That such mischief graseth them among,
All for they casten too much of world's care,
To deck their dame, and enrich their heir;
For such encheason, if you go nigh,
Few chimneys reeking you shall espy.
The fat ox, that wont lig in the stall,
Is now fast stalled in their crumenall.
Thus chatten the people in their steads,
Alike as a monster of many heads:
But they, that shooten nearest the prick,