Which had the use of his right arme bereaved, Upon his head an old Scotch cap he wore, With a plume feather all to peeces tore; 210 His breeches were made after the new cut, _Al Portugese_, loose like an emptie gut, And his hose broken high above the heeling, And his shooes beaten out with traveling. But neither sword nor dagger he did beare; 215 Seemes that no foes revengement he did feare; In stead of them a handsome bat he held, [_Bat_, stick.] On which he leaned, as one farre in elde. [_Elde_, age.] Shame light on him, that through so false illusion Doth turne the name of souldiers to abusion, 220 And that which is the noblest mysterie [_Mysterie_, profession.] Brings to reproach and common infamie! Long they thus travailed, yet never met Adventure which might them a working set: Yet manie waies they sought, and manie tryed; 225 Yet for their purposes none fit espyed. At last they chaunst to meete upon the way A simple husbandman in garments gray; Yet, though his vesture were but meane and bace, [_Bace_, humble.] A good yeoman he was of honest place, 230 And more for thrift did care than for gay clothing: Gay without good is good hearts greatest loathing. The Foxe, him spying, bad the Ape him dight [_Dight_, prepare.] To play his part, for loe! he was in sight That, if he er’d not, should them entertaine, 235 And yeeld them timely profite for their paine. Eftsoones the Ape himselfe gan up to reare, [_Eftsoones_, straightway.] And on his shoulders high his bat to beare, As if good service he were fit to doo, But little thrift for him he did it too: 240 And stoutly forward he his steps did straine, That like a handsome swaine it him became. When as they nigh approached, that good man, Seeing them wander loosly, first began T’enquire, of custome, what and whence they were. To whom the Ape: “I am a souldiere, 246 That late in warres have spent my deerest blood, And in long service lost both limbs and good; And now, constraint that trade to overgive, I driven am to seeke some meanes to live: 250 Which might it you in pitie please t’afford, I would be readie, both in deed and word, To doo you faithfull service all my dayes. This yron world” (that same he weeping sayes) “Brings downe the stowtest hearts to lowest state: 255 For miserie doth bravest mindes abate, And make them seeke for that they wont to scorne, Of fortune and of hope at once forlorne.” [_Forlorne_, deserted.] The honest roan that heard him thus complaine Was griev’d as he had felt part of his paine; 260 And, well dispos’d him some reliefe to showe, Askt if in husbandrie he ought did knowe,— To plough, to plant, to reap, to rake, to sowe,