Thou kindeft of thy Sex, the Day comes on, 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 (fhe cries) diftracts my
Too foon you won me, and too foon we part.
Then clinging round his Neck, with weepingEyes,
She says, Remember me! Allen replies,
I'll quickly find occafion to return;~;
You shall not long for Allen's Abfence mourn.
Farewel fhe cries! But, Deareft, one Word more;
You'll find upon a 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.
Now Allen foftly feeling for his Bed,
By chance his Hand laid on the Cradle-head,
And fhrinking from it, faid (with no fmall 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 Swineherd, 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 Score,
All Night I have embrac'd her-O the Whore!
O thou false Traytor, Clerke! 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 Nofe
With all his force; out flies the ftreaming Gore,
And down it runs. They tumble on the Floor;
Then up they get, labouring with equal Strife:
Sim ftumbled backward quite a-crofs his Wife.
She fast a-sleep, none of this Scuffle heard.
Wak'd by his Fall, and heartily afraid!
Help holy Cross of Broholme! (OI 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 grafps him close,
Both play at hard-head, ftrugling to get loose.
Out steps the Wife, well knowing where there
[stood,
In a by-corner, a tough piece of Wood;
On this she feis'd, and by a glimm'ring Light
Which enter'd at a Chink faw fomething 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, fhe 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 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 strange Adventures of the Night.
The Wife the Scholars curfes, binds his Head, Then lifts 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." Miftaking me for John, he told me all;
Ten thousand Furies plague that Scholars-Hall!
O false abufive 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 Caufe, and eafe her Pain.
I found her torn with Gripes, aDram I brought,
And made her take a comfortable Draught.
Then lay down by her, chaff'd her fwelling Breast,
And lull'd 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 fhe Innocent? Ay by my Life,
As pure and spotlefs---as thy Bofom Wife.
I'm fatisfied, says 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.
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