This miller to the town his daughter send For ale and bread, and roasted them a goose, And bound their horse, he should no more go loose: And them in his own chamber made a bed. With sheetës and with chalons 1301 fair y-spread, Not from his owen bed ten foot or twelve: His daughter had a bed all by herselve, Right in the samë chamber by and by: 1302 It might no better be, and causë why⁠— There was no roomer herberow 1303 in the place. They suppen, and they speaken of solace, And drinken ever strong ale at the best. Aboutë midnight went they all to rest. Well had this miller varnished his head; Full pale he was, fordrunken, and nought red. 1304 He yoxed, 1305 and he spake thorough the nose,