The grettest clerkes been noght the wisest men As whilom to the wolf thus spak the mare From Mc And þen he goþ vnto the mareOf al hir art counte I noght a tare Out of the dore he gooth ful pryuely Whan that he saugh his tyme softely He looketh vp and doun til he hath founde The clerkes hors ther as it stood ybounde Bihynde the Mille vnder a leefsel And to the hors he gooth hym faire and wel He strepeth of the bridel right anon And whan the hors was laus he gynneth gon Toward the fen ther wilde mares renne And forth with wehe thurgh thikke and thenne This Millere gooth ayein no word he seyde But dooth his note and with the clerkes pleyde Til that hir corn was faire and wel ygrounde And whan the mele was sakked and ybounde This Iohn gooth out and fynt his hors away And gan to crye harrow and weilaway Oure hors is lost. Alayn for goddes banes Step on thy feet com of man al atanes Allas oure wardeyn has his palfrey lorn This Alayn al forgat bothe mele and corn Al was out of his mynde his housbondrye What whilk wey is he gane he gan to crye The wyf cam lepyng Inward with a ren She seyde allas youre hors gooth to the fen With wilde mares as faste as he may go Vnthank come on his hand that boond hym so And he that bettre sholde haue knyt the reyne