“So thé I,”1193 quoth he, “full well could I him quite1194
With blearing1195 of a proudë miller’s eye,
If that me list to speak of ribaldry.
But I am old; me list not play for age;1196
Grass time is done, my fodder is now foráge.
This whitë top1197 writeth mine oldë years;
Mine heart is also moulded1198 as mine hairs;
And I do fare as doth an open-erse;1199
That ilkë1200 fruit is ever longer werse,
Till it be rotten in mullok or in stre.1201
We oldë men, I dread, so farë we;
Till we be rotten, can we not be ripe;
We hop1202 away, while that the world will pipe;
For in our will there sticketh aye a nail,
To have an hoary head and a green tail,
As hath a leek; for though our might be gone,
Our will desireth folly ever-in-one:1203
For when we may not do, then will we speak,
Yet in our ashes cold does firë reek.1204
Four gledës1205 have we, which I shall devise,1206
Vaunting, and lying, anger, covetíse.1207
These fourë sparks belongen unto eld.
Our oldë limbës well may be unweld,1208
But will shall never fail us, that is sooth.
And yet have I alway a coltë’s tooth,1209
As many a year as it is passed and gone
Since that my tap of life began to run;
For sickerly,1210 when I was born, anon
Death drew the tap of life, and let it gon:
And ever since hath so the tap y-run,
Till that almost all empty is the tun.
The stream of life now droppeth on the chimb.1211
The silly tonguë well may ring and chime
Of wretchedness, that passed is full yore:1212
With oldë folk, save dotage, is no more.”1213
When that our Host had heard this sermoning,
He gan to speak as lordly as a king,
And said; “To what amounteth all this wit?
What? shall we speak all day of holy writ?
The devil made a Reevë for to preach,
As of a souter1214 a shipman, or a leach.1215
Say forth thy tale, and tarry not the time:
Lo here is Deptford, and ’tis half past prime:1216
Lo Greenwich, where many a shrew is in.
It were high time thy talë to begin.”
“Now, sirs,” quoth then this Osëwold the Reeve,
“I pray you all that none of you do grieve,
Though I answér, and somewhat set his hove,1217
For lawful is force off with force to shove.1218
This drunken miller hath y-told us here
How that beguiled was a carpentére,
Paráventure in scorn—for I am one:
And, by your leave, I shall him quite anon.
Right in his churlish termës will I speak—
I pray to God his neckë might to-break.
He can well in mine eyë see a stalk,1219
But in his own he cannot see a balk.”
The Tale1220
At Trompington, not far from Cantebrig,1221
There goes a brook, and over that a brig,
Upon the whichë brook there stands a mill:
And this is very sooth that I you tell.
A miller was there dwelling many a day,
As any peacock he was proud and gay:
Pipen he could, and fish, and nettës bete,1222
And turnë cups, and wrestle well, and shete.1223
Aye by his belt he bare a long pavade,1224
And of his sword full trenchant was the blade.
A jolly popper1225 bare he in his pouch;
There was no man for peril durst him touch.
A Sheffield whittle bare he in his hose.
Round was his face, and camuse1226 was his nose.
As pilled1227 as an apë’s was his skull.
He was a market-beter at the full.1228
There durstë no wight hand upon him legge,1229
That he ne swore anon he should abegge.1230
A thief he was, for sooth, of corn and meal,
And that a sly, and used well to steal.
His name was hoten deinous Simekin.1231
A wife he haddë, come of noble kin:
The parson of the town her father was.
With her he gave full many a pan of brass,
For that Simkin should in his blood ally.
She was y-foster’d in a nunnery:
For Simkin wouldë no wife, as he said,
But she were well y-nourish’d, and a maid,
To saven his estate and yeomanry:
And she was proud, and pert as is a pie.1232
A full fair sight it was to see them two;
On holy days before her would he go
With his tippét1233 y-bound about his head;
And she came after in a gite1234 of red,
And Simkin haddë hosen of the same.
There durstë no wight call her aught but Dame:
None was so hardy, walking by that way,
That with her either durstë rage or play,1235
But if1236 he would be slain by Simekin
With pavade, or with knife, or bodëkin.
For jealous folk be per’lous evermo’:
Algate1237 they would their wivës wendë so.1238
And eke for she was somewhat smutterlich,1239
She was as dign1240 as water in a ditch,
And all so full of hoker,1241 and bismare.1242
Her thoughtë that a lady should her spare,1243
What for her kindred, and her nortelrie1244
That she had learned in the nunnery.
One daughter haddë they betwixt them two
Of twenty year, withouten any mo,
Saving a child that was of half year age,
In cradle it lay, and was a proper page.1245
This wenchë thick and well y-growen was,
With camuse nose, and eyen gray as glass;
With buttocks broad, and breastës round and high;
But right fair was her hair, I will not lie.
The parson of the town, for she was fair,1246
In purpose was to make of her his heir
Both of his chattels and his messuage,
And strange
