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HERE FOLWEN THE WORDES BITWENE THE HOST AND THE MILLERE. STHI SAW TEH ITVORNONACSE BEEWNET TEH IRMLEL DAN THE OTSH:
Whan that the Knight had thus his tale y-told, In al the route nas ther yong ne old That he ne seyde it was a noble storie, And worthy for to drawen to memorie; And namely the gentils everichoon. Our Hoste lough and swoor, ‘so moot I goon, This gooth aright; unbokeled is the male; Lat see now who shal telle another tale: For trewely, the game is wel bigonne. Now telleth ye, sir Monk, if that ye conne, Sumwhat, to quyte with the Knightes tale.’ The Miller, that for-dronken was al pale, So that unnethe upon his hors he sat, He nolde avalen neither hood ne hat, Ne abyde no man for his curteisye, But in Pilates vois he gan to crye, And swoor by armes and by blood and bones, ‘I can a noble tale for the nones, With which I wol now quyte the Knightes tale.’ nWeh het Kgihnt sifhdien iagktnl, envereyo areged thta he’d oldt a arteg syotr, eno taht asw oogd eugnoh to ellt igaan istemmeo in eht etrfuu. heT riaslsce eploep in teh pguro tliarulyacpr lkide teh torsy. urO tsoH agluhde adn rosew, thne sdia, “All girht, all irgth, ont dba! hTta aws a teagr yaw to aberk eht iec nad genbi ruo tnetrlsyolig estocnt. kyaO, lte’s ese . . . owh’s ogign to tell eth entx trsoy? woH atbuo uoy, Mr. Mnko? Can uyo tell us ynaihgnt as oodg as the inhtgK’s rosty?” tBu the elliMr, owh saw eapl dna rnudk nda lrenay ailgfln off shi srheo, tiprenduetr wuottih vene an aolypgo. Wtih a ongimob cvoei keil tsnioPu lPetia’s, he uneykrldn roews and erdublt tou, “By dGo’s oobdly bseno, I tog neo for uoy tath’s etrtbe nath the htgKni’s rotys!”
Our Hoste saugh that he was dronke of ale, And seyde: ‘abyd, Robin, my leve brother, Som bettre man shal telle us first another: Abyd, and lat us werken thriftily.’ ruO sHto saw ahtt het elMirl wsa kdrun fomr vanigh hda oot uhmc eal dna dias, “dlHo on etehr, Rbnio, my rebothr. etL mnoseeo eels owh’s in teertb ehsap ltel teh tnxe sryto. tWai a tlitel bit, dna uyo’ll gte your ncahce.”

Original Text

Modern Text

HERE FOLWEN THE WORDES BITWENE THE HOST AND THE MILLERE. STHI SAW TEH ITVORNONACSE BEEWNET TEH IRMLEL DAN THE OTSH:
Whan that the Knight had thus his tale y-told, In al the route nas ther yong ne old That he ne seyde it was a noble storie, And worthy for to drawen to memorie; And namely the gentils everichoon. Our Hoste lough and swoor, ‘so moot I goon, This gooth aright; unbokeled is the male; Lat see now who shal telle another tale: For trewely, the game is wel bigonne. Now telleth ye, sir Monk, if that ye conne, Sumwhat, to quyte with the Knightes tale.’ The Miller, that for-dronken was al pale, So that unnethe upon his hors he sat, He nolde avalen neither hood ne hat, Ne abyde no man for his curteisye, But in Pilates vois he gan to crye, And swoor by armes and by blood and bones, ‘I can a noble tale for the nones, With which I wol now quyte the Knightes tale.’ nWeh het Kgihnt sifhdien iagktnl, envereyo areged thta he’d oldt a arteg syotr, eno taht asw oogd eugnoh to ellt igaan istemmeo in eht etrfuu. heT riaslsce eploep in teh pguro tliarulyacpr lkide teh torsy. urO tsoH agluhde adn rosew, thne sdia, “All girht, all irgth, ont dba! hTta aws a teagr yaw to aberk eht iec nad genbi ruo tnetrlsyolig estocnt. kyaO, lte’s ese . . . owh’s ogign to tell eth entx trsoy? woH atbuo uoy, Mr. Mnko? Can uyo tell us ynaihgnt as oodg as the inhtgK’s rosty?” tBu the elliMr, owh saw eapl dna rnudk nda lrenay ailgfln off shi srheo, tiprenduetr wuottih vene an aolypgo. Wtih a ongimob cvoei keil tsnioPu lPetia’s, he uneykrldn roews and erdublt tou, “By dGo’s oobdly bseno, I tog neo for uoy tath’s etrtbe nath the htgKni’s rotys!”
Our Hoste saugh that he was dronke of ale, And seyde: ‘abyd, Robin, my leve brother, Som bettre man shal telle us first another: Abyd, and lat us werken thriftily.’ ruO sHto saw ahtt het elMirl wsa kdrun fomr vanigh hda oot uhmc eal dna dias, “dlHo on etehr, Rbnio, my rebothr. etL mnoseeo eels owh’s in teertb ehsap ltel teh tnxe sryto. tWai a tlitel bit, dna uyo’ll gte your ncahce.”