"Now surely, brother," said the Foxe anon,
"Te have this matter motioned in season: 125
For everie thing that is begun with reason
Will come by readie meanes unto his end;
But things miscounselled must needs miswend.
[_Miswend_, go wrong.]
Thus therefore I advize upon the case:
That not to anie certaine trade or place, 130
Nor anie man, we should our selves applie.
For why should he that is at libertie
Make himselfe bond? Sith then we are free borne.
Let us all servile base subiection scorne;
And as we bee sonnes of the world so wide, 135
Let us our fathers heritage divide,
And chalenge to our selves our portions dew
Of all the patrimonie, which a few
Now hold in hugger mugger in their hand,
[_In hugger mugger_, in secret]
And all the rest doo rob of good and land: 140
For now a few have all, and all have nought,
Yet all be brethren ylike dearly bought.
There is no right in this partition,
Ne was it so by institution
Ordained first, ne by the law of Nature, 145
But that she gave like blessing to each creture
As well of worldly livelode as of life,
That there might be no difference nor strife,
Nor ought cald mine or thine: thrice happie then
Was the condition of mortall men. 150
That was the golden age of Saturne old,
But this might better be the world of gold;
For without golde now nothing wilbe got.
Therefore, if please you, this shalbe our plot:
We will not be of anie occupation; 155
Let such vile vassalls, borne to base vocation,
Drudge in the world and for their living droyle,
[_Droyle_, moil]
Which have no wit to live withouten toyle.
But we will walke about the world at pleasure,
Like two free men, and make our ease our treasure.
Free men some beggers call; but they be free; 161
And they which call them so more beggers bee:
For they doo swinke and sweate to feed the other,
[_Swinke_, toil.]
Who live like lords of that which they doo gather,
And yet doo never thanke them for the same, 165
But as their due by nature doo it clame.
Such will we fashion both our selves to bee,
Lords of the world; and so will wander free
Where so us listeth, uncontrol'd of anie.
Hard is our hap, if we, emongst so manie, 170
Light