The Canterbury Tales

Fragment I

The Knight's Tale

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Iamque domos patrias, Scithice post

aspera gentis prelia, laurigero, etc.

(Statius, Thebais XII, 519/520)

Heere bigynneth the

Knyghtes Tale

Prima pars

Secunda pars

Tercia pars

Quarta pars

[Prima pars]

Whilom, as olde stories tellen us,

860

Ther was a duc that highte theseus;

Of atthenes he was lord and governour,

And in his tyme swich a conquerour,

That gretter was ther noon under the sonne.

Ful many a riche contree hadde he wonne;

865

What with his wysdom and his chivalrie,

He conquered al the regne of femenye,

That whilom was ycleped scithia,

And weddede the queene ypolita,

And broghte hire hoom with hym in his contree

870

With muchel glorie and greet solempnytee,

And eek hir yonge suster emelye.

And thus with victorie and with melodye

Lete I this noble duc to atthenes ryde,

And al his hoost in armes hym bisyde.

875

And certes, if it nere to long to heere,

I wolde have toold yow fully the manere

How wonnen was the regne of femenye

By theseus and by his chivalrye;

And of the grete bataille for the nones

880

Bitwixen atthenes and amazones;

And how asseged was ypolita,

The faire, hardy queene of scithia;

And of the feste that was at hir weddynge,

And of the tempest at hir hoom-comynge;

885

But al that thyng I moot as now forbere.

I have, God woot, a large feeld to ere,

And wayke been the oxen in my plough.

The remenant of the tale is long ynough.

I wol nat letten eek noon of this route;

890

Lat every felawe telle his tale aboute,

And lat se now who shal the soper wynne;

And ther I lefte, I wol ayeyn bigynne.

This duc, of whom I make mencioun,

Whan he was come almoost unto the toun,

895

In al his wele and in his mooste pride,

He was war, as he caste his eye aside,

Where that ther kneled in the heighe weye

A compaignye of ladyes, tweye and tweye,

Ech after oother, clad in clothes blake;

900

But swich a cry and swich a wo they make

That in this world nys creature lyvynge

That herde swich another waymentynge;

And of this cry they nolde nevere stenten

Til they the reynes of his brydel henten.

905

What fold been ye, that at myn homcomynge

Perturben so my feste with criynge?

Quod theseus. Have ye so greet envye

Of myn honour, that thus compleyne and crye?

Or who hath yow mysboden or offended?

910

And telleth me if it may been amended,

And why that ye been clothed thus in blak.

The eldeste lady of hem alle spak,

Whan she hadde swowned with a deedly cheere,

That it was routhe for to seen and heere.

915

She seyde: lord, to whom fortune hath yiven

Victorie, and as a conqueror to lyven,

Nat greveth us youre glorie and youre honour,

But we biseken mercy and socour.

Have mercy on oure wo and oure distresse!

920

Som drope of pitee, thurgh thy gentillesse,

Upon us wrecched wommen lat thou falle.

For, certes, lord, ther is noon of us alle,

That she ne hath been a duchesse or a queene.

Now be we caytyves, as it is wel seene,

925

Thanked be fortune and hire false wheel,

That noon estaat assureth to be weel.

And certes, lord, to abyden youre presence,

Heere in this temple of the goddesse clemence

We han ben waitynge al this fourtenyght.

930

Now help us, lord, sith it is in thy myght.

I, wrecche, which that wepe and wayle thus,

Was whilom wyf to kyng cappaneus,

That starf at thebes – cursed be that day! –

And alle we that been in this array

935

And maken al this lamentacioun,

We losten alle oure housbondes at that toun,

Whil that the seege theraboute lay.

And yet now the olde creon, weylaway!

That lord is now of thebes the citee,

940

Fulfild of ire and of iniquitee,

He, for despit and for his tirannye,

To do the dede bodyes vileynye

Of alle oure lordes whiche that been yslawe,

Hath alle the bodyes on an heep ydrawe,

945

And wol nat suffren hem, by noon assent,

Neither to been yburyed nor ybrent,

But maketh houndes ete hem in despit.

And with that word, withouten moore respit,

They fillen gruf and criden pitously,

950

Have on us wrecched wommen som mercy,

And lat oure sorwe synken in thyn herte.

This gentil duc doun from his courser sterte

With herte pitous, whan he herde hem speke.

Hym thoughte that his herte wolde breke,

955

Whan he saugh hem so pitous and so maat,

That whilom weren of so greet estaat;

And in his armes he hem alle up hente,

And hem conforteth in ful good entente,

And swoor his ooth, as he was trewe knyght,

960

He wolde doon so ferforthly his myght

Upon the tiraunt creon hem to wreke,

That al the peple of grece sholde speke

How creon was of theseus yserved

As he that hadde his deeth ful wel deserved.

965

And right anoon, withouten moore abood,

His baner he desplayeth, and forth rood

To thebes-ward, and al his hoost biside.

No neer atthenes wolde he go ne ride,

Ne take his ese fully half a day,

970

But onward on his wey that nyght he lay,

And sente anon ypolita the queene,

And emelye, hir yonge suster sheene,

Unto the toun of atthenes to dwelle,

And forth he rit; ther is namoore to telle.

975

The rede statue of mars, with spere and targe,

So shyneth in his white baner large,

That alle the feeldes glyteren up and doun;

And by his baner born is his penoun

Of gold ful riche, in which ther was ybete

980

The mynotaur, which that he slough in crete.

Thus rit this duc, thus rit this conquerour,

And in his hoost of chivalrie the flour,

Til that he cam to thebes and alighte

Faire in a feeld, ther as he thoughte to fighte.

985

But shortly for to speken of this thyng,

With creon, which that was of thebes kyng,

He faught, and slough hym manly as a knyght

In pleyn bataille, and putte the folk to flyght;

And by assaut he wan the citee after,

990

And rente adoun bothe wall and sparre and rafter;

And to the ladyes he restored agayn

The bones of hir housbondes that were slayn,

To doon obsequies, as was tho the gyse.

But it were al to longe for to devyse

995

The grete clamour and the waymentynge

That the ladyes made at the brennynge

Of the bodies, and the grete honour

That theseus, the noble conquerour,

Dooth to the ladyes, whan they from hym wente;

1000

But shortly for to telle is myn entente.

Whan that this worthy duc, this theseus,

Hath creon slayn, and wonne thebes thus,

Stille in that feeld he took al nyght his reste,

And dide with al the contree as hym leste.

1005

To ransake in the taas of bodyes dede,

Hem for to strepe of harneys and of wede,

The pilours diden bisynesse and cure

After the bataille and disconfiture.

And so bifel that in the taas they founde,

1010

Thurgh-girt with many a grevous blody wounde,

Two yonge knyghtes liggynge by and by,

Bothe in oon armes, wroght ful richely,

Of whiche two arcita highte that oon,

And that oother knyght highte palamon.

1015

Nat fully quyke, ne fully dede they were,

But by hir cote-armures and by hir gere

The heraudes knewe hem best in special

As they that weren of the blood roial

Of thebes, and of sustren two yborn.

1020

Out of the taas the pilours han hem torn,

And han hem caried softe unto the tente

Of theseus; and he ful soone hem sente

To atthenes, to dwellen in prisoun

Perpetuelly, – he nolde no raunsoun.

1025

And whan this worthy duc hath thus ydon,

He took his hoost, and hoom he rit anon

With laurer crowned as a conquerour;

And ther he lyveth in joye and in honour

Terme of his lyf; what nedeth wordes mo?

1030

And in a tour, in angwissh and in wo,

This palamon and his felawe arcite

For everemoore; ther may no gold hem quite.

This passeth yeer by yeer and day by day,

Till it fil ones, in a morwe of may,

1035

That emelye, that fairer was to sene

Than is the lylie upon his stalke grene,

And fressher than the may with floures newe –

For with the rose colour stroof hire hewe,

I noot which was the fyner of hem two –

1040

Er it were day, as was hir wone to do,

She was arisen and al redy dight;

For may wole have no slogardie a-nyght.

The sesoun priketh every gentil herte,

And maketh hym out of his slep to sterte,

1045

And seith arys, and do thyn observaunce.

This maked emelye have remembraunce

To doon honour to may, and for to ryse.

Yclothed was she fressh, for to devyse:

Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse

1050

Bihynde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse.

And in the gardyn, at the sonne upriste,

She walketh up and doun, and as hire liste

She gadereth floures, party white and rede,

To make a subtil gerland for hire hede;

1055

And as an aungel hevenysshly she soong.

The grete tour, that was so thikke and stroong,

Which of the castel was the chief dongeoun,

(ther as the knyghtes weren in prisoun

Of which I tolde yow and tellen shal)

1060

Was evene joynant to the gardyn wal

Ther as this emelye hadde hir pleyynge.

Bright was the sonne and cleer that morwenynge,

And palamoun, this woful prisoner,

As was his wone, by leve of his gayler,

1065

Was risen and romed in a chambre an heigh,

In which he al the noble citee seigh,

And eek the gardyn, ful of braunches grene,

Ther as this fresshe emelye the shene

Was in hire walk, and romed up and doun.

1070

This sorweful prisoner, this palamoun,

Goth in the chambre romynge to and fro,

And to hymself compleynynge of his wo.

That he was born, ful ofte he seyde, allas!

And so bifel, by aventure or cas,

1075

That thurgh a wyndow, thikke of many a barre

Of iren greet and square as any sparre,

He cast his eye upon emelya,

And therwithal he bleynte and cride, a!

As though he stongen were unto the herte.

1080

And with that cry arcite anon up sterte,

And seyde, cosyn myn, what eyleth thee,

That art so pale and deedly on to see?

Why cridestow? who hath thee doon offence?

For goddes love, taak al in pacience

1085

Oure prisoun, for it may noon oother be.

Fortune hath yeven us this adversitee.

Som wikke aspect or disposicioun

Of saturne, by som constellacioun,

Hath yeven us this, although we hadde it sworn;

1090

So stood the hevene whan that we were born.

We moste endure it; this is the short and playn.

This palamon answerde and seyde agayn:

Cosyn, for sothe, of this opinioun

Thow hast a veyn ymaginacioun.

1095

This prison caused me nat for to crye,

But I was hurt right now thurghout myn ye

Into myn herte, that wol my bane be.

The fairnesse of that lady that I see

Yond in the gardyn romen to and fro

1100

Is cause of al my criyng and my wo.

I noot wher she be womman or goddesse,

But venus is it soothly, as I gesse.

And therwithal on knees doun he fil,

And seyde: venus, if it be thy wil

1105

Yow in this gardyn thus to transfigure

Bifore me, sorweful, wrecched creature,

Out of this prisoun help that we may scapen.

And if so be my destynee be shapen

By eterne word to dyen in prisoun,

1110

Of oure lynage have som compassioun,

That is so lowe ybroght by tirannye.

And with that word arcite gan espye

Wher as this lady romed to and fro,

And with that sighte hir beautee hurte hym so,

1115

That, if that palamon was wounded sore,

Arcite is hurt as muche as he, or moore.

And with a sigh he seyde pitously:

The fresshe beautee sleeth me sodeynly

Of hire that rometh in the yonder place,

1120

And but I have hir mercy and hir grace,

That I may seen hire atte leeste weye,

I nam but deed; ther nis namoore to seye.

This palamon, whan he tho wordes herde,

Dispitously he looked and answerde,

1125

Wheither seistow this in ernest or in pley?

Nay, quod arcite, in ernest, by my fey!

God helpe me so, me list ful yvele pleye.

This palamon gan knytte his browes tweye.

It nere, quod he, to thee no greet honour

1130

For to be fals, ne for to be traitour

To me, that am thy cosyn and thy brother

Ysworn ful depe, and ech of us til oother,

That nevere, for to dyen in the peyne,

Til that the deeth departe shal us tweyne,

1135

Neither of us in love to hyndre oother,

Ne in noon oother cas, my leeve brother;

But that thou sholdest trewely forthren me

In every cas, as I shal forthren thee, –

This was thyn ooth, and myn also, certeyn;

1140

I woot right wel, thou darst it nat withseyn.

Thus artow of my conseil, out of doute,

And now thow woldest falsly been aboute

To love my lady, whom I love and serve,

And evere shal til that myn herte sterve.

1145

Nay, certes, false arcite, thow shalt nat so.

I loved hire first, and tolde thee my wo

As to my conseil and my brother sworn

To forthre me, as I have toold biforn.

For which thou art ybounden as a knyght

1150

To helpen me, if it lay in thy myght,

Or elles artow fals, I dar wel seyn.

This arcite ful proudly spak ageyn:

Thow shalt, quod he, be rather fals than I;

And thou art fals, I telle thee outrely,

1155

For paramour I loved hire first er thow.

What wiltow seyen? thou woost nat yet now

Wheither she be a womman or goddesse!

Thyn is affeccioun of hoolynesse,

And myn is love, as to a creature;

1160

For which I tolde thee myn aventure

As to my cosyn and my brother sworn.

I pose that thow lovedest hire biforn;

Wostow nat wel the olde clerkes sawe,

That "who shal yeve a lovere any lawe?"

1165

Love is a gretter lawe, by my pan,

Than may be yeve to any erthely man;

And therfore positif lawe and swich decree

Is broken al day for love in ech degree.

A man moot nedes love, maugree his heed.

1170

He may nat fleen it, thogh he sholde be deed,

Al be she mayde, or wydwe, or elles wyf.

And eek it is nat likly al thy lyf

To stonden in hir grace; namoore shal I;

For wel thou woost thyselven, verraily,

1175

That thou and I be dampned to prisoun

Perpetuelly; us gayneth no raunsoun.

We stryve as dide the houndes for the boon;

They foughte al day, and yet hir part was noon.

Ther cam a kyte, whil that they were so wrothe,

1180

And baar awey the boon bitwixe hem bothe.

And therfore, at the kynges court, my brother,

Ech man for hymself, ther is noon oother.

Love, if thee list, for I love and ay shal;

And soothly, leeve brother, this is al.

1185

Heere in this prisoun moote we endure,

And everich of us take his aventure.

Greet was the strif and long bitwix hem tweye,

If that I hadde leyser for to seye,

But to th' effect. It happed on a day,

1190

To telle it yow as shortly as I may,

A worthy duc that highte perotheus,

That felawe was unto duc theseus

Syn thilke day that they were children lite,

Was come to atthenes his felawe to visite,

1195

And for to pleye as he was wont to do;

For in this world he loved no man so,

And he loved hym als tendrely agayn.

So wel they lovede, as olde bookes sayn,

That whan that oon was deed, soothly to telle,

1200

His felawe wente and soughte hym doun in helle, –

But of that storie list me nat to write.

Duc perotheus loved wel arcite,

And hadde hym knowe at thebes yeer by yere,

And finally at requeste and preyere

1205

Of perotheus, withouten any raunsoun,

Duc theseus hym leet out of prisoun

Frely to goon wher that hym liste over al,

In swich a gyse as I you tellen shal.

This was the forward, pleynly for t' endite,

1210

Bitwixen theseus and hym arcite

That if so were that arcite were yfounde

Evere in his lif, by day or nyght, oo stounde

In any contree of this theseus,

And he were caught, it was acorded thus,

1215

That with a swerd he sholde lese his heed.

Ther nas noon oother remedie ne reed;

But taketh his leve, and homward he him spedde.

Lat hym be war! his nekke lith to wedde.

How greet a sorwe suffreth now arcite!

1220

The deeth he feeleth thurgh his herte smyte;

He wepeth, wayleth, crieth pitously;

To sleen hymself he waiteth prively.

He seyde, allas that day that I was born!

Now is my prisoun worse than biforn;

1225

Now is me shape eternally to dwelle.

Noght in purgatorie, but in helle.

Allas, that evere knew I perotheus!

For elles hadde I dwelled with theseus,

Yfetered in his prisoun everemo.

1230

Thanne hadde I been in blisse, and nat in wo.

Oonly the sighte of hire whom that I serve,

Though that I nevere hir grace may deserve,

Wolde han suffised right ynough for me.

O deere cosyn palamon, quod he,

1235

Thyn is the victorie of this aventure.

Ful blisfully in prison maistow dure, –

In prison? certes nay, but in paradys!

Wel hath fortune yturned thee the dys,

That hast the sighte of hire, and I th' absence.

1240

For possible is, syn thou hast hire presence,

And art a knyght, a worthy and an able,

That by som cas, syn fortune is chaungeable,

Thow maist to thy desir somtyme atteyne.

But I, that am exiled and bareyne

1245

Of alle grace, and in so greet dispeir,

That ther nys erthe, water, fir, ne eir,

Ne creature that of hem maked is,

That may me helpe or doon confort in this,

Wel oughte I sterve in wanhope and distresse.

1250

Farwel my lif, my lust, and my gladnesse!

Allas, why pleynen folk so in commune

On purveiaunce of god, or of fortune,

That yeveth hem ful ofte in many a gyse

Wel bettre than they kan hemself devyse?

1255

Som man desireth for to han richesse,

That cause is of his mordre or greet siknesse;

And som man wolde out of his prisoun fayn,

That in his hous is of his meynee slayn.

Infinite harmes been in this mateere.

1260

We witen nat what thing we preyen heere:

We faren as he that dronke is as a mous.

A dronke man woot wel he hath an hous,

But he noot which the righte wey is thider,

And to a dronke man the wey is slider.

1265

And certes, in this world so faren we;

We seken faste after felicitee,

But we goon wrong ful often, trewely.

Thus may we seyen alle, and namely I,

That wende and hadde a greet opinioun

1270

That if I myghte escapen from prisoun,

Thanne hadde I been in joye and perfit heele,

Ther now I am exiled fro my wele.

Syn that I may nat seen you, emelye,

I nam but deed; ther nys no remedye.

1275

Upon that oother syde palamon,

Whan that he wiste arcite was agon,

Swich sorwe he maketh that the grete tour

Resouneth of his youlyng and clamour.

The pure fettres on his shynes grete

1280

Weren of his bittre, salte teeres wete.

Allas, quod he, arcita, cosyn myn,

Of al oure strif, God woot, the fruyt is thyn.

Thou walkest now in thebes at thy large,

And of my wo thow yevest litel charge.

1285

Thou mayst, syn thou hast wisdom and manhede,

Assemblen alle the folk of oure kynrede,

And make a werre so sharp on this citee,

That by som aventure or some tretee

Thow mayst have hire to lady and to wyf

1290

For whom that I moste nedes lese my lyf.

For, as by wey of possibilitee,

Sith thou art at thy large, of prisoun free,

And art a lord, greet is thyn avauntage

Moore than is myn, that sterve here in a cage.

1295

For I moot wepe and wayle, whil I lyve,

With al the wo that prison may me yive,

And eek with peyne that love me yeveth also,

That doubleth al my torment and my wo.

Therwith the fyr of jalousie up sterte

1300

Withinne his brest, and hente him by the herte

So woodly that he lyk was to biholde

The boxtree or the asshen dede and colde.

Thanne seyde he, o crueel goddes that governe

This world with byndyng of youre word eterne,

1305

And writen in the table of atthamaunt

Youre parlement and youre eterne graunt,

What is mankynde moore unto you holde

Than is the sheep that rouketh in the folde?

For slayn is man right as another beest,

1310

And dwelleth eek in prison and arreest,

And hath siknesse and greet adversitee,

And ofte tymes giltelees, pardee.

What governance is in this prescience,

That giltelees tormenteth innocence?

1315

And yet encresseth this al my penaunce,

That man is bounden to his observaunce,

For goddes sake, to letten of his wille,

Ther as a beest may al his lust fulfille.

And whan a beest is deed he hath no peyne;

1320

But man after his deeth moot wepe and pleyne,

Though in this world he have care and wo.

Withouten doute it may stonden so.

The answere of this lete I to dyvynys,

But wel I woot that in this world greet pyne ys.

1325

Allas, I se a serpent or a theef,

That many a trewe man hath doon mescheef,

Goon at his large, and where hym list may turne.

But I moot been in prisoun thurgh saturne,

And eek thurgh juno, jalous and eek wood,

1330

That hath destroyed wel ny al the blood

Of thebes with his waste walles wyde;

And venus sleeth me on that oother syde

For jalousie and fere of hym arcite.

Now wol I stynte of palamon a lite,

1335

And lete hym in his prisoun stille dwelle,

And of arcita forth I wol yow telle.

The somer passeth, and the nyghtes longe

Encressen double wise the peynes stronge

Bothe of the lovere and the prisoner.

1340

I noot which hath the wofuller mester.

For, shortly for to seyn, this palamoun

Perpetuelly is dampned to prisoun,

In cheynes and in fettres to been deed;

And arcite is exiled upon his heed

1345

For everemo, as out of that contree,

Ne nevere mo he shal his lady see.

Yow loveres axe I now this questioun:

Who hath the worse, arcite or palamoun?

That oon may seen his lady day by day,

1350

But in prison he moot dwelle alway;

That oother wher hym list may ride or go,

But seen his lady shal he nevere mo.

Now demeth as yow liste, ye that kan,

For I wol telle forth as I bigan.

Explicit prima pars.

Sequitur pars secunda.

1355

Whan that arcite to thebes comen was,

Ful ofte a day he swelte and seyde allas!

For seen his lady shal he nevere mo.

And shortly to concluden al his wo,

So muche sorwe hadde nevere creature

1360

That is, or shal, whil that the world may dure.

His slep, his mete, his drynke, is hym biraft,

That lene he wex and drye as is a shaft;

His eyen holwe, and grisly to biholde,

His hewe falow and pale as asshen colde,

1365

And solitarie he was and evere allone,

And waillynge al the nyght, makynge his mone;

And if he herde song or instrument,

Thanne wolde he wepe, he myghte nat be stent.

So feble eek were his spiritz, and so lowe,

1370

And chaunged so, that no man koude knowe

His speche nor his voys, though men it herde.

And in his geere for al the world he ferde,

Nat oonly lik the loveris maladye

Of hereos, but rather lyk manye,

1375

Engendred of humour malencolik,

Biforen, in his celle fantastik.

And shortly, turned was al up so doun

Bothe habit and eek disposicioun

Of hym, this woful lovere daun arcite.

1380

What sholde I al day of his wo endite?

Whan he endured hadde a yeer or two

This crueel torment and this peyne and wo,

At thebes, in his contree, as I seyde,

Upon a nyght in sleep as he hym leyde,

1385

Hym thoughte how that the wynged God mercurie

Biforn hym stood and bad hym to be murie.

His slepy yerde in hond he bar uprighte;

An hat he werede upon his heris brighte.

Arrayed was this god, as he took keep,

1390

As he was whan that argus took his sleep;

And seyde hym thus: to atthenes shaltou wende,

Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende.

And with that word arcite wook and sterte.

Now trewely, hou soore that me smerte,

1395

Quod he, to atthenes right now wol I fare,

Ne for the drede of deeth shal I nat spare

To se my lady, that I love and serve.

In hire presence I recche nat to sterve.

And with that word he caughte a greet mirour,

1400

And saugh that chaunged was al his colour,

And saugh his visage al in another kynde.

And right anon it ran hym in his mynde,

That, sith his face was so disfigured

Of maladye the which he hadde endured,

1405

He myghte wel, if that he bar hym lowe,

Lyve in atthenes everemoore unknowe.

And seen his lady wel ny day by day.

And right anon he chaunged his array,

And cladde hym as a povre laborer,

1410

And al allone, save oonly a squier

That knew his privetee and al his cas,

Which was disgised povrely as he was,

To atthenes is he goon the nexte way.

And to the court he wente upon a day,

1415

And at the gate he profreth his servyse

To drugge and drawe, what so men wol devyse.

And shortly of this matere for to seyn,

He fil in office with a chamberleyn

The which that dwellynge was with emelye;

1420

For he was wys and koude soone espye

Of every servaunt which that serveth here.

Wel koude he hewen wode, and water bere,

For he was yong and myghty for the nones,

And therto he was long and big of bones

1425

To doon that any wight kan hym devyse.

A yeer or two he was in this servyse,

Page of the chambre of emelye the brighte;

And philostrate he seyde that he highte.

But half so wel biloved a man as he

1430

Ne was ther nevere in court of his degree;

He was so gentil of condicioun

That thurghout al the court was his renoun.

They seyden that it were a charitee

That theseus wolde enhauncen his degree,

1435

And putten hym in worshipful servyse,

Ther as he myghte his vertu excercise.

And thus withinne a while his name is spronge,

Bothe of his dedes and his goode tonge,

That theseus hath taken hym so neer,

1440

That of his chambre he made hym a squier,

And gaf hym gold to mayntene his degree.

And eek men broghte hym out of his contree,

From yeer to yeer, ful pryvely his rente;

But honestly and slyly he it spente,

1445

That no man wondred how that he it hadde.

And thre yeer in this wise his lif he ladde,

And bar hym so, in pees and eek in werre,

Ther was no man that theseus hath derre.

And in this blisse lete I now arcite,

1450

And speke I wole of palamon a lite.

In derknesse and horrible and strong prisoun

Thise seven yeer hath seten palamoun

Forpyned, what for wo and for distresse.

Who feeleth double soor and hevynesse

1455

But palamon, that love destreyneth so

That wood out of his wit he goth for wo?

And eek therto he is a prisoner

Perpetuelly, noght oonly for a yer.

Who koude ryme in englyssh proprely

1460

His martirdom? for sothe it am nat I;

Therfore I passe as lightly as I may.

It fel that in the seventhe yer, of may

The thridde nyght, (as olde bookes seyn,

That al this storie tellen moore pleyn)

1465

Were it by aventure or destynee –

As, whan a thyng is shapen, it shal be –

That soone after the mydnyght palamoun,

By helpyng of a freend, brak his prisoun

And fleeth the citee faste as he may go.

1470

For he hadde yeve his gayler drynke so

Of a clarree maad of a certeyn wyn,

With nercotikes and opie of thebes fyn,

That al that nyght, thogh that men wolde him shake,

The gayler sleep, he myghte nat awake;

1475

And thus he fleeth as faste as evere he may.

The nyght was short and faste by the day,

That nedes cost he moot hymselven hyde;

And til a grove faste ther bisyde

With dredeful foot thanne stalketh palamon.

1480

For, shortly, this was his opinion,

That in that grove he wolde hym hyde al day,

And in the nyght thanne wolde he take his way

To thebes-ward, his freendes for to preye

On theseus to helpe him to werreye;

1485

And shortly, outher he wolde lese his lif,

Or wynnen emelye unto his wyf.

This is th' effect and his entente pleyn.

Now wol I turne to arcite ageyn,

That litel wiste how ny that was his care,

1490

Til that fortune had broght him in the snare.

The bisy larke, messager of day,

Salueth in hir song the morwe gray,

And firy phebus riseth up so bright

That al the orient laugheth of the light,

1495

And with his stremes dryeth in the greves

The silver dropes hangynge on the leves.

And arcita, that in the court roial

With theseus is squier principal,

Is risen and looketh on the myrie day.

1500

And for to doon his observaunce to may,

Remembrynge on the poynt of his desir,

He on a courser, startlynge as the fir,

Is riden into the feeldes hym to pleye,

Out of the court, were it a myle or tweye.

1505

And to the grove of which that I yow tolde

By aventure his wey he gan to holde,

To maken hym a gerland of the greves

Were it of wodebynde or hawethorn leves,

And loude he song ayeyn the sonne shene:

1510

May, with alle thy floures and thy grene,

Welcome be thou, faire, fresshe may,

In hope that I som grene gete may.

And from his courser, with a lusty herte,

Into the grove ful hastily he sterte,

1515

And in a path he rometh up and doun,

Ther as by aventure this palamoun

Was in a bussh, that no man myghte hym se,

For soore afered of his deeth was he.

No thyng ne knew he that it was arcite;

1520

God woot he wolde have trowed it ful lite.

But sooth is seyd, go sithen many yeres,

That feeld hath eyen and the wode hath eres.

It is ful fair a man to bere hym evene,

For al day meeteth men at unset stevene.

1525

Ful litel woot arcite of his felawe,

That was so ny to herknen al his sawe,

For in the bussh he sitteth now ful stille.

Whan that arcite hadde romed al his fille,

And songen al the roundel lustily,

1530

Into a studie he fil sodeynly,

As doon thise loveres in hir queynte geres,

Now in the crope, now doun in the breres,

Now up, now doun, as boket in a welle.

Right as the friday, soothly for to telle,

1535

Now it shyneth, now it reyneth faste,

Right so kan geery venus overcaste

The hertes of hir folk; right as hir day

Is gereful, right so chaungeth she array.

Selde is the friday al the wowke ylike.

1540

Whan that arcite had songe, he gan to sike,

And sette hym doun withouten any moore.

Allas, quod he, that day that I was bore!

How longe, juno, thurgh thy crueltee,

Woltow werreyen thebes the citee?

1545

Allas, ybroght is to confusioun

The blood roial of cadme and amphioun, –

Of cadmus, which that was the firste man

That thebes bulte, or first the toun bigan,

And of the citee first was crouned kyng.

1550

Of his lynage am I and his ofspryng

By verray ligne, as of the stok roial,

And now I am so caytyf and so thral,

That he that is my mortal enemy,

I serve hym as his squier povrely.

1555

And yet dooth juno me wel moore shame,

For I dar noght biknowe myn owene name;

But ther as I was wont to highte arcite,

Now highte I philostrate, noght worth a myte.

Allas, thou felle mars! allas, juno!

1560

Thus hath youre ire oure lynage al fordo,

Save oonly me and wrecched palamoun,

That theseus martireth in prisoun.

And over al this, to sleen me outrely,

Love hath his firy dart so brennyngly

1565

Ystiked thurgh my trewe, careful herte,

That shapen was my deeth erst than my sherte.

Ye sleen me with youre eyen, emelye!

Ye been the cause wherfore that I dye.

Of al the remenant of myn oother care

1570

Ne sette I nat the montance of a tare,

So that I koude doon aught to youre plesaunce.

And with that word he fil doun in a traunce

A longe tyme, and after he up sterte.

This palamoun, that thoughte that thurgh his herte

1575

He felte a coold swerd sodeynliche glyde,

For ire he quook, no lenger wolde he byde.

And whan that he had herd arcites tale,

As he were wood, with face deed and pale,

He stirte hym up out of the buskes thikke,

1580

And seide: arcite, false traytour wikke,

Now artow hent, that lovest my lady so,

For whom that I have al this peyne and wo,

And art my blood, and to my conseil sworn,

As I ful ofte have told thee heerbiforn,

1585

And hast byjaped heere duc theseus,

And falsly chaunged hast thy name thus!

I wol be deed, or elles thou shalt dye.

Thou shalt nat love my lady emelye,

But I wol love hire oonly and namo;

1590

For I am palamon, thy mortal foo.

And though that I no wepene have in this place,

But out of prison am astert by grace,

I drede noght that outher thow shalt dye,

Or thow ne shalt nat loven emelye.

1595

Chees which thou wolt, for thou shalt nat asterte!

This arcite, with ful despitous herte,

Whan he hym knew, and hadde his tale herd,

As fiers as leon pulled out his swerd,

And seyde thus: by God that sit above,

1600

Nere it that thou art sik and wood for love,

And eek that thow no wepne hast in this place,

Thou sholdest nevere out of this grove pace,

That thou ne sholdest dyen of myn hond.

For I defye the seurete and the bond

1605

Which that thou seist that I have maad to thee.

What, verray fool, thynk wel that love is free,

And I wol love hire maugree al thy myght!

But for as muche thou art a worthy knyght;

And wilnest to darreyne hire by bataille,

1610

Have heer my trouthe, tomorwe I wol nat faille,

Withoute wityng of any oother wight,

That heere I wol be founden as a knyght,

And bryngen harneys right ynough for thee;

And ches the beste, and leef the worste for me.

1615

And mete and drynke this nyght wol I brynge

Ynough for thee, and clothes for thy beddynge.

And if so be that thou my lady wynne,

And sle me in this wode ther I am inne,

Thow mayst wel have thy lady as for me.

1620

This palamon answerde, I graunte it thee.

And thus they been departed til amorwe,

Whan ech of hem had leyd his feith to borwe.

O cupide, out of alle charitee!

O regne, that wolt no felawe have with thee!

1625

Ful sooth is seyd that love ne lordshipe

Wol noght, his thankes, have no felaweshipe.

Wel fynden that arcite and palamoun.

Arcite is riden anon unto the toun,

And on the morwe, er it were dayes light,

1630

Ful prively two harneys hath he dight,

Bothe suffisaunt and mete to darreyne

The bataille in the feeld bitwix hem tweyne;

And on his hors, allone as he was born,

He carieth al the harneys hym biforn.

1635

And in the grove, at tyme and place yset,

This arcite and this palamon ben met.

Tho chaungen gan the colour in hir face,

Right as the hunters in the regne of trace,

That stondeth at the gappe with a spere,

1640

Whan hunted is the leon or the bere,

And hereth hym come russhyyng in the greves,

And breketh bothe bowes and the leves,

And thynketh, heere cometh my mortal enemy!

Withoute faille, he moot be deed, or I;

1645

For outher I moot sleen hym at the gappe,

Or he moot sleen me, if that me myshappe, –

So ferden they in chaungyng of hir hewe,

As fer as everich of hem oother knewe.

Ther nas no good day, ne no saluyng,

1650

But streight, withouten word or rehersyng,

Everich of hem heelp for to armen oother

As freendly as he were his owene brother;

And after that, with sharpe speres stronge

They foynen ech at oother wonder longe.

1655

Thou myghtest wene that this palamon

In his fightyng were a wood leon,

And as a crueel tigre was arcite;

As wilde bores gonne they to smyte,

That frothen whit as foom for ire wood.

1660

Up to the ancle foghte they in hir blood.

And in this wise I lete hem fightyng dwelle,

And forth I wole of theseus yow telle.

The destinee, ministre general,

That executeth in the world over al

1665

The purveiaunce that God hath seyn biforn,

So strong it is that, though the world had sworn

The contrarie of a thyng by ye or nay,

Yet somtyme it shal fallen on a day

That falleth nat eft withinne a thousand yeer.

1670

For certeinly, oure appetites heer,

Be it of werre, or pees, or hate, or love,

Al is this reuled by the sighte above.

This mene I now by myghty theseus,

That for to hunten is so desirus,

1675

And namely at the grete hert in may,

That in his bed ther daweth hym no day

That he nys clad, and redy for to ryde

With hunte and horn and houndes hym bisyde.

For in his huntyng hath he swich delit

1680

That it is al his joye and appetit

To been hymself the grete hertes bane,

For after mars he serveth now dyane.

Cleer was the day, as I have toold er this,

And theseus with alle joye and blis,

1685

With his ypolita, the faire queene,

And emelye, clothed al in grene,

On huntyng be they riden roially.

And to the grove that stood ful faste by,

In which ther was an hert, as men hym tolde,

1690

Duc theseus the streighte wey hath holde.

And to the launde he rideth hym ful right,

For thider was the hert wont have his flight,

And over a brook, and so forth on his weye.

This duc wol han a cours at hym or tweye

1695

With houndes swiche as that hym list comaunde.

And whan this duc was come unto the launde,

Under the sonne he looketh, and anon

He was war of arcite and palamon,

That foughten breme, as it were bores two.

1700

The brighte swerdes wenten to and fro

So hidously that with the leeste strook

It semed as it wolde felle an ook.

But what they were, no thyng he ne woot.

This duc his courser with his spores smoot,

1705

And at a stert he was bitwix hem two,

And pulled out a swerd, and cride, hoo!

Namoore, up peyne of lesynge of youre heed!

By myghty mars, he shal anon be deed

That smyteth any strook that I may seen.

1710

But telleth me what myster men ye been,

That been so hardy for to fighten heere

Withouten juge or oother officere,

As it were in a lystes roially.

This palamon answerde hastily,

1715

And seyde, sire, what nedeth wordes mo?

We have the deeth disserved bothe two.

Two woful wrecches been we, two caytyves,

That been encombred of oure owene lyves;

And as thou art a rightful lord and juge,

1720

Ne yif us neither mercy ne refuge,

But sle me first, for seinte charitee!

But sle my felawe eek as wel as me;

Or sle hym first, for though thow knowest it lite,

This is thy mortal foo, this is arcite,

1725

That fro thy lond is banysshed on his heed,

For which he hath deserved to be deed.

For this is he that cam unto thy gate

And seyde that he highte philostrate.

Thus hath he japed thee ful many a yer,

1730

And thou hast maked hym thy chief squier;

And this is he that loveth emelye.

For sith the day is come that I shal dye,

I make pleynly my confessioun

That I am thilke woful palamoun

1735

That hath thy prisoun broken wikkedly.

I am thy mortal foo, and it am I

That loveth so hoote emelye the brighte

That I wol dye present in hir sighte.

Wherfore I axe deeth and my juwise;

1740

But sle my felawe in the same wise,

For bothe han we deserved to be slayn.

This worthy duc answerde anon agayn,

And seyde, this is a short conclusioun.

Youre owene mouth, by youre confessioun,

1745

Hath dampned yow, and I wol it recorde;

It nedeth noght to pyne yow with the corde.

Ye shal be deed, by myghty mars the rede!

The queene anon, for verray wommanhede,

Gan for to wepe, and so dide emelye,

1750

And alle the ladyes in the compaignye.

Greet pitee was it, as it thoughte hem alle,

That evere swich a chaunce sholde falle;

For gentil men they were of greet estaat,

And no thyng but for love was this debaat;

1755

And saugh hir blody woundes wyde and soore,

And alle crieden, bothe lasse and moore,

Have mercy, lord, upon us wommen alle!

And on hir bare knees adoun they falle,

And wolde have kist his feet ther as he stood;

1760

Til at the laste aslaked was his mood,

For pitee renneth soone in gentil herte.

And though he first for ire quook and sterte,

He hath considered shortly, in a clause,

The trespas of hem bothe, and eek the cause,

1765

And although that his ire hir gilt accused,

Yet in his resoun he hem bothe excused,

As thus: he thoghte wel that every man

Wol helpe hymself in love, if that he kan,

And eek delivere hymself out of prisoun.

1770

And eek his herte hadde compassioun

Of wommen, for they wepen evere in oon;

And in his gentil herte he thoughte anon,

And softe unto hymself he seyde, fy

Upon a lord that wol have no mercy,

1775

But been a leon, bothe in word and dede,

To hem that been in repentaunce and drede,

As wel as to a proud despitous man

That wol mayntene that he first bigan.

That lord hath litel of discrecioun,

1780

That in swich cas kan no divisioun,

But weyeth pride and humblesse after oon.

And shortly, whan his ire is thus agoon,

He gan to looken up with eyen lighte,

And spak thise same wordes al on highte:

1785

The God of love, a, benedicite!

How myghty and how greet a lord is he!

Ayeyns his myght ther gayneth none obstacles.

He may be cleped a God for his myracles;

For he kan maken, at his owene gyse,

1790

Of everich herte as that hym list divyse.

Lo heere this arcite and this palamoun,

That quitly weren out of my prisoun,

And myghte han lyved in thebes roially,

And witen I am hir mortal enemy,

1795

And that hir deth lith in my myght also;

And yet hath love, maugree hir eyen two,

Broght hem hyder bothe for to dye.

Now looketh, is nat that an heigh folye?

Who may been a fool, but if he love?

1800

Bihoold, for goddes sake that sit above,

Se how they blede! be they noght wel arrayed?

Thus hath hir lord, the God of love, ypayed

Hir wages and hir fees for hir servyse!

And yet they wenen for to been ful wyse

1805

That serven love, for aught that may bifalle.

But this is yet the beste game of alle,

That she for whom they han this jolitee

Kan hem therfore as muche thank as me.

She woot namoore of al this hoote fare,

1810

By god, than woot a cokkow or an hare!

But all moot ben assayed, hoot and coold;

A man moot ben a fool, or yong or oold, –

I woot it by myself ful yore agon,

For in my tyme a servant was I oon.

1815

And therfore, syn I knowe of loves peyne,

And woot hou soore it kan a man distreyne,

As he that hath ben caught ofte in his laas,

I yow foryeve al hoolly this trespaas,

At requeste of the queene, that kneleth heere,

1820

And eek of emelye, my suster deere.

And ye shul bothe anon unto me swere

That nevere mo ye shal my contree dere,

Ne make werre upon me nyght ne day,

But been my freendes in all that ye may.

1825

I yow foryeve this trespas every deel.

And they hym sworen his axyng faire and weel,

And hym of lordshipe and of mercy preyde,

And he hem graunteth grace, and thus he seyde:

To speke of roial lynage and richesse,

1830

Though that she were a queene or a princesse,

Ech of you bothe is worthy, doutelees,

To wedden whan tyme is, but nathelees

I speke as for my suster emelye,

For whom ye have this strif and jalousye.

1835

Ye woot yourself she may nat wedden two

Atones, though ye fighten everemo.

That oon of you, al be hym looth or lief,

He moot go pipen in an yvy leef;

This is to seyn, she may nat now han bothe,

1840

Al be ye never so jalouse ne so wrothe.

And forthy I yow putte in this degree,

That ech of yow shal have his destynee

As hym is shape, and herkneth in what wyse;

Lo heere youre ende of that I shal devyse.

1845

My wyl is this, for plat conclusioun,

Withouten any repplicacioun, –

If that you liketh, take it for the beste:

That everich of you shal goon where hym leste

Frely, withouten raunson or daunger;

1850

And this day fifty wykes, fer ne ner,

Everich of you shal brynge an hundred knyghtes

Armed for lystes up at alle rightes,

Al redy to darreyne hire by bataille.

And this bihote I yow withouten faille,

1855

Upon my trouthe, and as I am a knyght,

That wheither of yow bothe that hath myght, –

This is to seyn, that wheither he or thow

May with his hundred, as I spak of now,

Sleen his contrarie, or out of lystes dryve,

1860

Thanne shal I yeve emelya to wyve

To whom that fortune yeveth so fair a grace.

The lystes shal I maken in this place,

And God so wisly on my soule rewe,

As I shal evene juge been and trewe.

1865

Ye shul noon oother ende with me maken,

That oon of yow ne shal be deed or taken.

And if yow thynketh this is weel ysayd,

Seyeth youre avys, and holdeth you apayd.

This is youre ende and youre conclusioun.

1870

Who looketh lightly now but palamoun?

Who spryngeth up for joye but arcite?

Who kouthe telle, or who kouthe it endite,

The joye that is maked in the place

Whan theseus hath doon so fair a grace?

1875

But doun on knees wente every maner wight,

And thonked hym with al hir herte and myght,

And namely the thebans often sithe.

And thus with good hope and with herte blithe

They taken hir leve, and homward gonne they ride

1880

To thebes, with his olde walles wyde.

Explicit secunda pars.

Sequitur pars tercia.

I trowe men wolde deme it necligence

If I foryete to tellen the dispence

Of theseus, that gooth so bisily

To maken up the lystes roially,

1885

That swich a noble theatre as it was,

I dar wel seyen in this world ther nas.

The circuit a myle was aboute,

Walled of stoon, and dyched al withoute.

Round was the shap, in manere of compas,

1890

Ful of degrees, the heighte of sixty pas,

That whan a man was set on o degree,

He letted nat his felawe for to see.

Estward ther stood a gate of marbul whit,

Westward right swich another in the opposit.

1895

And shortly to concluden, swich a place

Was noon in erthe, as in so litel space;

For in the lond ther was no crafty man

That geometrie or ars-metrike kan,

Ne portreyour, ne kervere of ymages,

1900

That theseus ne yaf him mete and wages,

The theatre for to maken and devyse.

And for to doon his ryte and sacrifise,

He estward hath, upon the gate above,

In worshipe of venus, goddesse of love,

1905

Doon make an auter and an oratorie;

And on the gate westward, in memorie

Of mars, he maked hath right swich another,

That coste largely of gold a fother.

And northward, in a touret on the wal,

1910

Of alabastre whit and reed coral,

An oratorie, riche for to see,

In worshipe of dyane of chastitee,

Hath theseus doon wroght in noble wyse.

But yet hadde I foryeten to devyse

1915

The noble kervyng and the portreitures,

The shap, the contenaunce, and the figures,

That weren in thise oratories thre.

First in the temple of venus maystow se

Wroght on the wal, ful pitous to biholde,

1920

The broken slepes, and the sikes colde,

The sacred teeris, and the waymentynge,

The firy strokes of the desirynge

That loves servantz in this lyf enduren;

The othes that hir covenantz assuren;

1925

Plesaunce and hope, desir, foolhardynesse,

Beautee and youthe, bauderie, richesse,

Charmes and force, lesynges, flaterye,

Despense, bisynesse, and jalousye,

That wered of yelewe gooldes a gerland,

1930

And a cokkow sittynge on hir hand;

Festes, instrumentz, caroles, daunces,

Lust and array, and alle the circumstaunces

Of love, which that I rekned and rekne shal,

By ordre weren peynted on the wal,

1935

And mo than I kan make of mencioun.

For soothly al the mount of citheroun,

Ther venus hath hir principal dwellynge,

Was shewed on the wal in portreyynge,

With al the gardyn and the lustynesse.

1940

Nat was foryeten the porter, ydelnesse,

Ne narcisus the faire of yore agon,

Ne yet the folye of kyng salomon,

Ne yet the grete strengthe of ercules –

Th-enchauntementz of medea and circes –

1945

Ne of turnus, with the hardy fiers corage,

The riche cresus, kaytyf in servage.

Thus may ye seen that wysdom ne richesse,

Beautee ne sleighte, strengthe ne hardynesse,

Ne may with venus holde champartie,

1950

For as hir list the world than may she gye.

Lo, alle thise folk so caught were in hir las,

Til they for wo ful ofte seyde allas!

Suffiseth heere ensamples oon or two,

And though I koude rekene a thousand mo.

1955

The statue of venus, glorious for to se,

Was naked, fletynge in the large see,

And fro the navele doun al covered was

With wawes grene, and brighte as any glas.

A citole in hir right hand hadde she,

1960

And on hir heed, ful semely for to se,

A rose gerland, fressh and wel smellynge;

Above hir heed hir dowves flikerynge.

Biforn hire stood hir sone cupido;

Upon his shuldres wynges hadde he two,

1965

And blynd he was, as it is often seene;

A bowe he bar and arwes brighte and kene.

Why sholde I noght as wel eek telle yow al

The portreiture that was upon the wal

Withinne the temple of myghty mars the rede?

1970

Al peynted was the wal, in lengthe and brede,

Lyk to the estres of the grisly place

That highte the grete temple of mars in trace,

In thilke colde, frosty regioun

Ther as mars hath his sovereyn mansioun.

1975

First on the wal was peynted a forest,

In which ther dwelleth neither man ne best,

With knotty, knarry, bareyne trees olde,

Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde,

In which ther ran a rumbel in a swough,

1980

As though a storm sholde bresten every bough.

And dounward from an hille, under a bente,

Ther stood the temple of mars armypotente,

Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entree

Was long and streit, and gastly for to see.

1985

And therout came a rage and swich a veze

That it made al the gate for to rese.

The northren lyght in at the dores shoon,

For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noon,

Thurgh which men myghten any light discerne.

1990

The dore was al of adamant eterne,

Yclenched overthwart and endelong

With iren tough; and for to make it strong,

Every pyler, the temple to sustene,

Was tonne-greet, of iren bright and shene.

1995

Ther saugh I first the derke ymaginyng

Of felonye, and al the compassyng;

The crueel ire, reed as any gleede;

The pykepurs, and eek the pale drede;

The smylere with the knyf under the cloke;

2000

The shepne brennynge with the blake smoke;

The tresoun of the mordrynge in the bedde;

The open werre, with woundes al bibledde;

Contek, with blody knyf and sharp manace.

Al ful of chirkyng was that sory place.

2005

The sleere of hymself yet saugh I ther, –

His herte-blood hath bathed al his heer;

The nayl ydryven in the shode a-nyght;

The colde deeth, with mouth gapyng upright.

Amyddes of the temple sat meschaunce,

2010

With disconfort and sory contenaunce.

Yet saugh I woodnesse, laughynge in his rage,

Armed compleint, outhees, and fiers outrage;

The careyne in the busk, with throte ycorve;

A thousand slayn, and nat of qualm ystorve;

2015

The tiraunt, with the pray by force yraft;

The toun destroyed, ther was no thyng laft.

Yet saugh I brent the shippes hoppesteres;

The hunte strangled with the wilde beres;

The sowe freten the child right in the cradel;

2020

The cook yscalded, for al his longe ladel.

Noght was foryeten by the infortune of marte

The cartere overryden with his carte:

Under the wheel ful lowe he lay adoun.

Ther were also, of martes divisioun,

2025

The barbour, and the bocher, and the smyth,

That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his styth.

And al above, depeynted in a tour,

Saugh I conquest, sittynge in greet honour,

With the sharpe swerd over his heed

2030

Hangynge by a soutil twynes threed.

Depeynted was the slaughtre of julius,

Of grete nero, and of antonius;

Al be that thilke tyme they were unborn,

Yet was hir deth depeynted ther-biforn

2035

By manasynge of mars, right by figure.

So was it shewed in that portreiture,

As is depeynted in the sterres above

Who shal be slayn or elles deed for love.

Suffiseth oon ensample in stories olde;

2040

I may nat rekene hem alle though I wolde.

The statue of mars upon a carte stood

Armed, and looked grym as he were wood;

And over his heed ther shynen two figures

Of sterres, that been cleped in scriptures,

2045

That oon puella, that oother rubeus –

This God of armes was arrayed thus.

A wolf ther stood biforn hym at his feet

With eyen rede, and of a man he eet;

With soutil pencel depeynted was this storie

2050

In redoutynge of mars and of his glorie.

Now to the temple of dyane the chaste,

As shortly as I kan, I wol me haste,

To telle yow al the descripsioun.

Depeynted been the walles up and doun

2055

Of huntyng and of shamefast chastitee.

Ther saugh I how woful calistopee,

Whan that diane agreved was with here,

Was turned from a womman til a bere,

And after was she maad the loode-sterre;

2060

Thus was it peynted, I kan sey yow no ferre.

Hir sone is eek a sterre, as men may see.

Ther saugh I dane, yturned til a tree, –

I mene nat the goddesse diane,

But penneus doghter, which that highte dane.

2065

Ther saugh I attheon an hert ymaked,

For vengeaunce that he saugh diane al naked;

I saugh how that his houndes have hym caught

And freeten hym, for that they knewe hym naught.

Yet peynted was a litel forther moor

2070

How atthalante hunted the wilde boor,

And meleagre, and many another mo,

For which dyane wroghte hym care and wo.

Ther saugh I many another wonder storie,

The which me list nat drawen to memorie.

2075

This goddesse on an hert ful hye seet,

With smale houndes al aboute hir feet;

And undernethe hir feet she hadde a moone, –

Wexynge it was and sholde wanye soone.

In gaude grene hir statue clothed was,

2080

With bowe in honde, and arwes in a cas.

Hir eyen caste she ful lowe adoun,

Ther pluto hath his derke regioun.

A womman travaillynge was hire biforn;

But for hir child so longe was unborn,

2085

Ful pitously lucyna gan she calle,

And seyde, help, for thou mayst best of alle!

Wel koude he peynten lifly that it wroghte;

With many a floryn he the hewes boghte.

Now been thise lystes maad, and theseus,

2090

That at his grete cost arrayed thus

The temples and the theatre every deel,

Whan it was doon, hym lyked wonder weel.

But stynte I wole of theseus a lite,

And speke of palamon and of arcite.

2095

The day approcheth of hir retournynge,

That everich sholde an hundred knyghtes brynge

The bataille to darreyne, as I yow tolde.

And til atthenes, hir covenant for to holde,

Hath everich of hem broght an hundred knyghtes,

2100

Wel armed for the werre at alle rightes.

And sikerly ther trowed many a man

That nevere, sithen that the world bigan,

As for to speke of knyghthod of hir hond,

As fer as God hath maked see or lond,

2105

Nas of so fewe so noble a compaignye.

For every wight that lovede chivalrye,

And wolde, his thankes, han a passant name,

Hath preyed that he myghte been of that game;

And wel was hym that therto chosen was.

2110

For if ther fille tomorwe swich a cas,

Ye knowen wel that every lusty knyght

That loveth paramours and hath his myght,

Were it in engelond or elleswhere,

They wolde, hir thankes, wilnen to be there, –

2115

To fighte for a lady, benedicitee!

It were a lusty sighte for to see.

And right so ferden they with palamon.

With hym ther wenten knyghtes many on;

Som wol ben armed in an haubergeoun,

2120

And in a brestplate and light gypoun;

And som wol have a paire plates large;

And som wol have a pruce sheeld or a targe;

Som wol ben armed on his legges weel,

And have an ax, and som a mace of steel –

2125

Ther is no newe gyse that it nas old.

Armed were they, as I have yow told,

Everych after his opinioun.

Ther maistow seen, comynge with palamoun,

Lygurge hymself, the grete kyng of trace.

2130

Blak was his berd, and manly was his face;

The cercles of his eyen in his heed,

They gloweden bitwixen yelow and reed,

And lik a grifphon looked he aboute,

With kempe heeris on his browes stoute;

2135

His lymes grete, his brawnes harde and stronge,

His shuldres brode, his armes rounde and longe;

And as the gyse was in his contree,

Ful hye upon a chaar of gold stood he,

With foure white boles in the trays.

2140

In stede of cote-armure over his harnays,

With nayles yelewe and brighte as any gold,

He hadde a beres skyn, col-blak for old.

His longe heer was kembd bihynde his bak;

As any ravenes fethere it shoon for blak;

2145

A wrethe of gold, arm-greet, of huge wighte,

Upon his heed, set ful of stones brighte,

Of fyne rubyes and of dyamauntz.

Aboute his chaar ther wenten white alauntz,

Twenty and mo, as grete as any steer,

2150

To hunten at the leoun or the deer,

And folwed hym with mosel faste ybounde,

Colered of gold, and tourettes fyled rounde.

An hundred lordes hadde he in his route,

Armed ful wel, with hertes stierne and stoute.

2155

With arcita, in stories as men fynde,

The grete emetreus, the kyng of inde,

Upon a steede bay trapped in steel,

Covered in clooth of gold, dyapred weel,

Cam ridynge lyk the God of armes, mars.

2160

His cote-armure was of clooth of tars

Couched with perles white and rounde and grete;

His sadel was of brend gold newe ybete;

A mantelet upon his shulder hangynge,

Bret-ful of rubyes rede as fyr sparklynge;

2165

His crispe heer lyk rynges was yronne,

And that was yelow, and glytered as the sonne.

His nose was heigh, his eyen bright citryn,

His lippes rounde, his colour was sangwyn;

A fewe frakenes in his face yspreynd,

2170

Bitwixen yelow and somdel blak ymeynd;

And as a leon he his lookyng caste.

Of fyve and twenty yeer his age I caste.

His berd was wel bigonne for to sprynge;

His voys was as a trompe thonderynge.

2175

Upon his heed he wered of laurer grene

A gerland, fressh and lusty for to sene.

Upon his hand he bar for his deduyt

An egle tame, as any lilye whyt.

An hundred lordes hadde he with hym there,

2180

Al armed, save hir heddes, in al hir gere,

Ful richely in alle maner thynges.

For trusteth wel that dukes, erles, kynges

Were gadered in this noble compaignye,

For love and for encrees of chivalrye.

2185

Aboute this kyng ther ran on every part

Ful many a tame leon and leopart.

And in this wise thise lordes, alle and some,

Been on the sonday to the citee come

Aboute pryme, and in the toun alight.

2190

This theseus, this duc, this worthy knyght,

Whan he had broght hem into his citee,

And inned hem, everich at his degree,

He festeth hem, and dooth so greet labour

To esen hem and doon hem al honour,

2195

That yet men wenen that no mannes wit

Of noon estaat ne koude amenden it.

The mynstralcye, the service at the feeste,

The grete yiftes to the meeste and leeste,

The riche array of theseus paleys,

2200

Ne who sat first ne last upon the deys,

What ladyes fairest been or best daunsynge,

Or which of hem kan dauncen best and synge,

Ne who moost felyngly speketh of love;

What haukes sitten on the perche above,

2205

What houndes liggen on the floor adoun, –

Of al this make I now no mencioun,

But al th' effect, that thynketh me the beste.

Now cometh the point, and herkneth if yow leste.

The sonday nyght, er day bigan to sprynge,

2210

Whan palamon the larke herde synge,

(although it nere nat day by houres two,

Yet song the larke) and palamon right tho

With hooly herte and with an heigh corage,

He roos to wenden on his pilgrymage

2215

Unto the blisful citherea benigne, –

I mene venus, honurable and digne.

And in hir houre he walketh forth a pas

Unto the lystes ther hire temple was,

And doun he kneleth, and with humble cheere

2220

And herte soor, he seyde as ye shal heere:

Faireste of faire, o lady myn, venus,

Doughter to jove, and spouse of vulcanus,

Thow gladere of the mount of citheron,

For thilke love thow haddest to adoon,

2225

Have pitee of my bittre teeris smerte,

And taak myn humble preyere at thyn herte.

Allas! I ne have no langage to telle

Th' effectes ne the tormentz of myn helle;

Myn herte may myne harmes nat biwreye;

2230

I am so confus that I kan noght seye

But, – mercy, lady bright, that knowest weele

My thought, and seest what harmes that feele!

Considere al this and rewe upon my soore,

As wisly as I shal for everemoore,

2235

Emforth my myght, thy trewe servant be,

And holden werre alwey with chastitee.

That make I myn avow, so ye me helpe!

I kepe noght of armes for to yelpe,

Ne I ne axe nat tomorwe to have victorie,

2240

Ne renoun in this cas, ne veyne glorie

Of pris of armes blowen up and doun;

But I wolde have fully possessioun

Of emelye, and dye in thy servyse.

Fynd thow the manere hou, and in what wyse:

2245

I recche nat but it may bettre be

To have victorie of hem, or they of me,

So that I have my lady in myne armes.

For though so be that mars is God of armes,

Youre vertu is so greet in hevene above

2250

That if yow list, I shal wel have my love.

Thy temple wol I worshipe everemo,

And on thyn auter, where I ride or go,

I wol doon sacrifice and fires beete.

And if ye wol nat so, my lady sweete,

2255

Thanne preye I thee, tomorwe with a spere

That arcita me thurgh the herte bere.

Thanne rekke I noght, whan I have lost my lyf,

Though that arcita wynne hire to his wyf.

This is th' effect and ende of my preyere:

2260

Yif me my love, thow blisful lady deere.

Whan the orison was doon of palamon,

His sacrifice he dide, and that anon,

Ful pitously, with alle circumstaunces,

Al telle I noght as now his observaunces;

2265

But atte laste the statue of venus shook,

And made a signe, wherby that he took

That his preyere accepted was that day.

For thogh the signe shewed a delay,

Yet wiste he wel that graunted was his boone;

2270

And with glad herte he wente hym hoom ful soone.

The thridde houre inequal that palamon

Bigan to venus temple for to gon,

Up roos the sonne, and up roos emelye,

And to the temple of dyane gan hye.

2275

Hir maydens, that she thider with hire ladde,

Ful redily with hem the fyr they hadde,

Th' encens, the clothes, and the remenant al

That to the sacrifice longen shal;

The hornes fulle of meeth, as was the gyse:

2280

Ther lakked noght to doon hir sacrifise.

Smokynge the temple, ful of clothes faire,

This emelye, with herte debonaire,

Hir body wessh with water of a welle.

But hou she dide hir ryte I dar nat telle,

2285

But it be any thing in general;

And yet it were a game to heeren al.

To hym that meneth wel it were no charge;

But it is good a man been at his large.

Hir brighte heer was kembd, untressed al;

2290

A coroune of a grene ook cerial

Upon hir heed was set ful fair and meete.

Two fyres on the auter gan she beete,

And dide hir thynges, as men may biholde

In stace of thebes and thise bookes olde.

2295

Whan kyndled was the fyr, with pitous cheere

Unto dyane she spak as ye may heere:

O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene,

To whom bothe hevene and erthe and see is sene,

Queene of the regne of pluto derk and lowe,

2300

Goddesse of maydens, that myn herte hast knowe

Ful many a yeer, and woost what I desire,

As keepe me fro thy vengeaunce and thyn ire,

That attheon aboughte cruelly.

Chaste goddesse, wel wostow that I

2305

Desire to ben a mayden al my lyf,

Ne nevere wol I be no love ne wyf.

I am, thow woost, yet of thy compaignye,

A mayde, and love huntynge and venerye,

And for to walken in the wodes wilde,

2310

And noght to ben a wyf and be with childe.

Noght wol I knowe compaignye of man.

Now help me, lady, sith ye may and kan,

For tho thre formes that thou hast in thee.

And palamon, that hath swich love to me,

2315

And eek arcite, that loveth me so soore,

(this grace I preye thee withoute moore)

As sende love and pees bitwixe hem two,

And from me turne awey hir hertes so

That al hire hoote love and hir desir,

2320

And al hir bisy torment, and hir fir

Be queynt, or turned in another place.

And if so be thou wolt nat do me grace,

Or if my destynee be shapen so

That I shal nedes have oon of hem two,

2325

As sende me hym that moost desireth me.

Bihoold, goddesse of clene chastitee,

The bittre teeris that on my chekes falle.

Syn thou art mayde and kepere of us alle,

My maydenhede thou kepe and wel conserve

2330

And whil I lyve, a mayde I wol thee serve.

The fires brenne upon the auter cleere,

Whil emelye was thus in hir preyere.

But sodeynly she saugh a sighte queynte,

For right anon oon of the fyres queynte,

2335

And quyked agayn, and after that anon

That oother fyr was queynt and al agon;

And as it queynte it made a whistelynge,

As doon thise wete brondes in hir brennynge,

And at the brondes ende out ran anon

2340

As it were blody dropes many oon;

For which so soore agast was emelye

That she was wel ny mad, and gan to crye,

For she ne wiste what it signyfied;

But oonly for the feere thus hath she cried,

2345

And weep that it was pitee for to heere.

And therwithal dyane gan appeere,

With bowe in honde, right as an hunteresse,

And seyde, doghter, stynt thyn hevynesse.

Among the goddes hye it is affermed,

2350

And by eterne word writen and confermed,

Thou shalt ben wedded unto oon of tho

That han for thee so muchel care and wo;

But unto which of hem I may nat telle.

Farwel, for I ne may no lenger dwelle.

2355

The fires which that on myn auter brenne

Shulle thee declaren, er that thou go henne,

Thyn aventure of love, as in this cas.

And with that word, the arwes in the caas

Of the goddesse clateren faste and rynge,

2360

And forth she wente, and made a vanysshynge;

For which this emelye astoned was,

And seyde, what amounteth this, allas?

I putte me in thy proteccioun,

Dyane, and in thy disposicioun.

2365

And hoom she goth anon the nexte weye.

This is th' effect; ther is namoore to seye.

The nexte houre of mars folwynge this,

Arcite unto the temple walked is

Of fierse mars, to doon his sacrifise,

2370

With alle the rytes of his payen wyse.

With pitous herte and heigh devocioun,

Right thus to mars he seyde his orisoun:

O stronge god, that in the regnes colde

Of trace honoured art and lord yholde,

2375

And hast in every regne and every lond

Of armes al the brydel in thyn hond,

And hem fortunest as thee lyst devyse,

Accepte of me my pitous sacrifise.

If so be that my youthe may deserve,

2380

And that my myght be worthy for to serve

Thy godhede, that I may been oon of thyne,

Thanne preye I thee to rewe upon my pyne.

For thilke peyne, and thilke hoote fir

In which thow whilom brendest for desir,

2385

Whan that thow usedest the beautee

Of faire, yonge, fresshe venus free,

And haddest hire in armes at thy wille –

Although thee ones on a tyme mysfille,

Whan vulcanus hadde caught thee in his las,

2390

And foond thee liggynge by his wyf, allas! –

For thilke sorwe that was in thyn herte,

Have routhe as wel upon my peynes smerte.

I am yong and unkonnynge, as thow woost,

And, as I trowe, with love offended moost

2395

That evere was any lyves creature;

For she that dooth me al this wo endure

Ne reccheth nevere wher I synke or fleete.

And wel I woot, er she me mercy heete,

I moot with strengthe wynne hire in the place,

2400

And, wel I woot, withouten help or grace

Of thee, ne may my strengthe noght availle.

Thanne help me, lord, tomorwe in my bataille,

For thilke fyr that whilom brente thee,

As wel as thilke fyr now brenneth me,

2405

And do that I tomorwe have victorie.

Myn be the travaille, and thyn be the glorie!

Thy sovereyn temple wol I moost honouren

Of any place, and alwey moost labouren

In thy plesaunce and in thy craftes stronge,

2410

And in thy temple I wol my baner honge

And alle the armes of my compaignye;

And everemo, unto that day I dye,

Eterne fir I wol bifore thee fynde.

And eek to this avow I wol me bynde:

2415

My beerd, myn heer, that hongeth long adoun,

That nevere yet ne felte offensioun

Of rasour nor of shere, I wol thee yive,

And ben thy trewe servant whil I lyve.

Now, lord, have routhe upon my sorwes soore;

2420

Yif me victorie, I aske thee namoore.

The preyere stynt of arcita the stronge,

The rynges on the temple dore that honge,

And eek the dores, clatereden ful faste,

Of which arcita somwhat hym agaste.

2425

The fyres brenden upon the auter brighte,

That it gan al the temple for to lighte;

A sweete smel the ground anon up yaf,

And arcita anon his hand up haf,

And moore encens into the fyr he caste,

2430

With othere rytes mo; and atte laste

The statue of mars bigan his hauberk rynge;

And with that soun he herde a murmurynge

Ful lowe and dym, and seyde thus, victorie!

For which he yaf to mars honour and glorie.

2435

And thus with joye and hope wel to fare

Arcite anon unto his in is fare,

As fayn as fowel is of the brighte sonne.

And right anon swich strif ther is bigonne,

For thilke grauntyng, in the hevene above,

2440

Bitwixe venus, the goddesse of love,

And mars, the stierne God armypotente,

That juppiter was bisy it to stente;

Til that the pale saturnus the colde,

That knew so manye of aventures olde,

2445

Foond in his olde experience an art

That he ful soone hath plesed every part.

As sooth is seyd, elde hath greet avantage;

In elde is bothe wysdom and usage;

Men may the olde atrenne, and noght atrede.

2450

Saturne anon, to stynten strif and drede,

Al be it that it is agayn his kynde,

Of al this strif he gan remedie fynde.

My deere doghter venus, quod saturne,

My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne,

2455

Hath moore power than woot any man.

Myn is the drenchyng in the see so wan;

Myn is the prison in the derke cote;

Myn is the stranglyng and hangyng by the throte,

The murmure and the cherles rebellyng,

2460

The groynynge, and the pryvee empoysonyng;

I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun,

Whil I dwelle in the signe of the leoun.

Myn is the ruyne of the hye halles,

The fallynge of the toures and of the walles

2465

Upon the mynour or the carpenter.

I slow sampsoun, shakynge the piler;

And myne be the maladyes colde,

The derke tresons, and the castes olde;

My lookyng is the fader of pestilence.

2470

Now weep namoore, I shal doon diligence

That palamon, that is thyn owene knyght,

Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight.

Though mars shal helpe his knyght, yet nathelees

Bitwixe yow ther moot be som tyme pees,

2475

Al be ye noght of o compleccioun,

That causeth al day swich divisioun.

I am thyn aiel, redy at thy wille;

Weep now namoore, I wol thy lust fulfille.

Now wol I stynten of the goddes above,

2480

Of mars, and of venus, goddesse of love,

And telle yow as pleynly as I kan

The grete effect, for which that I bygan.

Explicit tercia pars.

Sequitur pars quarta.

Greet was the feeste in atthenes that day,

And eek the lusty seson of that may

2485

Made every wight to been in swich plesaunce

That al that monday justen they and daunce,

And spenden it in venus heigh servyse.

But by the cause that they sholde ryse

Eerly, for to seen the grete fight,

2490

Unto hir reste wenten they at nyght.

And on the morwe, whan that day gan sprynge,

Of hors and harneys noyse and claterynge

Ther was in hostelryes al aboute;

And to the paleys rood ther many a route

2495

Of lordes upon steedes and palfreys.

Ther maystow seen devisynge of harneys

So unkouth and so riche, and wroght so weel

Of goldsmythrye, of browdynge, and of steel;

The sheeldes brighte, testeres, and trappures,

2500

Gold-hewen helmes, hauberkes, cote-armures;

Lordes in parementz on hir courseres,

Knyghtes of retenue, and eek squieres

Nailynge the speres, and helmes bokelynge;

Giggynge of sheeldes, with layneres lacynge

2505

(there as nede is they weren no thyng ydel);

The fomy steedes on the golden brydel

Gnawynge, and faste the armurers also

With fyle and hamer prikynge to and fro;

Yemen on foote, and communes many oon

2510

With fyle and hamer prikynge to and fro;

Pypes, trompes, nakers, clariounes,

That in the bataille blowen blody sounes;

The paleys ful of peple up and doun,

Heere thre, ther ten, holdynge hir questioun,

2515

Dyvynynge of thise thebane knyghtes two.

Somme seyden thus, somme seyde it shal be so;

Somme helden with hym with the blake berd,

Somme with the balled, somme with the thikke herd;

Somme seyde he looked grymme, and he wolde fighte;

2520

He hath a sparth of twenty pound of wighte.

Thus was the halle ful of divynynge,

Longe after that the sonne gan to sprynge.

The grete theseus, that of his sleep awaked

With mynstralcie and noyse that was maked,

2525

Heeld yet the chambre of his paleys riche,

Til that the thebane knyghtes, bothe yliche

Honured, were into the paleys fet.

Duc theseus was at a wyndow set,

Arrayed right as he were a God in trone.

2530

The peple preesseth thiderward ful soone

Hym for to seen, and doon heigh reverence,

And eek to herkne his heste and his sentence.

And heraud on a scaffold made an oo!

Til al the noyse of peple was ydo,

2535

And whan he saugh the peple of noyse al stille,

Tho shewed he the myghty dukes wille.

The lord hath of his heigh discrecioun

Considered that it were destruccioun

To gentil blood to fighten in the gyse

2540

Of mortal bataille now in this emprise.

Wherfore, to shapen that they shal nat dye,

He wol his firste purpos modifye.

No man therfore, up peyne of los of lyf,

No maner shot, ne polax, ne short knyf

2545

Into the lystes sende, or thider brynge;

Ne short swerd, for to stoke with poynt bitynge,

No man ne drawe, ne bere it by his syde.

Ne no man shal unto his felawe ryde

But o cours, with a sharpe ygrounde spere;

2550

Foyne, if hym list, on foote, hymself to were.

And he that is at meschief shal be take

And noght slayn, but be broght unto the stake

That shal ben ordeyned on either syde;

But thider he shal by force, and there abyde.

2555

And if so falle the chieftayn be take

On outher syde, or elles sleen his make,

No lenger shal the turneiynge laste.

God spede you! gooth forth, and ley on faste!

With long swerd and with maces fighteth youre fille.

2560

Gooth now youre wey, this is the lordes wille.

The voys of peple touchede the hevene,

So loude cride they with murie stevene,

God save swich a lord, that is so good,

He wilneth no destruccion of blood!

2565

Up goon the trompes and the melodye,

And to the lystes rit the compaignye,

By ordinance, thurghout the citee large,

Hanged with clooth of gold, and nat with sarge.

Ful lik a lord this noble duc gan ryde,

2570

Thise two thebans upon either syde;

And after rood the queene, and emelye,

And after that another compaignye

Of oon and oother, after hir degree.

And thus they passen thurghout the citee,

2575

And to the lystes come they by tyme.

It nas nat of the day yet fully pryme

Whan set was theseus ful riche and hye,

Ypolita the queene, and emelye,

And othere ladys in degrees aboute.

2580

Unto the seetes preesseth al the route.

And westward, thurgh the gates under marte,

Arcite, and eek the hondred of his parte,

With baner reed is entred right anon;

And in that selve moment palamon

2585

Is under venus, estward in the place,

With baner whyt, and hardy chiere and face.

In al the world, to seken up and doun,

So evene, withouten variacioun,

Ther nere swiche compaignyes tweye;

2590

For ther was noon so wys that koude seye

That any hadde of oother avauntage

Of worthynesse, ne of estaat, ne age,

So evene were they chosen, for to gesse.

And in two renges faire they hem dresse.

2595

Whan that hir names rad were everichon,

That in hir nombre gyle were ther noon,

Tho were the gates shet, and cried was loude:

Do now youre devoir, yonge knyghtes proude!

The heraudes lefte hir prikyng up and doun;

2600

Now ryngen trompes loude and clarioun.

Ther is namoore to seyn, but west and est

In goon the speres ful sadly in arrest;

In gooth the sharpe spore into the syde.

Ther seen men who kan juste and who kan ryde;

2605

Ther shyveren shaftes upon sheeldes thikke;

He feeleth thurgh the herte-spoon the prikke.

Up spryngen speres twenty foot on highte;

Out goon the swerdes as the silver brighte;

The helmes they tohewen and toshrede;

2610

Out brest the blood with stierne stremes rede;

With myghty maces the bones they tobreste.

He thurgh the thikkeste of the throng gan threste;

Ther stomblen steedes stronge, and doun gooth al;

He rolleth under foot as dooth a bal;

2615

He foyneth on his feet with his tronchoun,

And he hym hurtleth with hors adoun;

He thurgh the body is hurt and sither take,

Maugree his heed, and broght unto the stake:

As forward was, right there he moste abyde.

2620

Another lad is on that oother syde.

And some tyme dooth hem theseus to reste,

Hem to refresshe and drynken, if hem leste.

Ful ofte a day han thise thebanes two

Togydre ymet, and wroght his felawe wo;

2625

Unhorsed hath ech oother of hem tweye.

Ther nas no tygre in the vale of galgopheye,

Whan that hir whelp is stole whan it is lite,

So crueel on the hunte as is arcite

For jelous herte upon this palamon.

2630

Ne in belmarye ther nys so fel leon,

That hunted is, or for his hunger wood,

Ne of his praye desireth so the blood,

As palamon to sleen his foo arcite.

The jelous strokes on hir helmes byte;

2635

Out renneth blood on bothe hir sydes rede.

Som tyme an ende ther is of every dede.

For er the sonne unto the reste wente,

The stronge kyng emetreus gan hente

This palamon, as he faught with arcite,

2640

And made his swerd depe in his flessh to byte;

And by the force of twenty is he take

Unyolden, and ydrawe unto the stake.

And in the rescus of this palamoun

The stronge kyng lygurge is born adoun,

2645

And kyng emetreus, for al his strengthe,

Is born out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe,

So hitte him palamoun er he were take;

But al for noght, he was broght to the stake.

His hardy herte myghte hym helpe naught:

2650

He moste abyde, whan that he was caught,

By force and eek by composicioun.

Who sorweth now but woful palamoun,

That moot namoore goon agayn to fighte?

And whan that theseus hadde seyn this sighte,

2655

Unto the folk that foghten thus echon

He cryde, hoo! namoore, for it is doon!

I wol be trewe juge, and no partie.

Arcite of thebes shal have emelie,

That by his fortune hath hire faire ywonne.

2660

Anon ther is a noyse of peple bigonne

For joye of this, so loude and heighe withalle,

It semed that the lystes sholde falle.

What kan now faire venus doon above?

What seith she now? what dooth this queene of love,

2665

But wepeth so, for wantynge of hir wille,

Til that hir teeres in the lystes fille?

She seyde, I am ashamed, douteless.

Saturnus seyde, doghter, hoold thy pees!

Mars hath his wille, his knyght hath al his boone,

2670

And, by myn heed, thow shalt been esed soone.

The trompours, with the loude mynstralcie,

The heraudes, that ful loude yelle and crie,

Been in hire wele for joye of daun arcite.

But herkneth me, and stynteth noyse a lite,

2675

Which a myracle ther bifel anon.

This fierse arcite hath of his helm ydon,

And on a courser, for to shewe his face,

He priketh endelong the large place

Lokynge upward upon this emelye;

2680

And she agayn hym caste a freendlich ye

(for wommen, as to speken in comune,

Thei folwen alle the favour of fortune)

And was al his chiere, as in his herte.

Out of the ground a furie infernal sterte,

2685

From pluto sent at requeste of saturne,

For which his hors for fere gan to turne,

And leep aside, and foundred as he leep;

And er that arcite may taken keep,

He pighte hym on the pomel of his heed,

2690

That in the place he lay as he were deed,

His brest tobrosten with his sadel-bowe.

As blak he lay as any cole or crowe,

So was the blood yronnen in his face.

Anon he was yborn out of the place,

2695

With herte soor, to theseus paleys.

Tho was he korven out of his harneys,

And in a bed ybrought ful faire and blyve;

For he was yet in memorie and alyve,

And alwey criynge after emelye.

2700

Duc theseus, with al his compaignye,

Is comen hoom to atthenes his citee,

With alle blisse and greet solempnitee.

Al be it that this aventure was falle,

He nolde noght disconforten hem alle.

2705

Men seyde eek that arcite shal nat dye;

He shal been heeled of his maladye.

And of another thyng they weren as fayn,

That of hem alle was ther noon yslayn,

Al were they soore yhurt, and namely oon,

2710

That with a spere was thirled his brest boon.

To othere woundes and to broken armes

Somme hadden salves, and somme hadden charmes;

Fermacies of herbes, and eek save

They dronken, for they wolde hir lymes have.

2715

For which this noble duc, as he wel kan,

Conforteth and honoureth every man,

And made revel al the longe nyght

Unto the straunge lordes, as was right.

Ne ther was holden no disconfitynge

2720

But as a justes, or a tourneiynge;

For soothly ther was no disconfiture.

For fallyng nys nat but an aventure,

Ne to be lad by force unto the stake

Unyolden, and with twenty knyghtes take,

2725

O persone allone, withouten mo,

And haryed forth by arme, foot, and too,

And eke his steede dryven forth with staves

With footmen, bothe yemen and eek knaves, –

It nas arretted hym no vileynye;

2730

Ther may no man clepen it cowardye.

For which anon duc theseus leet crye,

To stynten alle rancour and envye,

The gree as wel of o syde as of oother,

And eyther syde ylik as ootheres brother;

2735

And yaf hem yiftes after hir degree,

And fully heeld a feeste dayes three,

And conveyed the kynges worthily

Out of his toun a journee largely.

And hoom wente every man the righte way.

2740

Ther was namoore but fare wel, have good day!

Of this bataille I wol namoore endite,

But speke of palamon and of arcite.

Swelleth the brest of arcite, and the soore

Encreesseth at his herte moore and moore.

2745

The clothered blood, for any lechecraft,

Corrupteth, and is in his bouk ylaft,

That neither veyne-blood, ne ventusynge,

Ne drynke of herbes may ben his helpynge.

The vertu expulsif, or animal,

2750

Fro thilke vertu cleped natural

Ne may the venym voyden ne expelle.

The pipes of his longes gonne to swelle,

And every lacerte in his brest adoun

Is shent with venym and corrupcioun.

2755

Hym gayneth neither, for to gete his lif,

Vomyt upward, ne dounward laxatif.

Al is tobrosten thilke regioun;

Nature hath now no dominacioun.

And certeinly, ther nature wol nat wirche,

2760

Fare wel phisik! go ber the man to chirche!

This al and som, that arcita moot dye;

For which he sendeth after emelye,

And palamon, that was his cosyn deere.

Thanne seyde he thus, as ye shal after heere:

2765

Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte

Declare o point of alle my sorwes smerte

To yow, my lady, that I love moost;

But I biquethe the servyce of my goost

To yow aboven every creature,

2770

Syn that my lyf may no lenger dure.

Allas, the wo! allas, the peynes stronge,

That I for yow have suffred, and so longe!

Allas, the deeth! allas, myn emelye!

Allas, departynge of oure compaignye!

2775

Allas, myn hertes queene! allas, my wyf!

Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf!

What is this world? what asketh men to have?

Now with his love, now in his colde grave

Allone, withouten any compaignye.

2780

Fare wel, my sweete foo, myn emelye!

And softe taak me in youre armes tweye,

For love of god, and herkneth what I seye.

I have heer with my cosyn palamon

Had strif and rancour many a day agon

2785

For love of yow, and for my jalousye.

And juppiter so wys my soule gye,

To speken of a servaunt proprely,

With alle circumstances trewely –

That is to seyen, trouthe, honour, knyghthede,

2790

Wysdom, humblesse, estaat, and heigh kynrede,

Fredom, and al that longeth to that art –

So juppiter have of my soule part,

As in this world right now ne knowe I non

So worthy to ben loved as palamon,

2795

That serveth yow, and wol doon al his lyf.

And if that evere ye shul ben a wyf,

Foryet nat palamon, the gentil man.

And with that word his speche faille gan,

For from his feet up to his brest was come

2800

The coold of deeth, that hadde hym overcome,

And yet mooreover, for in his armes two

The vital strengthe is lost and al ago.

Oonly the intellect, withouten moore,

That dwelled in his herte syk and soore,

2805

Gan faillen whan the herte felte deeth.

Dusked his eyen two, and failled breeth,

But on his lady yet caste he his ye;

His laste word was, mercy, emelye!

His spirit chaunged hous and wente ther,

2810

As I cam nevere, I kan nat tellen wher.

Therfore I stynte, I nam no divinistre;

Of soules fynde I nat in this registre,

Ne me ne list thilke opinions to telle

Of hem, though that they writen wher they dwelle.

2815

Arcite is coold, ther mars his soule gye!

Now wol I speken forth of emelye.

Shrighte emelye, and howleth palamon,

And theseus his suster took anon

Swownynge, and baar hire fro the corps away.

2820

What helpeth it to tarien forth the day

To tellen how she weep bothe eve and morwe?

For in swich cas wommen have swich sorwe,

Whan that hir housbondes ben from hem ago,

That for the moore part they sorwen so,

2825

Or ellis fallen in swich maladye,

That at the laste certeinly they dye.

Infinite been the sorwes and the teeres

Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeeres,

In al the toun for deeth of this theban.

2830

For hym ther wepeth bothe child and man;

So greet wepyng was ther noon, certayn,

Whan ector was ybroght, al fressh yslayn,

To troye. Allas, the pitee that was ther,

Cracchynge of chekes, rentynge eek of heer.

2835

Why woldestow be deed, thise wommen crye,

And haddest gold ynough, and emelye?

No man myghte gladen theseus,

Savynge his olde fader egeus,

That knew this worldes transmutacioun,

2840

As he hadde seyn it chaunge bothe up and doun,

Joye after wo, and wo after gladnesse,

And shewed hem ensamples and liknesse.

Right as ther dyed nevere man, quod he,

That he ne lyvede in erthe in some degree,

2845

Right so ther lyvede never man, he seyde,

In al this world, that som tyme he ne deyde.

This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo,

And we been pilgrymes, passynge to and fro.

Deeth is an ende of every worldly soore.

2850

And over al this yet seyde he muchel moore

To this effect, ful wisely to enhorte

The peple that they sholde hem reconforte.

Duc theseus, with al his bisy cure,

Caste now wher that the sepulture

2855

Of goode arcite may best ymaked be,

And eek moost honurable in his degree.

And at the laste he took conclusioun

That ther as first arcite and palamoun

Hadden for love the bataille hem bitwene,

2860

That in that selve grove, swoote and grene,

Ther as he hadde his amorouse desires,

His compleynte, and for love his hoote fires,

He wolde make a fyr in which the office

Funeral he myghte al accomplice.

2865

And leet comande anon to hakke and hewe

The okes olde, and leye hem on a rewe

In colpons wel arrayed for to brenne.

His officers with swifte feet they renne

And ryde anon at his comandement.

2870

And after this, theseus hath ysent

After a beere, and it al over spradde

With clooth of gold, the richeste that he hadde.

And of the same suyte he cladde arcite;

Upon his hondes hadde he gloves white,

2875

Eek on his heed a coroune of laurer grene,

And in his hond a swerd ful bright and kene.

He leyde hym, bare the visage, on the beere;

Therwith he weep that pitee was to heere.

And for the peple sholde seen hym alle,

2880

Whan it was day, he broghte hym to the halle,

That roreth of the criyng and the soun.

Tho cam this woful theban palamoun,

With flotery berd and ruggy, asshy heeres,

In clothes blake, ydropped al with teeres;

2885

And, passynge othere of wepynge, emelye,

The rewefulleste of al the compaignye.

In as muche as the servyce sholde be

The moore noble and riche in his degree,

Duc theseus leet forth thre steedes brynge,

2890

That trapped were in steel al gliterynge,

And covered with the armes of daun arcite.

Upon thise steedes, that weren grete and white,

Ther seten folk, of whiche oon baar his sheeld,

Another his spere up on his hondes heeld,

2895

The thridde baar with hym his bowe turkeys

(of brend gold was the caas and eek the harneys);

And riden forth a paas with sorweful cheere

Toward the grove, as ye shul after heere.

The nobleste of the grekes that ther were

2900

Upon hir shuldres caryeden the beere,

With slakke paas, and eyen rede and wete,

Thurghout the citee by the maister strete,

That sprad was al with blak, and wonder hye

Right of the same is the strete ywrye.

2905

Upon the right hond wente olde egeus,

And on that oother syde duc theseus,

With vessels in hir hand of gold ful fyn,

Al ful of hony, milk, and blood, and wyn;

Eek palamon, with ful greet compaignye;

2910

And after that cam woful emelye,

With fyr in honde, as was that tyme the gyse,

To do the office of funeral servyse.

Heigh labour and ful greet apparaillynge

Was at the service and the fyr-makynge,

2915

That with his grene top the hevene raughte;

And twenty fadme of brede the armes straughte –

This is to seyn, the bowes weren so brode.

Of stree first ther was leyd ful many a lode.

But how the fyr was maked upon highte,

2920

Ne eek the names that the trees highte,

As ook, firre, birch, aspe, alder, holm, popler,

Wylugh, elm, plane, assh, box, chasteyn, lynde, laurer,

Mapul, thorn, bech, hasel, ew, whippeltree, –

How they weren feld, shal nat be toold for me;

2925

Ne hou the goddes ronnen up and doun,

Disherited of hire habitacioun,

In which they woneden in reste and pees,

Nymphes, fawnes and amadrides;

Ne hou the beestes and the briddes alle

2930

Fledden for fere, whan the wode was falle;

Ne how the ground agast was of the light,

That was nat wont to seen the sonne bright;

Ne how the fyr was couched first with stree,

And thanne with drye stikkes cloven a thre,

2935

And thanne with grene wode and spicerye,

And thanne with clooth of gold and with perrye,

And gerlandes, hangynge with ful many a flour;

The mirre, th' encens, with al so greet odour;

Ne how arcite lay among al this,

2940

Ne what richesse aboute his body is;

Ne how that emelye, as was the gyse,

Putte in the fyr of funeral servyse;

Ne how she swowned whan men made the fyr,

Ne what she spak, ne what was hir desir;

2945

Ne what jeweles men in the fyre caste,

Whan that the fyr was greet and brente faste;

Ne how somme caste hir sheeld, and somme hir spere,

And of hire vestimentz, whiche that they were,

And coppes fulle of wyn, and milk, and blood,

2950

Into the fyr, that brente as it were wood;

Ne how the grekes, with an huge route,

Thries riden al the fyr aboute

Upon the left hand, with a loud shoutynge,

And thries with hir speres claterynge;

2955

And thries how the ladyes gonne crye;

Ne how that lad was homward emelye;

Ne how arcite is brent to asshen colde;

Ne how that lyche-wake was yholde

Al thilke nyght; ne how the grekes pleye

2960

The wake-pleyes, ne kepe I nat to seye;

Who wrastleth best naked with oille enoynt,

Ne who that baar hym best, in no disjoynt.

I wol nat tellen eek how that they goon

Hoom til atthenes, whan the pley is doon;

2965

But shortly to the point thanne wol I wende,

And maken of my longe tale an ende.

By processe and by lengthe of certeyn yeres,

Al stynted is the moornynge and the teres

Of grekes, by oon general assent.

2970

Thanne semed me ther was a parlement

At atthenes, upon certein pointz and caas;

Among the whiche pointz yspoken was,

To have with certein contrees alliaunce,

And have fully of thebans obeisaunce.

2975

For which this noble theseus anon

Leet senden after gentil palamon,

Unwist of hym what was the cause and why;

But in his blake clothes sorwefully

He cam at his comandement in hye.

2980

Tho sente theseus for emelye.

Whan they were set, and hust was al the place,

And theseus abiden hadde a space

Er any word cam fram his wise brest,

His eyen sette he ther as was his lest.

2985

And with a sad visage he siked stille,

And after that right thus he seyde his wille:

The firste moevere of the cause above,

Whan he first made the faire cheyne of love,

Greet was th' effect, and heigh was his entente.

2990

Wel wiste he why, and what thereof he mente;

For with that faire cheyne of love he bond

The fyr, the eyr, the water, and the lond

In certeyn boundes, that they may nat flee.

That same prince and that moevere, quod he,

2995

Hath stablissed in this wrecched world adoun

Certeyne dayes and duracioun

To al that is engendred in this place,

Over the whiche day they may nat pace,

Al mowe they yet tho dayes wel abregge.

3000

Ther nedeth noght noon auctoritee t' allegge,

For it is preeved by experience,

But that me list declaren my sentence.

Thanne may men by this ordre wel discerne

That thilke moevere stable is and eterne.

3005

Wel may men knowe, but it be a fool,

That every part dirryveth from his hool;

For nature hath nat taken his bigynnyng

Of no partie or cantel of a thyng,

But of a thyng that parfit is and stable,

3010

Descendynge so til it be corrumpable.

And therfore, of his wise purveiaunce,

He hath so wel biset his ordinaunce,

That speces of thynges and progressiouns

Shullen enduren by successiouns,

3015

And nat eterne, withouten any lye.

This maystow understonde and seen at ye.

Loo the ook, that hath so long a norisshynge

From tyme that it first bigynneth to sprynge,

And hath so long a lif, as we may see,

3020

Yet at the laste wasted is the tree.

Considereth eek how that the harde stoon

Under oure feet, on which we trede and goon,

Yet wasteth it as it lyth by the weye.

The brode ryver somtyme wexeth dreye;

3025

The grete tounes se we wane and wende.

Thanne may ye se that al this thyng hath ende.

Of man and womman seen we wel also

That nedes, in oon of thise termes two,

This is to seyn, in youthe or elles age,

3030

He moot be deed, the kyng as shal a page;

Som in his bed, som in the depe see,

Som in the large feeld, as men may see;

Ther helpeth noght, al goth that ilke weye.

Thanne may I seyn that al this thyng moot deye.

3035

What maketh this but juppiter, the kyng,

That is prince and cause of alle thyng,

Convertynge al unto his propre welle

From which it is dirryved, sooth to telle?

And heer-agayns no creature on lyve,

3040

Of no degree, availleth for to stryve.

Thanne is it wysdom, as it thynketh me,

To maken vertu of necessitee,

And take it weel that we may nat eschue,

And namely that to us alle is due.

3045

And whoso gruccheth ought, he dooth folye,

And rebel is to hym that al may gye.

And certeinly a man hath moost honour

To dyen in his excellence and flour,

Whan he is siker of his goode name;

3050

Thanne hath he doon his freend, ne hym, no shame.

And gladder oghte his freend been of his deeth,

Whan with honour up yolden is his breeth,

Than whan his name apalled is for age,

For al forgeten is his vassellage.

3055

Thanne is it best, as for a worthy fame,

To dyen whan that he is best of name.

The contrarie of al this is wilfulnesse.

Why grucchen we, why have we hevynesse,

That goode arcite, of chivalrie the flour,

3060

Departed is with duetee and honour

Out of this foule prisoun of this lyf?

Why grucchen heere his cosyn and his wyf

Of his welfare, that loved hem so weel?

Kan he hem thank? nay, God woot, never a deel,

3065

That both his soule and eek hemself offende,

And yet they mowe hir lustes nat amende.

What may I conclude of this longe serye,

But after wo I rede us to be merye,

And thanken juppiter of al his grace?

3070

And er that we departen from this place

I rede that we make of sorwes two

O parfit joye, lastynge everemo.

And looketh now, wher moost sorwe is herinne,

Ther wol we first amenden and bigynne.

3075

Suster, quod he, this is my fulle assent,

With al th' avys heere of my parlement,

That gentil palamon, youre owene knyght,

That serveth yow with wille herte, and myght,

And ever hath doon syn ye first hym knewe,

3080

That ye shul of youre grace upon hym rewe,

And taken hym for housbonde and for lord.

Lene me youre hond, for this is oure accord.

Lat se now of youre wommanly pitee.

He is kynges brother sone, pardee;

3085

And though he were a povre bacheler,

Syn he hath served yow so many a yeer,

And had for yow so greet adversitee,

It moste been considered, leeveth me;

For gentil mercy oghte to passen right.

3090

Thanne seyde he thus to palamon the knight:

I trowe ther nedeth litel sermonyng

To make yow assente to this thyng.

Com neer, and taak youre lady by the hond.

Bitwixen hem was maad anon the bond

3095

That highte matrimoigne or mariage,

By al the conseil and the baronage.

And thus with alle blisse and melodye

Hath palamon ywedded emelye.

And god, that al this wyde world hath wroght,

3100

Sende hym his love that hath it deere aboght;

For now is palamon in alle wele,

Lyvynge in blisse, in richesse, and in heele,

And emelye hym loveth so tendrely,

And he hire serveth al so gentilly,

3105

That nevere was ther no word hem bitwene

Of jalousie or any oother teene.

Thus endeth palamon and emelye;

And God save al this faire compaignye! amen.

Heere is ended the

Knyghtes Tale.