I make thyse yhestlees breed which, she saith, still shoulde risen, and hit being sommer hit should do so with grete ese. Hit hath been V days ynow, and the stuffe is ginnynge to rotten! Hit stinketh lyk the Deville's ershoole, because the milke therein hath turned, and yet hit hath risen perhaps the height of a fingre-nayl. There is milke, white flour, sugre and othre costly items within, and I would nat haven hit goon to waast!
Then, as I walked nere to the deeth-stynken breed, I was drinkynge of mine ale and notede how hit was boylynge yet, and I memoried: "Hit is said to be yhest that maketh hit bubble!" So I poured mine ale upon the nastre breed, and hoope thatte hit shall rise ynow.
Hit still smelleth lyk elde chese that hath been layd outt in the sunne, though. That bitere elde ladye ought to stynken as baddely.