O cursed priestes, that prate for profit’s sake,
And follow floud and tyde where ere it floes:
O marchaunts fine that no aduauntage take
Of euery grayne, how euer market goes:
O fie on wolues that march in masking cloes,
For to deuoure the lambs when shepperd sleepes,
And woe to you that promise neuer keepes.
51.
You sayd I should be reskude if I neede,
And you would curse, with candell, booke, and bell: