"The careyne in the bush, with throte y-corve: A thousand slayn, and nat of qualm y-storve; The tiraunt, with the prey by force y-raft; The toun destroyed, ther was no-thing laft. Yet saugh I brent the shippes hoppesteres; The hunte strangled with the wilde beres: The sowe freten the child right in the cradel; The cook y-scalded, for al his longe ladel."