|
Now ber thee wel, thou hende Nicholas, |
| 290 | For Absolon may waille and synge 'allas.' |
| And so bifel it on a Saturday, |
| This carpenter was goon til Osenay; |
| And hende Nicholas and Alison |
| Acorded been to this conclusioun, |
| 295 | That Nicholas shal shapen hym a wyle |
| This sely jalous housbonde to bigyle; |
| And if so be the game wente aright, |
| She sholde slepen in his arm al nyght, |
| For this was his desir and hire also. |
| 300 | And right anon, withouten wordes mo, |
| This Nicholas no lenger wolde tarie, |
| But dooth ful softe unto his chambre carie |
| Bothe mete and drynke for a day or tweye, |
| And to hire housbonde bad hire for to seye, |
| 305 | If that he axed after Nicholas, |
| She sholde seye she nyste where he was, |
| Of al that day she saugh hym nat with ye; |
| She trowed that he was in maladye, |
| For for no cry hir mayde koude hym calle, |
| 310 | He nolde answere for thyng that myghte falle. |
| This passeth forth al thilke Saterday, |
| That Nicholas stille in his chambre lay, |
| And eet and sleep, or dide what hym leste, |
| Til Sonday, that the sonne gooth to reste. |
| 315 | This sely carpenter hath greet merveyle |
| Of Nicholas, or what thyng myghte hym eyle, |
| And seyde, "I am adrad, by Seint Thomas, |
| It stondeth nat aright with Nicholas. |
| God shilde that he deyde sodeynly! |
| 320 | This world is now ful tikel, sikerly. |
| I saugh today a cors yborn to chirche |
| That now, on Monday last, I saugh hym wirche. |
| 'Go up,' quod he unto his knave anoon, |
| "Clepe at his dore, or knokke with a stoon. |
| 325 | Looke how it is, and tel me boldely." |
| This knave gooth hym up ful sturdily, |
| And at the chambre dore whil that he stood, |
| He cride and knokked as that he were wood, |
| "What! how! what do ye, maister Nicholay? |
| 330 | How may ye slepen al the longe day?" |
|
|
Now bear you well, you clever Nicholas! |
| 290 | For Absalom may wail and sing "Alas!" |
| And so it chanced that on a Saturday |
| This carpenter departed to Osney; |
| And clever Nicholas and Alison |
| Were well agreed to this effect: anon |
| 295 | This Nicholas should put in play a wile |
| The simple, jealous husband to beguile; |
| And if it chanced the game should go a-right, |
| She was to sleep within his arms all night, |
| For this was his desire, and hers also. |
| 300 | Presently then, and without more ado, |
| This Nicholas, no longer did he tarry, |
| But softly to his chamber did he carry |
| Both food and drink to last at least a day, |
| Saying that to her husband she should say - |
| 305 | If he should come to ask for Nicholas - |
| Why, she should say she knew not where he was, |
| For all day she'd not seen him, far or nigh; |
| She thought he must have got some malady, |
| Because in vain her maid would knock and call; |
| 310 | He'd answer not, whatever might befall. |
| And so it was that all that Saturday |
| This Nicholas quietly in chamber lay, |
| And ate and slept, or did what pleased him best, |
| Till Sunday when the sun had gone to rest. |
| 315 | This simple man with wonder heard the tale, |
| And marvelled what their Nicholas might ail, |
| And said: "I am afraid, by Saint Thomas, |
| That everything's not well with Nicholas. |
| God send he be not dead so suddenly! |
| 320 | This world is most unstable, certainly;
| | I saw, today, the corpse being carried to church |
| Of one who, but last Monday, was at work. |
| Go up," said he unto his boy anon, |
| "Call at his door, or knock there with a stone, |
| 325 | Learn how it is and boldly come tell me."
| | The servant went up, then, right sturdily, |
| And at the chamber door, the while he stood, |
| He cried and knocked as any madman would - |
| "What! How! What do you, Master Nicholay? |
| 330 | How can you sleep through all the livelong day?" |
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