Then up he rofe, and foftly groaping round, He found the cradle ftanding on the ground,
Close by the miller's bed; this unespy'd
He took, and fet it by his own bed-fide.
The miller's wife had no more grift to grind,
(Some mills by water move, and fome by wind.)
The proper utenfil not plac'd at hand,
She rofe, by pure neceffity constrain'd.
That grand affair dispatch'd, and feeling round
Her husband's bed; no cradle could be found.
Where am I? Benedicite, the faid !
This is undoubtedly the fcholars bed.
Then turning t'other way, her hand did light los
Full on the cradle,Now, the cry'd, I am right.
Lifting the cloaths, into the bed the leap'd,
And close to John full harmlefly fhe crept :
In a fhort time he takes her in his arms,
And kindly treats her with unufual charms.
She thought (ftrange fancies working in her mind) { Some Saint had made her hufhand over-kind.
Propitious ftars this fortune did beftow
On both, till the third cock began to crow.
Now Allen fancied light would foon appear, He kifs'd the wench, and faid, My Grace, my dear ;.
Thou kindeft of thy fex, the day comes on,
And we must part Alas, will you begon,
She faid, and leave poor harmless me alone?.
If I ftay longer, we are both undone ;
For fhould your father wake and find me here,
What will become of me, and you, my dear?
That dreadful thought (the cries) diftracts my heart;
Too foon you won me, and too foon we part.
Then clinging round his neck, with weeping eyes,,
She fays, Remember me! Allen replies,
I'll quickly find occasion to return;
You shall not long for Allen's absence mourn.
Farewel the cries! But, deareft, one word more ;
You'll find upon a fack behind the door
A cake, and under it a bag of meal :
The flour my father and my self did steal
Out of your fack; but take it, 'tis your own.
Be careful, love, not a word more, begone..
Now Allen foftly feeling for his bed,
By chance his hand laid on the cradle-head,
And shrinking from it, faid (with no small fear)
That rogue the miller, and his wife lie there..
Turning, he finds Sim's Palate, in he crept;:
I'm right, he fays, dull John all night has flept.
Then fhaking him-Wake fwineherd, Allen cries,
I've joyful news-What? grumbling Sim replies.
I am the luckiest Rogue-by this no light,
I have had full employment all the night.
The daughter kindly paid her father's fcore,
All night I have embrac'd her. O the whore !!
O thou false traytor, clerk! thou haft defil'd
Our honeft family, deflower'd our child!
Thy life shall answer it;with that he caught
At Allen's throat; young Allen ftoutly fought.
Both give and take, returning blows with blows;
But Allen ftroke the miller on the nose
With all his force; out flies the streaming gore,
And down it runs.
They tumble on the floor;
lab'ring with equal ftrife:
Sim stumbled backward quite a-cross his wife.
She faft a-fleep, none of this fcuffie heard.
Wak'd by his fall, and heartily afraid;
Help holy cross of Broholme! (O I faint)
Help my good angel! help my patron faint!
The Fiend lies on me like a load of lead!
Remove this devil, this night-mare, or I'm dead !
Then up starts John, and turns 'em from the wife,
Hunts for a cudgel to conclude the ftrife.
Up gets the miller, Allen grafps him close,
Both play at hard-head, strugling to get loose.
Out steps the wife, well knowing where there ftood,
In a by-corner, a tough piece of wood;
On this the feis'd, and by a glimm'ring light
Which enter'd at a chink saw something white.
But, by a foul mistake, 'twas her ill hap
To take his bald pate for the scholar's cap.
She lifts the ftaff, it fell on his bare crown,
Strong was the blow, fhe knock'd her husband down.
OI am flain, the miller loudly cry'd.
Live to be hang'd, thou thief, Allen reply'd."
Away they go, firft take their meal and cake,
Then lay the grift upon their horfe's back.
To Scholar's-hall they march, for now 'twas light,
Pleas'd with the ftrange adventures of the night.
The wife the scholars curses, binds his head,
Then lift him up, and lays him on the bed.
O wife, fays Sim, our daughter is defil'd,
That villain Allen has debauch'd our child.
Mistaken me for John, he told me all ;
Ten thousand furies plague that Scholar's-hall !
O false abusive knave! (the wife reply'd)
In ev'ry word the villain fpake he ly'd.
I wak'd, and heard our harmless child complain;
And rofe, to know the cause, and ease her pain.
I found her torn with gripes, a dram I brought,
And made her take a comfortable draught.
Then lay down by her, chaff'd her fwelling breast,
And lull'd her in thefe very arms to rest.
All was contrivance, malice all and spight,
I have not parted from her all this night.
Then is fhe innocent?
Ay by my life,
as thy bofom wife.
I'm fatisfy'd, fays Sim. O that damn'd Hall!
I'll do the best I can to ftarve 'em all.
And thus the miller of his fear is eas'd,
The mother and the daughter both well pleas'd.
|