The Cowdenbury Tales by Geoffrey Chancer
The Carter’s Tale
Whilom ther was dwellynge at Crawley
A battered Audi, that gestes heeld to borde,
And of his craft he was an ITE,
To Cowden he walked in the feelde.
He roameth to the public house
His thirste therein he hoped to douse.
A buxom wench who serveth ale
Passeth bye on visit to the pail.
The Carter leant back on chaire that rocketh
To resteth his head, between her knockers.
