94 The Fabillis
All ar not halie, that heifis thair handis to heuin.
Schir said the man ze sall haue sex, or seuin
Richt off the fattest hennis off all the floik.
I compt not all the laif, leif me the coik.
I am ane iuge quod lowrence than and leuch.
Thair is na buddis suld beir me by the rycht.
I may tak hennis, and caponis weill aneuch,
For God is gane to sleip, as for this nycht.
Sic small thingis ar not sene in to his sicht.
Thir hennis (quod he) sall mak thy querrell sure
With emptie hand na man suld halkis lure.
Concordit thus than lowrence tuke his leiff,
And to the volff he went in to ane ling.
Syne preuelie, he plukkit him be the sleiff,
Is this in ernist (quod) he ze ask sic thing?
Na be my saull, I trow it be in heithing.
Than said the volff, lowrence, quhy sayis thou sa?
Thow hard the hecht thy selff, that he couth ma.
The hecht quod he zone man maid at the pleuch,
Is that the cause quhy ze the cattell craif?
Halff in to heithing said lowrence than and leuch.
Schir, be the rude, vnroikit now ze raif.
The deuill ane stirk taill thairfoir sall ze haif.
Wald I tak it vpon my conscience,
To do sa pure ane man as zone offence.
Zit haif I commonnit with the carll quod he
Off Esope 95
We ar concordit vpon this cunnand.
Quyte off all clamis swa ze will mak him fre,
Ze sall ane cabok haue in to zour hand.
That sic ane sall not be in all this land.
For it is somer cheis, baith fresche and fair.
He sayis it weyis ane stane, and sumdeill mair.
Is that thy counsell quod the volff I do,
That zone carll for ane cabok suld be fre?
Ze be my saull, and I wer sworne zow to,
Ze suld nane vther counsell haue for me.
For gang ze to the maist extremitie,
It will not wyn zow worth ane widderit neip.
Schir trow ze not I have ane saull to keip
Weill quod the volff it is aganis my will,
That zone carll for ane cabok suld ga quyte.
Schir (quod the tod) ze tak it in nane euill.
For be my saull zour self had all the wyte.
Than said the volff I bid na mair to flyte.
Bot I wald se zone cabok off sic pryis.
Schir (said the tod) he tauld me quhair it lyis.
Than hand in hand, thay held vnto ane hill.
The husband till his hous hes tane the way.
For he wes fane, he schaippit from thair ill,
And on his feit woke the dure quhill day.
Now will we turne vnto the vther tway.
Throw woddis waist thir freikis on fute can fair,
Fra busk to busk, quhill neir midnycht and mair.