(56) [ G6v-G7r (Page 108-109) ]

108 The Fabillis

That I sall byde ane vnsuspect assyis.
This is the law: this is the instant wyis:
Ze suld pretend thairfoir ane summondis mak,
Aganis that day, to gif ressoun, and tak.

Ha (quod the volff) thou wald intruse ressoun,
Quhair wrang, and reif suld duell in propertie.
That is ane poynt, and part of fals tressoun,
For to gar reuth remane with crueltie.
Be Goddis woundis, fals tratour, thow sall de,
For thy trespas, and for thy fatheris als.
With that anone he hint him be the hals.

The selie lamb culd do na thing bot bleit.
Sone wes he hedit: the volff wald do na grace.
Syne drank his blude, and off his flesche can eit,
Quhill he wes full, syne went his way on pace.
Off his murther quhat sall we say allace?
Wes not this reuth, wes not this grit pietie?
To gar this selie lamb but gilt thus de.

Moralitas.

The pure pepill, this lamb may signifie,
As maill men, merchandis, and all lauboureris.
Of quhome the lyfe is half ane purgatorie,
To wyn with lautie leuing as efferis.
The wolf betakinnis fals extortioneris,
And oppressouris of pure men, as we se,
Be violence, or craft in facultie.

Off Esope. 109

Thre kynd of wolfis, in this warld now rings.
The first, ar fals peruerteris of the lawis.
Quhilk vnder poleit termis, falset mingis,
Lettand that all wer gospell, that he schawis.
Bot for ane bud the pure man he ouerthrawis,
Smoirand the richt, garrand the wrang proceid.
Of sic wolfis hellis fyre sall be thair meid.

O man of law, let be thy subteltie,
With nice gimpis, and fraudis intricait:
And think that God in his diuinitie,
The wrang, the richt, of all thy werkis wait.
For prayer, price, for hie, nor law estait,
Of fals querrellis se thow mak na defence.
Hald with the richt, hurt not thy conscience.

Ane vther kynd of wolfis rauenous,
Ar mychtie men, haifand aneuch plentie.
Quhilkis ar sa gredie, and sa couetous,
Thay will not thoill in pece ane pureman to be.

Suppois he, and his houshald baith suld de,
For falt of fude, thairof thay gif na rak,
Bot ouer his heid his mailling will thay tak.

O man but mercie, quhat is in thy thocht
War than ane wolf, and thow culd vnderstand,
Thow hes aneuch, the pure husband richt nocht,
Bot croip, and crufe, vpon ane clout of land.
For Goddis aw, how durst thow tak on hand.
And thow in barn, and byre sa bene, and big.
To put him fra his tak, and gar him thig?

The thrid wolf, ar men of heritage:
As lordis, that hes land be Goddis lane.