T Trompington, not fer fro Cantebrigge,' Ther goth a brook, and over that a brigge, Upon the whiche brook ther stont a melle: that I telle. you And this is veray sothe, A miller was ther dwelling many a day, As any peacok he was proude and gay: 1 Cambridge. 2 Stands a mill. B Pipen he coude, and fishe, and nettes bete, And turnen cuppes, and wrastlen wel, and shete.1 A joly popper bare he in his pouche; Ther n'as no man for peril dorst him touche. A Shefeld thwitel bare he in his hose. Round was his face, and camuse3 was his nose. He was a market-beter at the full. Ther dorste no wight hond upon him legge, A thefe he was forsoth, of corn and mele, Gret soken hath this miller out of doute Men clepe the Soler hall at Cantebrege, Ther was hir whete and eke hir malt yground. And on a day it happed in a stound,8 Men wenden wisly that he shulde die. For which this miller stale both mele and corn An hundred times more than beforn. For therbeforn he stale but curteisly, But now he was a thefe outrageously. For which the werdein10 chidde and made fare, But therof set the miller not a tare; Than were ther yonge poure scoleres two, And only for hir mirth and revelrie Το gon And at the last the wardein yave hem leve: John highte that on, and Alein highte that other, Of o toun were they born, that highte Strother, Fer in the North, I can not tellen where. This Alein maketh redy all his gere, And on a hors the sack he cast anon: Alein spake first; All haile, Simond, in faith, Or elles he is a fool, as clerkes sain. Our manciple I hope he wol be ded, It shal be don (quod Simkin) by my fay. How that the hopper wagges til and fra. Alein answered; John, and wolt thou swa? |