And if that he out of his sleep abrayde,
He mighte do us bothe a vilonye !"
Aleyn answerd, "I count it nat a flye!"
And up he roos, and by the wenche he crepte.
This wenche lay upright, and faste slepte,
Til he so neih was or sche might aspye,
That it had ben to late for to crye.
And schortly for to seye, they weren at oon:
Now pley, Alein, for I wol speke of Jon.
This Johan lith stille a forlong whyle or two,
And to himself compleyned of his woo.
"Allas!" quod he, "this is a wikked jape :
Now may I that I am but an ape.
Yet hath my felaw somwhat for his harm;
He hath the myllers doughter in his arm:
He auntred him, and has his needes sped,
And I lye as a draf-sak in my bed;
And when this jape is tald another day,
I sal be hald a daf, a cokenay.
Unhardy is unsely, as men saith.
I wol arise, and auntre it, in good faith."
And up he ros, and softely he wente
Unto the cradil, and in his hand it hente,
And bar it softe unto his beddis feet.
Soone after this the wyf hir routyng leet,
And gan awake, and went hir forth to pisse,
And cam agayn, and hir cradel mysse,
And groped heer and ther, but sche fond noon.
Allas!" quod sche, "I had almost mysgoon;
I had almost goon to the clerkes bed,
Ey, benedicite! than had I foule i-sped!"
And forth sche goth, til sche the cradil fand.
Sche gropith alway forther with hir hand,
And fand the bed, and thoughte nat but good,
Bycause that the cradil by it stood,
Nat knowyng wher sche was, for it was derk ;
But faire and wel sche creep in to the clerk,
And lith ful stille, and wolde han caught a sleep.
Withinne a while Johan the clerk up leep,
And on this goode wyf leyth on ful sore;
So mery a fytt ne hadd sche nat ful yore.
He priketh harde and deepe, as he were mad.
This joly lyf han this twey clerkes had,
Til that the thridde cok bygan to synge,
Aleyn wax wery in the dawenynge,
For he had swonken al the longe night,
And seyd, "Farwel, Malyn, my sweete wight!
The day is come, I may no lenger byde,
But evermo, wher so I go or ryde,
I am thin owen clerk, so have I seel!"
"Now, deere lemman," quod sche, "go, farwel!
But or thou go, o thing I wol the telle:
Whan that thou wendist hom-ward by the melle,
Right at the entré of the dore byhynde
Thou schalt a cake of half a busshel fynde,
That was i-maked of thyn owen mele,
Which that I hilp myn owen self to stele.
And, goode lemman, God the save and kepe!"
And with that word almost sche gan to weepe.
Aleyn uprist, and thought, "Er that it dawe
I wol go crepen in by my felawe;"
And fand the cradil with his hand anon.
"By God!" thought he, "al wrong I have i-goon; 4250
My heed is toty of my swynk to nyght,
That makes me that I ga nought aright.
I wot wel by the cradel I have mysgo;
Heer lith the myller and his wyf also."
Forth he goth in twenty devel way
Unto the bed, ther as the miller lay.
He wende have crope by his felaw Jon,
And by the myller in he creep anon,
And caught him by the nekke, and soft he spak,
And seyde," Jon, thou swyneshed, awak,
For Cristes sowle! and here a noble game;
For, by that lord that cleped is seynt Jame,
As I have thries in this schorte night
Swyved the myllers doughter bolt upright,
Whiles thou hast as a coward ben agast."
"Ye, false harlot," quod this mellere, "hast?
A! false traitour, false clerk!" quod he,
"Thou schalt be deed, by Goddes dignité!
Who durste be so bold to disparage
My doughter, that is come of hih lynage?"
And by the throte-bolle he caught Aleyn,
And he hent him dispitously ageyn,
And on the nose he smot him with his fest.
Doun ran the blody streem upon his brest;
And in the floor with nose and mouth to-broke
They walweden as pigges in a poke;
And up they goon, and doun they goon anon,
Til that the millner stumbled at a ston,
And doun he felle bakward on his wyf,
That wyste nothing of this nyce stryf;
For sche was falle asleepe a litel wight
With Jon the clerk, that waked al the night,
And with the falle right out of slepe sche brayde.
"Help, holy croys of Bromholme!" sche sayde,
"In manus tuas, Lord, to the I calle!
Awake, Symond, the feend is in thin halle!
My hert is broken! help! I am but deed!
Ther lythe upon my wombe and on myn heed.
Help, Symkyn! for this false clerkes fight."
This Johan stert up as fast as ever he might,
And grasped by the walles to and fro,
To fynde a staf; and sche sturt up also,
And knewe the estres bet than dede Jon,
And by the wal sche took a staf anon,
And sawh a litel glymeryng of a light;
For at an hool in schon the moone bright,
And by that light sche saugh hem bothe two;
But sikirly sche wiste nat who was who,
4284.-holy croys of Bromholme. Portions of the real cross were said to compose the cross of the priory of Bromholm, in Norfolk, brought into England with great ceremony in 1223, and thenceforth an extraordinarily popular object of pilgrimage. By the cross (or rood) of Bromholm! seems to have been a very common formula of swearing, and is found in Piers Ploughman, and elsewhere.
But as sche saugh a whit thing in hir ye.
And whan sche gan this white thing aspye,
Sche wend the clerk had wered a volupeer;
And with a staf sche drough hir neer and neer,
And wend have hit this Aleyn atte fulle,
And smot this meller on the piled sculle,
That doun he goth, and cryeth, "Harrow! I dye!"
This clerkes beeten him wel, and leet hym lye,
And greyth hem wel, and take her hors anon,
And eek here mele, and hoom anon they goon :
And at the millen dore they tok here cake,
Of half a buisshel flour ful wel i-bake.
Thus is the prowde miller wel i-bete,
And hath i-lost the gryndyng of the whete,
And payed for the soper every del
Of Aleyn and of Johan, that beten him wel;
His wyf is swyved, and his doughter als.
Lo! such it is a miller to be fals.
And therto this proverbe is seyd ful soth,
He thar nat weene wel that evyl doth.
A gylour schal himself bygiled be.
And God, that sitest in thy magesté,
Save al this compaignie, gret and smale.
Thus have I quyt the miller in his tale.
THE Cook of Londone, whil the Reeve spak,
4318.-he thar nat. The literal meaning of this proverb seems to be. "He need not imagine, or suppose, well, who does evil."
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