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,
To hedge, to ditch, to thrash, to thetch, to mowe;
Or to what labour els he was prepar’d:  265
For husbands life is labourous and hard.
     [Husbands, husbandman’s.]
Whenas the Ape him hard so much to talke
Of labour, that did from his liking balke,
He would have slipt the coller handsomly,
And to him said:  “Good Sir, full glad am I 270
To take what paines may anie living wight: 
But my late maymed limbs lack wonted might
To doo their kindly services, as needeth: 
     [Kindly, natural.]
Scarce this right hand the mouth with diet feedeth;
So that it may no painfull worke endure, 275
Ne to strong labour can it selfe enure. 
But if that anie other place you have,
Which askes small paines, but thriftines to save,
Or care to overlooke, or trust to gather,
Ye may me trust as your owne ghostly father.” 280
With that the husbandman gan him avize,
That it for him were fittest exercise
Cattell to keep, or grounds to oversee;
And asked him, if he could willing bee
To keep his sheep, or to attend his swyne, 285
Or watch his mares, or take his charge of kyne. 
“Gladly,” said he, “what ever such like paine
Ye put on me, I will the same sustaine: 
But gladliest I of your fleecie sheepe
(Might it you please) would take on me the keep. 290
For ere that unto armes I me betooke,
Unto my fathers sheepe I usde to looke,
That yet the skill thereof I have not loste: 
Thereto right well this curdog, by my coste,
(Meaning the Foxe,) will serve my sheepe to gather,
And drive to follow after their belwether.” 295
The husbandman was meanly well content
     [Meanly, humbly.]
Triall to make of his endevourment;