Alain, who heard this melody,
He poked at John and said: "Asleep? But how?
Have you ever heard such a noice before now?
Lo, what a compline is among them all!
A wilde fyr on their bodies fall!
They shall have the fleur du mal.
Through this long night there'll be for me no rest;
But never mind, 'twill all be for the best.
For, John," said he, "as ever I'll take my luck,
As, if I can, that very wench I'll fuck.
Some compensation the law allows to us;
For, John, there is a lawe which says thus,
That if a man in one point be aggrieved,
Yet in another shall he be relieved.
Our gere is stolen, there's no denial to that,
An evil time all this day we had.
But since I may not have amending, now,
Against my loss I'll set some fun - and how!
By God's great soul it shall not be otherwise!"
This John replied: "Alain, let me advise.
Simpkin is a dangerous man," he said,
"And if he be awakened, I'm afraid
He may well do us both an injury."
But Alain said: "I count him not a flea."
And up he rose and to the doghter he crept.
This wench lay on her back and soundly slept,
Until he'd come so near, before she might spy,
It was too late to struggle then, or cry;
And, to be brief, these two were soon at one.
Now play, Alain! For I will speak of John.
