|
A COOK they hadde with hem for the nones |
| To boille the chiknes with the marybones, |
| And poudre-marchant tart, and galyngale. |
| Wel koude he knowe a draughte of London ale. |
| 385 | He koude rooste, and sethe, and broille, and frye, |
| Maken mortreux, and wel bake a pye. |
| But greet harm was it, as it thoughte me, |
| That on his shyne a mormal hadde he. |
| For blankmanger, that made he with the beste. |
|
|
A COOK they had with them, just for once, |
| To boil the chickens with the marrow-bones, |
| And poudre-marchant tart and galingale. |
| He knew how to recognize a draught of London ale. |
| 385 | And he could roast and boil and broil and fry, |
| And prepare a stew, and bake a tasty pie. |
| But a pity it was, it seemed to me, |
| That on his shin an open sore had he; |
| For sweet blanc-mange, he made it with the best. |
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