aver. Our Manciple, I think, will soon be dead, Sae slowly work the grinders in his head; And therefore am I come with Allen thus, To grind our corn, and carry it hame with us: I pray you speed us, that we may be gone.”

Quoth Simkin, “By my faith it shall be done; What will ye do while that it is in hand?”  “Gude’s life! right by the hopper will I stand,” (Quoth John), “and see how that the corn goes in. I never yet saw, by my father’s kin, How that the hopper waggles to and fro.”

Allen continued,—“John, and wilt thou so? Then will I be beneath it, by my crown, And see how that the meal comes running down Into the trough—and that shall be my sport. For, John, like you, I’m of the curious sort; And quite as bad a miller—so let’s see!”

This Miller smiled at their ’cute nicety, And thought,—all this is done but for a wile; They fancy that no man can them beguile: But, by my thrift, I’ll dust their searching eye, For all the sleights in their philosophy. The more quaint knacks and guarded plans they make, The more corn will I steal when once I take: Instead of flour, I’ll leave them nought but bran: The greatest clerks are not the wisest men. As whilom to the wolf thus spake the mare: Of all their art I do not count a tare.

Out at the door he goeth full privily, When that he saw his time, and noiselessly: He looketh up and down, till he hath found The clerks’ bay horse, where he was standing bound Under an ivy wall, behind the mill: And to the horse he goeth him fair and well, And strippeth off the bridle in a trice.

And when the horse was loose he ’gan to race Unto the wild mares wandering in the fen, With wehee! whinny! right through thick and thin! This Miller then returned; no word he said, But doth his work, and with these clerks he played, Till that their corn was well and fairly ground. And when the meal is sacked and safely bound John goeth out, and found his horse was gone, And cried aloud with many a stamp and groan, “Our horse is lost! Allen, ’od’s banes! I say, Up on thy feet!—come off, man—up, away! Alas! our Warden’s palfrey, it is gone!”

Allen at once forgot both meal and corn— Out of his mind went all his husbandry— “What! whilk way is he gone?” he ’gan to cry.

The Miller’s wife came laughing inwardly, “Alas!” said she, “your horse i’ the fens doth fly After wild mares as fast as he can go! Ill-luck betide the man that bound him so, And his that better should have knit the rein.”

“Alas!” quoth 

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