No Fear Literature: The Canterbury Tales: The Miller’s Tale Page 1

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Original Text	Modern Text
HERE BIGINNETH THE MILLERE HIS TALE.	ETH ILRMLE’S LAET RTSSTA HEER.
Whylom ther was dwellinge at Oxenford A riche gnof, that gestes heeld to bord, And of his craft he was a Carpenter. With him ther was dwellinge a povre scoler, Had lerned art, but al his fantasye Was turned for to lerne astrologye, And coude a certeyn of conclusiouns To demen by interrogaciouns, If that men axed him in certein houres, Whan that men sholde have droghte or elles shoures, Or if men axed him what sholde bifalle Of every thing, I may nat rekene hem alle.	cnOe ponu a mtei, heret asw a lwatyeh tbu ohfsia rartcenep adnme nhoJ owh wndoe a seuoh in teh ontw of rfxdoO. A opor gyuno sttdune oahiNcls idlve thwi mhi dna wsa grninte eno of eht etymp rsoom. hTis etstndu ahd rayalde iisnhdef mose of ish lebrail astr srscuoe ubt was tyrlinee ensoumcd by sih osnaips fro geanirnl torayoslg. He nwke how to eluaalcct hcihw cuores of aionct to ktae if yuo dseak ihm if it eerw giogn to anir or iehsn, or if ouy easkd autbo het feurtu in all tsrso of srteamt. I odluc go on nda on, but yuo gte the eaid.
This clerk was cleped hende Nicholtas; Of derne love he coude and of solas; And ther-to be was sleigh and ful privee, And lyk a mayden meke for to see. A chambre hadde he in that hostelrye Allone, with-outen any companye, Ful fetisly y-dight with herbes swote; And he him-self as swete as is the rote Of licorys, or any cetewale. His Almageste and bokes grete and smale, His astrelabie, longinge for his art, His augrim-stones layen faire a-part On shelves couched at his beddes heed: His presse y-covered with a falding reed. And al above ther lay a gay sautrye, On which he made a nightes melodye So swetely, that al the chambre rong; And Angelus ad virginem he song; And after that he song the kinges note; Ful often blessed was his mery throte. And thus this swete clerk his tyme spente After his freendes finding and his rente.	woN, tshi nusetdt tnwe by eht aecmnink Tikrcy kyNic eecuabs he aws pyertt lcvere dan eknw all bauto veol nad lueasrep adn ewtse kalt. He asw ttpeyr ytacfr nda reyv uoiasctu tub ooldek as eitnnnoc as a ittlle lrgi. He levdi in a moor by imhfels, hihwc he etkp ante nad elanc. He even deus trupipor to peke it mlgsenil frseh. He ktep ish asoyotrgl obsko, btelaoras, dna cgoiunnt tnesso—lla lurcica nusrentismt rfo aotsosrrgle—on osem lvhesse xtne to eth eahd of shi ebd. A ecpei of rde hclot cereovd ish shetclo cthse, and on tpo of atth he etkp hsi gturia, hiwhc he etfon dalype tflauibuyel in het envegins. He ledki to ylpa teh hlyo gosn “Angelus ad Virginem” eolwfodl by a ogns ldlace “Teh Kgni’s Tneu.” opPlee ldevo to aerh teh donus of ihs eicov buseace he nsga so lelw. And hatt’s ohw ihlaNosc petsn ish emit, tngeitg by and nkgima dsne mete iwht a lttile lfaniinac hple rmfo his dnrfise.

Original Text	Modern Text
HERE BIGINNETH THE MILLERE HIS TALE.	ETH ILRMLE’S LAET RTSSTA HEER.
Whylom ther was dwellinge at Oxenford A riche gnof, that gestes heeld to bord, And of his craft he was a Carpenter. With him ther was dwellinge a povre scoler, Had lerned art, but al his fantasye Was turned for to lerne astrologye, And coude a certeyn of conclusiouns To demen by interrogaciouns, If that men axed him in certein houres, Whan that men sholde have droghte or elles shoures, Or if men axed him what sholde bifalle Of every thing, I may nat rekene hem alle.	cnOe ponu a mtei, heret asw a lwatyeh tbu ohfsia rartcenep adnme nhoJ owh wndoe a seuoh in teh ontw of rfxdoO. A opor gyuno sttdune oahiNcls idlve thwi mhi dna wsa grninte eno of eht etymp rsoom. hTis etstndu ahd rayalde iisnhdef mose of ish lebrail astr srscuoe ubt was tyrlinee ensoumcd by sih osnaips fro geanirnl torayoslg. He nwke how to eluaalcct hcihw cuores of aionct to ktae if yuo dseak ihm if it eerw giogn to anir or iehsn, or if ouy easkd autbo het feurtu in all tsrso of srteamt. I odluc go on nda on, but yuo gte the eaid.
This clerk was cleped hende Nicholtas; Of derne love he coude and of solas; And ther-to be was sleigh and ful privee, And lyk a mayden meke for to see. A chambre hadde he in that hostelrye Allone, with-outen any companye, Ful fetisly y-dight with herbes swote; And he him-self as swete as is the rote Of licorys, or any cetewale. His Almageste and bokes grete and smale, His astrelabie, longinge for his art, His augrim-stones layen faire a-part On shelves couched at his beddes heed: His presse y-covered with a falding reed. And al above ther lay a gay sautrye, On which he made a nightes melodye So swetely, that al the chambre rong; And Angelus ad virginem he song; And after that he song the kinges note; Ful often blessed was his mery throte. And thus this swete clerk his tyme spente After his freendes finding and his rente.	woN, tshi nusetdt tnwe by eht aecmnink Tikrcy kyNic eecuabs he aws pyertt lcvere dan eknw all bauto veol nad lueasrep adn ewtse kalt. He asw ttpeyr ytacfr nda reyv uoiasctu tub ooldek as eitnnnoc as a ittlle lrgi. He levdi in a moor by imhfels, hihwc he etkp ante nad elanc. He even deus trupipor to peke it mlgsenil frseh. He ktep ish asoyotrgl obsko, btelaoras, dna cgoiunnt tnesso—lla lurcica nusrentismt rfo aotsosrrgle—on osem lvhesse xtne to eth eahd of shi ebd. A ecpei of rde hclot cereovd ish shetclo cthse, and on tpo of atth he etkp hsi gturia, hiwhc he etfon dalype tflauibuyel in het envegins. He ledki to ylpa teh hlyo gosn “Angelus ad Virginem” eolwfodl by a ogns ldlace “Teh Kgni’s Tneu.” opPlee ldevo to aerh teh donus of ihs eicov buseace he nsga so lelw. And hatt’s ohw ihlaNosc petsn ish emit, tngeitg by and nkgima dsne mete iwht a lttile lfaniinac hple rmfo his dnrfise.