The Reeve's Tale
Folio 56r
11 of 12 folios
For she was falle aslepe / alitel wight
With Ioħn the clerk that waked hadde al nyght
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And with the fal / out of hir sleepe she brayde
Help holy cros of Bromholm / she sayde
In manus tuas / lord to thee I calle
Awake Symond / the feend is on me falle
Myn herte is broken / help I nam but ded
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Ther lyth oon vp on my wombe / and vp myn hed
Help Symkyn / for the false clerkes fighte
¶ This Ioħn sterte vp / as faste as euere he myghte
And graspeth by the walles / to and fro
To fynde a staf / and she sterte vp also
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And knew the estres / bet than dide this Ioħn
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
And by that light she saugh hem bothe two
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But sikerly / she nyste who was who
But as she saugh / a whit thyng in hir Iye
And whan she gan / this white thyng espye
She wende the clerk hadde wered a voluper
And with the staf / she drow ay ner and ner
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And wende han hit this Aleyn atte fulle
And smoot the Millere / on the piled skulle
That doun he gooth / and cryde harrow I dye
Thise clerkes bette hym wel / and lete hym lye
And greithen hem / and tooke hir hors anon
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And eek hir mele / and on hir wey they gon
And at the Mille / yet they toke hir cake
Of half a busshel flour / ful wel ybake
¶ Thus is the proude Millere / wel ybete
And hath ylost the gryndyng of the whete
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And payed for the souper / euerydel
Of Aleyn / and of Ioħn / that bette hym wel
His wyf is swyued / and his doghter als
Lo which it is / a Millere to be fals
And therfore this prouerbe / is seyd ful sooth
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Hym thar nat wene wel / þt yuele dooth
A gilour shal hym self / bigiled be
And god / that sitteth heighe in magestee