Said then the Foxe:  “Who hath the world not tride
From the right way full eath may wander wide.
     [Eath, easy.]
We are but novices, new come abroad, 405
We have not yet the tract of anie troad,
     [I.e. routine of any way of life.]
Nor on us taken anie state of life,
But readie are of anie to make preife.
     [Preife, proof.]
Therefore might please you, which the world have proved,
Us to advise, which forth but lately moved, 410
Of some good course that we might undertake,
Ye shall for ever us your bondmen make.” 
The priest gan wexe halfe proud to be so praide,
And thereby willing to affoord them aide,
“It seemes,” said he, “right well that ye be clerks, 415
Both by your wittie words and by your works. 
Is not that name enough to make a living
To him that hath a whit of Natures giving? 
How manie honest men see ye arize
Daylie thereby, and grow to goodly prize; 420
To deanes, to archdeacons, to commissaries,
To lords, to principalls, to prebendaries? 
All iolly prelates, worthie rule to beare,
Who ever them envie:  yet spite bites neare. 
Why should ye doubt, then, but that ye likewise 425
Might unto some of those in time arise? 
In the meane time to live in good estate,
Loving that love, and hating those that hate;
Being some honest curate, or some vicker,
Content with little in condition sicker.” 430
     [Sicker, sure.]
“Ah! but,” said th’Ape, “the charge is wondrous great,
To feed mens soules, and hath an heavie threat.” 
“To feede mens soules,” quoth he, “is not in man: 
For they must feed themselves, doo what we can. 
We are but charg’d to lay the meate before:  435
Eate they that list, we need to doo no more. 
But God it is that feedes them with his grace,
The bread of life powr’d downe from heavenly place. 
Therefore said he that with the budding rod
Did rule the lewes, All shalbe taught of God. 440
That same hath Iesus Christ now to him raught,
     [Raught, reached, taken.]
By whom the flock is rightly fed and taught: 
He is the shcpheard, and the priest is hee;
We but his shepheard swaines ordain’d to bee. 
Therefore herewith doo not your selfe dismay; 445
Ne is the paines so great, but beare ye may;
For not so great, as it was wont of yore,
It’s now a dayes, ne halfe so streight and sore. 
They whilome used duly everie day
Their service and their holie things to say, 450
At morne and even, beside their anthemes sweete,
Their penie masses, and their complynes meete,
     [Complynes, even-song; the last service of the day.]
Their diriges, their trentals, and their shrifts,