The REEVE was a slender choleric man His beard was shav'd as nigh as ever he can. His hair was by his eares round y-shorn; His top was docked like a priest beforn Full longe were his legges, and full lean Y-like a staff, there was no calf y-seen Well could he keep a garner* and a bin* *storeplaces for grain There was no auditor could on him win Well wist he by the drought, and by the rain, The yielding of his seed and of his grain His lorde's sheep, his neat*, and his dairy *cattle His swine, his horse, his store, and his poultry, Were wholly in this Reeve's governing, And by his cov'nant gave he reckoning, Since that his lord was twenty year of age; There could no man bring him in arrearage There was no bailiff, herd, nor other hine* *servant That he ne knew his *sleight and his covine* *tricks and cheating* They were adrad* of him, as of the death *in dread His wonning* was full fair upon an heath *abode With greene trees y-shadow'd was his place. He coulde better than his lord purchase Full rich he was y-stored privily His lord well could he please subtilly, To give and lend him of his owen good, And have a thank, and yet* a coat and hood. *also In youth he learned had a good mistere* *trade He was a well good wright, a carpentere This Reeve sate upon a right good stot*, *steed That was all pomely* gray, and highte** Scot. *dappled **called A long surcoat of perse* upon he had, *sky-blue And by his side he bare a rusty blade. Of Norfolk was this Reeve, of which I tell, Beside a town men clepen* Baldeswell, *call Tucked he was, as is a friar, about, And ever rode the *hinderest of the rout*. *hindmost of the group*

A SOMPNOUR* was there with us in that place, *summoner That had a fire-red cherubinnes face, For sausefleme* he was, with eyen narrow. *red or pimply As hot he was and lecherous as a sparrow, With scalled browes black, and pilled* beard: *scanty Of his visage children were sore afeard. There n'as quicksilver, litharge, nor brimstone, Boras, ceruse, nor oil of tartar none, Nor ointement that woulde cleanse or bite, That him might helpen of his whelkes* white, *pustules Nor of the knobbes* sitting on his cheeks. *buttons Well lov'd he garlic, onions, and leeks, And for to drink strong wine as red as blood. Then would he speak, and cry as he were wood; And when that he well drunken had the wine, Then would he speake no word but Latin. A fewe termes knew he, two or three, That he had learned out of some decree; No wonder is, he heard it all the day. And eke ye knowen well, how that a jay Can clepen* "Wat," as well as can the Pope. *call But whoso would in other thing him grope*, *search Then had he spent all his philosophy, Aye, Questio quid juris, would he cry.

He was a gentle harlot* and a kind; *a low fellow A better fellow should a man not find. He woulde suffer, for a quart of wine, A good fellow to have his concubine A twelvemonth, and excuse him at the full. Full privily a *finch eke could he pull*. *"fleece" a man* And if he found owhere* a good fellaw, *anywhere He woulde teache him to have none awe In such a case of the archdeacon's curse; *But if* a manne's soul were in his purse; *unless* For in his purse he should y-punished be. "Purse is the archedeacon's hell," said he. But well I wot, he lied right indeed: Of cursing ought each guilty man to dread, For curse will slay right as assoiling* saveth; *absolving And also 'ware him of a significavit. In danger had he at his owen guise The younge girles of the diocese, And knew their counsel, and was of their rede*. *counsel A garland had he set upon his head, As great as it were for an alestake*: *The post of an alehouse sign A buckler had he made him of a cake.

With him there rode a gentle PARDONERE Of Ronceval, his friend and his compere, That straight was comen from the court of Rome. Full loud he sang, "Come hither, love, to me" This Sompnour *bare to him a stiff burdoun*, *sang the bass* Was never trump of half so great a soun'. This Pardoner had hair as yellow as wax, But smooth it hung, as doth a strike* of flax: *strip By ounces hung his lockes that he had, And therewith he his shoulders oversprad. Full thin it lay, by culpons* one and one, *locks, shreds But hood for jollity, he weared none, For it was trussed up in his wallet. Him thought he rode all of the *newe get*, *latest fashion* Dishevel, save his cap, he rode all bare. Such glaring eyen had he, as an hare. A vernicle* had he sew'd upon his cap. *image of Christ His wallet lay before him in his lap, Bretful* of pardon come from Rome all hot. *brimful A voice he had as small as hath a goat. No beard had he, nor ever one should have. As smooth it was as it were new y-shave; I trow he were a gelding or a mare. But of his craft, from Berwick unto Ware, Ne was there such another pardonere. For in his mail* he had a pillowbere**, *bag **pillowcase Which, as he saide, was our Lady's veil: He said, he had a gobbet* of the sail *piece That Sainte Peter had, when that he went Upon the sea, till Jesus Christ him hent*. *took hold of He had a cross of latoun* full of stones, *copper And in a glass he hadde pigge's bones. But with these relics, whenne that he fond A poore parson dwelling upon lond, Upon a day he got him more money Than that the parson got in moneths tway; And thus with feigned flattering and japes*, *jests He made the parson and the people his apes. But truely to tellen at the last, He was in church a noble ecclesiast. Well could he read a lesson or a story, But alderbest* he sang an offertory: *best of all For well he wiste, when that song was sung, He muste preach, and well afile* his tongue, *polish To winne silver, as he right well could: Therefore he sang full merrily and loud.

Now have I told you shortly in a clause Th' estate, th' array, the number, and eke the cause Why that assembled was this company In Southwark at this gentle hostelry, That highte the Tabard, fast by the Bell. But now is time to you for to tell *How that we baren us that ilke night*, *what we did that same night* When we were in that hostelry alight. And after will I tell of our voyage, And all the remnant of our pilgrimage. But first I pray you of your courtesy, That ye *arette it not my villainy*, *count it not rudeness in me* Though that I plainly speak in this mattere. To tellen you their wordes and their cheer; Not though I speak their wordes properly. For this ye knowen all so well as I, Whoso shall tell a tale after a man, He must rehearse, as nigh as ever he can, Every word, if it be in his charge, *All speak he* ne'er so rudely and so large; *let him speak* Or elles he must tell his tale untrue, Or feigne things, or finde wordes new. He may not spare, although he were his brother; He must as well say one word as another. Christ spake Himself full broad in Holy Writ, And well ye wot no villainy is it. Eke Plato saith, whoso that can him read, The wordes must be cousin to the deed. Also I pray you to forgive it me, *All have I* not set folk in their degree, *although I have* Here in this tale, as that they shoulden stand: My wit is short, ye may well understand.

Great cheere made our Host us every one, And to the supper set he us anon: And served us with victual of the best. Strong was the wine, and well to drink us lest*. *pleased A seemly man Our Hoste was withal For to have been a marshal in an hall. A large man he was with eyen steep*, *deep-set. A fairer burgess is there none in Cheap: Bold of his speech, and wise and well y-taught, And of manhoode lacked him right naught. Eke thereto was he right a merry man, And after supper playen he began, And spake of mirth amonges other things, When that we hadde made our reckonings; And saide thus; "Now, lordinges, truly Ye be to me welcome right heartily: For by my troth, if that I shall not lie, I saw not this year such a company At once in this herberow*, am is now. *inn Fain would I do you mirth, an* I wist* how. *if I knew* And of a mirth I am right now bethought. To do you ease*, and it shall coste nought. *pleasure Ye go to Canterbury; God you speed, The blissful Martyr *quite you your meed*; *grant you what And well I wot, as ye go by the way, you deserve* Ye *shapen you* to talken and to play: *intend to* For truely comfort nor mirth is none To ride by the way as dumb as stone: And therefore would I make you disport, As I said erst, and do you some comfort. And if you liketh all by one assent Now for to standen at my judgement, And for to worken as I shall you say To-morrow, when ye riden on the way, Now by my father's soule that is dead, *But ye be merry, smiteth off* mine head. *unless you are merry, Hold up your hands withoute more speech. smite off my head*

Our counsel was not longe for to seech*: *seek Us thought it was not worth to *make it wise*, *discuss it at length* And granted him withoute more avise*, *consideration And bade him say his verdict, as him lest. Lordings (quoth he), now hearken for the best; But take it not, I pray you, in disdain; This is the point, to speak it plat* and plain. *flat That each of you, to shorten with your way In this voyage, shall tellen tales tway, To Canterbury-ward, I mean it so, And homeward he shall tellen other two, Of aventures that whilom have befall. And which of you that bear'th him best of all, That is to say, that telleth in this case Tales of best sentence and most solace, Shall have a supper *at your aller cost* *at the cost of you all* Here in this place, sitting by this post, When that ye come again from Canterbury. And for to make you the more merry, I will myselfe gladly with you ride, Right at mine owen cost, and be your guide. And whoso will my judgement withsay, Shall pay for all we spenden by the way. And if ye vouchesafe that it be so, Tell me anon withoute wordes mo'*, *more And I will early shape me therefore."

This thing was granted, and our oath we swore With full glad heart, and prayed him also, That he would vouchesafe for to do so, And that he woulde be our governour, And of our tales judge and reportour, And set a supper at a certain price; And we will ruled be at his device, In high and low: and thus by one assent, We be accorded to his judgement. And thereupon the wine was fet* anon. *fetched. We drunken, and to reste went each one, Withouten any longer tarrying A-morrow, when the day began to spring, Up rose our host, and was *our aller cock*, *the cock to wake us all* And gather'd us together in a flock, And forth we ridden all a little space, Unto the watering of Saint Thomas: And there our host began his horse arrest, And saide; "Lordes, hearken if you lest. Ye *weet your forword,* and I it record. *know your promise* If even-song and morning-song accord, Let see now who shall telle the first tale. As ever may I drinke wine or ale, Whoso is rebel to my judgement, Shall pay for all that by the way is spent. Now draw ye cuts*, ere that ye farther twin**. *lots **go He which that hath the shortest shall begin."

"Sir Knight (quoth he), my master and my lord, Now draw the cut, for that is mine accord. Come near (quoth he), my Lady Prioress, And ye, Sir Clerk, let be your shamefastness, Nor study not: lay hand to, every man." Anon to drawen every wight began, And shortly for to tellen as it was, Were it by a venture, or sort*, or cas**, *lot **chance The sooth is this, the cut fell to the Knight, Of which full blithe and glad was every wight; And tell he must his tale as was reason, By forword, and by composition, As ye have heard; what needeth wordes mo'? And when this good man saw that it was so, As he that wise was and obedient To keep his forword by his free assent, He said; "Sithen* I shall begin this game, *since Why, welcome be the cut in Godde's name. Now let us ride, and hearken what I say." And with that word we ridden forth our way; And he began with right a merry cheer His tale anon, and said as ye shall hear.



Notes to the Prologue

1. Tyrwhitt points out that "the Bull" should be read here, not "the Ram," which would place the time of the pilgrimage in the end of March; whereas, in the Prologue to the Man of Law's Tale, the date is given as the "eight and twenty day of April, that is messenger to May."

2. Dante, in the "Vita Nuova," distinguishes three classes of pilgrims: palmieri - palmers who go beyond sea to the East, and often bring back staves of palm-wood; peregrini, who go the shrine of St Jago in Galicia; Romei, who go to Rome. Sir Walter Scott, however, says that palmers were in the habit of passing from shrine to shrine, living on charity — pilgrims on the other hand, made the journey to any shrine only once, immediately returning to their ordinary avocations. Chaucer uses "palmer" of all pilgrims.

3. "Hallows" survives, in the meaning here given, in All Hallows — All-Saints — day. "Couth," past participle of "conne" to know, exists in "uncouth."

4. The Tabard — the sign of the inn — was a sleeveless coat, worn by heralds. The name of the inn was, some three centuries after Chaucer, changed to the Talbot.

5. In y-fall," "y" is a corruption of the Anglo-Saxon "ge" prefixed to participles of verbs. It is used by Chaucer merely to help the metre In German, "y-fall," or y-falle," would be "gefallen", "y-run," or "y-ronne", would be "geronnen."

6. Alisandre: Alexandria, in Egypt, captured by Pierre de Lusignan, king of Cyprus, in 1365 but abandoned immediately afterwards. Thirteen years before, the same Prince had taken Satalie, the ancient Attalia, in Anatolia, and in 1367 he won Layas, in Armenia, both places named just below.

7. The knight had been placed at the head of the table, above knights of all nations, in Prussia, whither warriors from all countries were wont to repair, to aid the Teutonic Order in their continual conflicts with their heathen neighbours in "Lettowe" or Lithuania (German. "Litthauen"), Russia, &c.

8. Algesiras was taken from the Moorish king of Grenada, in 1344: the Earls of Derby and Salisbury took part in the siege. Belmarie is supposed to have been a Moorish state in Africa; but "Palmyrie" has been suggested as the correct reading. The Great Sea, or the Greek sea, is the Eastern Mediterranean. Tramissene, or Tremessen, is enumerated by Froissart among the Moorish kingdoms in Africa. Palatie, or Palathia, in Anatolia, was a fief held by the Christian knights after the Turkish conquests — the holders paying tribute to the infidel. Our knight had fought with one of those lords against a heathen neighbour.

9. Ilke: same; compare the Scottish phrase "of that ilk," — that is, of the estate which bears the same name as its owner's title.

10. It was the custom for squires of the highest degree to carve at their fathers' tables.

11. Peacock Arrows: Large arrows, with peacocks' feathers.

12. A nut-head: With nut-brown hair; or, round like a nut, the hair being cut short.

13. Grey eyes appear to have been a mark of female beauty in Chaucer's time.

14. "for the mastery" was applied to medicines in the sense of "sovereign" as we now apply it to a remedy.

15. It was fashionable to hang bells on horses' bridles.

16. St. Benedict was the first founder of a spiritual order in the Roman church. Maurus, abbot of Fulda from 822 to 842, did much to re-establish the discipline of the Benedictines on a true Christian basis.

17. Wood: Mad, Scottish "wud". Felix says to Paul, "Too much learning hath made thee mad".

18. Limitour: A friar with licence or privilege to beg, or exercise other functions, within a certain district: as, "the limitour of Holderness".

19. Farme: rent; that is, he paid a premium for his licence to beg.

20. In principio: the first words of Genesis and John, employed in some part of the mass.

21. Lovedays: meetings appointed for friendly settlement of differences; the business was often followed by sports and feasting.

22. He would the sea were kept for any thing: he would for anything that the sea were guarded. "The old subsidy of tonnage and poundage," says Tyrwhitt, "was given to the king 'pour la saufgarde et custodie del mer.' — for the safeguard and keeping of the sea" (12 E. IV. C.3).

23. Middleburg, at the mouth of the Scheldt, in Holland; Orwell, a seaport in Essex.

24. Shields: Crowns, so called from the shields stamped on them; French, "ecu;" Italian, "scudo."

25. Poor scholars at the universities used then to go about begging for money to maintain them and their studies.

26. Parvis: The portico of St. Paul's, which lawyers frequented to meet their clients.

27. St Julian: The patron saint of hospitality, celebrated for supplying his votaries with good lodging and good cheer.

28. Mew: cage. The place behind Whitehall, where the king's hawks were caged was called the Mews.

29. Many a luce in stew: many a pike in his fish-pond; in those Catholic days, when much fish was eaten, no gentleman's mansion was complete without a "stew".

30. Countour: Probably a steward or accountant in the county court.

31. Vavasour: A landholder of consequence; holding of a duke, marquis, or earl, and ranking below a baron.

32. On the dais: On the raised platform at the end of the hall, where sat at meat or in judgement those high in authority, rank or honour; in our days the worthy craftsmen might have been described as "good platform men".

33. To take precedence over all in going to the evening service of the Church, or to festival meetings, to which it was the fashion to carry rich cloaks or mantles against the home- coming.

34. The things the cook could make: "marchand tart", some now unknown ingredient used in cookery; "galingale," sweet or long rooted cyprus; "mortrewes", a rich soup made by stamping flesh in a mortar; "Blanc manger", not what is now called blancmange; one part of it was the brawn of a capon.

35. Lodemanage: pilotage, from Anglo-Saxon "ladman," a leader, guide, or pilot; hence "lodestar," "lodestone."

36. The authors mentioned here were the chief medical text- books of the middle ages. The names of Galen and Hippocrates were then usually spelt "Gallien" and "Hypocras" or "Ypocras".

37. The west of England, especially around Bath, was the seat of the cloth-manufacture, as were Ypres and Ghent (Gaunt) in Flanders.

38. Chaucer here satirises the fashion of the time, which piled bulky and heavy waddings on ladies' heads.

39. Moist; here used in the sense of "new", as in Latin, "mustum" signifies new wine; and elsewhere Chaucer speaks of "moisty ale", as opposed to "old".

40. In Galice at Saint James: at the shrine of St Jago of Compostella in Spain.

41. Gat-toothed: Buck-toothed; goat-toothed, to signify her wantonness; or gap-toothed — with gaps between her teeth.

42. An endowment to sing masses for the soul of the donor.

43. A ram was the usual prize at wrestling matches.

44. Cop: Head; German, "Kopf".

45. Nose-thirles: nostrils; from the Anglo-Saxon, "thirlian," to pierce; hence the word "drill," to bore.

46. Goliardais: a babbler and a buffoon; Golias was the founder of a jovial sect called by his name.

47. The proverb says that every honest miller has a thumb of gold; probably Chaucer means that this one was as honest as his brethren.

48. A Manciple — Latin, "manceps," a purchaser or contractor - - was an officer charged with the purchase of victuals for inns of court or colleges.

49. Reeve: A land-steward; still called "grieve" — Anglo-Saxon, "gerefa" in some parts of Scotland.

50. Sompnour: summoner; an apparitor, who cited delinquents to appear in ecclesiastical courts.

51. Questio quid juris: "I ask which law (applies)"; a cant law- Latin phrase.

52 Harlot: a low, ribald fellow; the word was used of both sexes; it comes from the Anglo-Saxon verb to hire.

53. Significavit: an ecclesiastical writ.

54. Within his jurisdiction he had at his own pleasure the young people (of both sexes) in the diocese.

55. Pardoner: a seller of pardons or indulgences.

56. Newe get: new gait, or fashion; "gait" is still used in this sense in some parts of the country.

57. Vernicle: an image of Christ; so called from St Veronica, who gave the Saviour a napkin to wipe the sweat from His face as He bore the Cross, and received it back with an impression of His countenance upon it.

58. Mail: packet, baggage; French, "malle," a trunk.

59. The Bell: apparently another Southwark tavern; Stowe mentions a "Bull" as being near the Tabard.

60. Cheap: Cheapside, then inhabited by the richest and most prosperous citizens of London.

61. Herberow: Lodging, inn; French, "Herberge."

62. The watering of Saint Thomas: At the second milestone on the old Canterbury road.



THE KNIGHT'S TALE

WHILOM*, as olde stories tellen us, *formerly There was a duke that highte* Theseus. *was called Of Athens he was lord and governor, And in his time such a conqueror That greater was there none under the sun. Full many a riche country had he won. What with his wisdom and his chivalry, He conquer'd all the regne of Feminie, That whilom was y-cleped Scythia; And weddede the Queen Hippolyta And brought her home with him to his country With muchel* glory and great solemnity, *great And eke her younge sister Emily, And thus with vict'ry and with melody Let I this worthy Duke to Athens ride, And all his host, in armes him beside.

And certes, if it n'ere* too long to hear, *were not I would have told you fully the mannere, How wonnen* was the regne of Feminie, *won By Theseus, and by his chivalry; And of the greate battle for the nonce Betwixt Athenes and the Amazons; And how assieged was Hippolyta, The faire hardy queen of Scythia; And of the feast that was at her wedding And of the tempest at her homecoming. But all these things I must as now forbear. I have, God wot, a large field to ear* *plough; And weake be the oxen in my plough; The remnant of my tale is long enow. I will not *letten eke none of this rout*. *hinder any of Let every fellow tell his tale about, this company* And let see now who shall the supper win. There *as I left*, I will again begin. *where I left off*

This Duke, of whom I make mentioun, When he was come almost unto the town, In all his weal, and in his moste pride, He was ware, as he cast his eye aside, Where that there kneeled in the highe way A company of ladies, tway and tway, Each after other, clad in clothes black: But such a cry and such a woe they make, That in this world n'is creature living, That hearde such another waimenting* *lamenting And of this crying would they never stenten*, *desist Till they the reines of his bridle henten*. *seize "What folk be ye that at mine homecoming Perturben so my feaste with crying?" Quoth Theseus; "Have ye so great envy Of mine honour, that thus complain and cry? Or who hath you misboden*, or offended? *wronged Do telle me, if it may be amended; And why that ye be clad thus all in black?"

The oldest lady of them all then spake, When she had swooned, with a deadly cheer*, *countenance That it was ruthe* for to see or hear. *pity She saide; "Lord, to whom fortune hath given Vict'ry, and as a conqueror to liven, Nought grieveth us your glory and your honour; But we beseechen mercy and succour. Have mercy on our woe and our distress; Some drop of pity, through thy gentleness, Upon us wretched women let now fall. For certes, lord, there is none of us all That hath not been a duchess or a queen; Now be we caitives*, as it is well seen: *captives Thanked be Fortune, and her false wheel, That *none estate ensureth to be wele*. *assures no continuance of And certes, lord, t'abiden your presence prosperous estate* Here in this temple of the goddess Clemence We have been waiting all this fortenight: Now help us, lord, since it lies in thy might.

"I, wretched wight, that weep and waile thus, Was whilom wife to king Capaneus, That starf* at Thebes, cursed be that day: *died And alle we that be in this array, And maken all this lamentatioun, We losten all our husbands at that town, While that the siege thereabouten lay. And yet the olde Creon, wellaway! That lord is now of Thebes the city, Fulfilled of ire and of iniquity, He for despite, and for his tyranny, To do the deade bodies villainy*, *insult Of all our lorde's, which that been y-slaw, *slain Hath all the bodies on an heap y-draw, And will not suffer them by none assent Neither to be y-buried, nor y-brent*, *burnt But maketh houndes eat them in despite." And with that word, withoute more respite They fallen groff,* and cryden piteously; *grovelling "Have on us wretched women some mercy, And let our sorrow sinken in thine heart."

This gentle Duke down from his courser start With hearte piteous, when he heard them speak. Him thoughte that his heart would all to-break, When he saw them so piteous and so mate* *abased That whilom weren of so great estate. And in his armes he them all up hent*, *raised, took And them comforted in full good intent, And swore his oath, as he was true knight, He woulde do *so farforthly his might* *as far as his power went* Upon the tyrant Creon them to wreak*, *avenge That all the people of Greece shoulde speak, How Creon was of Theseus y-served, As he that had his death full well deserved. And right anon withoute more abode* *delay His banner he display'd, and forth he rode To Thebes-ward, and all his, host beside: No ner* Athenes would he go nor ride, *nearer Nor take his ease fully half a day, But onward on his way that night he lay: And sent anon Hippolyta the queen, And Emily her younge sister sheen* *bright, lovely Unto the town of Athens for to dwell: And forth he rit*; there is no more to tell. *rode

The red statue of Mars with spear and targe* *shield So shineth in his white banner large That all the fieldes glitter up and down: And by his banner borne is his pennon Of gold full rich, in which there was y-beat* *stamped The Minotaur which that he slew in Crete Thus rit this Duke, thus rit this conqueror And in his host of chivalry the flower, Till that he came to Thebes, and alight Fair in a field, there as he thought to fight. But shortly for to speaken of this thing, With Creon, which that was of Thebes king, He fought, and slew him manly as a knight In plain bataille, and put his folk to flight: And by assault he won the city after, And rent adown both wall, and spar, and rafter; And to the ladies he restored again The bodies of their husbands that were slain, To do obsequies, as was then the guise*. *custom

But it were all too long for to devise* *describe The greate clamour, and the waimenting*, *lamenting Which that the ladies made at the brenning* *burning Of the bodies, and the great honour That Theseus the noble conqueror Did to the ladies, when they from him went: But shortly for to tell is mine intent. When that this worthy Duke, this Theseus, Had Creon slain, and wonnen Thebes thus, Still in the field he took all night his rest, And did with all the country as him lest*. *pleased To ransack in the tas* of bodies dead, *heap Them for to strip of *harness and of **weed, *armour **clothes The pillers* did their business and cure, *pillagers After the battle and discomfiture. And so befell, that in the tas they found, Through girt with many a grievous bloody wound, Two younge knightes *ligging by and by* *lying side by side* Both in *one armes*, wrought full richely: *the same armour* Of whiche two, Arcita hight that one, And he that other highte Palamon. Not fully quick*, nor fully dead they were, *alive But by their coat-armour, and by their gear, The heralds knew them well in special, As those that weren of the blood royal Of Thebes, and *of sistren two y-born*. *born of two sisters* Out of the tas the pillers have them torn, And have them carried soft unto the tent Of Theseus, and he full soon them sent To Athens, for to dwellen in prison Perpetually, he *n'olde no ranson*. *would take no ransom* And when this worthy Duke had thus y-done, He took his host, and home he rit anon With laurel crowned as a conquerour; And there he lived in joy and in honour Term of his life; what needeth wordes mo'? And in a tower, in anguish and in woe, Dwellen this Palamon, and eke Arcite, For evermore, there may no gold them quite* *set free

Thus passed year by year, and day by day, Till it fell ones in a morn of May That Emily, that fairer was to seen Than is the lily upon his stalke green, And fresher than the May with flowers new (For with the rose colour strove her hue; I n'ot* which was the finer of them two), *know not Ere it was day, as she was wont to do, She was arisen, and all ready dight*, *dressed For May will have no sluggardy a-night; The season pricketh every gentle heart, And maketh him out of his sleep to start, And saith, "Arise, and do thine observance."

This maketh Emily have remembrance To do honour to May, and for to rise. Y-clothed was she fresh for to devise; Her yellow hair was braided in a tress, Behind her back, a yarde long I guess. And in the garden at *the sun uprist* *sunrise She walketh up and down where as her list. She gathereth flowers, party* white and red, *mingled To make a sotel* garland for her head, *subtle, well-arranged And as an angel heavenly she sung. The greate tower, that was so thick and strong, Which of the castle was the chief dungeon (Where as these knightes weren in prison, Of which I tolde you, and telle shall), Was even joinant* to the garden wall, *adjoining There as this Emily had her playing.

Bright was the sun, and clear that morrowning, And Palamon, this woful prisoner, As was his wont, by leave of his gaoler, Was ris'n, and roamed in a chamber on high, In which he all the noble city sigh*, *saw And eke the garden, full of branches green, There as this fresh Emelia the sheen Was in her walk, and roamed up and down. This sorrowful prisoner, this Palamon Went in his chamber roaming to and fro, And to himself complaining of his woe: That he was born, full oft he said, Alas! And so befell, by aventure or cas*, *chance That through a window thick of many a bar Of iron great, and square as any spar, He cast his eyes upon Emelia, And therewithal he blent* and cried, Ah! *started aside As though he stungen were unto the heart. And with that cry Arcite anon up start, And saide, "Cousin mine, what aileth thee, That art so pale and deadly for to see? Why cried'st thou? who hath thee done offence? For Godde's love, take all in patience Our prison*, for it may none other be. *imprisonment Fortune hath giv'n us this adversity'. Some wick'* aspect or disposition *wicked Of Saturn, by some constellation, Hath giv'n us this, although we had it sworn, So stood the heaven when that we were born, We must endure; this is the short and plain.

This Palamon answer'd, and said again: "Cousin, forsooth of this opinion Thou hast a vain imagination. This prison caused me not for to cry; But I was hurt right now thorough mine eye Into mine heart; that will my bane* be. *destruction The fairness of the lady that I see Yond in the garden roaming to and fro, Is cause of all my crying and my woe. I *n'ot wher* she be woman or goddess, *know not whether* But Venus is it, soothly* as I guess, *truly And therewithal on knees adown he fill, And saide: "Venus, if it be your will You in this garden thus to transfigure Before me sorrowful wretched creature, Out of this prison help that we may scape. And if so be our destiny be shape By etern word to dien in prison, Of our lineage have some compassion, That is so low y-brought by tyranny."

And with that word Arcita *gan espy* *began to look forth* Where as this lady roamed to and fro And with that sight her beauty hurt him so, That if that Palamon was wounded sore, Arcite is hurt as much as he, or more. And with a sigh he saide piteously: "The freshe beauty slay'th me suddenly Of her that roameth yonder in the place. And but* I have her mercy and her grace, *unless That I may see her at the leaste way, I am but dead; there is no more to say." This Palamon, when he these wordes heard, Dispiteously* he looked, and answer'd: *angrily "Whether say'st thou this in earnest or in play?" "Nay," quoth Arcite, "in earnest, by my fay*. *faith God help me so, *me lust full ill to play*." *I am in no humour This Palamon gan knit his browes tway. for jesting* "It were," quoth he, "to thee no great honour For to be false, nor for to be traitour To me, that am thy cousin and thy brother Y-sworn full deep, and each of us to other, That never for to dien in the pain , Till that the death departen shall us twain, Neither of us in love to hinder other, Nor in none other case, my leve* brother; *dear But that thou shouldest truly farther me In every case, as I should farther thee. This was thine oath, and mine also certain; I wot it well, thou dar'st it not withsayn*, *deny Thus art thou of my counsel out of doubt, And now thou wouldest falsely be about To love my lady, whom I love and serve, And ever shall, until mine hearte sterve* *die Now certes, false Arcite, thou shalt not so I lov'd her first, and tolde thee my woe As to my counsel, and my brother sworn To farther me, as I have told beforn. For which thou art y-bounden as a knight To helpe me, if it lie in thy might, Or elles art thou false, I dare well sayn,"

This Arcita full proudly spake again: "Thou shalt," quoth he, "be rather* false than I, *sooner And thou art false, I tell thee utterly; For par amour I lov'd her first ere thou. What wilt thou say? *thou wist it not right now* *even now thou Whether she be a woman or goddess. knowest not* Thine is affection of holiness, And mine is love, as to a creature: For which I tolde thee mine aventure As to my cousin, and my brother sworn I pose*, that thou loved'st her beforn: *suppose Wost* thou not well the olde clerke's saw, *know'st That who shall give a lover any law? Love is a greater lawe, by my pan, Than may be giv'n to any earthly man: Therefore positive law, and such decree, Is broke alway for love in each degree A man must needes love, maugre his head. He may not flee it, though he should be dead, *All be she* maid, or widow, or else wife. *whether she be* And eke it is not likely all thy life To standen in her grace, no more than I For well thou wost thyselfe verily, That thou and I be damned to prison Perpetual, us gaineth no ranson. We strive, as did the houndes for the bone; They fought all day, and yet their part was none. There came a kite, while that they were so wroth, And bare away the bone betwixt them both. And therefore at the kinge's court, my brother, Each man for himselfe, there is no other. Love if thee list; for I love and aye shall And soothly, leve brother, this is all. Here in this prison musten we endure, And each of us take his Aventure."

Great was the strife and long between these tway, If that I hadde leisure for to say; But to the effect: it happen'd on a day (To tell it you as shortly as I may), A worthy duke that hight Perithous That fellow was to the Duke Theseus Since thilke* day that they were children lite** *that **little Was come to Athens, his fellow to visite, And for to play, as he was wont to do; For in this world he loved no man so; And he lov'd him as tenderly again. So well they lov'd, as olde bookes sayn, That when that one was dead, soothly to sayn, His fellow went and sought him down in hell: But of that story list me not to write. Duke Perithous loved well Arcite, And had him known at Thebes year by year: And finally at request and prayere Of Perithous, withoute ranson Duke Theseus him let out of prison, Freely to go, where him list over all, In such a guise, as I you tellen shall This was the forword*, plainly to indite, *promise Betwixte Theseus and him Arcite: That if so were, that Arcite were y-found Ever in his life, by day or night, one stound* *moment In any country of this Theseus, And he were caught, it was accorded thus, That with a sword he shoulde lose his head; There was none other remedy nor rede*. *counsel But took his leave, and homeward he him sped; Let him beware, his necke lieth *to wed*. *in pledge*

How great a sorrow suff'reth now Arcite! The death he feeleth through his hearte smite; He weepeth, waileth, crieth piteously; To slay himself he waiteth privily. He said; "Alas the day that I was born! Now is my prison worse than beforn: *Now is me shape* eternally to dwell *it is fixed for me* Not in purgatory, but right in hell. Alas! that ever I knew Perithous. For elles had I dwelt with Theseus Y-fettered in his prison evermo'. Then had I been in bliss, and not in woe. Only the sight of her, whom that I serve, Though that I never may her grace deserve, Would have sufficed right enough for me. O deare cousin Palamon," quoth he, "Thine is the vict'ry of this aventure, Full blissfully in prison to endure: In prison? nay certes, in paradise. Well hath fortune y-turned thee the dice, That hast the sight of her, and I th' absence. For possible is, since thou hast her presence, And art a knight, a worthy and an able, That by some cas*, since fortune is changeable, *chance Thou may'st to thy desire sometime attain. But I that am exiled, and barren Of alle grace, and in so great despair, That there n'is earthe, water, fire, nor air, Nor creature, that of them maked is, That may me helpe nor comfort in this, Well ought I *sterve in wanhope* and distress. *die in despair* Farewell my life, my lust*, and my gladness. *pleasure Alas, *why plainen men so in commune *why do men so often complain Of purveyance of God*, or of Fortune, of God's providence?* That giveth them full oft in many a guise Well better than they can themselves devise? Some man desireth for to have richess, That cause is of his murder or great sickness. And some man would out of his prison fain, That in his house is of his meinie* slain. *servants Infinite harmes be in this mattere. We wot never what thing we pray for here. We fare as he that drunk is as a mouse. A drunken man wot well he hath an house, But he wot not which is the right way thither, And to a drunken man the way is slither*. *slippery And certes in this world so fare we. We seeke fast after felicity, But we go wrong full often truely. Thus we may sayen all, and namely* I, *especially That ween'd*, and had a great opinion, *thought That if I might escape from prison Then had I been in joy and perfect heal, Where now I am exiled from my weal. Since that I may not see you, Emily, I am but dead; there is no remedy."

Upon that other side, Palamon, When that he wist Arcita was agone, Much sorrow maketh, that the greate tower Resounded of his yelling and clamour The pure* fetters on his shinnes great *very Were of his bitter salte teares wet.

"Alas!" quoth he, "Arcita, cousin mine, Of all our strife, God wot, the fruit is thine. Thou walkest now in Thebes at thy large, And of my woe thou *givest little charge*. *takest little heed* Thou mayst, since thou hast wisdom and manhead*, *manhood, courage Assemble all the folk of our kindred, And make a war so sharp on this country That by some aventure, or some treaty, Thou mayst have her to lady and to wife, For whom that I must needes lose my life. For as by way of possibility, Since thou art at thy large, of prison free, And art a lord, great is thine avantage, More than is mine, that sterve here in a cage. For I must weep and wail, while that I live, With all the woe that prison may me give, And eke with pain that love me gives also, That doubles all my torment and my woe."

Therewith the fire of jealousy upstart Within his breast, and hent* him by the heart *seized So woodly*, that he like was to behold *madly The box-tree, or the ashes dead and cold. Then said; "O cruel goddess, that govern This world with binding of your word etern* *eternal And writen in the table of adamant Your parlement* and your eternal grant, *consultation What is mankind more *unto you y-hold* *by you esteemed Than is the sheep, that rouketh* in the fold! *lie huddled together For slain is man, right as another beast; And dwelleth eke in prison and arrest, And hath sickness, and great adversity, And oftentimes guilteless, pardie* *by God What governance is in your prescience, That guilteless tormenteth innocence? And yet increaseth this all my penance, That man is bounden to his observance For Godde's sake to *letten of his will*, *restrain his desire* Whereas a beast may all his lust fulfil. And when a beast is dead, he hath no pain; But man after his death must weep and plain, Though in this worlde he have care and woe: Withoute doubt it maye standen so. "The answer of this leave I to divines, But well I wot, that in this world great pine* is; *pain, trouble Alas! I see a serpent or a thief That many a true man hath done mischief, Go at his large, and where him list may turn. But I must be in prison through Saturn, And eke through Juno, jealous and eke wood*, *mad That hath well nigh destroyed all the blood Of Thebes, with his waste walles wide. And Venus slay'th me on that other side For jealousy, and fear of him, Arcite."

Now will I stent* of Palamon a lite**, *pause **little And let him in his prison stille dwell, And of Arcita forth I will you tell. The summer passeth, and the nightes long Increase double-wise the paines strong Both of the lover and the prisonere. I n'ot* which hath the wofuller mistere**. *know not **condition For, shortly for to say, this Palamon Perpetually is damned to prison, In chaines and in fetters to be dead; And Arcite is exiled *on his head* *on peril of his head* For evermore as out of that country, Nor never more he shall his lady see. You lovers ask I now this question, Who lieth the worse, Arcite or Palamon? The one may see his lady day by day, But in prison he dwelle must alway. The other where him list may ride or go, But see his lady shall he never mo'. Now deem all as you liste, ye that can, For I will tell you forth as I began.

When that Arcite to Thebes comen was, Full oft a day he swelt*, and said, "Alas!" *fainted For see this lady he shall never mo'. And shortly to concluden all his woe, So much sorrow had never creature That is or shall be while the world may dure. His sleep, his meat, his drink is *him byraft*, *taken away from him* That lean he wex*, and dry as any shaft. *became His eyen hollow, grisly to behold, His hue sallow, and pale as ashes cold, And solitary he was, ever alone, And wailing all the night, making his moan. And if he hearde song or instrument, Then would he weepen, he might not be stent*. *stopped So feeble were his spirits, and so low, And changed so, that no man coulde know His speech, neither his voice, though men it heard. And in his gear* for all the world he far'd *behaviour Not only like the lovers' malady Of Eros, but rather y-like manie* *madness Engender'd of humours melancholic, Before his head in his cell fantastic. And shortly turned was all upside down, Both habit and eke dispositioun, Of him, this woful lover Dan* Arcite. *Lord Why should I all day of his woe indite? When he endured had a year or two This cruel torment, and this pain and woe, At Thebes, in his country, as I said, Upon a night in sleep as he him laid, Him thought how that the winged god Mercury Before him stood, and bade him to be merry. His sleepy yard* in hand he bare upright; *rod A hat he wore upon his haires bright. Arrayed was this god (as he took keep*) *notice As he was when that Argus took his sleep; And said him thus: "To Athens shalt thou wend*; *go There is thee shapen* of thy woe an end." *fixed, prepared And with that word Arcite woke and start. "Now truely how sore that e'er me smart," Quoth he, "to Athens right now will I fare. Nor for no dread of death shall I not spare To see my lady that I love and serve; In her presence *I recke not to sterve.*" *do not care if I die* And with that word he caught a great mirror, And saw that changed was all his colour, And saw his visage all in other kind. And right anon it ran him ill his mind, That since his face was so disfigur'd Of malady the which he had endur'd, He mighte well, if that he *bare him low,* *lived in lowly fashion* Live in Athenes evermore unknow, And see his lady wellnigh day by day. And right anon he changed his array, And clad him as a poore labourer. And all alone, save only a squier, That knew his privity* and all his cas**, *secrets **fortune Which was disguised poorly as he was, To Athens is he gone the nexte* way. *nearest And to the court he went upon a day, And at the gate he proffer'd his service, To drudge and draw, what so men would devise*. *order And, shortly of this matter for to sayn, He fell in office with a chamberlain, The which that dwelling was with Emily. For he was wise, and coulde soon espy Of every servant which that served her. Well could he hewe wood, and water bear, For he was young and mighty for the nones*, *occasion And thereto he was strong and big of bones To do that any wight can him devise.

A year or two he was in this service, Page of the chamber of Emily the bright; And Philostrate he saide that he hight. But half so well belov'd a man as he Ne was there never in court of his degree. He was so gentle of conditioun, That throughout all the court was his renown. They saide that it were a charity That Theseus would *enhance his degree*, *elevate him in rank* And put him in some worshipful service, There as he might his virtue exercise. And thus within a while his name sprung Both of his deedes, and of his good tongue, That Theseus hath taken him so near, That of his chamber he hath made him squire, And gave him gold to maintain his degree; And eke men brought him out of his country From year to year full privily his rent. But honestly and slyly* he it spent, *discreetly, prudently That no man wonder'd how that he it had. And three year in this wise his life be lad*, *led And bare him so in peace and eke in werre*, *war There was no man that Theseus had so derre*. *dear And in this blisse leave I now Arcite, And speak I will of Palamon a lite*. *little

In darkness horrible, and strong prison, This seven year hath sitten Palamon, Forpined*, what for love, and for distress. *pined, wasted away Who feeleth double sorrow and heaviness But Palamon? that love distraineth* so, *afflicts That wood* out of his wits he went for woe, *mad And eke thereto he is a prisonere Perpetual, not only for a year. Who coulde rhyme in English properly His martyrdom? forsooth*, it is not I; *truly Therefore I pass as lightly as I may. It fell that in the seventh year, in May The thirde night (as olde bookes sayn, That all this story tellen more plain), Were it by a venture or destiny (As when a thing is shapen* it shall be), *settled, decreed That soon after the midnight, Palamon By helping of a friend brake his prison, And fled the city fast as he might go, For he had given drink his gaoler so Of a clary , made of a certain wine, With *narcotise and opie* of Thebes fine, *narcotics and opium* That all the night, though that men would him shake, The gaoler slept, he mighte not awake: And thus he fled as fast as ever he may. The night was short, and *faste by the day *close at hand was That needes cast he must himself to hide*. the day during which And to a grove faste there beside he must cast about, or contrive, With dreadful foot then stalked Palamon. to conceal himself.* For shortly this was his opinion, That in the grove he would him hide all day, And in the night then would he take his way To Thebes-ward, his friendes for to pray On Theseus to help him to warray*. *make war And shortly either he would lose his life, Or winnen Emily unto his wife. This is th' effect, and his intention plain.

Now will I turn to Arcita again, That little wist how nighe was his care, Till that Fortune had brought him in the snare. The busy lark, the messenger of day, Saluteth in her song the morning gray; And fiery Phoebus riseth up so bright, That all the orient laugheth at the sight, And with his streames* drieth in the greves** *rays **groves The silver droppes, hanging on the leaves; And Arcite, that is in the court royal With Theseus, his squier principal, Is ris'n, and looketh on the merry day. And for to do his observance to May, Remembering the point* of his desire, *object He on his courser, starting as the fire, Is ridden to the fieldes him to play, Out of the court, were it a mile or tway. And to the grove, of which I have you told, By a venture his way began to hold, To make him a garland of the greves*, *groves Were it of woodbine, or of hawthorn leaves, And loud he sang against the sun so sheen*. *shining bright "O May, with all thy flowers and thy green, Right welcome be thou, faire freshe May, I hope that I some green here getten may." And from his courser*, with a lusty heart, *horse Into the grove full hastily he start, And in a path he roamed up and down, There as by aventure this Palamon Was in a bush, that no man might him see, For sore afeard of his death was he. Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite; God wot he would have *trowed it full lite*. *full little believed it* But sooth is said, gone since full many years, The field hath eyen*, and the wood hath ears, *eyes It is full fair a man *to bear him even*, *to be on his guard* For all day meeten men at *unset steven*. *unexpected time Full little wot Arcite of his fellaw, That was so nigh to hearken of his saw*, *saying, speech For in the bush he sitteth now full still. When that Arcite had roamed all his fill, And *sungen all the roundel* lustily, *sang the roundelay* Into a study he fell suddenly, As do those lovers in their *quainte gears*, *odd fashions* Now in the crop*, and now down in the breres**, *tree-top Now up, now down, as bucket in a well. **briars Right as the Friday, soothly for to tell, Now shineth it, and now it raineth fast, Right so can geary* Venus overcast *changeful The heartes of her folk, right as her day Is gearful*, right so changeth she array. *changeful Seldom is Friday all the weeke like. When Arcite had y-sung, he gan to sike*, *sigh And sat him down withouten any more: "Alas!" quoth he, "the day that I was bore! How longe, Juno, through thy cruelty Wilt thou warrayen* Thebes the city? *torment Alas! y-brought is to confusion The blood royal of Cadm' and Amphion: Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man, That Thebes built, or first the town began, And of the city first was crowned king. Of his lineage am I, and his offspring By very line, as of the stock royal; And now I am *so caitiff and so thrall*, *wretched and enslaved* That he that is my mortal enemy, I serve him as his squier poorely. And yet doth Juno me well more shame, For I dare not beknow* mine owen name, *acknowledge But there as I was wont to hight Arcite, Now hight I Philostrate, not worth a mite. Alas! thou fell Mars, and alas! Juno, Thus hath your ire our lineage all fordo* *undone, ruined Save only me, and wretched Palamon, That Theseus martyreth in prison. And over all this, to slay me utterly, Love hath his fiery dart so brenningly* *burningly Y-sticked through my true careful heart, That shapen was my death erst than my shert. Ye slay me with your eyen, Emily; Ye be the cause wherefore that I die. Of all the remnant of mine other care Ne set I not the *mountance of a tare*, *value of a straw* So that I could do aught to your pleasance."

And with that word he fell down in a trance A longe time; and afterward upstart This Palamon, that thought thorough his heart He felt a cold sword suddenly to glide: For ire he quoke*, no longer would he hide. *quaked And when that he had heard Arcite's tale, As he were wood*, with face dead and pale, *mad He start him up out of the bushes thick, And said: "False Arcita, false traitor wick'*, *wicked Now art thou hent*, that lov'st my lady so, *caught For whom that I have all this pain and woe, And art my blood, and to my counsel sworn, As I full oft have told thee herebeforn, And hast bejaped* here Duke Theseus, *deceived, imposed upon And falsely changed hast thy name thus; I will be dead, or elles thou shalt die. Thou shalt not love my lady Emily, But I will love her only and no mo'; For I am Palamon thy mortal foe. And though I have no weapon in this place, But out of prison am astart* by grace, *escaped I dreade* not that either thou shalt die, *doubt Or else thou shalt not loven Emily. Choose which thou wilt, for thou shalt not astart."

This Arcite then, with full dispiteous* heart, *wrathful When he him knew, and had his tale heard, As fierce as lion pulled out a swerd, And saide thus; "By God that sitt'th above, *N'ere it* that thou art sick, and wood for love, *were it not* And eke that thou no weap'n hast in this place, Thou should'st never out of this grove pace, That thou ne shouldest dien of mine hand. For I defy the surety and the band, Which that thou sayest I have made to thee. What? very fool, think well that love is free; And I will love her maugre* all thy might. *despite But, for thou art a worthy gentle knight, And *wilnest to darraine her by bataille*, *will reclaim her Have here my troth, to-morrow I will not fail, by combat* Without weeting* of any other wight, *knowledge That here I will be founden as a knight, And bringe harness* right enough for thee; *armour and arms And choose the best, and leave the worst for me. And meat and drinke this night will I bring Enough for thee, and clothes for thy bedding. And if so be that thou my lady win, And slay me in this wood that I am in, Thou may'st well have thy lady as for me." This Palamon answer'd, "I grant it thee." And thus they be departed till the morrow, When each of them hath *laid his faith to borrow*. *pledged his faith*

O Cupid, out of alle charity! O Regne* that wilt no fellow have with thee! *queen Full sooth is said, that love nor lordeship Will not, *his thanks*, have any fellowship. *thanks to him* Well finden that Arcite and Palamon. Arcite is ridd anon unto the town, And on the morrow, ere it were daylight, Full privily two harness hath he dight*, *prepared Both suffisant and meete to darraine* *contest The battle in the field betwixt them twain. And on his horse, alone as he was born, He carrieth all this harness him beforn; And in the grove, at time and place y-set, This Arcite and this Palamon be met. Then change gan the colour of their face; Right as the hunter in the regne* of Thrace *kingdom That standeth at a gappe with a spear When hunted is the lion or the bear, And heareth him come rushing in the greves*, *groves And breaking both the boughes and the leaves, Thinketh, "Here comes my mortal enemy, Withoute fail, he must be dead or I; For either I must slay him at the gap; Or he must slay me, if that me mishap:" So fared they, in changing of their hue *As far as either of them other knew*. *When they recognised each There was no good day, and no saluting, other afar off* But straight, withoute wordes rehearsing, Evereach of them holp to arm the other, As friendly, as he were his owen brother. And after that, with sharpe speares strong They foined* each at other wonder long. *thrust Thou mightest weene*, that this Palamon *think In fighting were as a wood* lion, *mad And as a cruel tiger was Arcite: As wilde boars gan they together smite, That froth as white as foam, *for ire wood*. *mad with anger* Up to the ancle fought they in their blood. And in this wise I let them fighting dwell, And forth I will of Theseus you tell.

The Destiny, minister general, That executeth in the world o'er all The purveyance*, that God hath seen beforn; *foreordination So strong it is, that though the world had sworn The contrary of a thing by yea or nay, Yet some time it shall fallen on a day That falleth not eft* in a thousand year. *again For certainly our appetites here, Be it of war, or peace, or hate, or love, All is this ruled by the sight* above. *eye, intelligence, power This mean I now by mighty Theseus, That for to hunten is so desirous — And namely* the greate hart in May — *especially That in his bed there dawneth him no day That he n'is clad, and ready for to ride With hunt and horn, and houndes him beside. For in his hunting hath he such delight, That it is all his joy and appetite To be himself the greate harte's bane* *destruction For after Mars he serveth now Diane. Clear was the day, as I have told ere this, And Theseus, with alle joy and bliss, With his Hippolyta, the faire queen, And Emily, y-clothed all in green, On hunting be they ridden royally. And to the grove, that stood there faste by, In which there was an hart, as men him told, Duke Theseus the straighte way doth hold, And to the laund* he rideth him full right, *plain There was the hart y-wont to have his flight, And over a brook, and so forth on his way. This Duke will have a course at him or tway With houndes, such as him lust* to command. *pleased And when this Duke was come to the laund, Under the sun he looked, and anon He was ware of Arcite and Palamon, That foughte breme*, as it were bulles two. *fiercely The brighte swordes wente to and fro So hideously, that with the leaste stroke It seemed that it woulde fell an oak, But what they were, nothing yet he wote*. *knew This Duke his courser with his spurres smote, *And at a start* he was betwixt them two, *suddenly* And pulled out a sword and cried, "Ho! No more, on pain of losing of your head. By mighty Mars, he shall anon be dead That smiteth any stroke, that I may see! But tell to me what mister* men ye be, *manner, kind That be so hardy for to fighte here Withoute judge or other officer, As though it were in listes royally. This Palamon answered hastily, And saide: "Sir, what needeth wordes mo'? We have the death deserved bothe two, Two woful wretches be we, and caitives, That be accumbered* of our own lives, *burdened And as thou art a rightful lord and judge, So give us neither mercy nor refuge. And slay me first, for sainte charity, But slay my fellow eke as well as me. Or slay him first; for, though thou know it lite*, *little This is thy mortal foe, this is Arcite That from thy land is banisht on his head, For which he hath deserved to be dead. For this is he that came unto thy gate And saide, that he highte Philostrate. Thus hath he japed* thee full many year, *deceived And thou hast made of him thy chief esquier; And this is he, that loveth Emily. For since the day is come that I shall die I make pleinly* my confession, *fully, unreservedly That I am thilke* woful Palamon, *that same That hath thy prison broken wickedly. I am thy mortal foe, and it am I That so hot loveth Emily the bright, That I would die here present in her sight. Therefore I aske death and my jewise*. *judgement But slay my fellow eke in the same wise, For both we have deserved to be slain."

This worthy Duke answer'd anon again, And said, "This is a short conclusion. Your own mouth, by your own confession Hath damned you, and I will it record; It needeth not to pain you with the cord; Ye shall be dead, by mighty Mars the Red.

The queen anon for very womanhead Began to weep, and so did Emily, And all the ladies in the company. Great pity was it as it thought them all, That ever such a chance should befall, For gentle men they were, of great estate, And nothing but for love was this debate They saw their bloody woundes wide and sore, And cried all at once, both less and more, "Have mercy, Lord, upon us women all." And on their bare knees adown they fall And would have kissed his feet there as he stood, Till at the last *aslaked was his mood* *his anger was (For pity runneth soon in gentle heart); appeased* And though at first for ire he quoke and start He hath consider'd shortly in a clause The trespass of them both, and eke the cause: And although that his ire their guilt accused Yet in his reason he them both excused; As thus; he thoughte well that every man Will help himself in love if that he can, And eke deliver himself out of prison. Of women, for they wepten ever-in-one:* *continually And eke his hearte had compassion And in his gentle heart he thought anon, And soft unto himself he saide: "Fie Upon a lord that will have no mercy, But be a lion both in word and deed, To them that be in repentance and dread, As well as-to a proud dispiteous* man *unpitying That will maintaine what he first began. That lord hath little of discretion, That in such case *can no division*: *can make no distinction* But weigheth pride and humbless *after one*." *alike* And shortly, when his ire is thus agone, He gan to look on them with eyen light*, *gentle, lenient* And spake these same wordes *all on height.* *aloud*

"The god of love, ah! benedicite*, *bless ye him How mighty and how great a lord is he! Against his might there gaine* none obstacles, *avail, conquer He may be called a god for his miracles For he can maken at his owen guise Of every heart, as that him list devise. Lo here this Arcite, and this Palamon, That quietly were out of my prison, And might have lived in Thebes royally, And weet* I am their mortal enemy, *knew And that their death li'th in my might also, And yet hath love, *maugre their eyen two*, *in spite of their eyes* Y-brought them hither bothe for to die. Now look ye, is not this an high folly? Who may not be a fool, if but he love? Behold, for Godde's sake that sits above, See how they bleed! be they not well array'd? Thus hath their lord, the god of love, them paid Their wages and their fees for their service; And yet they weene for to be full wise, That serve love, for aught that may befall. But this is yet the beste game* of all, *joke That she, for whom they have this jealousy, Can them therefor as muchel thank as me. She wot no more of all this *hote fare*, *hot behaviour* By God, than wot a cuckoo or an hare. But all must be assayed hot or cold; A man must be a fool, or young or old; I wot it by myself *full yore agone*: *long years ago* For in my time a servant was I one. And therefore since I know of love's pain, And wot how sore it can a man distrain*, *distress As he that oft hath been caught in his last*, *snare I you forgive wholly this trespass, At request of the queen that kneeleth here, And eke of Emily, my sister dear. And ye shall both anon unto me swear, That never more ye shall my country dere* *injure Nor make war upon me night nor day, But be my friends in alle that ye may. I you forgive this trespass *every deal*. *completely* And they him sware *his asking* fair and well, *what he asked* And him of lordship and of mercy pray'd, And he them granted grace, and thus he said:

"To speak of royal lineage and richess, Though that she were a queen or a princess, Each of you both is worthy doubteless To wedde when time is; but natheless I speak as for my sister Emily, For whom ye have this strife and jealousy, Ye wot* yourselves, she may not wed the two *know At once, although ye fight for evermo: But one of you, *all be him loth or lief,* *whether or not he wishes* He must *go pipe into an ivy leaf*: *"go whistle"* This is to say, she may not have you both, All be ye never so jealous, nor so wroth. And therefore I you put in this degree, That each of you shall have his destiny As *him is shape*; and hearken in what wise *as is decreed for him* Lo hear your end of that I shall devise. My will is this, for plain conclusion Withouten any replication*, *reply If that you liketh, take it for the best, That evereach of you shall go where *him lest*, *he pleases Freely without ransom or danger; And this day fifty weekes, *farre ne nerre*, *neither more nor less* Evereach of you shall bring an hundred knights, Armed for listes up at alle rights All ready to darraine* her by bataille, *contend for And this behete* I you withoute fail *promise Upon my troth, and as I am a knight, That whether of you bothe that hath might, That is to say, that whether he or thou May with his hundred, as I spake of now, Slay his contrary, or out of listes drive, Him shall I given Emily to wive, To whom that fortune gives so fair a grace. The listes shall I make here in this place. *And God so wisly on my soule rue*, *may God as surely have As I shall even judge be and true. mercy on my soul* Ye shall none other ende with me maken Than one of you shalle be dead or taken. And if you thinketh this is well y-said, Say your advice*, and hold yourselves apaid**. *opinion **satisfied This is your end, and your conclusion." Who looketh lightly now but Palamon? Who springeth up for joye but Arcite? Who could it tell, or who could it indite, The joye that is maked in the place When Theseus hath done so fair a grace? But down on knees went every *manner wight*, *kind of person* And thanked him with all their heartes' might, And namely* these Thebans *ofte sithe*. *especially *oftentimes* And thus with good hope and with hearte blithe They take their leave, and homeward gan they ride To Thebes-ward, with his old walles wide.

I trow men woulde deem it negligence, If I forgot to telle the dispence* *expenditure Of Theseus, that went so busily To maken up the listes royally, That such a noble theatre as it was, I dare well say, in all this world there n'as*. *was not The circuit a mile was about, Walled of stone, and ditched all without. *Round was the shape, in manner of compass, Full of degrees, the height of sixty pas* *see note * That when a man was set on one degree He letted* not his fellow for to see. *hindered Eastward there stood a gate of marble white, Westward right such another opposite. And, shortly to conclude, such a place Was never on earth made in so little space, For in the land there was no craftes-man, That geometry or arsmetrike* can**, *arithmetic **knew Nor pourtrayor*, nor carver of images, *portrait painter That Theseus ne gave him meat and wages The theatre to make and to devise. And for to do his rite and sacrifice He eastward hath upon the gate above, In worship of Venus, goddess of love, *Done make* an altar and an oratory; *caused to be made* And westward, in the mind and in memory Of Mars, he maked hath right such another, That coste largely of gold a fother*. *a great amount And northward, in a turret on the wall, Of alabaster white and red coral An oratory riche for to see, In worship of Diane of chastity, Hath Theseus done work in noble wise. But yet had I forgotten to devise* *describe The noble carving, and the portraitures, The shape, the countenance of the figures That weren in there oratories three.

First in the temple of Venus may'st thou see Wrought on the wall, full piteous to behold, The broken sleepes, and the sikes* cold, *sighes The sacred teares, and the waimentings*, *lamentings The fiery strokes of the desirings, That Love's servants in this life endure; The oathes, that their covenants assure. Pleasance and Hope, Desire, Foolhardiness, Beauty and Youth, and Bawdry and Richess, Charms and Sorc'ry, Leasings* and Flattery, *falsehoods Dispence, Business, and Jealousy, That wore of yellow goldes* a garland, *sunflowers And had a cuckoo sitting on her hand, Feasts, instruments, and caroles and dances, Lust and array, and all the circumstances Of Love, which I reckon'd and reckon shall In order, were painted on the wall, And more than I can make of mention. For soothly all the mount of Citheron, Where Venus hath her principal dwelling, Was showed on the wall in pourtraying, With all the garden, and the lustiness*. *pleasantness Nor was forgot the porter Idleness, Nor Narcissus the fair of *yore agone*, *olden times* Nor yet the folly of King Solomon, Nor yet the greate strength of Hercules, Th' enchantments of Medea and Circes, Nor of Turnus the hardy fierce courage, The rich Croesus *caitif in servage.* *abased into slavery* Thus may ye see, that wisdom nor richess, Beauty, nor sleight, nor strength, nor hardiness Ne may with Venus holde champartie*, *divided possession For as her liste the world may she gie*. *guide Lo, all these folk so caught were in her las* *snare Till they for woe full often said, Alas! Suffice these ensamples one or two, Although I could reckon a thousand mo'.

The statue of Venus, glorious to see Was naked floating in the large sea, And from the navel down all cover'd was With waves green, and bright as any glass. A citole in her right hand hadde she, And on her head, full seemly for to see, A rose garland fresh, and well smelling, Above her head her doves flickering Before her stood her sone Cupido, Upon his shoulders winges had he two; And blind he was, as it is often seen; A bow he bare, and arrows bright and keen.

Why should I not as well eke tell you all The portraiture, that was upon the wall Within the temple of mighty Mars the Red? All painted was the wall in length and brede* *breadth Like to the estres* of the grisly place *interior chambers That hight the great temple of Mars in Thrace, In thilke* cold and frosty region, *that There as Mars hath his sovereign mansion. In which there dwelled neither man nor beast, With knotty gnarry* barren trees old *gnarled Of stubbes sharp and hideous to behold; In which there ran a rumble and a sough*, *groaning noise As though a storm should bursten every bough: And downward from an hill under a bent* *slope There stood the temple of Mars Armipotent, Wrought all of burnish'd steel, of which th' entry Was long and strait, and ghastly for to see. And thereout came *a rage and such a vise*, *such a furious voice* That it made all the gates for to rise. The northern light in at the doore shone, For window on the walle was there none Through which men mighten any light discern. The doors were all of adamant etern, Y-clenched *overthwart and ende-long* *crossways and lengthways* With iron tough, and, for to make it strong, Every pillar the temple to sustain Was tunne-great*, of iron bright and sheen. *thick as a tun (barrel) There saw I first the dark imagining Of felony, and all the compassing; The cruel ire, as red as any glede*, *live coal The picke-purse, and eke the pale dread; The smiler with the knife under the cloak, The shepen* burning with the blacke smoke *stable The treason of the murd'ring in the bed, The open war, with woundes all be-bled; Conteke* with bloody knife, and sharp menace. *contention, discord All full of chirking* was that sorry place. *creaking, jarring noise The slayer of himself eke saw I there, His hearte-blood had bathed all his hair: The nail y-driven in the shode* at night, *hair of the head The colde death, with mouth gaping upright. Amiddes of the temple sat Mischance, With discomfort and sorry countenance; Eke saw I Woodness* laughing in his rage, *Madness Armed Complaint, Outhees*, and fierce Outrage; *Outcry The carrain* in the bush, with throat y-corve**, *corpse **slashed A thousand slain, and not *of qualm y-storve*; *dead of sickness* The tyrant, with the prey by force y-reft; The town destroy'd, that there was nothing left. Yet saw I brent* the shippes hoppesteres, *burnt The hunter strangled with the wilde bears: The sow freting* the child right in the cradle; *devouring The cook scalded, for all his longe ladle. Nor was forgot, *by th'infortune of Mart* *through the misfortune The carter overridden with his cart; of war* Under the wheel full low he lay adown. There were also of Mars' division, The armourer, the bowyer*, and the smith, *maker of bows That forgeth sharp swordes on his stith*. *anvil And all above depainted in a tower Saw I Conquest, sitting in great honour, With thilke* sharpe sword over his head *that Hanging by a subtle y-twined thread. Painted the slaughter was of Julius, Of cruel Nero, and Antonius: Although at that time they were yet unborn, Yet was their death depainted there beforn, By menacing of Mars, right by figure, So was it showed in that portraiture, As is depainted in the stars above, Who shall be slain, or elles dead for love. Sufficeth one ensample in stories old, I may not reckon them all, though I wo'ld.

The statue of Mars upon a carte* stood *chariot Armed, and looked grim as he were wood*, *mad And over his head there shone two figures Of starres, that be cleped in scriptures, That one Puella, that other Rubeus. This god of armes was arrayed thus: A wolf there stood before him at his feet With eyen red, and of a man he eat: With subtle pencil painted was this story, In redouting* of Mars and of his glory. *reverance, fear

Now to the temple of Dian the chaste As shortly as I can I will me haste, To telle you all the descriptioun. Depainted be the walles up and down Of hunting and of shamefast chastity. There saw I how woful Calistope, When that Dian aggrieved was with her, Was turned from a woman to a bear, And after was she made the lodestar*: *pole star Thus was it painted, I can say no far*; *farther Her son is eke a star as men may see. There saw I Dane turn'd into a tree, I meane not the goddess Diane, But Peneus' daughter, which that hight Dane. There saw I Actaeon an hart y-maked*, *made For vengeance that he saw Dian all naked: I saw how that his houndes have him caught, And freten* him, for that they knew him not. *devour Yet painted was, a little farthermore How Atalanta hunted the wild boar; And Meleager, and many other mo', For which Diana wrought them care and woe. There saw I many another wondrous story, The which me list not drawen to memory. This goddess on an hart full high was set*, *seated With smalle houndes all about her feet, And underneath her feet she had a moon, Waxing it was, and shoulde wane soon. In gaudy green her statue clothed was, With bow in hand, and arrows in a case*. *quiver Her eyen caste she full low adown, Where Pluto hath his darke regioun. A woman travailing was her beforn, But, for her child so longe was unborn, Full piteously Lucina gan she call, And saide; "Help, for thou may'st best of all." Well could he painte lifelike that it wrought; With many a florin he the hues had bought. Now be these listes made, and Theseus, That at his greate cost arrayed thus The temples, and the theatre every deal*, *part When it was done, him liked wonder well.

But stint* I will of Theseus a lite**, *cease speaking **little And speak of Palamon and of Arcite. The day approacheth of their returning, That evereach an hundred knights should bring, The battle to darraine* as I you told; *contest And to Athens, their covenant to hold, Hath ev'reach of them brought an hundred knights, Well-armed for the war at alle rights. And sickerly* there trowed** many a man, *surely **believed That never, sithen* that the world began, *since For to speaken of knighthood of their hand, As far as God hath maked sea and land, Was, of so few, so noble a company. For every wight that loved chivalry, And would, *his thankes, have a passant name*, *thanks to his own Had prayed, that he might be of that game, efforts, have a And well was him, that thereto chosen was. surpassing name* For if there fell to-morrow such a case, Ye knowe well, that every lusty knight, That loveth par amour, and hath his might Were it in Engleland, or elleswhere, They would, their thankes, willen to be there, T' fight for a lady; Benedicite, It were a lusty* sighte for to see. *pleasing And right so fared they with Palamon; With him there wente knightes many one. Some will be armed in an habergeon, And in a breast-plate, and in a gipon*; *short doublet. And some will have *a pair of plates* large; *back and front armour* And some will have a Prusse* shield, or targe; *Prussian Some will be armed on their legges weel; Some have an axe, and some a mace of steel. There is no newe guise*, but it was old. *fashion Armed they weren, as I have you told, Evereach after his opinion. There may'st thou see coming with Palamon Licurgus himself, the great king of Thrace: Black was his beard, and manly was his face. The circles of his eyen in his head They glowed betwixte yellow and red, And like a griffin looked he about, With kemped* haires on his browes stout; *combed His limbs were great, his brawns were hard and strong, His shoulders broad, his armes round and long. And as the guise* was in his country, *fashion Full high upon a car of gold stood he, With foure white bulles in the trace. Instead of coat-armour on his harness, With yellow nails, and bright as any gold, He had a beare's skin, coal-black for old*. *age His long hair was y-kempt behind his back, As any raven's feather it shone for black. A wreath of gold *arm-great*, of huge weight, *thick as a man's arm* Upon his head sate, full of stones bright, Of fine rubies and clear diamants. About his car there wente white alauns*, *greyhounds Twenty and more, as great as any steer, To hunt the lion or the wilde bear, And follow'd him, with muzzle fast y-bound, Collars of gold, and torettes* filed round. *rings An hundred lordes had he in his rout* *retinue Armed full well, with heartes stern and stout.

With Arcita, in stories as men find, The great Emetrius the king of Ind, Upon a *steede bay* trapped in steel, *bay horse* Cover'd with cloth of gold diapred* well, *decorated Came riding like the god of armes, Mars. His coat-armour was of *a cloth of Tars*, *a kind of silk* Couched* with pearls white and round and great *trimmed His saddle was of burnish'd gold new beat; A mantelet on his shoulders hanging, Bretful* of rubies red, as fire sparkling. *brimful His crispe hair like ringes was y-run, And that was yellow, glittering as the sun. His nose was high, his eyen bright citrine*, *pale yellow His lips were round, his colour was sanguine, A fewe fracknes* in his face y-sprent**, *freckles **sprinkled Betwixte yellow and black somedeal y-ment* *mixed And as a lion he *his looking cast* *cast about his eyes* Of five and twenty year his age I cast* *reckon His beard was well begunnen for to spring; His voice was as a trumpet thundering. Upon his head he wore of laurel green A garland fresh and lusty to be seen; Upon his hand he bare, for his delight, An eagle tame, as any lily white. An hundred lordes had he with him there, All armed, save their heads, in all their gear, Full richely in alle manner things. For trust ye well, that earles, dukes, and kings Were gather'd in this noble company, For love, and for increase of chivalry. About this king there ran on every part Full many a tame lion and leopart. And in this wise these lordes *all and some* *all and sundry* Be on the Sunday to the city come Aboute prime, and in the town alight.

This Theseus, this Duke, this worthy knight When he had brought them into his city, And inned* them, ev'reach at his degree, *lodged He feasteth them, and doth so great labour To *easen them*, and do them all honour, *make them comfortable* That yet men weene* that no mannes wit *think Of none estate could amenden* it. *improve The minstrelsy, the service at the feast, The greate giftes to the most and least, The rich array of Theseus' palace, Nor who sate first or last upon the dais. What ladies fairest be, or best dancing Or which of them can carol best or sing, Or who most feelingly speaketh of love; What hawkes sitten on the perch above, What houndes liggen* on the floor adown, *lie Of all this now make I no mentioun But of th'effect; that thinketh me the best Now comes the point, and hearken if you lest.* *please

The Sunday night, ere day began to spring, When Palamon the larke hearde sing, Although it were not day by houres two, Yet sang the lark, and Palamon right tho* *then With holy heart, and with an high courage, Arose, to wenden* on his pilgrimage *go Unto the blissful Cithera benign, I meane Venus, honourable and digne*. *worthy And in her hour he walketh forth a pace Unto the listes, where her temple was, And down he kneeleth, and with humble cheer* *demeanour And hearte sore, he said as ye shall hear.

"Fairest of fair, O lady mine Venus, Daughter to Jove, and spouse of Vulcanus, Thou gladder of the mount of Citheron! For thilke love thou haddest to Adon Have pity on my bitter teares smart, And take mine humble prayer to thine heart. Alas! I have no language to tell Th'effecte, nor the torment of mine hell; Mine hearte may mine harmes not betray; I am so confused, that I cannot say. But mercy, lady bright, that knowest well My thought, and seest what harm that I feel. Consider all this, and *rue upon* my sore, *take pity on* As wisly* as I shall for evermore *truly Enforce my might, thy true servant to be, And holde war alway with chastity: That make I mine avow*, so ye me help. *vow, promise I keepe not of armes for to yelp,* *boast Nor ask I not to-morrow to have victory, Nor renown in this case, nor vaine glory Of *prize of armes*, blowing up and down, *praise for valour* But I would have fully possessioun Of Emily, and die in her service; Find thou the manner how, and in what wise. I *recke not but* it may better be *do not know whether* To have vict'ry of them, or they of me, So that I have my lady in mine arms. For though so be that Mars is god of arms, Your virtue is so great in heaven above, That, if you list, I shall well have my love. Thy temple will I worship evermo', And on thine altar, where I ride or go, I will do sacrifice, and fires bete*. *make, kindle And if ye will not so, my lady sweet, Then pray I you, to-morrow with a spear That Arcita me through the hearte bear Then reck I not, when I have lost my life, Though that Arcita win her to his wife. This is th' effect and end of my prayere, — Give me my love, thou blissful lady dear." When th' orison was done of Palamon, His sacrifice he did, and that anon, Full piteously, with alle circumstances, *All tell I not as now* his observances. *although I tell not now* But at the last the statue of Venus shook, And made a signe, whereby that he took That his prayer accepted was that day. For though the signe shewed a delay, Yet wist he well that granted was his boon; And with glad heart he went him home full soon.

The third hour unequal that Palamon Began to Venus' temple for to gon, Up rose the sun, and up rose Emily, And to the temple of Dian gan hie. Her maidens, that she thither with her lad*, *led Th' incense, the clothes, and the remnant all That to the sacrifice belonge shall, The hornes full of mead, as was the guise; There lacked nought to do her sacrifice. Smoking* the temple full of clothes fair, *draping This Emily with hearte debonnair* *gentle Her body wash'd with water of a well. But how she did her rite I dare not tell; But* it be any thing in general; *unless And yet it were a game* to hearen all *pleasure To him that meaneth well it were no charge: But it is good a man to *be at large*. *do as he will* Her bright hair combed was, untressed all. A coronet of green oak cerriall Upon her head was set full fair and meet. Two fires on the altar gan she bete, And did her thinges, as men may behold In Stace of Thebes , and these bookes old. When kindled was the fire, with piteous cheer Unto Dian she spake as ye may hear.

"O chaste goddess of the woodes green, To whom both heav'n and earth and sea is seen, Queen of the realm of Pluto dark and low, Goddess of maidens, that mine heart hast know Full many a year, and wost* what I desire, *knowest To keep me from the vengeance of thine ire, That Actaeon aboughte* cruelly: *earned; suffered from Chaste goddess, well wottest thou that I Desire to be a maiden all my life, Nor never will I be no love nor wife. I am, thou wost*, yet of thy company, *knowest A maid, and love hunting and venery*, *field sports And for to walken in the woodes wild, And not to be a wife, and be with child. Nought will I know the company of man. Now help me, lady, since ye may and can, For those three formes that thou hast in thee. And Palamon, that hath such love to me, And eke Arcite, that loveth me so sore, This grace I pray thee withoute more, As sende love and peace betwixt them two: And from me turn away their heartes so, That all their hote love, and their desire, And all their busy torment, and their fire, Be queint*, or turn'd into another place. *quenched And if so be thou wilt do me no grace, Or if my destiny be shapen so That I shall needes have one of them two, So send me him that most desireth me. Behold, goddess of cleane chastity, The bitter tears that on my cheekes fall. Since thou art maid, and keeper of us all, My maidenhead thou keep and well conserve, And, while I live, a maid I will thee serve.

The fires burn upon the altar clear, While Emily was thus in her prayere: But suddenly she saw a sighte quaint*. *strange For right anon one of the fire's *queint And quick'd* again, and after that anon *went out and revived* That other fire was queint, and all agone: And as it queint, it made a whisteling, As doth a brande wet in its burning. And at the brandes end outran anon As it were bloody droppes many one: For which so sore aghast was Emily, That she was well-nigh mad, and gan to cry, For she ne wiste what it signified; But onely for feare thus she cried, And wept, that it was pity for to hear. And therewithal Diana gan appear With bow in hand, right as an hunteress, And saide; "Daughter, stint* thine heaviness. *cease Among the goddes high it is affirm'd, And by eternal word writ and confirm'd, Thou shalt be wedded unto one of tho* *those That have for thee so muche care and woe: But unto which of them I may not tell. Farewell, for here I may no longer dwell. The fires which that on mine altar brenn*, *burn Shall thee declaren, ere that thou go henne*, *hence Thine aventure of love, as in this case." And with that word, the arrows in the case* *quiver Of the goddess did clatter fast and ring, And forth she went, and made a vanishing, For which this Emily astonied was, And saide; "What amounteth this, alas! I put me under thy protection, Diane, and in thy disposition." And home she went anon the nexte* way. *nearest This is th' effect, there is no more to say.

The nexte hour of Mars following this Arcite to the temple walked is Of fierce Mars, to do his sacrifice With all the rites of his pagan guise. With piteous* heart and high devotion *pious Right thus to Mars he said his orison "O stronge god, that in the regnes* old *realms Of Thrace honoured art, and lord y-hold* *held And hast in every regne, and every land Of armes all the bridle in thine hand, And *them fortunest as thee list devise*, *send them fortune Accept of me my piteous sacrifice. as you please* If so be that my youthe may deserve, And that my might be worthy for to serve Thy godhead, that I may be one of thine, Then pray I thee to *rue upon my pine*, *pity my anguish* For thilke* pain, and thilke hote fire, *that In which thou whilom burned'st for desire Whenne that thou usedest* the beauty *enjoyed Of faire young Venus, fresh and free, And haddest her in armes at thy will: And though thee ones on a time misfill*, *were unlucky When Vulcanus had caught thee in his las*, *net And found thee ligging* by his wife, alas! *lying For thilke sorrow that was in thine heart, Have ruth* as well upon my paine's smart. *pity I am young and unconning*, as thou know'st, *ignorant, simple And, as I trow*, with love offended most *believe That e'er was any living creature: For she, that doth* me all this woe endure, *causes Ne recketh ne'er whether I sink or fleet* *swim And well I wot, ere she me mercy hete*, *promise, vouchsafe I must with strengthe win her in the place: And well I wot, withoute help or grace Of thee, ne may my strengthe not avail: Then help me, lord, to-morr'w in my bataille, For thilke fire that whilom burned thee, As well as this fire that now burneth me; And do* that I to-morr'w may have victory. *cause Mine be the travail, all thine be the glory. Thy sovereign temple will I most honour Of any place, and alway most labour In thy pleasance and in thy craftes strong. And in thy temple I will my banner hong*, *hang And all the armes of my company, And evermore, until that day I die, Eternal fire I will before thee find And eke to this my vow I will me bind: My beard, my hair that hangeth long adown, That never yet hath felt offension* *indignity Of razor nor of shears, I will thee give, And be thy true servant while I live. Now, lord, have ruth upon my sorrows sore, Give me the victory, I ask no more."