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T Trompington, not fer fro Cantebrigge,' Ther goth a brook, and over that a brigge, Upon the whiche brook ther stont a melle:2 And this is veray sothe, that I you telle. A miller was ther dwelling many a day, As any peacok he was proude and gay:

Cambridge.

2 Stands a mill.

The Miller of Trompington.

Pipen he coude, and fishe, and nettes bete,

And turnen cuppes, and wrastlen wel, and shete.1
Ay by his belt he bare a long pavade,

And of a swerd ful trenchant was the blade.

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.
As pilled as an ape was his skull.

He was a market-beter1 at the full.
Ther dorste no wight hond upon him legge,
That he ne swore he shuld anon abegge.

A thefe he was forsoth, of corn and mele,
And that a slie, and usant5 for to stele.
His name was hoten deinous Simekim.
A wyf he hadde, comen of noble kin.

Gret soken hath this miller out of doute
With whete and malt, of all the land aboute;
And namely ther was a gret college

Men clepe the Soler hall at Cantebrege,

Ther was hir whete and cke hir malt yground.

And on a day it happed in a stound,o

Sike lay the manciple9 on a maladie,

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;

He craked bost, and swore it n’as not so.

Than were ther yonge poure scoleres two,
That dwelten in the halle of which I say;
Testif they were, and lusty for to play ;

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The Miller of Trompington.

And only for hir mirth and revelrie
Upon the wardein besily they crie,
To yeve hem leve but a litel stound,

To gon to mille, and seen hir11 corn yground:
And hardily they dorsten lay hir necke,
The miller shuld not stele hem half a pecke
Of corn by sleighte, ne by force hem reve.

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: Forth goth Alein the clerk, and also John, With good swerd and with bokeler by hir side. John knew the way, him neded not no guide, And at the mille the sak adoun he laith.

Alein spake first; All haile, Simond, in faith,
How fares thy faire doughter, and thy wif?
Alein, welcome (quod Simkin) by my lif,
And John also: how now, what do ye here?
By God, Simond, (quod John) nede has no pere.
Him behoves serve himself that has na swain,
Or elles he is a fool, as clerkes sain.
Our manciple I hope he wol be ded,

Swa werkes ay the wanges12 in his hed:
And therfore is I come, and eke Alein,
To grind our corn and cary it hame agein:
I pray you spede us henen that ye may.

It shal be don (quod Simkin) by my fay.
What wol ye don while that it is in hand?
By God, right by the hopper wol I stand,
(Quod John) and seen how that the corn gas in.
Yet saw I never by my fader kin,

How that the hopper wagges til and fra.

Alein answered; John, and wolt thou swa?

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