Quail

The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings read more

The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.

Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and one that loves
quails, but he has not so much brain as read more

Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and one that loves
quails, but he has not so much brain as ear-wax; and the goodly
transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, the
primitive statue and oblique memorial of cockolds; a thrifty
shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg, to what
form but that he is should wit larded with malice and malice
forced with wit turn him to? To an ass, were nothing; he is both
ass and ox: to an ox, were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To
be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a
puttock, or a herring without roe, I would not care; but to be
Memelaus! I would conspire against destiny.

In jalousie I rede eek thou hym bynde
And thou shalt make him couche as doeth a quaille.

In jalousie I rede eek thou hym bynde
And thou shalt make him couche as doeth a quaille.