shall a Cabbock have into your hand,  
That such a one shall not be in all this land.  
For it is a Summer cheese both fresh and good,  
He saith it ways a stone down by the rood.   

Is that thy counsel, quoth the Wolf, I do,  
That yond Carl for a cheese should be hei?  
Yea by my soul and I were sworn you to,  
You should no other counsel have for me,  
For go ye to the most extremity,  
It will not win you worth a withered nepe,  
Sir trow ye not I have a soul to keep?   

Well, quoth the Wolf, it is against my will,  
That yond cattle for one cheese should go quite,  
Sir (quoth the Tod) take it not in ill,  
For by my soul yourself had all the wit:  
Then, said the Wolf, I bide no more to stitte,  
But I would see the Cabboke of such prize,  
For, said the Tod, he told me where it lies.   

Then hand in hand, they walked to an hill,  
The husband towards his house hath ta●e the way,  
For he was glad be seaped from their ill,  
And on his feet did walk while once did the day:  
Now will we turn unto the other t●ay,  
Through woods waste these freekes forth can fore,  
Fro bush to bush, till near midnight and more.   

Laurence was ever remembering upon wrinkes,  
And suttilties, the Wolf for to beguile,  
That he had promised a chief, be forethinkes.  
Yet at the last he findeth forth one wile,  
That to himself softly could he smile:  
The Wolf says, Laurence thou plays belly blind,  
We seek all night, but nothing can we find.   

Sir, said the Tod, we are at it almost,  
Soft you a little, and ye shall see it soon,  
Then to a manor place they hied in haste,  
The night was light and fair ●hone the moon:  
Then to a draw well these seniors both are come,  
Where that two beckets hung ●●uerall, it was so,  
As one came up, an other down would go.   

The sh●●ow of the Mo●●e sh●●e in the well,  
Sir, said Laurence, once ye shall find me ●eill,  
Now see it not the ch●●se that I you tell,  
White as any milk and round as any ●●ele,  
He hanged it yonder that no man should it steel,  
Sir trust me well, the cabboke ye see hang,  
Might be a present to a Lord or King.   

Nay, quoth the Wolf, might I this cabbok have,  
On the dry land as I it yonder see,  
I would qu●te claim the Carl of all I erave:  
His dirty Ox●● I c●re not for a ●●e●,  
You were more me●te for such a man as me:  
Laurence, quoth he, leap in the bucket soon,  
And I shall hold the one, while thou go down.   

Laurence gird down both soon and suttilly,  
The other bode abou● and held the flail,  
It is so much, quoth Laurence, it masters me,  
On all my toes it hath not left one nail:  
You must needs help upward, and it hail,  
Leap in the other bucket man hastily,  
And come soon down and help me by and by.   

Then lightly in the bucket leapt the ●owne,  
His weight strays made the other ●nd ar●●●,  
The Tod came merrily up, the Wolf yeed down,  
Then angrily the Wolf upon him cries,  
I coming thus downward, why thou upward hies?  
Sir, quoth the Fox, thus fares it often in town,  
As one comes up, so goeth another down.   

Then to the ground soon went the Wolf in haste,  
The Tod leapt on land as blyeth as any bell,  
And left the Wolf in water to the waist,  
Who hauled him out I wot not of the well:  
Here ends the text I have no more to tell,  
Yet may men find some good morality,  
In this sentence, though it a Fable be.   

Morality.  

THe Wolf I liken to a wicked man,  
Which doth the poor oppress in ery place:  
And pikes at them all quarrels that he can,  
By rigour, rape, and other wickedness,  
The Fox the fiend, I call into this case,  
Egging all men to run unrighteous reins,  
Thinking thereby to lock him in his chains.   

The husband may be called a godly man,  
With whom the fiend fault finds (as Clerks ●eedes)  
Busy to tempt him with all ways that he can:  
The hens are works, that fro firm faith proceeds,  
Where such sprouts spreads, the evil spirit there not speeds  
But wends unto the wicked man again,  
That he hath lost his travel is full fain.   

The woods waste, wherein was the Wolf wild,  
Are wicked riches, which all men gapes to get,  
Who trusts in such trustery, are often beguiled,  
For Mammon may be called the devils net,  
Which Sathanas, for all sinful folk hath set:  
Such proud pleasure who sets his trust therein,  
Without special grace lightly can out wine.   

The cheese may be called covetise,  
Which blometh broad in many men's eye,  
Woe worth the well of that wicked vice,  
For it is all but fraud and fantasy,  
Driving all men to leap into that buttery,  
That downward draws unto the pain of hell,  
Christ keep all Christians from that wicked well.    
FINIS.   

¶ The merry tale of the wolf and the Wether.  

Whilom there was, as Esope can report,  
A Shepherd dwelling by a forest near,  
Which had a Dog that did him great comfort,  
Full ware he was to keep his fold fro fear,  
That neither Wolf nor wildecat durst appear,  
Nor Fox on field, nor yet no other beast,  
But he them slew, or chased at the lest.   

So happenned it (as every beast must sleep)  
This Dog of sudden sickness to be dead,  
But than God wot the keeper of the sheep,  
For very woe wox wanner than the wead:  
Alas, quoth he, now see I no remead,  
To save these silly beasts that I now keep,  
For why the Wolf will weary all my sheep.   

It would have made a man's heart sore to see,  
The silly shepherd make such lamentation,  
Now is my darling dead alas, quoth he,  
For now to beg my bread I may be bown,  
With pike staff and with skrip fro town to town,  
For all the beasts before that bandoned wear,  
Will now return again, and all my sheep to tear.   

With that a Wether stoutly stood on foot,  
Master, quoth he, make merry and be light,  
To break your heart for bale, it is no boot,  
For one dead Dog ye must not take such flight,  
Go fetch him hither and flay his skin ere night,  
So sow it on me: and look that it be meet,  
Both head, and neck, body, tail, and feet.   

Then will the Wolf believe that I am he,  
For I shall follow him fast where ere he far,  
All hole the charge here I take upon me,  
Your sheep to keep at midday late and rayre,  
And he pursue, by God, I shall not spare,  
To follow him as fast as did your dog,  
So that I warrant, ye shall not want a hog.   

Than said the Shepherd, this comes of a good wit,  
Thy counsel is both good, faithful, and true,  
Who says a sheeps a wretch, they lie of it:  
With that in haste the dogs skin of he flew,  
And on the sheep right softly could it sew,  
Than was the wether wanton of his weed,  
Now of the Wolf, quoth he, I have no dread.   

In all things he counterfeit the dog,  
For all the night he stood and took no sleep,  
So that long time there wanted not an hog,  
So ware he was, and watchful them to keep,  
That Laurence durst not look upon a sheep,  
For and he did, he followed him so fast,  
That of his life he made him all aghast.   

Was nother Wolf, wildeeat, nor yet Tod,  
Dared come within the bounds all about:  
But he would chase them both throw rough and snot,  
These baylefull beasts had of their lives such doubt,  
For he was great and seemed to be stout,  
That every beast did dread him and eke fear,  
Without the wood that none durst once appear.   

It happened there an hungry Wolf to slide,  
Out throw his sheep where as they did lie,  
I shall one have, quoth he, what ever betide,  
Though I be wearied, or else I will dle:  
With that a Lamb he got by and by,  
The rest start up, for they were all aghast,  
But (God wot) if the Wether followed fast.   

Went never hound more hastily from the hand,  
When he was running most rashly forth roe,  
Nor went this weather over moss and strand,  
And stopped neither at bank, busk, nor bro,  
But followed still, aye fiercely on his foe,  
With such a drift, while dust & dirt overdrave him,  
And made a vow to God that he would have him.   

With that the Wolf let out his tail at length,  
For he was hungry, and it drew near even,  
And shope him for to run with all his strength,  
When he the weather so near coming had seen,  
He dread his life, and he had taken been,  
Therefore he spared neither busk nor bog,  
For well he knew the kindness of the Dog.   

To make him light he cast the Lamb him fro,  
So leapt o'er leys & ran through dirt and mire,  
Nay (quoth the Wether) in faith we part not so,  
It is not the Lamb, but thee that I desire,  
I shall come near for now I see thee tire,  
The Wolf ran still and durst not look behind him,  
But aye the nearer the weather he could wind him.   

Soon after that he followed him so near,  
While that the Wolf for fear befiled the field,  
And left the way, and ran through bush and briar,  
And thought within the woods him for to shield,  
He ran still restless, or else he must needs yield,  
The weather followed him out and in,  
While that a briar bush, tare rudely off the skin.   

The Wolf was ware and blinked him behind,  
And saw the weather come flinging through the briar;  
So saw the dog skin hanging on the lynd,  
Nay (quoth he i● this ye that is so near?  
Right now a hound, and now white as a friar,  
I fled over far, and I had known the case,  
To God I vow that ye shall rue this race.   

What was the cause ye gave me such a catch?  
With that in hast he took him by the horn,  
For all your wiles, you met once with your match,  
Suppose ye laughed ●e all this year to scorn,  
For what treason have ye this dogs▪ skin borne?  
Master quoth he, but even to play with you,  
I you require that ye none other trow.   

Is this your jesting in earnest then, quoth he,  
For I am very fearful and also float,  
Come back again and I shall let you see.  
Then where the way was bewrayed he him brote,  
Whether call ye this fair play or not?  
To set your master in so fell afray,  
The which for fear thus filled hath the way.   

Thrice by my soul ye made me look behind,  
And upon my hotches my sinews may be se●ne,  
For feardnesse full oft I field the wind,  
Now is this ye: nay but a Dog I ween,  
My thinks your teeth o'er short to be so keen,  
Blessed be the bush, that reft you your array,  
cl flying bursten had I been this day.   

Sir (quoth the weather) suppose I ran in high,  
My mind was never to do your person ill,  
The flear gets the follower commonly,  
In play or earnest, prove who so ever will,  
Since I but played, be gracious me until,  
And I shall make my friends to bless your bones,  
For sure good servant will help his master once.   

I have often times been set in great affray,  
But by the rood so rayed yet was I never,  
As thou hast made me with thy pretty play,  
I shoot behind when thou over took me ever,  
But certainly now shall we not dissever,  
Then by the neckebone surely he him took,  
Or ever he ceased, and it in sunder shook.   

Morality.  

ESope that Poet first father of this Fable,  
Wrote this parable which is convenient,  
Because the sentence was fruitful and agreeable,  
In morality examplative prudent,  
Whose problems been very excellent,  
Through similitudes of figures to this day,  
Gives doctrine to the readers of it for aye.   

Here may thou see that riches of array,  
Will 'cause poor men presumptuous for to be,  
Then think to hold of none be they as gay,  
But counterfeit a Lord in every degree,  
Out of knowledge in pride they climb so high,  
That they will forbear their better in no stead,  
Till some man turn, their heels over their head.   

Right so in service other some exceeds,  
And they have wages, wealth and cherishing,  
That they will be lightly Lords in deeds,  
And look not to their blood and offspring,  
But yet none knows how long that rule will ring,  
But he was wise that bade his son consider,  
Beware in wealth, for the hall bench is right slyder.   

Therefore I counsel men of every state,  
To know themself, and whom they should forbear,  
And fall not with their better in debate,  
Suppose they be as gallant in their gear:  
It cometh not a servant to bold war,  
Nor climb so high, while he fall of the lather,  
But think upon the Wolf and on the Wether.    
FINIS.   

The woeful tale of the cruel Wolf and the innocent Lamb.  

A Cruell Wolf right ravenous, and fell,  
Upon a time passed to a river,  
Descending from a rotch, unto a well,  
To slake his thirst drank of the water clear,  
So upon chance, a silly Lamb came near,  
But of his foe, the Wolf nothing he witted,  
And in the stream leapt to cool his thirst.   

They drank both but not of one intent,  
The Wolves thought was all on wickedness,  
The silly Lamb was meek and innocent,  
Upon the river in an other place,  
Beneath the Wolf, he drank a little space,  
While he thought good, thinking of none ill,  
The Wolf him saw, and rampant came him till.   

With grinning teeth, and fearful angry look,  
Said to the Lamb, thou caitiff wretched thing,  
How dared thou be so bold to file the brook,  
Where I should drink, with thy foul slavering?  
It were alms deed thee for to draw and hang.  
That should presume, with thy foul lips so vile,  
To mar my drink, and this fair water file.   

The silly Lamb quaking for very dread,  
On knees fell, and said sir with your leave,  
Suppose I dare not say, thereof ye lied:  
But by my soul, I wot ye can naught prove,  
That I did aught in any, that should you grieve,  
You wot also that your accusation,  
Bears no truth, and is against all reason.   

Though I cannot, nature will me defend,  
And of the deed perfit experience,  
All heavy things must of themselves descend,  
But if some things by force make resistance,  
Then may the stream in no way make ascence,  
Nor run backward: I drank beneath you far,  
Ergo, the water therefore I did not mar.   

Also my lips, since that I was a Lam,  
Touched no thing that was contagious,  
But sucked milk from paps of my dam,  
Right natural, sweet, and also delicious,  
Well, quoth the Wolf, thy language rigorous,  
Comes thee of kind: so thy father to,  
Held me at bay, till he no more could do.   

He angered me, and then I could him warn,  
Within one year and if I broke my head,  
I would be venged on him or on his barn,  
For his spiteful and froward pled,  
Thou shalt doubtless, for his deeds be dead.  
Sir it is wrong that for the father's gilt,  
The faultless son should punished be or spilled.   

Have it not heard what holy Scripture says,  
Spoken by the mouth of God almight?  
Of his own deeds each man shall bear the praise,  
As pains for sin, rewards for works right,  
For my trespass why should my son have plight?  
Who did the miss let him sustain the pain,  
A, A, (quoth the Wolf) yet answerest thou again.   

I let thee wit, when that the father offends,  
I will refuse none of his succession,  
And of his sons, I well may take amendss,  
Unto the twenty degree descending down,  
Thy father thought to make a strong poison,  
And with his mouth, in my water did it spew,  
Sir, quoth the Lam, these two are nothing true.   

The law saith, and ye will understand:  
There should no man for wrong or violence,  
His adversary punish at his own hand,  
Without process of law, and evidence,  
Which should have leave to make lawful defence,  
And thereupon summoned peremptorily,  
For to propone contrary, or reply.   

Set me a lawful court, I shall appear,  
Before the Lion Lord and true justice,  
And by my hand, I bind my faith right here,  
That I shall bide an unsuspect assize,  
This is the law, this is the instant guise.  
You should pretend therefore and summons make,  
Against that day to give reason and take.   

Nay (quoth the Wolf) thou wouldst intruse reason,  
Where wrong and robbery should devil in property,  
That is a point and part of false treason,  
For to make ruth remain with cruelty,  
By his wounds, false traitor, thou shalt die,  
For thy trespass and for thy father's deed,  
With that anon he caught him by the head.   

The silly Lamb could do nothing but bleat,  
Soon was he dead, the Wolf would show no grace,  
So drunk his blood, and of his flesh can eat,  
While he was full and went his way apace,  
Of this murder what shall we say alas?  
Was not this ruth, was not this great pity?  
To make this silly Lamb, without fault thus to die.   

Morality.  

THe poor people this Lamb may signify,  
As evil men, Merchants, and labourers,  
Of whom this life is half a purgatory,  
To win their food continually like misers,  
The Wolf betokeneth false extortioners,  
And oppressors of poor men as we see,  
By violence, craft, or usury.   

Three kinds of Wolves in this world remains,  
The first are false perverters of the laws,  
Which under suttill terms falsehood maintains,  
As though all were Gospel that he shows,  
But without bribe the poor he overthrows,  
Smothering the right, making wrong proceed,  
Of such Wolves, hells fire shall be their meed.   

O man of law let be thy futtletie,  
With nycequips, and frauds intricate:  
And think that God in his Divinity,  
The wrong & right of all thy works wait,  
For prayer, price, for high, nor low estate,  
Of false quarrels see thou make no defence,  
Hold with the right, hurt not thy conscience.   

another kind of Wolves ravenous,  
Are mighty men, having full great plenty,  
Which are so greedy and so covetous,  
They will not let the poor in peace be,  
Suppose he and his household both should die  
For fault of food, no care will they make,  
But over his head his house will they take.   

O man without mercy what is in thy thought,  
Were thou a Wolf, and could understand,  
Thou hast enough, the poor husband right naught,  
But little crop of corn upon a clot of land,  
(For God's awe) how durst thou take in hand,  
And thou thy Barns full, and yet dost egg,  
To put him fro his living, and make them to beg.   

The third Wolf are men of heritage,  
As Lords that have lands by God's leave,  
And let's out to poor men a village,  
And for the time incomes doth receive,  
Ece half spent the time, waxeth him and berene,  
With picked quarrels, for to make him feign,  
To flit, or pay his income new again.   

His horse, his ●are, ●e must lend to the Lord,  
To drudge and draw, in court or in carriage,  
His servant, or himself may not be spared,  
To swing, or sweat, withouten meat or wage,  
Thus how he stands in labour and bondage,  
That scantly can he purchase bear or wine,  
Course brown bread, or drink that is thin.   

Hast thou no pity to make thy tenants sweat,  
In thy labour with faint and hungry wome,  
And seest, hath little good to drink and eat,  
With his meinie, at even when he comes home,  
Thou shouldst fear for righteous God his doom,  
For it cries vengeance to the heavens high,  
To make poor men work, without meat or f●e.   

O thou great Lord that riches haste and rent:  
Be not a Wolf thus to devour the poor,  
Think that nothing cruel or violent,  
May in this world perpetually endure,  
Thus shouldst thou believe, and certainly assure,  
For to oppress thou shalt have as great pain,  
As thou the poor, hadst with thine own hand slain.   

God keep the Lamb (which is the innocent,)  
From Wolves bit, and fell extortioners,  
God grant that wrangling men of false intent,  
Be manifested, and punished as offenders,  
And God as thou all righteous prayers hears,  
To save our Queen, and give her heart and hand,  
All such Wolves, to banish out of the land.    
FINIS.   

¶ The tale of the woeful end of the paddock and the Mouse: showing the mischief of desemblers.  

Upon a time (as Esope could report)  
A little Mouse came to a river side.  
She might not wade, her legs were so short▪  
Neither could she swim, she had no horse to ride,  
Of very force behind ●er to bide,  
And to, and fro, besides the river deep,  
She ran crying with many pit●ous p●epe.   

Help over, help over, this silly Mouse can cry,  
For God's love, some body over the brim,  
With that a paddock in the water by,  
Put up her head, and on the bank 'gan climb,  
Which by nature could duck, and gaily swim,  
With voice full rank, she said on this manner,  
Good morn sir Mouse what is your errand here.   

Seest thou (quoth she) of corn yond jolly plat,  
Of ripe Oats, of Barley, Pease, and Wheat,  
I am hungry, and fain would be thereat,  
But I am stopped by this water great,  
And on this side I get nothing to eat,  
But hard nuts, which with my teeth I bore,  
Were I beyond, my feast were much the more.   

I have no boat, here is no mariner:  
And though there were, I have no fraught to pay,  
(Quoth she sister) let be thy heavy cheer,  
Do my counsel, and I shall find the way,  
Without Horse, Bridge, boat, or else gallay,  
To bring thee over safely, be not afeard:  
And not once to wet the compass of thy beard.   

I have great wonder quoth the little Mous,  
How can thou float, without feather or fin:  
This river is so deep and dangerous,  
Me thinks, that thou shouldst drowned be therein,  
Tell me therefore, what faculty or gin,  
Thou hast, to bring thee o'er this water wan?  
That to declare, the paddock thus began.   

With my two feet (quoth she) long and brade,  
In steed of oars I row the stream full still,  
And though the bryme be perilous to wade,  
Both too and fro, I row at mine own will,  
I may not drown for why my open gill,  
Devoydes all the water I receive,  
Therefore to drown forsooth no dread I have.   

The Mouse beheld then her frowning face,  
Her wrinkled cheeks, and her lips side:  
Her hanging brows, and her voice so harce,  
Her lagring legs, and her harsky hide,  
She ran a back and on the Paddock cried,  
If I can any skill of Phisnomy,  
Thou haste some part of false villainy.   

For Clerks says, the inclination,  
Of man's thought, proceeds commonly,  
After the corporal complexion,  
To good or evil as nature will apply,  
A froward will and crabbed Phisnomy,  
The old Proverb, is witness of this lorum,  
Distortum vultum, sequitur distortio morum.   

Nay (quoth the Frog) that Proverb is not true,  
For fair things oft-times are found infakin,  
The Blaberies though they be sad of hue,  
Are gathered up when primrose is forsaken,  
The face may fail, to be the hearts token,  
Therefore I find this written in each place,  
Thou shouldst not judge a man after his face.   

Though I be irksome for to look upon,  
There is no cause why I should lacked be,  
Were I as fair as jolly Absalon,  
I am no causer of that great beauty,  
This difference in form and quality,  
Almighty God hath caused dame nature,  
To print and set in every his creature.   

Of some the face may be full flourishing,  
With silken tongue, and cheer right amorous,  
With mind inconstant, false, and varying,  
Full of deceit, and means cautelous,  
Let be thy preaching (quoth the hungry Mouse)  
And by what means now make me understand,  
That thou canst help me unto yonder land.   

Thou knowest, quoth she, a body that hath need,  
To help themself, should many ways cast,  
Therefore go get a double twined thread,  
And bind thy leg to mine, with knots fast,  
I shall thee learn to swim, be not aghast,  
(As well as I) As thou, than quoth the Mous,  
To prove that play, it were right perilous.   

Should I be bound, and fast, that now am free,  
In hope of help, nay then beshrew my head,  
For I might loose, both life and liberty,  
If it were so who should amend the deed?  
But if thou wilt swear to help me with speed,  
Without fraud, or guile, to bring me o'er the flood,  
And without hurt or harm in faith, quoth she, good.   

She goyked up, and to the heaven can cry:  
O jupiter of nature God and King,  
I make an oath truly to thee, that I  
This little Mouse shall over this water bring,  
This oath was made, the Mouse without perceiving,  
The false engine of this foul carping Pad,  
Took thread, and bound her leg as she her bad.   

Then foot for foot, they lap both in the brim,  
But in their minds they were right different,  
The Mouse thought of nothing, but for to swim,  
The Paddock for to drown set his intent,  
When they in midway of the stream near went,  
With all her force the Paddock pressed down,  
And thought the Mouse without mercy to drown.   

Perceiving this, the Mouse on her can cry,  
Traitor to God and forsworn unto me,  
Thou tookest upon thy faith, right now, that I  
Without hurt or harm, should ferried be and free,  
And when she saw, there was but do, or dee,  
Withal her might, she forced herself to swim:  
And pressed upon the Toads back for to climb.   

The dread of death, her strength made increase,  
And forced her defend with might, and main,  
The Mouse upward: the Paddock down can pres,  
While to, while fro, while dowked up again,  
This silly Mouse plunged into great pain,  
Can fight as long as breath was in her breast,  
Till at the last she cried for the priest.   

Fight thus together, the kite sat on a twist,  
And to this wretched battle took good heed,  
And with a whisk, or any of them witted,  
He clenchet his talens betwixt them on the thread,  
So to the land he flew with them good speed,  
Glad of that catch, piping with many pew:  
So loosed them, and without pity slew.   

Then bowelled them that butcher with his bill,  
And belly drawn full featly them he flayed,  
But all their flesh, would scant be half a fill,  
And guts also unto that greedy gleed.  
Of their debate thus when I heard the reed,  
He took his flight and over the fields flaw,  
If this be not true, then ask of them that saw.   

Morality.  

MY brother if thou will take advertence,  
By this Fable thou may perceive and see,  
It passes far all kind of pestilence,  
A wicked mind fraught with words fair and s●ee,  
Beware therefore with whom thou matchest thee,  
For thee were better go to cart and plough,  
And all thy days to delve in wet and dry,  
Than to be matched with a wicked fellow.   

A false intent under a fair pretence,  
Hath caused many an innocent to die,  
Great folly it is to give oversoon credence,  
To all that speaks fairly unto thee,  
A silken tongue, an heart of cruelty,  
Smites more sore than any shot of arrow,  
Brother if thou be wise, I read thee flee,  
To match thee with a feigned froward fellow.   

I warrant thee also, it is great negligence,  
To bind thee fast, where thou were frank & free,  
When thou art bound, thou can make no defence,  
To save thy life, nor yet thy liberty.  
This simple counsel brother take of me,  
And it to con forth both early and late,  
Better without strife, to live alone we see,  
Than to be matched with a wicked mate.   

This hold in mind, right more I shall thee tell,  
What by these beasts may be fygurate.  
The paddock using in the flood to dwell,  
Is man's body, swimming rare and late,  
In this wretched world with cares implicate,  
Now high, now low, whiles plunged up, whiles down,  
Continually in peril, and ready for to drown.   

Now dolorous, now glad as bird on breere,  
Now in freedom, now wrapped in distress,  
Now hole and sound, now dead & brought on beer,  
Now poor as job, now rolling in riches.  
Now gowns gay, now rags laid in press,  
Now full as pease, now hungry as the hound,  
Now hoist on wheel, now thrown upon the ground.  
This little mouse, here knit thus by the shin,  
The soul of man betoken may indeed,  
Bound, and from the body may not win,  
While cruel death come break of life the thread,  
The which to drown should ever stand in dread  
Of carnal lust, by the suggestion,  
Which draws the soul continually a down.   

The water is the world ay weltering  
With many waves of tribulation:  
In which the soul and body be stirring  
Standing right different in their opinion,  
The soul upward, the body preaces down,  
The soul right feign would be brought over iwis,  
Out of this world, into the heavens bliss.   

The Right is death, that cometh suddenly,  
As doth a thief, and endeth soon the battle:  
Be vigilant therefore, and still ready,  
For man's life is brickle and ay mortal.  
My friend therefore make thee a strong wall,  
Of faith in Christ: for death will the assay,  
Thou know'st not when, even morrow or midday.   

Adieu my friend: and if that any ask  
Of these Fables, so shortly I conclude,  
Say thou I left the rest, unto the learneds task,  
To make example, and some simlitude.  
Now Christ for us that died on the rood,  
Of soul and life, as thou art saviour,  
Grant us to pass into a blessed hour.   
Finished in the vale of Aylesburie the thirteenth of August. Anno Domini. 1574.    

THE EPILOGUE.  

BEhold ye men) Esope that noble clerk  
Although of body yformed wondrous ill,  
His fables wrote with wisdom deep and dark  
To stir our minds (to good which had no will)  
By beasts and fowls, he spoke to warn us still,  
As Fox, Wolf, sheep, dog, cock and hen,  
To stir our minds to live on earth like men.   

It's writ of old by authors that are past,  
That Esope was crook backed, great belly & head,  
Crook legged, splay foot, & like a Cow in waist  
Yet virtuous of his life, as it is seed,  
Whose good examples lives though he be dead,  
In each man's mouth, and shall do still for ay.  
Lo virtue brings forth fruit without decay.   

Thus as ye hear ill shapen of his body,  
Yet of his mind none perfecter than he:  
But mark his Saws, and ye find him no noddy,  
But perfect ay, as perfect lo may be,  
Who lends you light good virtuous ways to see.  
Then love this work, and and read it at your will,  
I but eclipse his tales of so great skill.   
FINIS.