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MOTHER HVB EBERDS TALE 497
Free men some beggers call, but they be free, I And his hose broken high aboue the heeling,
And they which call them so more beggers bee And his shooes beaten out with trauehng
For they doo swmke and sweate to feed the But neither sword nor dagger he did beare,
other,
Seemes that no foes reuengement he did feare,
Who hue like Lords of that which they doo I In stead of them a handsome bat he held,
gather,
I On which he leaned, as one farce in elde
And yet doo neuer thanke them for the same, Shame light on him, that through so false
But as their due by Nature doo it clame illusion,
Such will we fashion both our selues to bee, Doth turne the name of Souldiers to abusion,
Lords of the world, and so will wander free And that, which is the noblest mystene, 221
Where so vs listeth, vncontrol'd of anie Brings to reproach and common lnfamie
Hard is our hap, if we (emongst so manie) 170 Long they thus trauailed, yet neuer met
I lght not on some that may our state amend, Aduenture, which might them a working set
Sildome but some good commeth ere the end Yet manie waies they sought, and manie tryed
Well seemd the Ape to like this ordinaunce Yet for their purposes none fit espyed
Yet well considering of the circumstaunce, At last they chaunst to meete vpon the way
As pausing in great doubt awhile he staid, A simple husbandman m garments gray,
And afterwards with graue aduizement said, Yet though his vesture were but meane and bace,
I cannot my lief brother like but well A good yeoman he was of honest place, 230
The purpose of the complot which ye tell And more for thrift did care than for gay
For well I wot (compar'd to all the rest clothing
Of each degree) that Beggers life is best 180 Gay "without good, is good hearts greatest
And they that thmke themselues the best of all loathing
Oft times to begging are content to fall The Foxe him spying, bad the Ape him dight
But this I wot withall that we shall ronne To play his part, for loe he was in sight,
Into great daunger like to bee vndonne, That (if he er'd not) should them entertame,
Thus wildly to wander in the worlds eye, And yeeld them timely profite for their pame
Without pasport or good warrantie, Eftsoones the Ape himselfe gan vp to reare,
I'or feare least we like rogues should be And on his shoulders high his bat to beare,
reputed,
As if good seruice he were fit to doo,
And for eare marked beasts abroad be bruted But little thrift for him he did it too 240
Therefore I read, that we our counsells call, And stoutly forward he his steps did strame,
How to preuent this mischiefe ere it fall, 190 That like a handsome swame it him became
And how we may with most secuntie, When as they nigh approached, that good man
Beg amongst those that beggers doo defie Seeing them wander loosly, first began
Right well deere Gossip ye aduized haue, T'enquire of customc, what and whence they
(Said then the Foxe) but I this doubt will saue were?
For ere we farther passe, I will deuise To whom the Ape, I am a Souldiere,
A pasport for vs both in fittest wize, rhat hte in warres haue spent my deerest
And by the names of Souldiers vs protect, blood,
That now is thought a ciuile begging sect And in long seruice lost both limbs and good,
Be you the Souldier, for you hkest are And now constraint that trade to ouergiue,
lor manly semblance, and small skill in warre I dnuen am to seeke some meanes to hue
I will but wayte on you, and as occasion 201 Which might it you in pitie please t'afford,
Falls out, my stlfe fit for the same will fashion I would be readie both m deed and word, 252
The Pasport ended, both they forward went, To doo you faithfull seruice all my dayes
The Ape clad Souldierhke, fit for th'mtent, This yron world (that same he weeping sayes)
In a blew lacket with a crosse of redd Brings downe the stowtest hearts to lowest state
And manie slits, as if that he had shedd For miserie doth brauest mmdes abate,
Much blood throgh many wounds therein And make them seeke for that they wont to
receaued,
scorne,
Which had the vse of his right arme bereaued, Of fortune and of hope at once forlorne
Vpon his head an old Scotch cap he wore, The honest man, that heard him thus complaine,
"With a plume feather all to peeces tore 210 Was gneu'd, as he had felt part of his pame,
His breeches were made after the new cut, And well disposd' him some reliefe to showe,
Al Portugese, loose like an emptie gut, Askt if in husbandne he ought did knowe,