He seyde thou Iohn thow swyneshed awak For cristes saule and here a noble game For by that lord that called is Seint Iame As I haue thries in this shorte nyght Swyued the Milleris doghter bolt vp right Whil thow hast as a coward been agast Ye false harlot quod the Millere hast From Cx1 Ye false harlot hast thou so hast A false traytour false clerk quod he Thou shalt be deed by goddes dignytee Who dorste be so bold to disparage My doghter that is come of swich lynage And by the throte bolle he caughte Alayn And he hente hym despitously agayn And on the nose he smoot hym with his fest Doun ran the blody streem vp on his brest And in the floor with nose and mouth tobroke They walwen as doon two pigges in a poke And vp they goon and doun agayn anoon Til that the Millere sporned at a stoon And doun he fil bakward vp on his wyf That wiste no thyng of this nyce stryf For she was falle aslepe alitel wight With Iohn the clerk that waked hadde al nyght And with the fal out of hir sleep she brayde Help holy cros of Bromholm she sayde In manus tuas lord to thee I calle Awake Symond the feend is on me falle Myn herte is broken help I nam but ded Ther lyth oon vp on my wombe and on myn hed