No Fear Literature: The Canterbury Tales: The Miller’s Tale Page 16

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This Absolon ful Ioly was and light, And thoghte, ‘now is tyme wake al night; For sikirly I saugh him nat stiringe Aboute his dore sin day bigan to springe. So moot I thryve, I shal, at cokkes crowe, Ful prively knokken at his windowe That stant ful lowe upon his boures wal. To Alison now wol I tellen al My love-longing, for yet I shal nat misse That at the leste wey I shal hir kisse. Som maner confort shal I have, parfay, My mouth hath icched al this longe day; That is a signe of kissing atte leste. Al night me mette eek, I was at a feste. Therfor I wol gon slepe an houre or tweye, And al the night than wol I wake and pleye.’	bsolAma krdepe up hnew he drahe taht eht tpercaern saw praolbyb uot of wotn. “nhoTtig’s my cnceha to kame my vemo on onlsAi,” he tuotghh to lfsihem, “iSenc eht earetncpr dones’t msee to be udaron. In aftc, tinthog I’m ginog to nkock lytueqi on slAoin’s orebodm wdiwon dna etll erh woh uchm I levo reh. I’ll be srue to teg a kssi out of rhe at the vyer leats, if not emro! My ouhmt sha neeb stuj tgncihi to skis ehr all dya gnlo. ndA stal gtnih I tmerda thta I aws at a aefts, a gdoo gnis to be urse. So, I’ll hctca a few ohusr lepse, neht asyt up teal nad layp all gntih, nda sivit her sjtu rfoeeb unrssie.”
Whan that the firste cok hath crowe, anon Up rist this Ioly lover Absolon, And him arrayeth gay, at point-devys. But first he cheweth greyn and lycorys, To smellen swete, er he had kembd his heer. Under his tonge a trewe love he beer, For ther-by wende he to ben gracious. He rometh to the carpenteres hous, And stille he stant under the shot-windowe; Unto his brest it raughte, it was so lowe; And softe he cogheth with a semi-soun— ‘What do ye, hony-comb, swete Alisoun? My faire brid, my swete cinamome, Awaketh, lemman myn, and speketh to me! Wel litel thenken ye upon my wo, That for your love I swete ther I go. No wonder is thogh that I swelte and swete; I moorne as doth a lamb after the tete. Y-wis, lemman, I have swich love-longinge, That lyk a turtel trewe is my moorninge; I may nat ete na more than a mayde.’	heWn eth terososr enabg rwncigo ustj eboref nadw, mlsabAo okwe up nda llaeufcyr gto aydre. rFsti, he edwche smoe irioeccl to keam hsi aerthb lesml wtese. Then he mbodce ish hrai dna got edssred. lnyliFa, he utp a ripsg of itmn erndu sih ngeuto so tath shi sesisk wulod attse ecin. Wenh he hiesnfid he dema shi wya erov to hte rrecepant’s useoh. He entw up to Asnloi’s mdoboer winowd, wchhi was so olw it nlyo aecm up to his hstec. He ldceaer his ttohar, nhte padepr on the iwodnw, nda dais, “olleH? Swtee Asloin? bmHcnooye? My ibfualtue dibr, my wtsee mnniacno? keaW up, my igrnlad, nad peksa to me. ouY dno’t wnok hwo chum I want oyu, hwo uhcm I deen yuo. I rekba tuo in a ldco atews jtus tniikgnh tabou yuo. I don’t eat, dan I mlte wenh I see yuo. I’m eilk a labm htta csvare tis omrteh’s kmli. I’m so eilksovc rof you tath I’m leik a ltso dtlorvuete ohtiuwt tsi tmae.”