My house is small, but ye have learned art;
Ye can, by arguments, well make a place
A mile broad, out of twenty foot of space!
Let's see now if this place, as 'tis, suffice;
Or make more room with speech, as is your guise."
"Now, Simon, by Saint Cuthbert," said this John,
"Thou'rt ever merry, and that's answered soon.
I've heard that man must needs choose o' twa things;
Such as he finds, or else such as he brings.
But specially I pray thee, mine host dear,
Let us have meat and drink, and make us cheer,
And we shall pay you to the full, be sure:
With empty hand men may na' hawks allure.
Lo! here's our siller ready to be spent!"

The Miller to the town his daughter sent
For ale and bread, and roasted them a goose;
And bound their horse; he should no more get loose;
And in his own room made for them a bed,
With blankets, sheets, and coverlet well spread:
Not twelve feet from his own bed did it stand.
His daughter, by herself, as it was planned,
In a small passage closet, slept close by:
It might no better be, for reasons why, -
There was no wider chamber in the place.
They sup, and jest, and show a merry face,
And drink of ale, the strongest and the best.
It was just midnight when they went to rest.

Well hath this Simkin varnished his hot head;