And so befell, that on a Saturday This carpenter was gone to Oseney, And Hendy Nicholas and Alisón Accorded were to this conclusión, That Nicholas shall shapë him a wile The silly jealous husband to beguile; And if so were the gamë went aright, She shouldë sleepen in his arms all night; For this was her desire and his also. And right anon, withoutë wordës mo’, This Nicholas no longer would he tarry, But doth full soft unto his chamber carry Both meat and drinkë for a day or tway. And to her husband bade her for to say, If that he asked after Nicholas, She shouldë say, “She wist not where he was; Of all the day she saw him not with eye; She trowed he was in some maladý, For no cry that her maiden could him call He would answer, for nought that might befall.” Thus passed forth all thilkë Saturday, That Nicholas still in his chamber lay, And ate, and slept, and diddë what him list Till Sunday, that the sunnë went to rest. This silly carpenter had great marvail Of Nicholas, or what thing might him ail, And said; “I am adrad, by Saint Thomas! It standeth not aright with Nicholas: God shieldë that he died suddenly. This world is now full tickle sickerly. I saw to-day a corpse y-borne to chirch, That now on Monday last I saw him wirch. “Go up,” quod he unto his knave, “anon; Clepe at his door, or knockë with a stone: Look how it is, and tell me boldëly.” This knavë went him up full sturdily, And, at the chamber door while that he stood, He cried and knocked as that he were wood: “What how? what do ye, Master Nicholay? How may ye sleepen all the longë day?” But all for nought, he heardë not a word. An hole he found full low upon the board, There as the cat was wont in for to creep, And at that hole he looked in full deep, And at the last he had of him a sight. This Nicholas sat ever gaping upright, As he had kyked on the newë moon. Adown he went, and told his master soon, In what array he saw this ilkë man.
This carpenter to blissen him began, And said: “Now help us, Saintë Frideswide. A man wot little what shall him betide. This man is fall’n with his astronomy Into some woodness or some agony. I thought aye well how that it shouldë be. Men should know nought of Goddë’s