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,
And all the happinesse that heart desire,
Is to be found; he nothing can admire, 610
That hath not seene that heavens portracture.
But tidings there is none, I you assure,
Save that which common is, and knowne to all,
That courtiers as the tide doo rise and fall."
"But tell us," said the Ape, "we doo you pray, 615
Who now in court doth beare the greatest sway:
That, if such fortune doo to us befall,
We may seeke favour of the best of all."
"Marie," said he, "the highest now in grace,
Be the wilde beasts, that swiftest are in chase; 620
For in their speedie course and nimble flight
The Lyon now doth take the most delight:
But chieflie ioyes on foote them to beholde,
Enchaste with chaine and circulet of golde:
[_Enchaste_, adorned.]
So wilde a beaste so tame ytaught to bee, 625
And buxome to his bands, is ioy to see;