Canterbury Tales and Other Poems, Geoffrey Chaucer [good fiction books to read txt] 📗

>This miller went again, no word he said, But did his note*, and with these clerkes play’d, *business <12>

Till that their corn was fair and well y-ground.

And when the meal was sacked and y-bound, Then John went out, and found his horse away, And gan to cry, “Harow, and wellaway!

Our horse is lost: Alein, for Godde’s bones, Step on thy feet; come off, man, all at once: Alas! our warden has his palfrey lorn.*” lost This Alein all forgot, both meal and corn; All was out of his mind his husbandry. careful watch over “What, which way is he gone?” he gan to cry. the corn

The wife came leaping inward at a renne, run She said; “Alas! your horse went to the fen With wilde mares, as fast as he could go.

Unthank* come on his hand that bound him so *ill luck, a curse And his that better should have knit the rein.”

“Alas!” quoth John, “Alein, for Christes pain Lay down thy sword, and I shall mine also.

I is full wight*, God wate**, as is a roe. swift *knows By Godde’s soul he shall not scape us bathe*. *both <13>

Why n’ had thou put the capel* in the lathe**? horse<14> *barn Ill hail, Alein, by God thou is a fonne.*” *fool These silly clerkes have full fast y-run Toward the fen, both Alein and eke John; And when the miller saw that they were gone, He half a bushel of their flour did take, And bade his wife go knead it in a cake.

He said; I trow, the clerkes were afeard, Yet can a miller *make a clerkes beard, cheat a scholar* <15>

For all his art: yea, let them go their way!

Lo where they go! yea, let the children play: They get him not so lightly, by my crown.”

These silly clerkes runnen up and down With “Keep, keep; stand, stand; jossa*, warderere. turn Go whistle thou, and I shall keep him here.” *catch But shortly, till that it was very night They coulde not, though they did all their might, Their capel catch, he ran alway so fast: Till in a ditch they caught him at the last.

 

Weary and wet, as beastes in the rain, Comes silly John, and with him comes Alein.

“Alas,” quoth John, “the day that I was born!

Now are we driv’n till hething* and till scorn. mockery Our corn is stol’n, men will us fonnes call, fools Both the warden, and eke our fellows all, And namely the miller, wellaway!” especially Thus plained John, as he went by the way Toward the mill, and Bayard in his hand. the bay horse The miller sitting by the fire he fand. found For it was night, and forther might they not, go their way But for the love of God they him besought Of herberow and ease, for their penny. *lodging The miller said again,” If there be any, Such as it is, yet shall ye have your part.

Mine house is strait, but ye have learned art; Ye can by arguments maken a place

A mile broad, of twenty foot of space.

Let see now if this place may suffice, Or make it room with speech, as is your guise.*” *fashion “Now, Simon,” said this John, “by Saint Cuthberd Aye is thou merry, and that is fair answer’d.

I have heard say, man shall take of two things, Such as he findes, or such as he brings.

But specially I pray thee, hoste dear, Gar <16> us have meat and drink, and make us cheer, And we shall pay thee truly at the full: With empty hand men may not hawkes tull*. *allure Lo here our silver ready for to spend.”

 

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 sheetes and with chalons* fair y-spread, *blankets<17>

Not from his owen bed ten foot or twelve: His daughter had a bed all by herselve, Right in the same chamber *by and by*: side by side

It might no better be, and cause why,

There was no roomer herberow in the place. roomier lodging

They suppen, and they speaken of solace, And drinken ever strong ale at the best.

Aboute midnight went they all to rest.

Well had this miller varnished his head; Full pale he was, fordrunken, and nought red. without his wits

He yoxed*, and he spake thorough the nose, hiccuped As he were in the quakke, or in the pose**. grunting *catarrh To bed he went, and with him went his wife, As any jay she light was and jolife, jolly So was her jolly whistle well y-wet.

The cradle at her beddes feet was set, To rock, and eke to give the child to suck.

And when that drunken was all in the crock pitcher<18>

To bedde went the daughter right anon, To bedde went Alein, and also John.

There was no more; needed them no dwale.<19>

This miller had, so wisly* bibbed ale, certainly That as a horse he snorted in his sleep, Nor of his tail behind he took no keep. heed His wife bare him a burdoun, a full strong; *bass <20>

Men might their routing* hearen a furlong. *snoring The wenche routed eke for company.

Alein the clerk, that heard this melody, He poked John, and saide: “Sleepest thou?

Heardest thou ever such a song ere now?

Lo what a compline<21> is y-mell* them all. *among A wilde fire upon their bodies fall,

Who hearken’d ever such a ferly* thing? *strange <22>

Yea, they shall have the flow’r of ill ending!

This longe night there *tides me* no rest. comes to me

But yet no force*, all shall be for the best. matter For, John,” said he, “as ever may I thrive, If that I may, yon wenche will I swive. enjoy carnally Some easement has law y-shapen** us satisfaction *provided For, John, there is a law that sayeth thus, That if a man in one point be aggriev’d, That in another he shall be relievd.

Our corn is stol’n, soothly it is no nay, And we have had an evil fit to-day.

And since I shall have none amendement Against my loss, I will have easement: By Godde’s soul, it shall none, other be.”

This John answer’d; Alein, avise thee: have a care

The miller is a perilous man,” he said, “And if that he out of his sleep abraid, awaked He mighte do us both a villainy*.” *mischief Alein answer’d; “I count him not a fly.

And up he rose, and by the wench he crept.

This wenche lay upright, and fast she slept, Till he so nigh was, ere she might espy, That it had been too late for to cry:

And, shortly for to say, they were at one.

Now play, Alein, for I will speak of John.

 

This John lay still a furlong way <23> or two, And to himself he made ruth* and woe. wail “Alas!” quoth he, “this is a wicked jape; *trick Now may I say, that I is but an ape.

Yet has my fellow somewhat for his harm; He has the miller’s daughter in his arm: He auntred* him, and hath his needes sped, *adventured And I lie as a draff-sack in my bed;

And when this jape is told another day, I shall be held a daffe* or a cockenay <24> coward I will arise, and auntre it, by my fay: *attempt Unhardy is unsely, <25> as men say.”

And up he rose, and softely he went

Unto the cradle, and in his hand it hent, took And bare it soft unto his beddes feet.

Soon after this the wife *her routing lete, stopped snoring*

And gan awake, and went her out to piss And came again and gan the cradle miss And groped here and there, but she found none.

“Alas!” quoth she, “I had almost misgone I had almost gone to the clerkes’ bed.

Ey! Benedicite, then had I foul y-sped.”

And forth she went, till she the cradle fand.

She groped alway farther with her hand And found the bed, and *thoughte not but good had no suspicion*

Because that the cradle by it stood,

And wist not where she was, for it was derk; But fair and well she crept in by the clerk, And lay full still, and would have caught a sleep.

Within a while this John the Clerk up leap And on this goode wife laid on full sore; So merry a fit had she not had full yore. for a long time

He pricked hard and deep, as he were mad.

 

This jolly life have these two clerkes had, Till that the thirde cock began to sing.

Alein wax’d weary in the morrowing,

For he had swonken* all the longe night, *laboured And saide; “Farewell, Malkin, my sweet wight.

The day is come, I may no longer bide, But evermore, where so I go or ride,

I is thine owen clerk, so have I hele.*” health “Now, deare leman,” quoth she, “go, fare wele: *sweetheart But ere thou go, one thing I will thee tell.

When that thou wendest homeward by the mill, Right at the entry of the door behind

Thou shalt a cake of half a bushel find, That was y-maked of thine owen meal,

Which that I help’d my father for to steal.

And goode leman, God thee save and keep.”

And with that word she gan almost to weep.

Alein uprose and thought, “Ere the day daw I will go creepen in by my fellaw:”

And found the cradle with his hand anon.

“By God!” thought he, “all wrong I have misgone: My head is *totty of my swink* tonight, giddy from my labour

That maketh me that I go not aright.

I wot well by the cradle I have misgo’; Here lie the miller and his wife also.”

And forth he went a twenty devil way

Unto the bed, there as the miller lay.

He ween’d* t’ have creeped by his fellow John, *thought And by the miller in he crept anon,

And caught him by the neck, and gan him shake, And said; “Thou John, thou swines-head, awake For Christes soul, and hear a noble game!

For by that lord that called is Saint Jame, As I have thries in this shorte night

Swived the miller’s daughter bolt-upright, While thou hast as a coward lain aghast*.” *afraid “Thou false harlot,” quoth the miller, “hast?

Ah, false traitor, false clerk,” quoth he, “Thou shalt be dead, by Godde’s dignity, Who durste be so bold to disparage disgrace My daughter, that is come of such lineage?”

And by the throate-ball* he caught Alein, Adam’s apple And he him hent dispiteously** again, seized *angrily And on the nose he smote him with his fist; Down ran the bloody stream upon his breast: And in the floor with nose and mouth all broke They wallow, as do two pigs in a poke.

And up they go, and down again anon,

Till that the miller spurned* on a stone, *stumbled And down he backward fell upon his wife, That wiste nothing of this nice strife: For she was fall’n asleep a little wight while With John the clerk, that waked had all night: And with the fall out of her sleep she braid*. *woke “Help, holy cross of Bromeholm,” <26> she said; “In manus tuas! <27> Lord, to thee I call.

Awake, Simon, the fiend is on me fall; Mine