As two athex were bathing under a south wall: "How shandful," said one of them, "is our fettle! We are, it is true, but that is all, for we hold no kind of hoad in the making, and are fully unyemed by the world. Damned darkness! Why was I not born a stag, to reach at broad, the pride and wulder of some kingly weald?" It happened, that in the midst of these unfair mutters, a pack of hounds was heard in full shriek after the swith deer he was lusting, which being quite forspent with the hunt, was torn to bits by the dogs, in sight of the two athex. "And is this the lordly stag, whose stow in the making you wish to hold?" said the wiser athex to his chiding friend. "Let his orlay teach you to bless Forseeing for stowing you in that lowly staddle which wards you from the plights of a higher hoad."

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