Falsehood grows fat and mars all with his might.
He stands still in a spot and shows a stern soul,
Who makes beggars wander with long staves and bags;
Thus we are hunted from hall and from hole,
And those who wore robes are now wearing rags.
And then come the beadles[59] with many a boast:
"Supply me with silver for the green wax,[60]
Thou art set down in my writ as thou thyself know'st,"
Yet more than ten times have I paid my tax.
Then I must furnish hens for the roast,