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Til he so nigh was, er she might espie,

That it had ben to late for to crie:

And shortly for to say, they were at on. 4195

Now play Alein, for 1 wol speke of John.

This John lithstill a furlong way or two,
And to himself he maketh routh and wo.
Alas! (quod he) this is a wicked jape;
Now may I fay that I is but an ape. 4 JOO

Vet has my felaw somwhat for his harme;
He has the millers doughter in his arme:
He auntred him, and hath his nedes spedde,
And 1 lie as a draf sak in my bedde;
And whan this jape is tald another day 4*05

I flial be h'alden a daffe or a cokenay:

■$•. 4lo5. a colenayl That this is a term of contempt, borrowed originally from the kitchen, is very probable. A cook, in the bate Latinity, was called coquinator and coquinariut, from either of which coienay might easily be derived. In P. P. sol. IS, b.;

And yet I fay by my stiulc I have no salt hacon,
Ne no cvktnev by Chriltc coloppeB to make.

It seems to signify a cook. And so, perhaps, inTheTurnament of Tottenham, Anc. Poet. t. ii. p. 14;

At that feast were they served in rich array i

Every five and five had a cokeney.

That is, I suppose, a cook or scullion, to attend them. In

those rhymes ascribed to Hugh Bigot which Camden has published, Brit. Col. 451, (upon what authority I know not)

Were 1 in my callle of Bungey

Upun the river us Waveney,

I would nc care for the King of Cichenty.

The author, in calling London Cockcney, might possibly allude to that imaginary country of idleness and luxury which was anciently known by the name of Cokxigne or Cocngne, a name which Uickes has shewn to be derived froin coquir.a,

I wol arise and auntre it by my fay:
Unhardy is unsely, thus men fay.

And up he rose, and foftely he went
Unto the cradel, and in his hand it hent, 4319

And bare it soft unto his beddes fete.
Sone after this the wif hire routing lete,
And gan awake, and went hire oat to piste,
And came again, and gan the cradel miffe,
And groped here and ther, but she fond non. 4*15
Alas! (quod she) I had almost mifgon;
I had almost gon to the clerkes bedde:
Ey lenidkitt! than had 1 foule yfpedde.
And forth me goth til she the cradel fond.
She gropeth alway forther with hire hond, 4aa»
And fond the bed, and thoughte nat but good,
Because that the cradel by it stood,
And n'iste wher she was, for it was derk,
But faire and wel she crept in by the clerk,

Cr. A. S. p. 131. Me has there published an excellent description of the country of Cokaigne in old Englith verse, but probably translated/rom the French -, at least the French have had the same sable among them, for Boileau plainly alludes to it, fat. vi.;

Paris eft pour un riche un pais dc Cocagnt. The festival of La Cocagna at Naples, described by Keyjltrt ». ii. p. 369, appears to have the fame foundation. It probably commenced under the Norman government. There is a mockheroick poem in the Sicilian dialect entitled La Cuuagna Con* quijlata, by Gio. Battifta Basili, Palerm. 16-4, in which A* description oU'alma cilta di Cttccagna begins thus;

Sedi Cuccagna sutta Una montagna

Ivi surmaggiu grattatu, et tiavi in cjma

Bi nanartlni ana cauaara siagaa.

Andtith f ul still, and wold han caught a flepe. 4225
Within a while this John the clerk up lepe,
And on this goode wif he laieth on fort;
So niery a fit ne had (he rrat ful yore:
He priketh hard and depe as he were mad.

This joly lif han these two cletkes lad 4230

Til that the thridde cok began to sing.
Alein wex werie in the morwening,
For he had swonken all the longe night,
And sayd, E'arewel, Malkin, my swete wight i
The day is come, 1 may no longer bide, 4*34

But evermo wher so I go or rid«
1 is thin awen clerk, so have I hele.
Now, dere lcmman, quod me, go, farewele;
But or thou go o thing 1 wol thee tell.
Whan that thou wendest homeward by the mell,
Right at the entree of the dore behind 4*41

Thou st.alt a cake of half a bushel find
That was ymaked of thin owen mele,
Which that I halpe my fader for to stele!
And, goode lemman, God thee save and kepe. 4245
And with that word (he gan almost to wepe.

Alein uprist, and thought er that it daw
1 wol go crepen in by my selaw;
And fond the cradel at his hand anon.
By God, thought he, all wrang I have misgont 4250
My hed is tottie of my swink to night,
That maketh me that I go nat aright.

relume II. S

1 wot wel by the cradcl I have misgo;

Here lith the miller and his wif also.

And forth he goth a twenty divel way 4*55

Unto the bed, ther as the miller lay.

He wend have cropen by his felaw John,

And by the miller in he crept anon,

And caught him by the nekke, and gan him shake,

And sayd, Thou John, thou swineflied, awake 4260

For Cristes saule, and here a noble game;

ForTay that lord that called is Scint Jame,

As I have thries as in this short night

Kwived the millers doughter bolt upright

While thou hast as a coward ben agast. 4205

Ye, false harlot, quod the miller, hast? A, false traitour, false clerk, (quod he) Thou shalt be ded by Goddes dignitee, Who dorste be so bold to disparage Mydoughter, that is come of fwiche linage. 4270 And by the thrpte-bolle he caught Altin, And he him hent despitoufly again, And on the nose he smote him with his fist; Doun ran the blody streme upon his brest: And in the flore with nose and mouth to-broke 4175 They walwe, as don two pigges in a poke. And up they gon, and doun again anon, Til that the miller sporned at a ston, .. ,.; And doun he fell backward upon his wif, That wiste nothing of this nice strif: 4280

For flie was fall aslepe a litel wight
With John the clerk, that waked had all night,
And with the fall out of hire flepe she braide.
Helpe, holy crois of Bromeholme! (she fayde)
In minus tuas, Lord, to thee 1 call. 4185

Awake, Simond, the fend is on me fall;
Myn herte is broken; helpe; I n'am but ded;
M her lith on up my wombe and up myn hed:
Helpe, Sirakin, for the false clerkes fight.
This John stert up as fast as ever he might, 4290
And graspeth by the walks to and fro
To find a staf, and she stert up also,
And knew the estres bet than did this John,
And by the wall file toke a staf anon,
And saw a litel sh,emering of a light, 4*95

For at an hole in shone the mone bright,
And by that light she saw hem bothe two,
But sikerly she n'isie who was who,
But as she saw a white thing in hire eye;
And whan she gan thi* white thing espie 43CO

She wend the clerk had wered a volupere,
And with the staf file drow ay nere and ncre,
And wend han hit thi» Alein atte full,
And smote the miller on the pilled skull,
That doun he goth, and cried, Harrow! I die. 4305
Thise clerkes bete him wcl, and let him lie,
And greithen hem, and take hir hors anon,
And eke hir racle, and on hir way they gon;

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