So spake this bold Brere with great disdain:
Little him answered the Oak again,
But yielded, with shame and grief adawed,
That of a weed he was overcrawed.
"It chanced after upon a day,
The husbandman self to come that way,
Of custom for to surview his ground,
And his trees of state in compass round:
Him when the spiteful Brere had espied,
Causeless complained, and loudly cried