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Now, goode men, I pray yow, herkneth alle. |
| Lo, how Fortune turneth sodeynly |
| The hope and pryde eek of hir enemy! |
| This cok, that lay upon the foxes bak, |
| 640 | In al his drede unto the fox he spak, |
| And seyde, "Sire, if that I were as ye, |
| Yet wolde I seyn, as wys God helpe me, |
| `Turneth agayn, ye proude cherles alle, |
| A verray pestilence upon yow falle! |
| 645 | Now am I come unto the wodes syde, |
| Maugree youre heed, the cok shal heere abyde, |
| I wol hym ete, in feith, and that anon.'" |
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And now, good men, I pray you listen all. |
| Behold how Fortune turns all suddenly |
| The hope and pride of even her enemy! |
| This cock, which lay across the fox's back, |
| 640 | In all his fear unto the fox did clack |
| And say: "Sir, were I you, as I should be, |
| Then would I say as God may now help me!, |
| 'Turn back again, presumptuous peasants all! |
| A very pestilence upon you fall! |
| 645 | Now that I've gained here to this dark wood's side, |
| In spite of you this cock shall here abide. |
| I'll eat him, by my faith, and that anon!'" |
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