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‘By Goddes soul,’ quod he, ‘that wol nat I; For I wol speke, or elles go my wey.’ Our Hoste answerde: ‘tel on, a devel wey! Thou art a fool, thy wit is overcome.’ ‘By Goddes soul,’ quod he, ‘that wol nat I; For I wol speke, or elles go my wey.’ Our Hoste answerde: ‘tel on, a devel wey! Thou art a fool, thy wit is overcome.’
‘Now herkneth,’ quod the Miller, ‘alle and some! But first I make a protestacioun That I am dronke, I knowe it by my soun; And therfore, if that I misspeke or seye, Wyte it the ale of Southwerk, I yow preye; For I wol telle a legende and a lyf Bothe of a Carpenter, and of his wyf, How that a clerk hath set the wrightes cappe.’ ‘Now herkneth,’ quod the Miller, ‘alle and some! But first I make a protestacioun That I am dronke, I knowe it by my soun; And therfore, if that I misspeke or seye, Wyte it the ale of Southwerk, I yow preye; For I wol telle a legende and a lyf Bothe of a Carpenter, and of his wyf, How that a clerk hath set the wrightes cappe.’
The Reve answerde and seyde, ‘stint thy clappe, Lat be thy lewed dronken harlotrye. It is a sinne and eek a greet folye To apeiren any man, or him diffame, And eek to bringen wyves in swich fame. Thou mayst y-nogh of othere thinges seyn.’ The Reve answerde and seyde, ‘stint thy clappe, Lat be thy lewed dronken harlotrye. It is a sinne and eek a greet folye To apeiren any man, or him diffame, And eek to bringen wyves in swich fame. Thou mayst y-nogh of othere thinges seyn.’
This dronken Miller spak ful sone ageyn, And seyde, ‘leve brother Osewold, Who hath no wyf, he is no cokewold. But I sey nat therfore that thou art oon; Ther been ful gode wyves many oon, And ever a thousand gode ayeyns oon badde, That knowestow wel thy-self, but-if thou madde. Why artow angry with my tale now? I have a wyf, pardee, as well as thou, Yet nolde I, for the oxen in my plogh, Taken upon me more than y-nogh, As demen of my-self that I were oon; I wol beleve wel that I am noon. An housbond shal nat been inquisitif Of Goddes privetee, nor of his wyf. So he may finde Goddes foyson there, Of the remenant nedeth nat enquere.’ This dronken Miller spak ful sone ageyn, And seyde, ‘leve brother Osewold, Who hath no wyf, he is no cokewold. But I sey nat therfore that thou art oon; Ther been ful gode wyves many oon, And ever a thousand gode ayeyns oon badde, That knowestow wel thy-self, but-if thou madde. Why artow angry with my tale now? I have a wyf, pardee, as well as thou, Yet nolde I, for the oxen in my plogh, Taken upon me more than y-nogh, As demen of my-self that I were oon; I wol beleve wel that I am noon. An housbond shal nat been inquisitif Of Goddes privetee, nor of his wyf. So he may finde Goddes foyson there, Of the remenant nedeth nat enquere.’

Original Text

Modern Text

‘By Goddes soul,’ quod he, ‘that wol nat I; For I wol speke, or elles go my wey.’ Our Hoste answerde: ‘tel on, a devel wey! Thou art a fool, thy wit is overcome.’ ‘By Goddes soul,’ quod he, ‘that wol nat I; For I wol speke, or elles go my wey.’ Our Hoste answerde: ‘tel on, a devel wey! Thou art a fool, thy wit is overcome.’
‘Now herkneth,’ quod the Miller, ‘alle and some! But first I make a protestacioun That I am dronke, I knowe it by my soun; And therfore, if that I misspeke or seye, Wyte it the ale of Southwerk, I yow preye; For I wol telle a legende and a lyf Bothe of a Carpenter, and of his wyf, How that a clerk hath set the wrightes cappe.’ ‘Now herkneth,’ quod the Miller, ‘alle and some! But first I make a protestacioun That I am dronke, I knowe it by my soun; And therfore, if that I misspeke or seye, Wyte it the ale of Southwerk, I yow preye; For I wol telle a legende and a lyf Bothe of a Carpenter, and of his wyf, How that a clerk hath set the wrightes cappe.’
The Reve answerde and seyde, ‘stint thy clappe, Lat be thy lewed dronken harlotrye. It is a sinne and eek a greet folye To apeiren any man, or him diffame, And eek to bringen wyves in swich fame. Thou mayst y-nogh of othere thinges seyn.’ The Reve answerde and seyde, ‘stint thy clappe, Lat be thy lewed dronken harlotrye. It is a sinne and eek a greet folye To apeiren any man, or him diffame, And eek to bringen wyves in swich fame. Thou mayst y-nogh of othere thinges seyn.’
This dronken Miller spak ful sone ageyn, And seyde, ‘leve brother Osewold, Who hath no wyf, he is no cokewold. But I sey nat therfore that thou art oon; Ther been ful gode wyves many oon, And ever a thousand gode ayeyns oon badde, That knowestow wel thy-self, but-if thou madde. Why artow angry with my tale now? I have a wyf, pardee, as well as thou, Yet nolde I, for the oxen in my plogh, Taken upon me more than y-nogh, As demen of my-self that I were oon; I wol beleve wel that I am noon. An housbond shal nat been inquisitif Of Goddes privetee, nor of his wyf. So he may finde Goddes foyson there, Of the remenant nedeth nat enquere.’ This dronken Miller spak ful sone ageyn, And seyde, ‘leve brother Osewold, Who hath no wyf, he is no cokewold. But I sey nat therfore that thou art oon; Ther been ful gode wyves many oon, And ever a thousand gode ayeyns oon badde, That knowestow wel thy-self, but-if thou madde. Why artow angry with my tale now? I have a wyf, pardee, as well as thou, Yet nolde I, for the oxen in my plogh, Taken upon me more than y-nogh, As demen of my-self that I were oon; I wol beleve wel that I am noon. An housbond shal nat been inquisitif Of Goddes privetee, nor of his wyf. So he may finde Goddes foyson there, Of the remenant nedeth nat enquere.’