human
Though we killen the cat, Yet sholde ther come another To cacchen us and al oure kynde, Though we cropen under benches. 370 For-thi I counseille al the commune To late the cat worthe; And be we nevere bolde The belle hym to shewe; For I herde my sire seyn, Is seven yeer y-passed, Ther the cat is a kitone The court is ful elenge; That witnesseth holy writ, Who so wole it rede: 380 _Væ terræ ubi puer rex est! etc._ For may no renk ther reste have For ratons by nyghte; The while he caccheth conynges, He coveiteth noght youre caroyne, But fedeth hym al with venyson: Defame we hym nevere. For better is a litel los Than a long sorwe, The maze among us alle, 390 Theigh we mysse a sherewe; For many mennes malt We mees wolde destruye, And also ye route of ratons {13} Rende mennes clothes, Nere the cat of that court That can yow over-lepe; For hadde ye rattes youre wille, Ye kouthe noght rule yow selve.
gpt
I seye for me, quod the mous, 400
human
I se so muchel after, Shal nevere the cat ne the kiton By my counseil be greved, Thorugh carpynge of this coler That costed me nevere And though it hadde costned me catel, Bi-knowen it I nolde, But suffren, as hymself wolde, To doon as hym liketh, Coupled and uncoupled 410 To cacche what thei mowe. For-thi ech a wis wight I warne, Wite wel his owene.