|
"Ye, false harlot," quod the millere, "hast? |
| 415 | A, false traitor! false clerk!" quod he, |
| Tow shalt be deed, by Goddes dignitee! |
| Who dorste be so boold to disparage |
| My doghter, that is come of swich lynage?' |
| And by the throte-bolle he caughte Alayn, |
| 420 | And he hente hym despitously agayn, |
| And on the nose he smoot hym with his fest. |
| Doun ran the blody streem upon his brest; |
| And in the floor, with nose and mouth tobroke, |
| They walwe as doon two pigges in a poke; |
| 425 | And up they goon, and doun agayn anon, |
| Til that the millere sporned at a stoon, |
| And doun he fil bakward upon his wyf, |
| That wiste no thyng of this nyce stryf; |
| For she was falle aslepe a lite wight |
| 430 | With John the clerk, that waked hadde al nyght, |
| And with the fal out of hir sleep she breyde. |
| "Help! hooly croys of Bromeholm," she seyde, |
| 'In manus tuas! Lord, to thee I calle! |
| Awak, Symond! The feend is on me falle. |
| 435 | Myn herte is broken; help! I nam but deed |
| Ther lyth oon upon my wombe and on myn heed. |
| Help. Symkyn, for the false clerkes fighte!" |
| This John stirte up as faste as ever he myghte, |
| And graspeth by the walles to and fro, |
| 440 | To fynde a staf; and she stirte up also, |
| And knew the estres bet than dide this John, |
| And by the wal a staf she foond anon, |
| And saugh a litel shymeryng of a light, |
| For at an hole in shoon the moone bright; |
| 445 | And by that light she saugh hem bothe two, |
| But sikerly she nyste who was who, |
| But as she saugh a whit thyng in hir ye. |
| And whan she gan this white espye, |
| She wende the clerk hadde wered a volupeer, |
| 450 | And with the staf she drow ay neer and neer, |
| And wende han hit this Aleyn at the fulle, |
| And smoot the millere on the pyled skulle, |
| That doun he gooth, and cride, "Harrow! I dye!" |
| Thise clerkes beete hym weel and lete hym lye; |
| 455 | And greythen hem, and tooke hir hors anon, |
| And eek hire mele, and on hir wey they gon. |
| And at the mille yet they tooke hir cake |
| Of half a busshel flour, ful wel ybake. |
| Thus is the proude millere wel ybete, |
| 460 | And hath ylost the gryndynge of the whete, |
| And payed for the soper everideel |
| Of Aleyn and of John, that bette hym weel. |
| His wyf is swyved, and his doghter als. |
| Lo, swich it is a millere to be fals! |
| 465 | And therfore this proverbe is seyd ful sooth, |
| 'Hym thar nat wene wel that yvele dooth'; |
| A gylour shal hymself bigyled be. |
| And God, that sitteth heighte in magestee, |
| Save al this compaignye, grete and smale! |
| 470 | Thus have I quyt the Millere in my tale. |
|
| "You scoundrel, you did what?" the miller cried, |
| 415 | Ah, false traitor and treacherous clerk!" raged he, |
| "You shall be killed, by God's own dignity! |
| Who dares be bold enough to bring to shame |
| My daughter, who is born of such a name?" |
| And by the throat, then, he caught Alain. |
| 420 | And pitilessly he handled this hapless man, |
| And on the nose he smashed him with his fist. |
| Down ran the bloody stream upon his breast; |
| With broken mouth and nose on the floor, |
| They moved as pigs in a bag, searching for a door. |
| 425 | And up they came, and down they both went, prone, |
| Until the miller stumbled on a stone, |
| And staggered and fell down backwards on his wife, |
| Who nothing knew of all this silly strife; |
| For she had fallen asleep with John the clerk |
| 430 | Tired of all their labour in the dark. |
| But at the fall, from sleep she started out. |
| "Help, holy Cross of Bromholm!" did she shout, |
| "In manus tuas, Lord, to You I call! |
| Simon, awake, the Fiend is on us all |
| 435 | My heart is broken, help, I'm almost dead! |
| There lies one on my womb, one on my head! |
| Help, Simpkin, for these treacherous clerks do fight!" |
| John started up, as fast as well he might, |
| And searched along the wall, and to and fro, |
| 440 | To find a staff; and she arose also, |
| And knowing the room better than did John, |
| She found a staff against the wall, thereupon; |
| And then she saw a little ray of light, |
| For through a hole the moon was shining bright; |
| 445 | And by that light she saw the struggling two, |
| But certainly she knew not who was who, |
| Except she saw a white thing with her eye. |
| And when she did this same white thing espy, |
| She thought the clerk had worn a nightcap here. |
| 450 | And with the staff she nearer drew, and near, |
| And, thinking to hit Alain on his poll, |
| She fetched the miller on his bald white skull, |
| And down he went, crying out, "Help, help, I die!" |
| The two clerks beat him well and let him lie; |
| 455 | And clothed themselves, and took their horse straightway, |
| And got their flour, and were gone on their way. |
| And at the mill they found the well-made cake |
| Which of their meal the miller's wife did bake. |
| Thus soundly beaten is the haughty miller, |
| 460 | And received no pay for putting wheat in the grinder, |
| And paid for the two suppers, completely, |
| Of Alain, and of John, who've tricked him fairly. |
| His wife is screwed, also his daughter sweet; |
| Thus it befalls a miller who's a cheat. |
| 465 | And therefore is this proverb said with truth, |
| "An evil end to evil man, forsooth." |
| The cheater shall himself well cheated be. |
| And God, who sits on high in majesty, |
| Except all this company, both strong and frail! |
| 470 | Thus have I repaid this miller with my tale. |
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