
Section 3:
THE REEVE'S TALE.
THE REEVE'S TALE.
THE PROLOGUE. |
WHEN folk had laughed all at this nice case |
Of Absolon and Hendy Nicholas, |
Diverse folk diversely they said, |
But for the more part they laugh'd and play'd;* *were diverted |
And at this tale I saw no man him grieve, |
But it were only Osewold the Reeve. |
Because he was of carpenteres craft, |
A little ire is in his hearte laft*; *left |
He gan to grudge* and blamed it a lite.** *murmur **little. |
"So the* I," quoth he, "full well could I him quite** *thrive **match |
With blearing* of a proude miller's eye, *dimming <1> |
If that me list to speak of ribaldry. |
But I am old; me list not play for age; <2> |
Grass time is done, my fodder is now forage. |
This white top* writeth mine olde years; *head |
Mine heart is also moulded* as mine hairs; *grown mouldy |
And I do fare as doth an open-erse*; *medlar <3> |
That ilke* fruit is ever longer werse, *same |
Till it be rotten *in mullok or in stre*. *on the ground or in straw* |
We olde men, I dread, so fare we; |
Till we be rotten, can we not be ripe; |
We hop* away, while that the world will pipe; *dance |
For in our will there sticketh aye a nail, |
To have an hoary head and a green tail, |
As hath a leek; for though our might be gone, |
Our will desireth folly ever-in-one*: *continually |
For when we may not do, then will we speak, |
Yet in our ashes cold does fire reek.* *smoke<4> |
Four gledes* have we, which I shall devise**, *coals ** describe |
Vaunting, and lying, anger, covetise*. *covetousness |
These foure sparks belongen unto eld. |
Our olde limbes well may be unweld*, *unwieldy |
But will shall never fail us, that is sooth. |
And yet have I alway a coltes tooth,<5> |
As many a year as it is passed and gone |
Since that my tap of life began to run; |
For sickerly*, when I was born, anon *certainly |
Death drew the tap of life, and let it gon: |
And ever since hath so the tap y-run, |
Till that almost all empty is the tun. |
The stream of life now droppeth on the chimb.<6> |
The silly tongue well may ring and chime |
Of wretchedness, that passed is full yore*: *long |
With olde folk, save dotage, is no more. <7> |
When that our Host had heard this sermoning, |
He gan to speak as lordly as a king, |
And said; "To what amounteth all this wit? |
What? shall we speak all day of holy writ? |
The devil made a Reeve for to preach, |
As of a souter* a shipman, or a leach**. *cobbler <8> |
Say forth thy tale, and tarry not the time: **surgeon <9> |
Lo here is Deptford, and 'tis half past prime:<10> |
Lo Greenwich, where many a shrew is in. |
It were high time thy tale to begin." |
"Now, sirs," quoth then this Osewold the Reeve, |
I pray you all that none of you do grieve, |
Though I answer, and somewhat set his hove*, *hood <11> |
For lawful is *force off with force to shove.* *to repel force |
This drunken miller hath y-told us here by force* |
How that beguiled was a carpentere, |
Paraventure* in scorn, for I am one: *perhaps |
And, by your leave, I shall him quite anon. |
Right in his churlish termes will I speak, |
I pray to God his necke might to-break. |
He can well in mine eye see a stalk, |
But in his own he cannot see a balk."<12> |
Notes to the Prologue to the Reeves Tale. |
![]() |
playing off a joke on him. |
2. "Me list not play for age": age takes away my zest for |
drollery. |
3. The medlar, the fruit of the mespilus tree, is only edible when |
rotten. |
4. Yet in our ashes cold does fire reek: "ev'n in our ashes live |
their wonted fires." |
5. A colt's tooth; a wanton humour, a relish for pleasure. |
6. Chimb: The rim of a barrel where the staves project beyond |
the head. |
7. With olde folk, save dotage, is no more: Dotage is all that is |
left them; that is, they can only dwell fondly, dote, on the past. |
8. Souter: cobbler; Scottice, "sutor;"' from Latin, "suere," to |
sew. |
9. "Ex sutore medicus" (a surgeon from a cobbler) and "ex |
sutore nauclerus" (a seaman or pilot from a cobbler) were both |
proverbial expressions in the Middle Ages. |
10. Half past prime: half-way between prime and tierce; about |
half-past seven in the morning. |
11. Set his hove; like "set their caps;" as in the description of |
the Manciple in the Prologue, who "set their aller cap". "Hove" |
or "houfe," means "hood;" and the phrase signifies to be even |
with, outwit. |
12. The illustration of the mote and the beam, from Matthew. |
THE TALE.<1> |
At Trompington, not far from Cantebrig,* *Cambridge |
There goes a brook, and over that a brig, |
Upon the whiche brook there stands a mill: |
And this is *very sooth* that I you tell. *complete truth* |
A miller was there dwelling many a day, |
As any peacock he was proud and gay: |
Pipen he could, and fish, and nettes bete*, *prepare |
And turne cups, and wrestle well, and shete*. *shoot |
Aye by his belt he bare a long pavade*, *poniard |
And of his sword full trenchant was the blade. |
A jolly popper* bare he in his pouch; *dagger |
There was no man for peril durst him touch. |
A Sheffield whittle* bare he in his hose. *small knife |
Round was his face, and camuse* was his nose. *flat <2> |
As pilled* as an ape's was his skull. *peeled, bald. |
He was a market-beter* at the full. *brawler |
There durste no wight hand upon him legge*, *lay |
That he ne swore anon he should abegge*. *suffer the penalty |
A thief he was, for sooth, of corn and meal, |
And that a sly, and used well to steal. |
His name was *hoten deinous Simekin* *called "Disdainful Simkin"* |
A wife he hadde, come of noble kin: |
The parson of the town her father was. |
With her he gave full many a pan of brass, |
For that Simkin should in his blood ally. |
She was y-foster'd in a nunnery: |
For Simkin woulde no wife, as he said, |
But she were well y-nourish'd, and a maid, |
To saven his estate and yeomanry: |
And she was proud, and pert as is a pie*. *magpie |
A full fair sight it was to see them two; |
On holy days before her would he go |
With his tippet* y-bound about his head; *hood |
And she came after in a gite* of red, *gown <3> |
And Simkin hadde hosen of the same. |
There durste no wight call her aught but Dame: |
None was so hardy, walking by that way, |
That with her either durste *rage or play*, *use freedom* |
*But if* he would be slain by Simekin *unless |
With pavade, or with knife, or bodekin. |
For jealous folk be per'lous evermo': |
Algate* they would their wives *wende so*. *unless *so behave* |
And eke for she was somewhat smutterlich*, *dirty |
She was as dign* as water in a ditch, *nasty |
And all so full of hoker*, and bismare**. *ill-nature **abusive speech |
Her thoughte that a lady should her spare*, *not judge her hardly |
What for her kindred, and her nortelrie* *nurturing, education |
That she had learned in the nunnery. |
One daughter hadde they betwixt them two |
Of twenty year, withouten any mo, |
Saving a child that was of half year age, |
In cradle it lay, and was a proper page.* *boy |
This wenche thick and well y-growen was, |
With camuse* nose, and eyen gray as glass; *flat |
With buttocks broad, and breastes round and high; |
But right fair was her hair, I will not lie. |
The parson of the town, for she was fair, |
In purpose was to make of her his heir |
Both of his chattels and his messuage, |
And *strange he made it* of her marriage. *he made it a matter |
His purpose was for to bestow her high of difficulty* |
Into some worthy blood of ancestry. |
For holy Church's good may be dispended* *spent |
On holy Church's blood that is descended. |
Therefore he would his holy blood honour |
Though that he holy Churche should devour. |
Great soken* hath this miller, out of doubt, *toll taken for grinding |
With wheat and malt, of all the land about; |
And namely* there was a great college *especially |
Men call the Soler Hall at Cantebrege,<4> |
There was their wheat and eke their malt y-ground. |
And on a day it happed in a stound*, *suddenly |
Sick lay the manciple* of a malady, *steward <5> |
Men *weened wisly* that he shoulde die. *thought certainly* |
For which this miller stole both meal and corn |
An hundred times more than beforn. |
For theretofore he stole but courteously, |
But now he was a thief outrageously. |
For which the warden chid and made fare*, *fuss |
But thereof *set the miller not a tare*; *he cared not a rush* |
He *crack'd his boast,* and swore it was not so. *talked big* |
Then were there younge poore scholars two, |
That dwelled in the hall of which I say; |
Testif* they were, and lusty for to play; *headstrong <6> |
And only for their mirth and revelry |
Upon the warden busily they cry, |
To give them leave for but a *little stound*, *short time* |
To go to mill, and see their corn y-ground: |
And hardily* they durste lay their neck, *boldly |
The miller should not steal them half a peck |
Of corn by sleight, nor them by force bereave* *take away |
And at the last the warden give them leave: |
John hight the one, and Alein hight the other, |
Of one town were they born, that highte Strother,<7> |
Far in the North, I cannot tell you where. |
This Alein he made ready all his gear, |
And on a horse the sack he cast anon: |
Forth went Alein the clerk, and also John, |
With good sword and with buckler by their side. |
John knew the way, him needed not no guide, |
And at the mill the sack adown he lay'th. |
Alein spake first; "All hail, Simon, in faith, |
How fares thy faire daughter, and thy wife." |
"Alein, welcome," quoth Simkin, "by my life, |
And John also: how now, what do ye here?" |
"By God, Simon," quoth John, "need has no peer*. *equal |
Him serve himself behoves that has no swain*, *servant |
Or else he is a fool, as clerkes sayn. |
Our manciple I hope* he will be dead, *expect |
So workes aye the wanges* in his head: *cheek-teeth <8> |
And therefore is I come, and eke Alein, |
To grind our corn and carry it home again: |
I pray you speed us hence as well ye may." |
"It shall be done," quoth Simkin, "by my fay. |
What will ye do while that it is in hand?" |
"By God, right by the hopper will I stand," |
Quoth John, "and see how that the corn goes in. |
Yet saw I never, by my father's kin, |
How that the hopper wagges to and fro." |
Alein answered, "John, and wilt thou so? |
Then will I be beneathe, by my crown, |
And see how that the meale falls adown |
Into the trough, that shall be my disport*: *amusement |
For, John, in faith I may be of your sort; |
I is as ill a miller as is ye." |
This miller smiled at their nicety*, *simplicity |
And thought, "All this is done but for a wile. |
They weenen* that no man may them beguile, *think |
But by my thrift yet shall I blear their eye,<9> |
For all the sleight in their philosophy. |
The more *quainte knackes* that they make, *odd little tricks* |
The more will I steal when that I take. |
Instead of flour yet will I give them bren*. *bran |
The greatest clerks are not the wisest men, |
As whilom to the wolf thus spake the mare: <10> |
Of all their art ne count I not a tare." |
Out at the door he went full privily, |
When that he saw his time, softely. |
He looked up and down, until he found |
The clerkes' horse, there as he stood y-bound |
Behind the mill, under a levesell:* *arbour<11> |
And to the horse he went him fair and well, |
And stripped off the bridle right anon. |
And when the horse was loose, he gan to gon |
Toward the fen, where wilde mares run, |
Forth, with "Wehee!" through thick and eke through thin. |
This miller went again, no word he said, |
But did his note*, and with these clerkes play'd, *business <12> |
Till that their corn was fair and well y-ground. |
And when the meal was sacked and y-bound, |
Then John went out, and found his horse away, |
And gan to cry, "Harow, and well-away! |
Our horse is lost: Alein, for Godde's bones, |
Step on thy feet; come off, man, all at once: |
Alas! our warden has his palfrey lorn.*" *lost |
This Alein all forgot, both meal and corn; |
All was out of his mind his husbandry*. *careful watch over |
"What, which way is he gone?" he gan to cry. the corn* |
The wife came leaping inward at a renne*, *run |
She said; "Alas! your horse went to the fen |
With wilde mares, as fast as he could go. |
Unthank* come on his hand that bound him so *ill luck, a curse |
And his that better should have knit the rein." |
"Alas!" quoth John, "Alein, for Christes pain |
Lay down thy sword, and I shall mine also. |
I is full wight*, God wate**, as is a roe. *swift **knows |
By Godde's soul he shall not scape us bathe*. *both <13> |
Why n' had thou put the capel* in the lathe**? *horse<14> **barn |
Ill hail, Alein, by God thou is a fonne.*" *fool |
These silly clerkes have full fast y-run |
Toward the fen, both Alein and eke John; |
And when the miller saw that they were gone, |
He half a bushel of their flour did take, |
And bade his wife go knead it in a cake. |
He said; I trow, the clerkes were afeard, |
Yet can a miller *make a clerkes beard,* *cheat a scholar* <15> |
For all his art: yea, let them go their way! |
Lo where they go! yea, let the children play: |
They get him not so lightly, by my crown." |
These silly clerkes runnen up and down |
With "Keep, keep; stand, stand; jossa*, warderere. *turn |
Go whistle thou, and I shall keep* him here." *catch |
But shortly, till that it was very night |
They coulde not, though they did all their might, |
Their capel catch, he ran alway so fast: |
Till in a ditch they caught him at the last. |
Weary and wet, as beastes in the rain, |
Comes silly John, and with him comes Alein. |
"Alas," quoth John, "the day that I was born! |
Now are we driv'n till hething* and till scorn. *mockery |
Our corn is stol'n, men will us fonnes* call, *fools |
Both the warden, and eke our fellows all, |
And namely* the miller, well-away!" *especially |
Thus plained John, as he went by the way |
Toward the mill, and Bayard* in his hand. *the bay horse |
The miller sitting by the fire he fand*. *found |
For it was night, and forther* might they not, *go their way |
But for the love of God they him besought |
Of herberow* and ease, for their penny. *lodging |
The miller said again," If there be any, |
Such as it is, yet shall ye have your part. |
Mine house is strait, but ye have learned art; |
Ye can by arguments maken a place |
A mile broad, of twenty foot of space. |
Let see now if this place may suffice, |
Or make it room with speech, as is your guise.*" *fashion |
"Now, Simon," said this John, "by Saint Cuthberd |
Aye is thou merry, and that is fair answer'd. |
I have heard say, man shall take of two things, |
Such as he findes, or such as he brings. |
But specially I pray thee, hoste dear, |
Gar <16> us have meat and drink, and make us cheer, |
And we shall pay thee truly at the full: |
With empty hand men may not hawkes tull*. *allure |
Lo here our silver ready for to spend." |
This miller to the town his daughter send |
For ale and bread, and roasted them a goose, |
And bound their horse, he should no more go loose: |
And them in his own chamber made a bed. |
With sheetes and with chalons* fair y-spread, *blankets<17> |
Not from his owen bed ten foot or twelve: |
His daughter had a bed all by herselve, |
Right in the same chamber *by and by*: *side by side* |
It might no better be, and cause why, |
There was no *roomer herberow* in the place. *roomier lodging* |
They suppen, and they speaken of solace, |
And drinken ever strong ale at the best. |
Aboute midnight went they all to rest. |
Well had this miller varnished his head; |
Full pale he was, fordrunken, and *nought red*. *without his wits* |
He yoxed*, and he spake thorough the nose, *hiccuped |
As he were in the quakke*, or in the pose**. *grunting **catarrh |
To bed he went, and with him went his wife, |
As any jay she light was and jolife,* *jolly |
So was her jolly whistle well y-wet. |
The cradle at her beddes feet was set, |
To rock, and eke to give the child to suck. |
And when that drunken was all in the crock* *pitcher<18> |
To bedde went the daughter right anon, |
To bedde went Alein, and also John. |
There was no more; needed them no dwale.<19> |
This miller had, so wisly* bibbed ale, *certainly |
That as a horse he snorted in his sleep, |
Nor of his tail behind he took no keep*. *heed |
His wife bare him a burdoun*, a full strong; *bass <20> |
Men might their routing* hearen a furlong. *snoring |
The wenche routed eke for company. |
Alein the clerk, that heard this melody, |
He poked John, and saide: "Sleepest thou? |
Heardest thou ever such a song ere now? |
Lo what a compline<21> is y-mell* them all. *among |
A wilde fire upon their bodies fall, |
Who hearken'd ever such a ferly* thing? *strange <22> |
Yea, they shall have the flow'r of ill ending! |
This longe night there *tides me* no rest. *comes to me* |
But yet no force*, all shall be for the best. *matter |
For, John," said he, "as ever may I thrive, |
If that I may, yon wenche will I swive*. *enjoy carnally |
Some easement* has law y-shapen** us *satisfaction **provided |
For, John, there is a law that sayeth thus, |
That if a man in one point be aggriev'd, |
That in another he shall be relievd. |
Our corn is stol'n, soothly it is no nay, |
And we have had an evil fit to-day. |
And since I shall have none amendement |
Against my loss, I will have easement: |
By Godde's soul, it shall none, other be." |
This John answer'd; Alein, *avise thee*: *have a care* |
The miller is a perilous man," he said, |
"And if that he out of his sleep abraid*, *awaked |
He mighte do us both a villainy*." *mischief |
Alein answer'd; "I count him not a fly. |
And up he rose, and by the wench he crept. |
This wenche lay upright, and fast she slept, |
Till he so nigh was, ere she might espy, |
That it had been too late for to cry: |
And, shortly for to say, they were at one. |
Now play, Alein, for I will speak of John. |
This John lay still a furlong way <23> or two, |
And to himself he made ruth* and woe. *wail |
"Alas!" quoth he, "this is a wicked jape*; *trick |
Now may I say, that I is but an ape. |
Yet has my fellow somewhat for his harm; |
He has the miller's daughter in his arm: |
He auntred* him, and hath his needes sped, *adventured |
And I lie as a draff-sack in my bed; |
And when this jape is told another day, |
I shall be held a daffe* or a cockenay <24> *coward |
I will arise, and auntre* it, by my fay: *attempt |
Unhardy is unsely, <25> as men say." |
And up he rose, and softely he went |
Unto the cradle, and in his hand it hent*, *took |
And bare it soft unto his beddes feet. |
Soon after this the wife *her routing lete*, *stopped snoring* |
And gan awake, and went her out to piss |
And came again and gan the cradle miss |
And groped here and there, but she found none. |
"Alas!" quoth she, "I had almost misgone |
I had almost gone to the clerkes' bed. |
Ey! Benedicite, then had I foul y-sped." |
And forth she went, till she the cradle fand. |
She groped alway farther with her hand |
And found the bed, and *thoughte not but good* *had no suspicion* |
Because that the cradle by it stood, |
And wist not where she was, for it was derk; |
But fair and well she crept in by the clerk, |
And lay full still, and would have caught a sleep. |
Within a while this John the Clerk up leap |
And on this goode wife laid on full sore; |
So merry a fit had she not had *full yore*. *for a long time* |
He pricked hard and deep, as he were mad. |
This jolly life have these two clerkes had, |
Till that the thirde cock began to sing. |
Alein wax'd weary in the morrowing, |
For he had swonken* all the longe night, *laboured |
And saide; "Farewell, Malkin, my sweet wight. |
The day is come, I may no longer bide, |
But evermore, where so I go or ride, |
I is thine owen clerk, so have I hele.*" *health |
"Now, deare leman*," quoth she, "go, fare wele: *sweetheart |
But ere thou go, one thing I will thee tell. |
When that thou wendest homeward by the mill, |
Right at the entry of the door behind |
Thou shalt a cake of half a bushel find, |
That was y-maked of thine owen meal, |
Which that I help'd my father for to steal. |
And goode leman, God thee save and keep." |
And with that word she gan almost to weep. |
Alein uprose and thought, "Ere the day daw |
I will go creepen in by my fellaw:" |
And found the cradle with his hand anon. |
"By God!" thought he, "all wrong I have misgone: |
My head is *totty of my swink* to-night, *giddy from my labour* |
That maketh me that I go not aright. |
I wot well by the cradle I have misgo'; |
Here lie the miller and his wife also." |
And forth he went a twenty devil way |
Unto the bed, there as the miller lay. |
He ween'd* t' have creeped by his fellow John, *thought |
And by the miller in he crept anon, |
And caught him by the neck, and gan him shake, |
And said; "Thou John, thou swines-head, awake |
For Christes soul, and hear a noble game! |
For by that lord that called is Saint Jame, |
As I have thries in this shorte night |
Swived the miller's daughter bolt-upright, |
While thou hast as a coward lain aghast*." *afraid |
"Thou false harlot," quoth the miller, "hast? |
Ah, false traitor, false clerk," quoth he, |
"Thou shalt be dead, by Godde's dignity, |
Who durste be so bold to disparage* *disgrace |
My daughter, that is come of such lineage?" |
And by the throate-ball* he caught Alein, *Adam's apple |
And he him hent* dispiteously** again, *seized **angrily |
And on the nose he smote him with his fist; |
Down ran the bloody stream upon his breast: |
And in the floor with nose and mouth all broke |
They wallow, as do two pigs in a poke. |
And up they go, and down again anon, |
Till that the miller spurned* on a stone, *stumbled |
And down he backward fell upon his wife, |
That wiste nothing of this nice strife: |
For she was fall'n asleep a little wight* *while |
With John the clerk, that waked had all night: |
And with the fall out of her sleep she braid*. *woke |
"Help, holy cross of Bromeholm," <26> she said; |
"In manus tuas! <27> Lord, to thee I call. |
Awake, Simon, the fiend is on me fall; |
Mine heart is broken; help; I am but dead: |
There li'th one on my womb and on mine head. |
Help, Simkin, for these false clerks do fight" |
This John start up as fast as e'er he might, |
And groped by the walles to and fro |
To find a staff; and she start up also, |
And knew the estres* better than this John, *apartment |
And by the wall she took a staff anon: |
And saw a little shimmering of a light, |
For at an hole in shone the moone bright, |
And by that light she saw them both the two, |
But sickerly* she wist not who was who, *certainly |
But as she saw a white thing in her eye. |
And when she gan this white thing espy, |
She ween'd* the clerk had wear'd a volupere**; *supposed **night-cap |
And with the staff she drew aye nere* and nere*, *nearer |
And ween'd to have hit this Alein at the full, |
And smote the miller on the pilled* skull; *bald |
That down he went, and cried," Harow! I die." |
These clerkes beat him well, and let him lie, |
And greithen* them, and take their horse anon, *make ready, dress |
And eke their meal, and on their way they gon: |
And at the mill door eke they took their cake |
Of half a bushel flour, full well y-bake. |
Thus is the proude miller well y-beat, |
And hath y-lost the grinding of the wheat; |
And payed for the supper *every deal* *every bit |
Of Alein and of John, that beat him well; |
His wife is swived, and his daughter als*; *also |
Lo, such it is a miller to be false. |
And therefore this proverb is said full sooth, |
"*Him thar not winnen well* that evil do'th, *he deserves not to gain* |
A guiler shall himself beguiled be:" |
And God that sitteth high in majesty |
Save all this Company, both great and smale. |
Thus have I quit* the Miller in my tale. *made myself quits with |
Notes to the Reeve's Tale |
1. The incidents of this tale were much relished in the Middle |
Ages, and are found under various forms. Boccaccio has told |
them in the ninth day of his "Decameron". |
2. Camuse: flat; French "camuse", snub-nosed. |
3. Gite: gown or coat; French "jupe." |
4. Soler Hall: the hall or college at Cambridge with the gallery |
or upper storey; supposed to have been Clare Hall. |
(Transcribers note: later commentators identify it with King's |
Hall, now merged with Trinity College) |
5. Manciple: steward; provisioner of the hall. See also note 47 |
to the prologue to the Tales. |
6. Testif: headstrong, wild-brained; French, "entete." |
7. Strother: Tyrwhitt points to Anstruther, in Fife: Mr Wright |
to the Vale of Langstroth, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. |
Chaucer has given the scholars a dialect that may have belonged |
to either district, although it more immediately suggests the |
more northern of the two. |
(Transcribers note: later commentators have identified it with a |
now vanished village near Kirknewton in Northumberland. |
There was a well-known Alein of Strother in Chaucer's |
lifetime.) |
8. Wanges: grinders, cheek-teeth; Anglo-Saxon, "Wang," the |
cheek; German, "Wange." |
9. See note 1 to the Prologue to the Reeves Tale |
10. In the "Cento Novelle Antiche," the story is told of a mule, |
which pretends that his name is written on the bottom of his |
hind foot. The wolf attempts to read it, the mule kills him with a |
kick in the forehead; and the fox, looking on, remarks that |
"every man of letters is not wise." A similar story is told in |
"Reynard the Fox." |
11. Levesell: an arbour; Anglo-Saxon, "lefe-setl," leafy seat. |
12. Noth: business; German, "Noth," necessity. |
13. Bathe: both; Scottice, "baith." |
14. Capel: horse; Gaelic, "capall;" French, "cheval;" Italian, |
"cavallo," from Latin, "caballus." |
15. Make a clerkes beard: cheat a scholar; French, "faire la |
barbe;" and Boccaccio uses the proverb in the same sense. |
16. "Gar" is Scotch for "cause;" some editions read, however, |
"get us some". |
17. Chalons: blankets, coverlets, made at Chalons in France. |
18. Crock: pitcher, cruse; Anglo-Saxon, "crocca;" German, |
"krug;" hence "crockery." |
19. Dwale: night-shade, Solanum somniferum, given to cause |
sleep. |
20. Burdoun: bass; "burden" of a song. It originally means the |
drone of a bagpipe; French, "bourdon." |
21. Compline: even-song in the church service; chorus. |
22. Ferly: strange. In Scotland, a "ferlie" is an unwonted or |
remarkable sight. |
23. A furlong way: As long as it might take to walk a furlong. |
24. Cockenay: a term of contempt, probably borrowed from the |
kitchen; a cook, in base Latin, being termed "coquinarius." |
compare French "coquin," rascal. |
25. Unhardy is unsely: the cowardly is unlucky; "nothing |
venture, nothing have;" German, "unselig," unhappy. |
26. Holy cross of Bromeholm: A common adjuration at that |
time; the cross or rood of the priory of Bromholm, in Norfolk, |
was said to contain part of the real cross and therefore held in |
high esteem. |
27. In manus tuas: Latin, "in your hands". |