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Thou kindeft of thy Sex, the Day comes on,
And we must part - Alas, will you begon,
She said, and leave poor harmless me alone?
If I stay longer, we are both undone ;
For should your Father wake and find me here,
What will become of me, and you, my Dear?
That dreadful Thought (the cries) distracts my
Too foon you won me, and too soon we part.
Then clinginground his Neck, with weepingEyes,
She says, Remember me! Allen replies,
I'll quickly find occafion to return;
You shall not long for Allen's Absence mourn.
Farewel she cries! But, Dearest, one Word more
You'll find upon á Sack behind the Door
A Cake, and under it a Bag of Meal :
The Flour my Father and my self did steal,
Out of your Sack ; but take it, 'tis your own.
Be careful, Love, not a Word more, begone.
3, Now Allen softly 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 Palaté, in he crept;
I'm right, he says, dull John all Night has slept."
Then shaking him-Wake Swineherd, Allen cries,
I've joyful News What? grumbling, Sim replies.
I am the luckiestRogue---by this No Light,
I have had full Employment all the Night.
The Daughter kindly paid her Father's Score,
All Night I have embrac'd her -- the Whore!
O thou false Traytor, Clerke! Thou haft defild
Our honest Family, deflower'd our Child!
Thy Life shall answer it ;-with that he caught
At Allen's Throát; young Allen stoutly fought.
Both give and take, returning Blows with Blows;
But Allen stroke the Miller on the Nofe
With all his force; out flies the streaming Gore,
And down it iuns. They tumble on the Floor;
Then up they get, labouring with equal Strife:
Sim stumbled backward quitė a-cross his Wife.
She fast a-fleep, none of this Scuffie heard.
Wak'd by his Fall, and heartily afraid !
Help holy Cross of Broholme! (O I faint)
Help my good Angel! Help my Patron Saint!
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 Strife.
Up gets the Miller, Allen grasps him close,
Both play at hard-head, strugling to get loose.
Out steps the Wife, well knowing where there
In a by-corner, a tough piece of Wood;
On this she seis'd, and by a glimm’ring Light
Which enter'd at a Chink faw something white.
But, by a foul Mistake, 'twas her ill hap
To take his bald Pate for the Scholar's Cap...
She lifts the Staff, it fell on his bare Crown,
Strong was the Blow, she knock'd her. Husband
OI am Slain, the Miller loudly cry'd.
Live to be hang'd, thou Thief, Allen reply’d.
Away they go, first take their Meat 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 strange Adventures of the Night.
The Wife the Scholars curses, binds his Head, Then lifts him up, and lays him on the Bed. O Wife, says Sim, our Daughter is defild, That Villain Allen has debauch'd our Child. Mistaking me for John, he told me all; Ten thousand Furies plague that Scholars-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 rose, to know the Caufe, 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 swelling Breast,
And lulld her in these very Arms to Rest.
All was Contrivance, Malice all and Spight,
I have not parted from her all this Night.
Then is she Innocent ? Ay by my Life,
As pare and spotless-----as thy Bofom Wife.
I'm satisfied, says Sim. O that damn'd Hall!,
I'll do the best I can'to starve 'em All.
And thus the Miller of his Fear is easid,
The Mother and the Daughter both well pleas'd.