And eủery wight gan laughen at this stryf
Thus swyued / was the Carpenters wyf
For al his kepyng and his Ialousye
And Absolon / hath kist hir nether Iye
And Nicholas / is scalded in the toute
This tale is doon / and god saue al the route¶ Here is ended / the Millerys tale
¶ The ꝓprologe / of the Reues tale
Whan folk hadde laughen / at this nyce cas
Of Absolon / and hende Nicholas
Diủerse folk / diuersely they seyde
But for the moore part they lowe and pleyde
Ne at his tale I seigh no man hym greue
But it were oonly / Osewold the Reue
By cause he was / of Carpenters craft
A litel Ire / is in his herte ylaft
He gan to grucche / and blamed it a lite
So the ik quod he / ful wel koude I thee quyte
With bleryng of a proud Millerys Iye
If þᵗat me liste / speke of rybaudye
But ik am oold / me list no pleye for age
Gras tyme is doon / my fodder is now forage
This white top̄pe / writeth myne olde yerys
Myn herte / is also mowled / as myne herys
But if ik fare / as dooth an Openers
That ilke fruyt is euer lenger the wers
Til it be roten / in Mollok / or in stree
We olde men / I drede so fare we
Til we be roten / kan we noght be rype
We hoppe alwey / whil þᵗat the world wol pipe
For in oure wil / ther stiketh ever a nayl
To haue an hoor heer / and a grene tayl
As hath a leek / for thogh oure myght be goon
Oure wil desireth folie / euere in oon
For whan we may noght doon / than wol we speke
Yet in oure asshen olde / is fyr yreke