This Chanticleer his wings began to beat, As man that could not his treasón espy, So was he ravish’d with his flattery. Alas! ye lordës, many a false flattour 4402 Is in your court, and many a losengeour, 4403 That pleasë you well morë, by my faith, Than he that soothfastness 4404 unto you saith. Read in Ecclesiast of flattery; Beware, ye lordës, of their treachery. This Chanticleer stood high upon his toes, Stretching his neck, and held his eyen close, And gan to crowë loudë for the nonce: 4405 And Dan Russel 4406 the fox start up at once, And by the gorgat hentë 4407 Chanticleer, And on his back toward the wood him bare.