But many men byn nowe so lekerous
That they can not leve by store of howse,
As brawne, bakyn, or powderd beef;
Such lyvelod now ys no man leef,
But venyson, wyldfowle or heronsewes,
So newfanggell be these men of her thewes;
Moche medlyd wyne all day men drynke;
j haue wyste wyldfowle sum tyme stynke.
Piers of Fullham, ll. 171-8, p. 8, v. 2, of Early Popular Poetry, ed. Hazlitt, 1866.
[l. 695], Bustard. “Cap. xv. The Bistarda is a birde as great as an egle, of the maner of an egle, and of suche colour, saue in the winges & in the tayle it hath some white feders; he hath a crooked byll, & longe talants. and it is slowe of flight / & whan he is on the grownde, than must he ryse .iij. or iiij. tymes or he can come to any fulle flight. he taketh his mete on the erth; for .v. or .vi. of them togeder be so bold that they festen on a shepe & tere hym a-sonder / & so ete the flesshe of him / & this birde dothe ete also of dede bestes & stinkyn caryon, and it eteth also grasse & grene erbes / & it layth his eggis vpon the grounde, & bredeth them out the while that the corne groweth on the felde.” —L. Andrewe, Noble Lyfe, L ij back.