(39) [ E5v-E6r (Page 74-75) ]

74 The Fabillis

Weill quod the swallow freindes hardilie beid.
Do as ze will, bot certane sair I dreid,
Heirefter ze sall find als sour, as sweit,
Quhen ze ar speldit on zone carlis speit.

The awner off zone lint, ane fouler is,
Richt cautelous, and full off subteltie.
His pray full sendill tymis will he mis,
Bot giff we birdis all the warrer be.
Full mony off our kin he hes gart de
And thocht it bot ane sport to spill thair blude.

God keip me fra him, and the halie rude.

Thir small birdis haueand bot lytill thocht
Off perrell that mycht fall be auenture,
The counsell off the swallow set at nocht,
Bot tuke thair flicht, and furth togidder fure.
Sum to the wode sum markit to the mure.
I tuke my staff, quhen this wes said and done,
And walkit hame, for it drew neir the none.

The lynt ryipit, the carll pullit the lyne:
Rippillit the bollis, and in beitis set.
It steipit in the burne, and dryit syne:
And with ane bittill knokkit it, and bet.
Syne swingillit it weill, and hekkillit in the flet.
His wyfe it span, and twynit it in to threid.
Off quhilk the fowlar nettis maid in deid.

The wynter come, the wickit wind can blaw:

Off Esope. 75

The woddis grene wer wallowit with the weit.
Baith firth and fell with froistys wer maid faw,
Slonkis and slaik maid slidderie with the sleit.
The foulis fair for falt thay fell off feit.
On bewis bair it wes na bute to byde,
Bot hyit vnto housis thame to hyde.

Sum in the barn, sum in the stak off corne,
Thair lugeing tuke, and maid thair residence.
The fowlar saw, and grit aithis hes sworne,
Thay suld be tane trewlie for thair expence.
His nettis hes he set with diligence,
And in the snaw he schulit hes ane plane,
And heillit it all ouer with calf agane.

Thir small birdis seand the calff wes glaid.
Trowand it had bene corne thay lychtit doun.
Bot of the nettis na presume thay had,
Nor of the fowlaris fals intentioun.
To scraip, and seik thair meit thay maid thame boun,
The swallow on ane lytill branche neir by,
Dreiddand for gyle, thus loud on thame couth cry.

Into that calf scraip quhill zour naillis bleid,
Thair is na corne, ze laubour all in vane.
Trow ze zone churll for pietie will zow feid.
Na, na, he hes it heir layit for ane trane.
Remoue I reid, or ellis ze will be slane.
His nettis he hes set full priuely.