Lkk. Thus was the bowlat in herde herely at yicht, flour of all fowlis, throw fedderis ſo fair, he lukit to his lykame that lemyt fo licht, So propir pleland of prent, provde to repar : be thocht him maid on the mold makles of mycht, As fouerane him awne ſelf, throw bewte he bair, Counterpalace to the Pape, our princis, I plicht ; So hiely he hyit him in Luciferis lait, That all the fowlis of the firth he defowlit fyne. Thus leit he no man his peir ; Gif ony nech wald him neir, be bad tham rebaldis orere, With a ruyne. LXXJ. The pape, and the patriarkis, and princis of prow, J ai cummyn of thar kyn, be colingage knawin; So fair is my fetherem J haf no falowe ; ay (chrowde and my ſcheneweid (chir to be (chawin. all birdis he rebalkit, that wald him nocht bowe; Jn breth as a batall wricht full of boft blawin, With onloveable latis nocht till allow : Thus wycit he the walentyne thraly and thrawin, That all the fowlis with allent allemblit agane And plenzeit to Natur DE this intollerable injur ; how the howlat him bure So hie, and ſo haltane.
