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(46) [ F4v-F5r (Page 88-89) ] -
	88		The Fabillis
	
	
	And at the last, of the volff gat ane sicht,
	Quhair he in lenth lay streikit in the gait.
	Bot giff he lichtit doun, or nocht, God wait.
	
	
	Softlie he said, I wes begylit anis,
	Be I begylit twyis, I schrew vs baith.
	That euill bat it sall licht vpon thy banis,
	He suld haue had, that hes done me the skaith.
	On hicht he houit the staf for he wes wraith.
	And hit him with sic will vpon the heid,
	Quhill neir he swonit, and swelt in to that steid.
	
	
	Thre battis he bure, or he his feit micht find.
	Bot zit the volff wes wicht, and wan away.
	He mycht not se, he wes sa verray blind.
	Nor wit reddilie quhether it wes nicht or day.
	The foxe beheld that seruice quhair he lay,
	And leuch on loft, quhen he the volff sa seis,
	Baith deif, and dosinnit, fall swonand on his kneis.
	
	
	He that of ressoun can not be content,
	Bot couetis all, is abill all to tyne.
	The foxe, quhen that he saw the volff wes schent,
	Said to him self, thir hering sall be myne.
	I le, or ellis he wes efterwart fyne,
	That fand sic wayis his maister for to greif,
	With all the fische thus lowrence tuke his leif.
	
	
	The volff wes neir weill dungin to the deid,
	That vneith with his lyfe away he wan.
	
	
			Off Esope.			89
	
	
	For with the bastoun weill brokin wes his heid.
	The foxe in to his den sone drew him than,
	That had betraisit his maister, and the man.
	The ane, wantit the hering off his creillis.
	The vtheris blude wes rynnand ouer his heillis.
	
	
	Moralitas.
	
	
	This taill is myngit with moralitie,
	
	
	As I sall schaw sumquhat, or that I ceis.
	The foxe, vnto the warld may likkinnit be.
	The reuand wolf, vnto ane man but leis.
	The cadgear deith, quhome vnder all man preis,
	That euer tuke lyfe, throw cours of kynd man dee.
	As man, and beist, and fische in to the see.
	
	
	The warld ze wait, is stewart to the man.
	Quhilk makis man to haif na mynd of deid.
	Bot settis for winning all the craftis thay can.
	The hering, I likkin vnto the gold sa reid,
	Quhilk gart the wolf, in perrell put his heid.
	Richt swa the gold garris landis and cieteis,
	With weir, be waistit daylie as men seis.
	
	
	And as the foxe, with dissimulance and gyle,
	Gart the wolf wene to haif worschip for euer.
	Richt swa, this warld with vane glore for ane quhyle,
	Flatteris with folk, as thay suld failze neuer.
	Zit suddandlie men seis it oft disseuer
	With thame, that trowis oft to fill the sek.
	Deith cummis behind, and nippis thame be the nek,
	
	
	The micht of gold makis mony men sa blind

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