The Canterbury Tales: The Reeve's Tale
This millere smyled of hir nycetee,
And thoghte, 'Al this nys doon but for a wyle.
They wene that no man may hem bigyle.'
(192 – 194)
And to the hors he goth hym faire and wel;
He strepeth of the brydel right anon.
And whan the horse was laus, he gynneth gon
Toward the fen, ther wilde mares renne.
(208 – 211)
And whan the millere saugh that they were gon,
He half a busshel of hir flour hath take,
And bad his wyf go knede it in a cake.
(238 – 240)