Whilom wast there a squier who aventured to rede a letter fro his neighebor.
"Foryeve me Bob, I brenne with gilt and nede confess. Ful prively have I hente thine wif amorwe and anight whan thou art gonne. Soothfast, mo thanne thou. I am nat getten any atte home, but thilke no savacion. I canst no longer live with the gilt an canstow herknen to myn plainte and I vouch sauf that it ne wil eft happen."
Aswoune, the squier syck with grevous woodnesse went into his bowr, hented his arwe and, naught word, perced his wif.
Anoon another lettre arrived.....
"Damme auto-mend, I mened wifi, not wif."
"Foryeve me Bob, I brenne with gilt and nede confess. Ful prively have I hente thine wif amorwe and anight whan thou art gonne. Soothfast, mo thanne thou. I am nat getten any atte home, but thilke no savacion. I canst no longer live with the gilt an canstow herknen to myn plainte and I vouch sauf that it ne wil eft happen."
Aswoune, the squier syck with grevous woodnesse went into his bowr, hented his arwe and, naught word, perced his wif.
Anoon another lettre arrived.....
"Damme auto-mend, I mened wifi, not wif."
