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(16) [ B6v-B7r (Page 28-29) ]

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(16) [ B6v-B7r (Page 28-29) ] -
	28		The Fabillis
	
	
	For thy as now schortlie to conclude,
	Thir twa sinnis, flatterie, and vaneglore,
	Ar vennomous gude ffoolk fle thame thairfoir.
	
	
	Finis.
	
	
	The taill how this foirsaid tod, maid 
	his confessioun to freir volf Vaitskaith.
	
	
	Leif we this vedow glaid I zow assure,
	Off chantecleir, mair blyith than I can tell.
	And speik we off the fatal auenture.
	And destenie that to this foxe befell,
	Quhilk durst na mair with miching intermell,
	Als lang as leme or licht wes off the day,
	Bot bydand nicht full styll lurkand he lay.
	
	
	Quhill that thetes the Goddes off the flude,
	Phebus had callit to the harbery.
	
	
	And hesperous put of his cluddie hude,
	Schawand his lustie visage in the sky.
	Than lourence luikit vp, quhair he couth ly,
	And kest his hand vpon his ee on hicht,
	Merie and glade that cummit wes the nicht.
	
	
	Out off the wod vnto ane hill he went,
	Quhair he micht se the tuinkling sternis cleir.
	And all the planetis off the firmament,
	Thair cours, and eik thair mouing in thair spheir.
	Sum retrograde, and sum stationeir.
	
	
			Off Esope.			29
	
	
	And off the zodiak in quhat degre,
	Thay wer ilk ane, as lowrence leirnit me.
	
	
	Than saturne auld wes enterit in capricorne,
	And iuppiter mouit in sagittarie.
	And mars vp in the rammis heid wes borne.
	And phebus in the lyoun furth can carie.
	Venus the crab, the mone wes in aquarie,
	Mercurius the God off eloquence,
	Into the virgyn maid his residence.
	
	
	But astrolab, quadrant, or almanak,
	Teichit off nature be instructioun,
	The mouing off the heuin this tod can tak,
	Quhat influence and constellatioun,
	Wes lyke to fall vpon the eirth adoun.
	And to him self he said withoutin mair,
	Weill worth the father, that send me to the lair.
	
	
	My destenie, and eik my weird I watt,
	My auenture is cleirlie to me kend.
	With mischeif myngit is my mortall fait,
	My misleuing the soner bot I mend.
	Deid is reward off sin and schamefull end.
	Thairfoir I will ga seik sum confessour,
	And schryiff me clene off all sinnis to this hour.
	
	
	Allace quod he richt waryit ar we theuis.
	Our lyif is set ilk nicht in auenture.
	Our cursit craft full mony man mischeuis,

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