The Historye of Reynard the Foxe/capitulo .iii.
The complaynt of Courtoys the hounde
capitulo .iii.
Whan thyse wordes were spoken so stode there a lytyl hounde and was named courtoys / and complayned to the kynge / how that in the colde wynter in the harde froste he had ben sore forwynterd / in such wyse as he had kepte nomore mete than a puddyng / wyche puddyng reygnard the foxe had taken away from hym
Tho spak thybert the catte
Wyth this so cam Tybert the catte wyth an Irous moed / and sprang in emonge them and sayde My lord the kyng / I here hier that reygnart is sore complayned on / and hier is none but that he hath ynowh to doo to clere hym self / that courtoys hier complayneth of that is passyd many yeres goon / how be it that I complayne not / that pudyng was myne / ffor I hadde wonne it by nyghte in a mylle / The myllar laye and slepe / yf courtoys had ony parte hieron / that came by me to /
Thenne spak panther / Thynke ye Tybert that it were good that reynard sholde not be complayned on / he is a very murderer / a rouer / and a theef / he loueth noman so wel / not our lord the kyng here that he wel wold that he shuld lese good and worshyp / so that he myght wynne so moche as a legge of a fat henne / I shal telle yow what I sawe hym do yesterday to Cuwaert the hare that hier standeth in the kynges pees and saufgarde / he promysed to Cuwaert and sayde he wold teche hym his credo / and make hym a good chapelayn / he made hym goo sytte bytwene his legges and sange and cryde lowde Credo. Credo. my waye laye ther by there that I herde this songe / Tho wente I ner and fonde maister reynard that had lefte that he fyrst redde and songe / and bygan to playe his olde playe / ffor he had caught kywaert by the throte / and had I not that tyme comen he sholde haue taken his lyf from hym like as ye hiere may see on kywaert the hare the fresse wounde yet / ffor sothe my lord the kyng yf ye suffre this vnpunyshyd and lete hym go quyte that hath thus broken your peas / And wyl do no right after the sentence and jugement of your men / your Chyldren many yeris herafter shal be myspreysed and blamed therfore /
Sykerly panther sayd Isegrym ye saye trouthe / hit were good that right and justyse were don / for them that wolde fayn lyue in peas /