No Fear Literature: The Canterbury Tales: The Miller's Tale The Miller’s Tale Page 8

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Original Text	Modern Text
This sely carpenter hath greet merveyle Of Nicholas, or what thing mighte him eyle, And seyde, ‘I am adrad, by seint Thomas, It stondeth nat aright with Nicholas. God shilde that he deyde sodeynly! This world is now ful tikel, sikerly; I saugh to-day a cors y-born to chirche That now, on Monday last, I saugh him wirche.	This sely carpenter hath greet merveyle Of Nicholas, or what thing mighte him eyle, And seyde, ‘I am adrad, by seint Thomas, It stondeth nat aright with Nicholas. God shilde that he deyde sodeynly! This world is now ful tikel, sikerly; I saugh to-day a cors y-born to chirche That now, on Monday last, I saugh him wirche.
Go up,’ quod he unto his knave anoon, ‘Clepe at his dore, or knokke with a stoon, Loke how it is, and tel me boldely.’	Go up,’ quod he unto his knave anoon, ‘Clepe at his dore, or knokke with a stoon, Loke how it is, and tel me boldely.’
This knave gooth him up ful sturdily, And at the chambre-dore, whyl that he stood, He cryde and knokked as that he were wood:— ‘What! how! what do ye, maister Nicholay? How may ye slepen al the longe day?’	This knave gooth him up ful sturdily, And at the chambre-dore, whyl that he stood, He cryde and knokked as that he were wood:— ‘What! how! what do ye, maister Nicholay? How may ye slepen al the longe day?’
But al for noght, he herde nat a word; An hole he fond, ful lowe upon a bord, Ther as the cat was wont in for to crepe; And at that hole he looked in ful depe, And at the laste he hadde of him a sighte. This Nicholas sat gaping ever up-righte, As he had kyked on the newe mone. Adoun he gooth, and tolde his maister sone In what array he saugh this ilke man.	But al for noght, he herde nat a word; An hole he fond, ful lowe upon a bord, Ther as the cat was wont in for to crepe; And at that hole he looked in ful depe, And at the laste he hadde of him a sighte. This Nicholas sat gaping ever up-righte, As he had kyked on the newe mone. Adoun he gooth, and tolde his maister sone In what array he saugh this ilke man.

Original Text	Modern Text
This sely carpenter hath greet merveyle Of Nicholas, or what thing mighte him eyle, And seyde, ‘I am adrad, by seint Thomas, It stondeth nat aright with Nicholas. God shilde that he deyde sodeynly! This world is now ful tikel, sikerly; I saugh to-day a cors y-born to chirche That now, on Monday last, I saugh him wirche.	This sely carpenter hath greet merveyle Of Nicholas, or what thing mighte him eyle, And seyde, ‘I am adrad, by seint Thomas, It stondeth nat aright with Nicholas. God shilde that he deyde sodeynly! This world is now ful tikel, sikerly; I saugh to-day a cors y-born to chirche That now, on Monday last, I saugh him wirche.
Go up,’ quod he unto his knave anoon, ‘Clepe at his dore, or knokke with a stoon, Loke how it is, and tel me boldely.’	Go up,’ quod he unto his knave anoon, ‘Clepe at his dore, or knokke with a stoon, Loke how it is, and tel me boldely.’
This knave gooth him up ful sturdily, And at the chambre-dore, whyl that he stood, He cryde and knokked as that he were wood:— ‘What! how! what do ye, maister Nicholay? How may ye slepen al the longe day?’	This knave gooth him up ful sturdily, And at the chambre-dore, whyl that he stood, He cryde and knokked as that he were wood:— ‘What! how! what do ye, maister Nicholay? How may ye slepen al the longe day?’
But al for noght, he herde nat a word; An hole he fond, ful lowe upon a bord, Ther as the cat was wont in for to crepe; And at that hole he looked in ful depe, And at the laste he hadde of him a sighte. This Nicholas sat gaping ever up-righte, As he had kyked on the newe mone. Adoun he gooth, and tolde his maister sone In what array he saugh this ilke man.	But al for noght, he herde nat a word; An hole he fond, ful lowe upon a bord, Ther as the cat was wont in for to crepe; And at that hole he looked in ful depe, And at the laste he hadde of him a sighte. This Nicholas sat gaping ever up-righte, As he had kyked on the newe mone. Adoun he gooth, and tolde his maister sone In what array he saugh this ilke man.