Four Funny Tales (1802, Ayr)/The Monk and the Miller's Wife

by Anonymous

For other versions of this work, see The Monk and the Miller's Wife.

THE

MONK AND THE MILLER'S WIFE.

A TALE.

 

Now lend your lugs, ye benders fine,Wha ken the benefit of wine;And you wha laughing, scud brown ale,Leave jinks a wee, and hear a tale.

 

An honest miller winn'd in Fife,That had a young and wanton wife,Wha sometimes thol'd the parish-priestTo mak' her man a twa horn'd beast:He paid right mony visits till her,And to keep in with Hab the miller,He endeavour'd aft to mak' him happy,Where'er he kend the ale was nappy.Sic condescension in a pastor,Knit Halbert's love to him the faster;And by his converse, troth 'tis true,Hab learn'd to preach when he was fou.Thus all the three were wonder pleas'd,The wife well serv'd, the man well eas'd.This ground his corns, and that did cherishHimself with dining round the parish.Bess, the good wife, thought it nae skaith,Since she was fit, to serve them baith.

When equal is the night and day,And Ceres gives the schools the play,A youth sprung frae a gentler pater,Bred at Saint Andrew's alma mater,Ae day gawn hameward, it fell late,And him benighted by the gate:To lye without, pit-mark did shore him, He coudna see his thumb before him:But, clack—clack—clack, he heard a mill,Whilk led him by the lugs theretil.To tak the thread of tale alang,This mill to Halbert did belang;Not less this note your notice claims,This scholar's name was Master James.

Now, smiling muse, the prelude past,Smoothly relate a tale shall lastAs lang as Alps and Grampian hills,As lang as wind or water-mills.

In enter'd James, Hab saw and kend him,And offer'd kindly to befriend himWith sic good cheer as he cou'd makeBaith for his ain and father's sake.The scholar thought himself right sped,And gave him thanks in terms wiel bred.Quoth Hab, I canna leave my millAs yet;———but step ye west the killA bow-shot, and ye'll find my hame:Gae warm ye, and crack with our dame,'Till I set aff the mill, syne weShall tak' what Bessy has to gi'e.James, in return, what's handsome said,O'er lang to tell; and aff he gadeOut of the house some light did shine,Which led him till't as with a line:Arriv'd, he knock'd, for doors were steekit;Straight thro' a window Bessy keekit,And cries, "Wha's that gi'es fowk a frightAt sic untimeous time of night?"James with good humour, maist discreetly,Tald her his circumstance completely."I dinna ken ye," quoth the wife,"And up and down the thieves are rife;'Within my lane, I'm but a woman,Sae I'll unbar my door to nae man,But since 'tis very like my dow, That a' y'ere telling may be true,Hae, there's a key, gang in your wayAt the neist door there's braw ait strae;Streek down upon't, my lad and learnThey're no ill lodg'd that get a barn."Thus, after meikle clitter clatter,James fand he coudna mend the matter;And since it might nae better be,With resignation took the key,Unlockt the barn—clam up the mou,Where was an opening near the hou,Through whilk he saw a glent of light,That gave diversion to his sight:By this he quickly cou'd discernA thin wa' sep'rate house and barn,And thro' this rive was in the wa',All done within the house he saw:He saw (what ought not to be seen,And scarce gave credit to his een)The parish priest of reverend fameIn active courtship with the dame—To lengthen out description here,Would but offend the modest ear,And beet the lewder youthfu' flameThat we by satire strive to tame.Suppose the wicked action o'er,And James continuing still to glowr;Wha saw the wife as fast as able,Spread a clean servite on the table,And syne frae the ha' ingle bring benA pyping het young roasted hen,And twa good bottles stout and clear,Ane of strong ale, and ane of beer.

But wicked luck, just as the priestShot in his fork in chucky's breast,Th' unwelcome miller ga'e a roar,Cry'd, 'Bessy, haste ye ope the door.'—With that the haly letcher fled,And darn'd himself behind a bed; While Bessy huddl'd a' things by,That nought the cuckold might espy;Syne loot him in,———but out of tune,Speer'd why he left the mill sae soon:'I come,' said he, as manners claims,To crack and wait on Master James,Whilk I shou'd do, tho' ne'er sae bizzy:I sent him here, good-wife, where is he?"'Ye sent him here (quoth Bessy, grumbling),Kend I this James? A chiel came rumbling,But how was I assur'd, when dark,That he had been nae thievish spark,Or some rude wencher gotten a dose,That a weak wife cou'd ill oppose?''And what came of him? speak nae langer,'Cries Halbert, in a Highland anger.'I sent him to the barn,' quoth she:'Gae quickly bring him in,' quoth he.

James was brought in—the wife was bawked—The priest stood close—the miller cracked—Then ask'd his sunkan gloomy spouse,What supper had she in the house,That might be suitable to gi'eAne of their lodger's qualitie?Quoth she, 'Ye may wiel ken, good-man,Your feast comes frae the pottage-pan:The stov'd and roasted we afford,Are aft great strangers on our board.''Pottage,' quoth Hab, 'ye senseless tawpie!Think ye this youth's a gilly-gawpy?And that his gentle stamock's masterTo worry up a pint of plaister?Like our mill-knaves that lift the laiding,Whase kytes can streek out like raw plaiding.Swith roast a hen, or fry some chickens,And send for ale frae Maggy Picken's''Hout aye,' quoth she, ye may wiel ken,'Tis ill brought but that's no there ben;When but last owk, nae farder gane,The laird got a' to pay his kain.'

Then James, wha had as good a guessOf what was in the house, as Bess,With pawky smile, this plea to end,To please himsel and ease his friend,First open'd, with a slee oration,His won'rous skill in conjuration.Said he, "By this fell art I'm ableTo whop aff any great man's tableWhate'er I like to make a mail of,Either in part, or yet the hail of,—And if ye please I'll shaw my art,—Cries Halbert, 'Faith with all my heart!'Bess fain'd herself,—cry'd, 'Lord be here!'And near hand fell a swoon for fear.James leugh, and bade her naithing dread,Syne to his conjuring went with speed:And first he draws a circle round,Then utters mony a magic soundOf words part Latin, Greek and Dutch,Enow to fright a very witch:That done, he says, 'Now, now 'tis come,And in the boal beside the lum;Now set the board; good wife gae ben,Bring frae yon boal a roasted hen'She wadna gang but Haby ventur'd;And soon as he the ambrie enter'd,It smell'd sae wiel he short time sought it,And won'ring, 'tween his hands he brought it.He view'd it round and thrice he smell'd it,Syne with a gentle touch he felt it.Thus ilka sense he did convene,Lest glamour had beguil'd his e'en;They all in an united body,Declar'd it a fine fat how towdy.'Nae mair about it," quoth the miller,'The fowl looks wiel, and we'll fa' till her.'Sae be't says James; and in a doup,They snapt her up baith stoup and roup.

'Neist, O!' cries Halbert, 'cou'd your skillBut help us to a waught of ale,I'd be oblig'd t'ye a' my life,And offer to the deel my wife.To see if he'll discreeter mak' her,But that I'm fleed he winna tak' her.'Said James; 'Ye offer very fair,The bargain's hadden, say nae mair.'

Then thrice he shook a willow wand,With kittle words thrice gave command;That done, with look baith learn'd and grave,Said, 'Now ye'll get what we wad have;Twa bottles of as nappy liquerAs ever ream'd in horn or bicker,Behind the ark that hads your meal,Ye'll find twa standing corkit wiel.'He said, and fast the miller flew,And frae their nest the bottles drew:Then first the scholar's health he toasted,Whase art had gart him feed on roasted;His father's niest,———and a' the restOf his good friends that wish'd him best,Which were o'er langsome at the time,In a short tale, to put in rhyme.

Thus, while the miller and the youthWere blythly slock'ning of their drowth,Bess, fretting, scarcely held frae greeting,The priest inclos'd, stood vex'd and sweating.

'O wow!' said Hab, 'if ane might spear,Dear Master James, wha brought our cheer?Sic laits appear to us sae awfu',We hardly think your learning lawfu'.

'To bring your doubts to a conclusion,'Says James, 'ken I'm a Rosicrucian;Ane of the set that never carriesOn traffic with black deels or fairies;There's mony a sp'rit that's no a deel,That constantly around us wheel. There was a sage call'd Albumazor,Whase wit was gleg as ony razor:Frae this great man we learn'd the skillTo bring these gentry to our will;And they appear, when we've a mind,In ony shape of human kind:Now, if you'll drap your foolish fear,I'll gar my Pacolet appear.'

Hab fidg'd and' leugh, his elbuck clew,Baith fear'd and fond a sp'rit to view:At last his courage wan the day,He to the scholar's will give way.

Bessy by this began to smellA rat, but kept her mind to'r sell:She pray'd like howdy in her drink,But mean time tipt young James a wink.James frae his e'e an answer sent,Which made the wife right weel content:Then turn'd to Hab, and thus advis'd:'Whate'er you see be nought surpris'd,But for your saul move not your tongue;And ready stand with a great rung:Syne as the sp'rit gangs marching out,Be sure to lend him a found rout:I bidna this by way of mocking,For nought delytes him mair than knocking.'

Hab got a kent—stood by the hallan,And straight the wild mischievous callanCries, "Radamanthus Husky Mingo,Monk, Horner, Hippock, Jinko Jingo,Appear in likeness of a priest;No like a deel, in shape of beast,With gaping chasts to fleg us a'ːWauk forth, the door stands to the wa'.'

Then frae the hole where he was pent,The priest approach'd right weel content;With silent pace strade o'er the floor, 'Till he was drawing near the door,Then to escape the cudgel ranBut was not miss'd by the good man,Wha lent him on his neck a lounder,That gart him o'er the threshold founder.Darkness soon hid him frae their sight;Ben flew the miller in a fright:'I trow,' quoth he, 'I laid well on;But wow he's like our own Mess Johnǃ'

 

FINIS.

 

 

Air, Printed by J. & P. Wilson, 1802.