Or elles he is at his hous, certeyn; 3669 Wher that he be, I can nat sothly seyn.' This Absolon ful joly was and light, And thoghte, 'now is tyme wake al night; For sikirly I saugh him nat stiringe 3673 Aboute his dore sin day bigan to springe. So moot I thryve, I shal, at cokkes crowe, Ful prively knokken at his windowe (490) That stant ful lowe up-on his boures wal. To Alison now wol I tellen al

My love-longing, for yet I shal nat

misse

That at the leste wey I shal hir kisse. 3680 Som maner confort shal I have, parfay, My mouth hath icched al this longe day;

That is a signe of kissing atte leste. Al night me mette eek, I was at a feste. Therfor I wol gon slepe an houre or tweye, 3685

And al the night than wol I wake and pleye.' (500) Whan that the firste cok hath crowe,

anon

Up rist this joly lover Absolon, And him arrayeth gay, at point-devys. But first he cheweth greyn and lycorys, To smellen swete, er he had kembd his heer. 3691

Under his tonge a trewe love he beer, For ther-by wende he to ben gracious. He rometh to the carpenteres hous, And stille he stant under the shotwindowe; (509) 3695 Un-to his brest it raughte, it was so lowe; And softe he cogheth with a semi-soun'What do ye, hony-comb, swete Alisoun ? My faire brid, my swete cinamome, Awaketh, lemman myn, and speketh to me!

3700

That lyk a turtel trewe is my moorninge;

As help me god, it wol nat be "com ba me,"

3709 I love another, and elles I were to blame, Wel bet than thee, by Jesu, Absolon! Go forth thy wey, or I wol caste a ston, And lat me slepe, a twenty devel wey!'

'Allas,' quod Absolon, and weylawey! That trewe love was ever so yvel biset! Than kisse me, sin it may be no bet, (530) For Jesus love and for the love of me.' 'Wiltow than go thy wey ther-with?' quod she.

'Ye, certes, lemman,' quod this Absolon.

'Thanne make thee redy,' quod she,

+And un-to Nicholas she seyde stille, Now hust, and thou shalt laughen al thy fille.'

This Absolon doun sette him on his knees,

And seyde, 'I am a lord at alle degrees; For after this I hope ther cometh more ! Lemman, thy grace, and swete brid, thyn ore!' (540) 3726 The window she undoth, and that in haste,

'Have do,' quod she, 'com of, and speed thee faste,

Lest that our neighebores thee espye.'

This Absolon gan wype his mouth ful

Ful savourly, er he was war of this. 3735 Abak he sterte, and thoghte it was amis, (550) For wel he wiste a womman hath no berd;

He felte a thing al rough and long y-herd, And seyde, 'fy! allas! what have I do?' 'Tehee!' quod she, and clapte the window to; 3740

And Absolon goth forth a sory pas.

'Go fro the window, Jakke fool,' she

sayde,

weel!'

This sely Absolon herde every deel, 3744

And on his lippe he gan for anger byte; And to him-self he seyde, 'I shal thee quyte!' (560) Who rubbeth now, who froteth now his lippes

With dust, with sond, with straw, with clooth, with chippes,

But Absolon, that seith ful ofte, 'allas! My soule bitake I un-to Sathanas,

3750 But me wer lever than al this toun,' quod he,

'Of this despyt awroken for to be! Allas!' quod he, 'allas! I ne hadde ybleynt !'

His hote love was cold and al y-queynt; For fro that tyme that he had kisto hir ers, 3755

Of paramours he sette nat a kers, (570)
For he was heled of his maladye;
Ful ofte paramours he gan deffye,
And weep as dooth a child that is y-bete.
A softe paas he wente over the strete 3760
Un-til a smith men cleped daun Gerveys,
That in his forge smithed plough-harneys;
He sharpeth shaar and culter bisily.
This Absolon knokketh al esily,
And seyde, 'undo, Gerveys, and that
anon.'
3765

'What, who artow?' 'It am I, Absolon.' (580) 'What, Absolon! for Cristes swete tree, Why ryse ye so rathe, ey, ben'cite! What eyleth yow? som gay gerl, god it woot,

3669

Hath broght yow thus up-on the viritoot;
By seynt Note, ye woot wel what I mene.'
This Absolon ne roghte nat a bene
Of al his pley, no word agayn he yaf;
He hadde more tow on his distaf
Than Gerveys knew, and seyde, 'freend
so dere,
(589) 3775
That hote culter in the chimenee here,
As lene it me, I have ther-with to done,
And I wol bringe it thee agayn ful sone.'
Gerveys answerde, 'certes, were it gold,
Or in a poke nobles alle untold, 3780
Thou sholdest have, as I am trewe smith;
Ey, Cristes foo! what wol ye do ther-
with?'

"Ther-of,' quod Absolon, 'be as be may; I shal wel telle it thee to-morwe day—

Ful softe out at the dore he gan to stele, And wente un-to the carpenteres wal. (601) He cogheth first, and knokketh therwith-al

Upon the windowe, right as he dide er.

This Alison answerde, 'Who is ther 3790 That knokketh so? I warante it a theef.' 'Why, nay,' quod he, 'god woot, my swete leef,

I am thyn Absolon, my dereling! Of gold,' quod he, 'I have thee broght a ring;

My moder yaf it me, so god me save, 3795 Ful fyn it is, and ther-to wel y-grave; (610) This wol I yeve thee, if thou me kisse!' This Nicholas was risen for to pisse, And thoghte he wolde amenden al the jape,

3799

He sholde kisse his ers er that he scape.
And up the windowe dide he hastily,
And out his ers he putteth prively
Over the buttok, to the haunche-bon;
And ther-with spak this clerk, this
Absolon,

'Spek, swete brid, I noot nat wher thou art.'

3805

This Nicholas anon leet flee a fart, (620) As greet as it had been a thonder-dent, That with the strook he was almost

y-blent;

And he was redy with his iren hoot, And Nicholas amidde the ers he smoot. Of gooth the skin an hande-brede aboute, 3811

The hote culter brende so his toute, And for the smert he wende for to dye. As he were wood, for wo he gan to crye'Help! water! water! help, for goddes herte !' 3815 This carpenter out of his slomber sterte, And herde oon cryen 'water' as he were wood, (631) And thoghte, 'Allas! now comth Nowélis flood!'

He sit him up with-outen wordes mo, 3819 And with his ax he smoot the corde a-two, And doun goth al; he fond neither to selle,

Ne breed ne ale, til he cam to the selle

Up-on the floor; and ther aswowne he lay. Up sterte hir Alison, and Nicholay, And cryden 'out' and 'harrow' in the strete. (639) 3825 The neighebores, bothe smale and grete, In ronnen, for to gauren on this man, That yet aswowne he lay, bothe pale and wan;

For with the fal he brosten hadde his arm;

But stonde he moste un-to his owne harm. 3830 For whan he spak, he was anon bore doun

With hende Nicholas and Alisoun.

They tolden every man that he was wood,

He was agast so of 'Nowélis flood' Thurgh fantasye, that of his vanitee 3835 He hadde y-boght him kneding-tubbes three,

(650)

And hadde hem hanged in the roof above;
And that he preyed hem, for goddes love,
To sitten in the roof, par companye. 3839
The folk gan laughen at his fantasye;
In-to the roof they kyken and they gape,
And turned al his harm un-to a jape.
For what so that this carpenter answerde,
It was for noght, no man his reson herde;
With othes grete he was so sworn adoun,
That he was holden wood in al the toun;
For every clerk anon-right heeld with
other.
(661) 3847
They seyde, 'the man is wood, my leve
brother;'

And every wight gan laughen of this stryf.

Thus swyved was the carpenteres wyf, For al his keping and his jalousye; 3851 And Absolon hath kist hir nether yö; And Nicholas is scalded in the toute. This tale is doon, and god save al the route! (668) 3854

3856

WHAN folk had laughen at this nyce cas
Of Absolon and hende Nicholas,
Diverse folk diversely they seyde;
But, for the more part, they loughe and
pleyde,

Ne at this tale I saugh no man him greve,
But it were only Osewold the Reve, 3860
By-cause he was of carpenteres craft.
A litel ire is in his herte y-laft,
He gan to grucche and blamed it a lyte.
'So thee'k,' quod he, 'ful wel coude
I yow quyte
(10)
With blering of a proud milleres yë, 3865
If that me liste speke of ribaudye.
But ik am old, me list not pley for age;
Gras-tyme is doon, my fodder is now
forage,

This whyte top wryteth myne olde yeres,
Myn herte is al-so mowled as myne heres,
But-if I fare as dooth an open-ers; 3871
That ilke fruit is ever leng the wers,
Til it be roten in mullok or in stree.
We olde men, I drede, so fare we; (20)
Til we be roten, can we nat be rype; 3875
We hoppen ay, whyl that the world wol

руре.

For in oure wil ther stiketh ever a nayl, To have an hoor heed and a grene tayl, As hath a leek; for thogh our might be goon,

Our wil desireth folie ever in oon. 3880 For whan we may nat doon, than wol we

speke;

Yet in our asshen olde is fyr y-reke.

Foure gledes han we, whiche I shal devyse,

Avaunting, lying, anger, coveityse; (30)
Thise foure sparkles longen un-to elde.
Our olde lemes mowe wel been unwelde,
But wil ne shal nat faillen, that is sooth.
And yet ik have alwey a coltes tooth, 3888
As many a yeer as it is passed henne
Sin that my tappe of lyf bigan to renne.
For sikerly, whan I was bore, anon 3891
Deeth drogh the tappe of lyf and leet it
gon;

And ever sith hath so the tappe y-ronne, Til that almost al empty is the tonne. (40) The streem of lyf now droppeth on the chimbe ; 3895

The sely tonge may wel ringe and chimbe Of wrecchednesse that passed is ful yore; With olde folk, save dotage, is namore.'

Whan that our host hadde herd this sermoning,

He gan to speke as lordly as a king; 3900

He seide, what amounteth al this wit?
What shul we speke alday of holy writ?
The devel made a reve for to preche,
And of a souter a shipman or a leche. (50)
Sey forth thy tale, and tarie nat the tyme,
Lo, Depeford! and it is half-way pryme.
Lo, Grenewich, ther many a shrewe is
inne;
3907

It were al tyme thy tale to biginne.'
'Now, sires,' quod this Osewold the Reve,
'I pray yow alle that ye nat yow greve,
Thogh I answere and somdel sette his
howve;

(60) 3915

3911 For leveful is with force force of-showve. This dronke millere hath y-told us heer, How that bigyled was a carpenteer, Peraventure in scorn, for I am oon. And, by your leve, I shal him quyte anoon; Right in his cherles termes wol I speke. I pray to god his nekke mote breke; He can wel in myn yö seen a stalke, 3919 But in his owne he can nat seen a balke.

Ar Trumpington, nat fer fro Cantebrigge, Ther goth a brook and over that a brigge, Up-on the whiche brook ther stant a melle; And this is verray soth that I yow telle. A Miller was ther dwelling many a day; As eny pecok he was proud and gay. 3926 Pypen he coude and fisshe, and nettes bete,

And turne coppes, and wel wrastle and shete;

And by his belt he baar a long panade, And of a swerd ful trenchant was the blade. 3930 A joly popper baar he in his pouche; (11) Ther was no man for peril dorste him touche.

A Sheffeld thwitel baar he in his hose; Round was his face, and camuse was his

nose.

As piled as an ape was his skulle. 3935
He was a market-beter atte fulle.
Ther dorste no wight hand up-on him

legge,

That he ne swoor he sholde anon abegge. A theef he was for sothe of corn and mele, And that a sly, and usaunt for to stele. His name was hoten deynous Simkin. (21) A wyf he hadde, y-comen of noble kin; The person of the toun hir fader was. With hir he yaf ful many a panne of bras, For that Simkin sholde in his blood allye. She was y-fostred in a nonnerye ; 3946

For Simkin wolde no wyf, as he sayde, But she were wel y-norissed and a mayde, To saven his estaat of yomanrye. 3949 And she was proud, and pert as is a pye. A ful fair sighte was it on hem two; (31) On haly-dayes biforn hir wolde he go With his tipet bounden about his heed, And she cam after in a gyte of reed; And Simkin hadde hosen of the same. Ther dorste no wight clepen hir but 'dame.' 3956 Was noon so hardy that wente by the weye

3959

That with hir dorste rage or ones pleye,
But-if he wolde be slayn of Simkin
With panade, or with knyf, or boydekin.
For jalous folk ben perilous evermo, (41)
Algate they wolde hir wyves wenden so.
And eek, for she was somdel smoterlich,
She was as digne as water in a dich ;
And ful of hoker and of bisemare. 3965
Hir thoughte that a lady sholde hir
spare,

What for hir kinrede and hir nortelrye
That she had lerned in the nonnerye.

A doghter hadde they bitwixe hem two Of twenty yeer, with-outen any mo, 3970 Savinge a child that was of half-yeer age; In cradel it lay and was a propre page. This wenche thikke and wel y-growen was, (53) With camuse nose and yën greye as glas; With buttokes brode and brestes rounde and hye, 3975 But right fair was hir heer, I wol nat lye. The person of the toun, for she was feir, In purpos was to maken hir his heir Bothe of his catel and his messuage, 3979 And straunge he made it of hir mariage. His purpos was for to bistowe hir hye (61) In-to som worthy blood of auncetrye; For holy chirches good moot been despended

On holy chirches blood, that is descended. Therfore he wolde his holy blood honoure, Though that he holy chirche sholde de

An hundred tyme more than biforn;
For ther-biforn he stal but curteisly,
But now he was a theef outrageously,
For which the wardeyn chidde and made
fare.
(79)
But ther-of sette the miller natatare; 4000
He craketh boost, and swoor it was nat so.
Than were ther yonge povre clerkes two,
That dwelten in this halle, of which I seye.
Testif they were, and lusty for to pleye,
And, only for hir mirthe and revelrye,
Up-on the wardeyn bisily they crye, 4006
To
yeve hem leve but a litel stounde
To goon to mille and seen hir corn y-
grounde;

And hardily, they dorste leye hir nekke, The miller shold nat stele hem half a (90) 4010

pekke

Of corn by sleighte, ne by force hem reve; And at the laste the wardeyn yaf hem leve. John hight that oon, and Aleyn hight that other;

Of o toun were they born, that highte Strother, 4014 Fer in the north, I can nat telle where. This Aleyn maketh redy al his gere, And on an hors the sak he caste anon. Forth goth Aleyn the clerk, and also John, With good swerd and with bokeler by hir syde. (99) 4019

John knew the wey, hem nedede no gyde, And at the mille the sak adoun he layth. Aleyn spak first, 'al hayl, Symond, y-fayth; How fares thy faire doghter and thy wyf?' 'Aleyn! welcome,' quod Simkin, 'by my lyf,

And John also, how now, what do ye heer?' 'Symond,' quod John, 'by god, nede has na peer; 4026 Him boës serve him-selve that has na swayn,

Or elles he is a fool, as clerkes sayn.
Our manciple, I hope he wil be deed, 4029
Swa werkes ay the wanges in his heed.