"This joly prentis with his maister bood, Til he were ny out of his prentishood, Al were he snibbed bothe erly and late, And somtyme lad with revel to Newgate; But atte laste his maister him bithoghte, Up-on a day, whan he his paper soghte, Of a proverbe that seith this same word, ‘Wel bet is roten appel out of hord Than that it rotie al the remenaunt.’"