The works of our ancient, learned, & excellent English poet, Jeffrey Chaucer as they have lately been compar'd with the best manuscripts, and several things added, never before in print : to which is adjoyn'd The story of the siege of Thebes, by John Lidgate ... : together with The life of Chaucer, shewing his countrey, parentage, education, marriage, children, revenues, service, reward, friends, books, death : also a table, wherein the old and obscure words in Chaucer are explained, and such words ... that either are, by nature or derivation, Arabick, Greek, Latine, Italian, French, Dutch, or Saxon, mark'd with particular notes for the better understanding of their original.

¶The Reues Prologue.

WHen folke had laughed at this nice caas Of Absolon and Hende Nicholas, Diuers folke hereof diuersly they said, But for the more part they lough and plaid: Ne at this tale I saw no man him greue, But it were onely Oswolde the Reue: Because he was of carpenters craft, A little ire in his heart ylaft. He gan to grutchen and blame it a lite: Soothly (qd. he) full well couth I thee quite With blearing of a proud Millers eie, If that me list to speake of ribaudrie. But I am old, me lust not play for age, * Grasse time is done, my fodder is forage: This white top writeth mine old yeres, Which sometime yelow was, now white ben min heres: * But yet I fare as doth an open ers, That ilke fruit is euer lenger the wers Till it be rotten in molloke or in stre. We old men, I dreaden so fare we, Till we be rotten can we not be ripe, * We hoppen alway, while the world wol pipe: * For in our will there stiketh euer a naile, To haue an hore head and a greene taile, As hath a leke, for though our might be gone, Our will desireth folly euer in one: For when we may not don, than wol we spe∣ken. * Yet in our ashen cold is fire yreken. * Four gledes han we, which I shall deuise, Auaunting, lying, anger, and couetise, These foure sparkles longen unto elde: Our old lims mow well been vnwelde, But will ne shall not faile, that is sooth. * And yet have I alway a colts tooth, As many a yeare as it is passed henne, Since that my tap of life began to renne. For sikerly, when I was borne anone, Death drew the tap of life, and let it gone: And euer since hath the tap pronne, Till that almost all emptie is the tonne. The streme of life now droppeth on the chimb, * The silly tongue may well ring and climb Of wretchednesse, that passed is full yore: With old folke saue dotage is no more. When that our host had heard this sermo∣ning, He gan to speake as lordly as a king, And said: what amounteth all this wit? What shall we speake all day of holy writ? * The diuel I thinke made a Reue to preche Or a souter, a shipman, or a leche. Say forth thy tale, and tary not the time: Lo Depford, and it is halfe way prime: Lo Greenwiche, that many a shrew is in, It were time thy tale for to begin. Now sirs then qd. this Oswold the Reue, I pray you all, that ye not you greue, * That I answere, & somedele set his houfe, * For lefull it is with force, force off to shoufe. This dronken Miller hath ytold vs here, How that beguiled was a carpentere Perauenture in scorne, for I am one: And by your leaue, I shall him quite anon, Right in his churles tearmes woll I speke, I pray to God his necke mote be to breke, * He can well in mine eye seene a stalke, But in his own he cannot seene a balke.

DEnyse Simkin, the Miller of Trompington, deceiveth two Clarks of Schollars Hall in Cam∣bridge, in stealing their Corn; but they so use the matter, that they revenge the wrong to the full. The Argument of this Tale is taken out of Bocchace in his Novels.

¶The Reues Tale.

AT Trompington, not far fro Cam∣bridge There goth a brook, and ouer that a bridge, Vpon the which brooke there stant a mell: And this is very sooth, as I you tell. A Miller was there dwelling many a day, As any peacocke he was proud and gay: Pipen he couth, and fishen, and nets bete, And turne cups, and well wrastle and shete. Aye by his belt he bare a long pauade, And of a sword full trenchaunt was the blade. A jolly popere bare he in his pouch, Ther nas no man for perill durst him touch. A Shefeld thwitel bare he in his hose, Round was his face, & camised was his nose. As pilled as an ape was his skull, He was a market beater at the full. There dursten no wight hond on him ledge, But he ne swore he should sore abedge. A theefe he was forsooth, of corne and mele, And that a slie, and vsaunt for to stele. His name was hoten Deynous Simkyn, A wife he had, comen of noble kin: The parson of the toune her father was, With her he yafe full many a panne of bras. For that Simkyn should in his blood allie, She was yfostered in a nunnerie: For Simkyn would no wife, as he said, But she were well ynourished, and a maid, To saue his estate of yomanrie. And she was proud, and pert as a pie, A full faire sight was it to see hem two. On holy daies beforne her would he go With his tipet wounden about his heed, And she came after in a gite of reed, And Simkyn had hosen of the same. There durst no wight clepen her but dame: Was none so hardy, that went by the way, That with her once durst rage or play, But if he would be slaine of Simkyn With pauade, or with knife, or bodkin. * For jealous folkes been perilous euermo Algates they would her wiues wenden so. And eke for she was somedele smoterliche: She was as digne as water in a diche, And as full of hoker, and of bismare, As though that a ladie should her spare, What for her kinred, and her norterly, That she had learned in the nonnery. A doughter had they betwixt hem two Of twenty yeare, withouten any mo, Sauing a child was halfe a yeare of age, In cradle it lay, and was a proper page. This wench thicke and well ygrowne was, With camised nose and eyen gray as glas: With buttockes broad, & brests round & hie, But right faire was her haire, I woll nat lie. The parson of the toune, for she was faire, In purpose was to maken her his haire Both of his cattell, and of his mesuage, And straunge he made it of her mariage: His purpose was to bestowen her hie Into some worthy blood of auncetrie. For holy churches good mote been dispended On holy churches blood that is descended. Therefore he would his holy blood honour, Though that he holy church should deuour. Great soken hath this Miller out of dout With wheat and malt, of all the land about, And namely there was a great college Men clepen it the Schollers Hall of Cam∣brege, Ther was her wheat & eke her malt iground. And on a day it happed in a stound, Sicke lay the Manciple on a maladie, Men wenden wisely that he should die. For which this miller stale both wheat & corn An hundred time more than he did biforn. For there before, he stale but courteously, But he now was a theefe outragiously: For which the warden chid and made fare, But thereof set the Miller not a tare, He cracked, bosted, and swore it nas not so. Then were there yong poor schollers two, That dwelten in the Hall, of which I say, Testife they were, and lustie for to play: And only for her mirth and reuely, Vpon the Warden busily they cry To yeue hem leaue but a little stound, To gone to mill, to see her corne yground: And hardely they durst lay her neck, The Miller should not steale hem halfe a peck Of corne by sleight, ne by force hem reue. And at the last the warden yaue hem leue: Iohan hight that one, & Alein hight the other, Of a town they were both, that hight Strother Farre in the North, can I not tell where. This Alein maketh alredy his gere, And on a horse the sacke he cast anon: Forth goeth Alein the clerke, and also Iohn, With good sword and buckeler by her side. Iohan knew the way, him needeth no guide, And at the mill dore the sacke down he layth. Alein spake first: all haile Simken in fayth, How fares thy faire doughter, and thy wife? Alein welcome (qd. Simken) by my life, And Iohn also: how now, what do ye here? * By god Simond (qd. Iohn) need has no pere, * Him behoues serue himselfe that has no swaine, Or els he is a foole, as clerkes saine. Our Manciple I hope he will be dead, Swa werkes aye the wange in his head: And therefore is I come, and eke Alein, To grind our corne and carry it home agein: We pray you speed vs home in that ye may. It shall be done (qd. Simkin) by my fay: What woll you done while it is in hand? By God, right by the hopper woll I stand,

Qd. Iohn: & seen howgates the corn goth in, Yet saw I neuer by my father kin, How that the hopper waggs to and fra. Alein answerd: Iohan wilt thou sa? Then woll I stand beneath by my croune, And see how the meale falleth adoune Into the troghe, that shall be my disport: Qd. Iohn, in say I may been of your sort, I is as ill a Miller as is ye. This Miller smileth at her nicite, And thought all his done for a wile, They wene that no man may hem beguile, * But by my thrift yet shall I bleare her eie, For all the sleight in her philosophie, The more queint clerks that they themselves make, The more woll I steale when I gin to take: * Insteed of flour yet, woll I give hem brenne, * The greatest clerks ben not the wisest menne As why some to the wolfe spake the Mare: Of all her art count I not a tare. Out of the doore he goeth full priuily, When that he saw his time, subtilly He looked up and doune, till he had yfound The clerkes horse, there as he stood ybound Behind the Mill, vnder a lessell: And to the horse he goth him faire and well, He strippeth of the bridle right anon. And when the horse was loose, he gan to gon Toward the fen, there as wild mares rinne, And forth with wehe, through thick & thinne. The Miller goeth againe, no word he said, But doth his note, & with these clerkes plaid, Till that her corne was faire & well yground. And when the meal was sacked and ybound, This Iohn goth out & found her horse away, And gan to crie harrow and welaway, Our horse is lost, Alein for Gods benes, Step on thy feet man, come forth all atenes: Alas our Warden has his paltrey lorne, This Alein all forgot both meale & corne: All was out of mind his husbandrie: What, whilke way is he gone? he gan to crie. The wife came leaping inward at a renne, She saied alas, he goeth to the fenne With wild Mares, as fast as he may go: Vnthank come on his hond that bound him so, And he that better should haue knit the rein. Alas (qd. Iohn) Alein for Christs pein Lay doun thy sword, & I shall mine alswa: I is full swift God wete as is a raa. By Gods fale he shall not scape vs bathe: Why ne hadst thou put the capel in the lathe? Ill heste Alein, by God thou is a fonne. These ••elie clerkes han full fast ironne Toward the fenne, Alein and eke Iohn: And when the miller saw that they wer gon, He halfe a bushell of her flower both take. And had his wife knede it in a cake. He said, I trow the clerks were aferde. * Yet can a Miller make a clerks berde, For all her art, yet let hem gone her way, * Lo where they gone, let the children play: They get him not so litely by my croune. These selie clerks re••nen vp and doune With kepe, kepe, iossa, iossa warth there, Go whistle thou, and I shall keepe him here. But shortly, till it was very night They couth not tho they did all her might, Her capell catch, he ran away so fast: Till in a ditch they caught him at the last. Werie and wet as beastes in the rain, Cometh silly Iohn, & with him cometh Alein: Alas (qd. Iohn) the day that I was borne, Now are we driven to hethen and to skorne: Our corne is stole, men woll us fooles call, Both the Warden, and our fellowes all, And namely the Miller, wallaway. Thus plaineth Iohn, as he goth by the way Toward the Mill, and bayard in his hond. The Miller sitting by the fire he fond, For it was niʒt, & ferther might they nought. But for the love of God they him besought Of her borough and ease, as for her peny. The Miller said ayen, if there be any, Such as it is, yet shall ye haue your part: My house is strait, but ye haue learned art, Ye can by argument make a place A mile broad, of twenty foot of space: Let see now if this place may suffice, Or make it romer with speech, as is your gise. Now Simond (said Ihon) by S. Cutherd Aye is thou mery, and that is faire answerd. I haue heard say, men shuld take of two things * Swilke as he finds, or swilke as he brings. But specially I pray thee host dere, Get us some meat & drink, & make vs chere And we will pay truly at the full: * With empty hond, men may no haukes tull. Lo here our siluer ready for to spend. The Miller to the toun his doughter send For ale and bread, and rosted hem a goos, And bound her hors he shuld no more go loos: And in his owne chamber he made a bed With sheetes and with chalons faire yspred, Not from his owne hed ten foot or twelue: His doughter had a hed all by her selue, Right in the same chamber fast them by: It might he ne bette, and the cause why, There was no roumer herbrough in that place. They soupen, & speaken of mirth and solace, And dronken euer strong ale at the best. About midnight went they to rest. Well hath this Miller vernished his hed, Full pale he was for dronken, & nothing red. He gaspeth, & he speaketh through his nose, As he were in the quacke, or in the pose. To hed he goeth, and with him his wife, As any Iay was she light and iolife, So was her iolly whistle well ywet. The cradle at the beds fe••t was set To roken, and to yeue the child to suke. And when that dronken was all in the cruke To bed went the doughter right anon, To bed goeth Alein and also Iohn. There uas no more, hem needed no dwale, This Miller hath so wisely bibbed ale, That as an hors he snorteth in his steepe, Ne of his taile behind he tooke no keepe. His wife bare to him a bordon well strong, Men might hem heare routen a furlong.

The wench routeth eke par company. Alein the clerke that heard this melody, He poked on Iohan, and saied: sleepest thou? Heardst thou euer swilke a sang ere now? Lo swilke a coupling is it wixt hem all, A wild fire vpon her bodies fall, Who heard euer swilke a ferly thing, Ye, they shall haue the floure of euill ending: All this lang night there tides me no rest: But yet naforce, all shall be for the best. For Ihon (saied he) as euer mote I thriue? If that I may, yon wench woll I swiue. Some easement hath law yshapen vs. For Iohan, there is a law that saieth thus, * That if a man in one point been agreeued, That in another he shall be releeued. Our corne is stolne, soothly it is no nay, And we haue had an euill fit to day. And since I shall haue none amendement Againe my losse I will haue mine easement: By Gods sale, it shall none other bee. This Iohan answered: Alein, auise thee: The Miller is a perillous man, he saied, And if that he out of his sleepe abraied, He might doen vs both a villanie. Alein answered: I count him not worth a flie. And vp he rest, and by the wench he crept. This wench say vpright, and fast she slept, Till he so nigh was, ere she might espie, That it had been too late for to crie: And shortly for to say, they were at one. Now play Alein, for I woll speake of Ihon. This Ihon lay still a furlong way or two, And to himselfe he maketh routh and wo: Alas (qd. he) this is a wicked iape, Now may I say, I is but an Ape: Yet hath my fellow somewhat for his harme, He hath the Millers doughter in his arme: He auntreth him, and hath his need ysped, And I lie as a drafte sacke in my bed, And when this iape is told another dey, I shall be hold a daffe or a cokeney: I woll arise, and auntre me by my fay: * Vnhardie is vnsely, thus men say. And vp he rose, and softly he went Vnto the cradle, and in his arme it hent, And bare it softly to his beds fete. Soone after the wife her routing lete, And gan awake, and went her out to pisse, And came againe, and gan the cradle misse, And groped here & there, but she found none: Alas (qd. she) I had almost misgone, I had almost gone to the clerkes bed: Eye benedicite, then had I foule ysped. And forth she goeth, till she the cradle fond, She gropeth alway further with her hond, And found the bed, and thought nat but good, Because that the cradle by it stood: And nist where she was, for it was derke, But faire and well she crept in by the clerke, And lieth full still, & wold haue caught a slepe. Within a while this Ihon the clerke vp lepe, And on this good wife he laied full sore, So merry a fit had she nought full yore: And priked hard and deepe, as he were mad. This iolly life haue these two clerkes lad, Till that the third cocke began to sing. Alein waxe wearie in the dauning, For he had swonken all the long night, And saied, farewell Malin my sweet wight. The day is comen, I may no longer bide, But euermo, whereso I goe or ride, I am thine owne clerke, so haue I hele. Now deare lemman (qd. she) go, farwele: But or thou go, one thing I woll thee tell, When thou wendest homeward by the Mell, Right at the entre of the dore behind Thou shalt a cake of halfe a bushell find, That was ymaked of thine owne meale, Which that I did helpe my fire to steale. And good lemman God thee saue and keepe, And with that word she gan almost to weepe. Alein vprist and thought ere it daw He would goe creepe in by his felaw: And found the cradle with his hand anon, By God thought he all wrong haue I gon: My head is tottie of my swinke to night, That maketh me that I go not aright. I wot well by the cradle I haue misse go, Here lieth the Miller and his wife also. * And forth he goeth on twenty deuill way Vnto the bed there as the Miller lay. He wend haue cropen by his fellow Ihon, And by the Miller he crept in anon, And caught him by the necke, & soft he spake, And saied: Ihon, thou swineshead awake, For Christs soule, and heare a noble game: For by that lord that called is saint Iame, I haue thrise as in this short night Swiued the Milers doughter bolt upright, Whilest thou hast as a coward been agast. Ye false harlot (qd. the Miller) hast? A false traitour, A thou clerke (qd. he) Thou shalt be dead by Gods dignite. Who durst be so bold to disparage My doughter, that is come of such linage? And by the throat boll he caught Alein, And he him hent dispitously again, And on the nose he smote him with his fest, Doune ran the blood stream vpon his brest: And in the floore, with mouth and nose ybroke They wallowen, as doth pigs in a poke. And vp they gone, and doune ayen anone, Till that the Miller spurned on a stone, And doune he fell backward vpon his wife, That wist nothing of this nice strife. For she was fall asleepe a little wight With Ihon the clerk that waked had all night: And with the fall out of her steepe she braied, Helpe holy crosse of Bromholme she saied: In manus tuas, lord to thee I call, Awake Simond, the fiend is on me fall. My heart is broken, helpe I am but dead, There lieth one on my wombe & on my head, Helpe Simkin, for these false clerks do fight. This Ihon stert vp as fast as euer he might, And graspeth by the wals to and fro To find a staffe, and she stert vp also, And knew the eftres bet than did this Ihon, And by the wall she found a staffe anon: And saw a little shemering of a light, For at an hole in shone the Moone bright,

And by that light she saw hem both two, But sikerly she nist who was who, But as she sey a white thing in her eie: And when she gan this white thing espie She wend the clerke had weard a voluper, And with the staffe she drow ner and ner, And wend haue hit this Alein at full, And smote the Miller on the pilled skull, That doun he goth, and cried harrow I die: These clerkes beat him well, and let him lie, And raieth hem, and tooke her horse anon, And eke her meale, and on her way they gon: And at the Mill dore they tooke her cake Of halfe a bushell floure, well ybake. Thus is the proud Miller well ybete, And hath ylost the grinding of the whete, And paid for the supper euery dele Of Alein and of Ihon, that beat him wele: His wife is swiued, and his doughter als, Lo such it is a Miller to be fals. And therefore this prouerbe is full sooth, * Him dare not well weene that euill dooth: A guilour shall himselfe beguiled be. And God that sit in hie maieste Saue all this company, great and smale, Thus haue I quit the Miller in his tale.