And doo not doubt but duly to encline My wits theretoo, as ye shall shortly heare.” The priest him wisht good speed and well to fare: 550 So parted they, as eithers way them led. But th’Ape and Foxe ere long so well them sped, Through the priests holesome counsell lately tought, And throgh their owne faire handling wisely wroght, That they a benefice twixt them obtained, 555 And craftie Reynold was a priest ordained, And th’Ape his parish clarke procur’d to bee: Then made they revell route and goodly glee. But, ere long time had passed, they so ill Did order their affaires, that th’evill will 560 Of all their parishners they had constraind; Who to the ordinarie of them complain’d, How fowlie they their offices abusd, And them of crimes and heresies accusd; That pursivants he often for them sent. 565 But they neglected his commaundëment; So long persisted obstinate and bolde, Till at the length he published to holde A visitation, and them cyted thether. Then was high time their wits about to geather; 570 What did they then, but made a composition With their next neighbor priest for light condition, To whom their living they resigned quight For a few pence, and ran away by night. So passing through the countrey in disguize, 575 They fled farre off, where none might them surprize, And after that long straied here and there, Through everie field and forrest farre and nere; Yet never found occasion for their tourne, But, almost sterv’d, did much lament and mourne. 580 At last they chaunst to meete upon the way The Mule, all deckt in goodly rich aray, With bells and bosses that full lowdly rung, And costly trappings that to ground downe hung. Lowly they him saluted in meeke wise; 585 But he through pride and fatnes gan despise Their meanesse; scarce vouchsafte them to requite. Whereat the Foxe deep groning in his sprite, Said: “Ah! Sir Mule, now blessed be the day That I see you so goodly and so gay 590 In your attyres, and eke your silken hyde Fil’d with round flesh, that everie bone doth hide. Seemes that in fruitfull pastures ye doo live, Or fortune doth you secret favour give.” “Foolish Foxe!” said the Mule, “thy wretched need Praiseth the thing that doth thy sorrow breed. 596 For well I weene thou canst not but envie My wealth, compar’d to thine owne miserie, That art so leane and meagre waxen late That scarse thy legs uphold thy feeble gate.” 600 “Ay me!” said then the Foxe, “whom evill hap Unworthy in such wretchednes doth wrap, And makes the scorne of other beasts to bee. But read, faire Sir, of grace, from whence come yee; Or what of tidings you abroad doo heare; 605 Newes may perhaps some good unweeting beare.” “From royall court I lately came,” said he, “Where all the braverie that eye may see,