Читать книгу Geoffrey Chaucer: The Canterbury Tales (English Edition) - Geoffrey Chaucer - Страница 6

WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet

The drought of March hath pierced to the root,

And bathed every vein in such licour,

Of which virtue engender'd is the flower;

When Zephyrus eke with his swoote breath

Inspired hath in every holt* and heath *grove, forest

The tender croppes* and the younge sun *twigs, boughs

Hath in the Ram <1> his halfe course y-run,

And smalle fowles make melody,

That sleepen all the night with open eye,

(So pricketh them nature in their corages*); *hearts, inclinations

Then longe folk to go on pilgrimages,

And palmers <2> for to seeke strange strands,

To *ferne hallows couth* in sundry lands; *distant saints known*<3>

And specially, from every shire's end

Of Engleland, to Canterbury they wend,

The holy blissful Martyr for to seek,

That them hath holpen*, when that they were sick. *helped

Befell that, in that season on a day,

In Southwark at the Tabard <4> as I lay,

Ready to wenden on my pilgrimage

To Canterbury with devout corage,

At night was come into that hostelry

Well nine and twenty in a company

Of sundry folk, *by aventure y-fall *who had by chance fallen

In fellowship*, and pilgrims were they all, into company.* <5>

That toward Canterbury woulde ride.

The chamber, and the stables were wide,

And *well we weren eased at the best.* *we were well provided

And shortly, when the sunne was to rest, with the best*

So had I spoken with them every one,

That I was of their fellowship anon,

And made forword* early for to rise, *promise

To take our way there as I you devise*. *describe, relate

But natheless, while I have time and space,

Ere that I farther in this tale pace,

Me thinketh it accordant to reason,

To tell you alle the condition

Of each of them, so as it seemed me,

And which they weren, and of what degree;

And eke in what array that they were in:

And at a Knight then will I first begin.

A KNIGHT there was, and that a worthy man,

That from the time that he first began

To riden out, he loved chivalry,

Truth and honour, freedom and courtesy.

Full worthy was he in his Lorde's war,

And thereto had he ridden, no man farre*, *farther

As well in Christendom as in Heatheness,

And ever honour'd for his worthiness

At Alisandre <6> he was when it was won.

Full often time he had the board begun

Above alle nations in Prusse.<7>

In Lettowe had he reysed,* and in Russe, *journeyed

No Christian man so oft of his degree.

In Grenade at the siege eke had he be

Of Algesir, and ridden in Belmarie. <8>

At Leyes was he, and at Satalie,

When they were won; and in the Greate Sea

At many a noble army had he be.

At mortal battles had he been fifteen,

And foughten for our faith at Tramissene.

In listes thries, and aye slain his foe.

This ilke* worthy knight had been also *same <9>

Some time with the lord of Palatie,

Against another heathen in Turkie:

And evermore *he had a sovereign price*. *He was held in very

And though that he was worthy he was wise, high esteem.*

And of his port as meek as is a maid.

He never yet no villainy ne said

In all his life, unto no manner wight.

He was a very perfect gentle knight.

But for to telle you of his array,

His horse was good, but yet he was not gay.

Of fustian he weared a gipon*, *short doublet

Alle *besmotter'd with his habergeon,* *soiled by his coat of mail.*

For he was late y-come from his voyage,

And wente for to do his pilgrimage.

With him there was his son, a younge SQUIRE,

A lover, and a lusty bacheler,

With lockes crulle* as they were laid in press. *curled

Of twenty year of age he was I guess.

Of his stature he was of even length,

And *wonderly deliver*, and great of strength. *wonderfully nimble*

And he had been some time in chevachie*, *cavalry raids

In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardie,

And borne him well, *as of so little space*, *in such a short time*

In hope to standen in his lady's grace.

Embroider'd was he, as it were a mead

All full of freshe flowers, white and red.

Singing he was, or fluting all the day;

He was as fresh as is the month of May.

Short was his gown, with sleeves long and wide.

Well could he sit on horse, and faire ride.

He coulde songes make, and well indite,

Joust, and eke dance, and well pourtray and write.

So hot he loved, that by nightertale* *night-time

He slept no more than doth the nightingale.

Courteous he was, lowly, and serviceable,

And carv'd before his father at the table.<10>

A YEOMAN had he, and servants no mo'

At that time, for *him list ride so* *it pleased him so to ride*

And he was clad in coat and hood of green.

A sheaf of peacock arrows<11> bright and keen

Under his belt he bare full thriftily.

Well could he dress his tackle yeomanly:

His arrows drooped not with feathers low;

And in his hand he bare a mighty bow.

A nut-head <12> had he, with a brown visiage:

Of wood-craft coud* he well all the usage: *knew

Upon his arm he bare a gay bracer*, *small shield

And by his side a sword and a buckler,

And on that other side a gay daggere,

Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spear:

A Christopher on his breast of silver sheen.

An horn he bare, the baldric was of green:

A forester was he soothly* as I guess. *certainly

There was also a Nun, a PRIORESS,

That of her smiling was full simple and coy;

Her greatest oathe was but by Saint Loy;

And she was cleped* Madame Eglentine. *called

Full well she sang the service divine,

Entuned in her nose full seemly;

And French she spake full fair and fetisly* *properly

After the school of Stratford atte Bow,

For French of Paris was to her unknow.

At meate was she well y-taught withal;

She let no morsel from her lippes fall,

Nor wet her fingers in her sauce deep.

Well could she carry a morsel, and well keep,

That no droppe ne fell upon her breast.

In courtesy was set full much her lest*. *pleasure

Her over-lippe wiped she so clean,

That in her cup there was no farthing* seen *speck

Of grease, when she drunken had her draught;

Full seemely after her meat she raught*: *reached out her hand

And *sickerly she was of great disport*, *surely she was of a lively

And full pleasant, and amiable of port, disposition*

And *pained her to counterfeite cheer *took pains to assume

Of court,* and be estately of mannere, a courtly disposition*

And to be holden digne* of reverence. *worthy

But for to speaken of her conscience,

She was so charitable and so pitous,* *full of pity

She woulde weep if that she saw a mouse

Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled.

Of smalle houndes had she, that she fed

With roasted flesh, and milk, and *wastel bread.* *finest white bread*

But sore she wept if one of them were dead,

Or if men smote it with a yarde* smart: *staff

And all was conscience and tender heart.

Full seemly her wimple y-pinched was;

Her nose tretis;* her eyen gray as glass;<13> *well-formed

Her mouth full small, and thereto soft and red;

But sickerly she had a fair forehead.

It was almost a spanne broad I trow;

For *hardily she was not undergrow*. *certainly she was not small*

Full fetis* was her cloak, as I was ware. *neat

Of small coral about her arm she bare

A pair of beades, gauded all with green;

And thereon hung a brooch of gold full sheen,

On which was first y-written a crown'd A,

And after, *Amor vincit omnia.* *love conquers all*

Another Nun also with her had she,

[That was her chapelleine, and PRIESTES three.]

A MONK there was, a fair *for the mast'ry*, *above all others*<14>

An out-rider, that loved venery*; *hunting

A manly man, to be an abbot able.

Full many a dainty horse had he in stable:

And when he rode, men might his bridle hear

Jingeling <15> in a whistling wind as clear,

And eke as loud, as doth the chapel bell,

There as this lord was keeper of the cell.

The rule of Saint Maur and of Saint Benet, <16>

Because that it was old and somedeal strait

This ilke* monk let olde thinges pace, *same

And held after the newe world the trace.

He *gave not of the text a pulled hen,* *he cared nothing

That saith, that hunters be not holy men: for the text*

Ne that a monk, when he is cloisterless;

Is like to a fish that is waterless;

This is to say, a monk out of his cloister.

This ilke text held he not worth an oyster;

And I say his opinion was good.

Why should he study, and make himselfe wood* *mad <17>

Upon a book in cloister always pore,

Or swinken* with his handes, and labour, *toil

As Austin bid? how shall the world be served?

Let Austin have his swink to him reserved.

Therefore he was a prickasour* aright: *hard rider

Greyhounds he had as swift as fowl of flight;

Of pricking* and of hunting for the hare *riding

Was all his lust,* for no cost would he spare. *pleasure

I saw his sleeves *purfil'd at the hand *worked at the end with a

With gris,* and that the finest of the land. fur called "gris"*

And for to fasten his hood under his chin,

He had of gold y-wrought a curious pin;

A love-knot in the greater end there was.

His head was bald, and shone as any glass,

And eke his face, as it had been anoint;

He was a lord full fat and in good point;

His eyen steep,* and rolling in his head, *deep-set

That steamed as a furnace of a lead.

His bootes supple, his horse in great estate,

Now certainly he was a fair prelate;

He was not pale as a forpined* ghost; *wasted

A fat swan lov'd he best of any roast.

His palfrey was as brown as is a berry.

A FRIAR there was, a wanton and a merry,

A limitour <18>, a full solemne man.

In all the orders four is none that can* *knows

So much of dalliance and fair language.

He had y-made full many a marriage

Of younge women, at his owen cost.

Unto his order he was a noble post;

Full well belov'd, and familiar was he

With franklins *over all* in his country, *everywhere*

And eke with worthy women of the town:

For he had power of confession,

As said himselfe, more than a curate,

For of his order he was licentiate.

Full sweetely heard he confession,

And pleasant was his absolution.

He was an easy man to give penance,

*There as he wist to have a good pittance:* *where he know he would

For unto a poor order for to give get good payment*

Is signe that a man is well y-shrive.

For if he gave, he *durste make avant*, *dared to boast*

He wiste* that the man was repentant. *knew

For many a man so hard is of his heart,

He may not weep although him sore smart.

Therefore instead of weeping and prayeres,

Men must give silver to the poore freres.

His tippet was aye farsed* full of knives *stuffed

And pinnes, for to give to faire wives;

And certainly he had a merry note:

Well could he sing and playen *on a rote*; *from memory*

Of yeddings* he bare utterly the prize. *songs

His neck was white as is the fleur-de-lis.

Thereto he strong was as a champion,

And knew well the taverns in every town.

And every hosteler and gay tapstere,

Better than a lazar* or a beggere, *leper

For unto such a worthy man as he

Accordeth not, as by his faculty,

To have with such lazars acquaintance.

It is not honest, it may not advance,

As for to deale with no such pouraille*, *offal, refuse

But all with rich, and sellers of vitaille*. *victuals

And *ov'r all there as* profit should arise, *in every place where&

Courteous he was, and lowly of service;

There n'as no man nowhere so virtuous.

He was the beste beggar in all his house:

And gave a certain farme for the grant, <19>

None of his bretheren came in his haunt.

For though a widow hadde but one shoe,

So pleasant was his In Principio,<20>

Yet would he have a farthing ere he went;

His purchase was well better than his rent.

And rage he could and play as any whelp,

In lovedays <21>; there could he muchel* help. *greatly

For there was he not like a cloisterer,

With threadbare cope as is a poor scholer;

But he was like a master or a pope.

Of double worsted was his semicope*, *short cloak

That rounded was as a bell out of press.

Somewhat he lisped for his wantonness,

To make his English sweet upon his tongue;

And in his harping, when that he had sung,

His eyen* twinkled in his head aright, *eyes

As do the starres in a frosty night.

This worthy limitour <18> was call'd Huberd.

A MERCHANT was there with a forked beard,

In motley, and high on his horse he sat,

Upon his head a Flandrish beaver hat.

His bootes clasped fair and fetisly*. *neatly

His reasons aye spake he full solemnly,

Sounding alway th' increase of his winning.

He would the sea were kept <22> for any thing

Betwixte Middleburg and Orewell<23>

Well could he in exchange shieldes* sell *crown coins <24>

This worthy man full well his wit beset*; *employed

There wiste* no wight** that he was in debt, *knew **man

So *estately was he of governance* *so well he managed*

With his bargains, and with his chevisance*. *business contract

For sooth he was a worthy man withal,

But sooth to say, I n'ot* how men him call. *know not

A CLERK there was of Oxenford* also, *Oxford

That unto logic hadde long y-go*. *devoted himself

As leane was his horse as is a rake,

And he was not right fat, I undertake;

But looked hollow*, and thereto soberly**. *thin; **poorly

Full threadbare was his *overest courtepy*, *uppermost short cloak*

For he had gotten him yet no benefice,

Ne was not worldly, to have an office.

For him was lever* have at his bed's head *rather

Twenty bookes, clothed in black or red,

Of Aristotle, and his philosophy,

Than robes rich, or fiddle, or psalt'ry.

But all be that he was a philosopher,

Yet hadde he but little gold in coffer,

But all that he might of his friendes hent*, *obtain

On bookes and on learning he it spent,

And busily gan for the soules pray

Of them that gave him <25> wherewith to scholay* *study

Of study took he moste care and heed.

Not one word spake he more than was need;

And that was said in form and reverence,

And short and quick, and full of high sentence.

Sounding in moral virtue was his speech,

And gladly would he learn, and gladly teach.

A SERGEANT OF THE LAW, wary and wise,

That often had y-been at the Parvis, <26>

There was also, full rich of excellence.

Discreet he was, and of great reverence:

He seemed such, his wordes were so wise,

Justice he was full often in assize,

By patent, and by plein* commission; *full

For his science, and for his high renown,

Of fees and robes had he many one.

So great a purchaser was nowhere none.

All was fee simple to him, in effect

His purchasing might not be in suspect* *suspicion

Nowhere so busy a man as he there was

And yet he seemed busier than he was

In termes had he case' and doomes* all *judgements

That from the time of King Will. were fall.

Thereto he could indite, and make a thing

There coulde no wight *pinch at* his writing. *find fault with*

And every statute coud* he plain by rote *knew

He rode but homely in a medley* coat, *multicoloured

Girt with a seint* of silk, with barres small; *sash

Of his array tell I no longer tale.

A FRANKELIN* was in this company; *Rich landowner

White was his beard, as is the daisy.

Of his complexion he was sanguine.

Well lov'd he in the morn a sop in wine.

To liven in delight was ever his won*, *wont

For he was Epicurus' owen son,

That held opinion, that plein* delight *full

Was verily felicity perfite.

An householder, and that a great, was he;

Saint Julian<27> he was in his country.

His bread, his ale, was alway *after one*; *pressed on one*

A better envined* man was nowhere none; *stored with wine

Withoute bake-meat never was his house,

Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous,

It snowed in his house of meat and drink,

Of alle dainties that men coulde think.

After the sundry seasons of the year,

So changed he his meat and his soupere.

Full many a fat partridge had he in mew*, *cage <28>

And many a bream, and many a luce* in stew**<29> *pike **fish-pond

Woe was his cook, *but if* his sauce were *unless*

Poignant and sharp, and ready all his gear.

His table dormant* in his hall alway *fixed

Stood ready cover'd all the longe day.

At sessions there was he lord and sire.

Full often time he was *knight of the shire* *Member of Parliament*

An anlace*, and a gipciere** all of silk, *dagger **purse

Hung at his girdle, white as morning milk.

A sheriff had he been, and a countour<30>

Was nowhere such a worthy vavasour<31>.

An HABERDASHER, and a CARPENTER,

A WEBBE*, a DYER, and a TAPISER**, *weaver **tapestry-maker

Were with us eke, cloth'd in one livery,

Of a solemn and great fraternity.

Full fresh and new their gear y-picked* was. *spruce

Their knives were y-chaped* not with brass, *mounted

But all with silver wrought full clean and well,

Their girdles and their pouches *every deal*. *in every part*

Well seemed each of them a fair burgess,

To sitten in a guild-hall, on the dais. <32>

Evereach, for the wisdom that he can*, *knew

Was shapely* for to be an alderman. *fitted

For chattels hadde they enough and rent,

And eke their wives would it well assent:

And elles certain they had been to blame.

It is full fair to be y-clep'd madame,

And for to go to vigils all before,

And have a mantle royally y-bore.<33>

A COOK they hadde with them for the nones*, *occasion

To boil the chickens and the marrow bones,

And powder merchant tart and galingale.

Well could he know a draught of London ale.

He could roast, and stew, and broil, and fry,

Make mortrewes, and well bake a pie.

But great harm was it, as it thoughte me,

That, on his shin a mormal* hadde he. *ulcer

For blanc manger, that made he with the best <34>

A SHIPMAN was there, *wonned far by West*: *who dwelt far

For ought I wot, be was of Dartemouth. to the West*

He rode upon a rouncy*, as he couth, *hack

All in a gown of falding* to the knee. *coarse cloth

A dagger hanging by a lace had he

About his neck under his arm adown;

The hot summer had made his hue all brown;

And certainly he was a good fellaw.

Full many a draught of wine he had y-draw

From Bourdeaux-ward, while that the chapmen sleep;

Of nice conscience took he no keep.

If that he fought, and had the higher hand,

*By water he sent them home to every land.* *he drowned his

But of his craft to reckon well his tides, prisoners*

His streames and his strandes him besides,

His herberow*, his moon, and lodemanage**, *harbourage

There was none such, from Hull unto Carthage **pilotage<35>

Hardy he was, and wise, I undertake:

With many a tempest had his beard been shake.

He knew well all the havens, as they were,

From Scotland to the Cape of Finisterre,

And every creek in Bretagne and in Spain:

His barge y-cleped was the Magdelain.

With us there was a DOCTOR OF PHYSIC;

In all this worlde was there none him like

To speak of physic, and of surgery:

For he was grounded in astronomy.

He kept his patient a full great deal

In houres by his magic natural.

Well could he fortune* the ascendent *make fortunate

Of his images for his patient,.

He knew the cause of every malady,

Were it of cold, or hot, or moist, or dry,

And where engender'd, and of what humour.

He was a very perfect practisour

The cause y-know,* and of his harm the root, *known

Anon he gave to the sick man his boot* *remedy

Full ready had he his apothecaries,

To send his drugges and his lectuaries

For each of them made other for to win

Their friendship was not newe to begin

Well knew he the old Esculapius,

And Dioscorides, and eke Rufus;

Old Hippocras, Hali, and Gallien;

Serapion, Rasis, and Avicen;

Averrois, Damascene, and Constantin;

Bernard, and Gatisden, and Gilbertin. <36>

Of his diet measurable was he,

For it was of no superfluity,

But of great nourishing, and digestible.

His study was but little on the Bible.

In sanguine* and in perse** he clad was all *red **blue

Lined with taffeta, and with sendall*. *fine silk

And yet *he was but easy of dispense*: *he spent very little*

He kept *that he won in the pestilence*. *the money he made

For gold in physic is a cordial; during the plague*

Therefore he loved gold in special.

A good WIFE was there OF beside BATH,

But she was somedeal deaf, and that was scath*. *damage; pity

Of cloth-making she hadde such an haunt*, *skill

She passed them of Ypres, and of Gaunt. <37>

In all the parish wife was there none,

That to the off'ring* before her should gon, *the offering at mass

And if there did, certain so wroth was she,

That she was out of alle charity

Her coverchiefs* were full fine of ground *head-dresses

I durste swear, they weighede ten pound <38>

That on the Sunday were upon her head.

Her hosen weren of fine scarlet red,

Full strait y-tied, and shoes full moist* and new *fresh <39>

Bold was her face, and fair and red of hue.

She was a worthy woman all her live,

Husbands at the church door had she had five,

Withouten other company in youth;

But thereof needeth not to speak as nouth*. *now

And thrice had she been at Jerusalem;

She hadde passed many a strange stream

At Rome she had been, and at Bologne,

In Galice at Saint James, <40> and at Cologne;

She coude* much of wand'rng by the Way. *knew

Gat-toothed* was she, soothly for to say. *Buck-toothed<41>

Upon an ambler easily she sat,

Y-wimpled well, and on her head an hat

As broad as is a buckler or a targe.

A foot-mantle about her hippes large,

And on her feet a pair of spurres sharp.

In fellowship well could she laugh and carp* *jest, talk

Of remedies of love she knew perchance

For of that art she coud* the olde dance. *knew

A good man there was of religion,

That was a poore PARSON of a town:

But rich he was of holy thought and werk*. *work

He was also a learned man, a clerk,

That Christe's gospel truly woulde preach.

His parishens* devoutly would he teach. *parishioners

Benign he was, and wonder diligent,

And in adversity full patient:

And such he was y-proved *often sithes*. *oftentimes*

Full loth were him to curse for his tithes,

But rather would he given out of doubt,

Unto his poore parishens about,

Of his off'ring, and eke of his substance.

*He could in little thing have suffisance*. *he was satisfied with

Wide was his parish, and houses far asunder, very little*

But he ne left not, for no rain nor thunder,

In sickness and in mischief to visit

The farthest in his parish, *much and lit*, *great and small*

Upon his feet, and in his hand a staff.

This noble ensample to his sheep he gaf*, *gave

That first he wrought, and afterward he taught.

Out of the gospel he the wordes caught,

And this figure he added yet thereto,

That if gold ruste, what should iron do?

For if a priest be foul, on whom we trust,

No wonder is a lewed* man to rust: *unlearned

And shame it is, if that a priest take keep,

To see a shitten shepherd and clean sheep:

Well ought a priest ensample for to give,

By his own cleanness, how his sheep should live.

He sette not his benefice to hire,

And left his sheep eucumber'd in the mire,

And ran unto London, unto Saint Paul's,

To seeke him a chantery<42> for souls,

Or with a brotherhood to be withold:* *detained

But dwelt at home, and kepte well his fold,

So that the wolf ne made it not miscarry.

He was a shepherd, and no mercenary.

And though he holy were, and virtuous,

He was to sinful men not dispitous* *severe

Nor of his speeche dangerous nor dign* *disdainful

But in his teaching discreet and benign.

To drawen folk to heaven, with fairness,

By good ensample, was his business:

*But it were* any person obstinate, *but if it were*

What so he were of high or low estate,

Him would he snibbe* sharply for the nones**. *reprove **nonce,occasion

A better priest I trow that nowhere none is.

He waited after no pomp nor reverence,

Nor maked him a *spiced conscience*, *artificial conscience*

But Christe's lore, and his apostles' twelve,

He taught, and first he follow'd it himselve.

With him there was a PLOUGHMAN, was his brother,

That had y-laid of dung full many a fother*. *ton

A true swinker* and a good was he, *hard worker

Living in peace and perfect charity.

God loved he beste with all his heart

At alle times, were it gain or smart*, *pain, loss

And then his neighebour right as himselve.

He woulde thresh, and thereto dike*, and delve, *dig ditches

For Christe's sake, for every poore wight,

Withouten hire, if it lay in his might.

His tithes payed he full fair and well,

Both of his *proper swink*, and his chattel** *his own labour* **goods

In a tabard* he rode upon a mare. *sleeveless jerkin

There was also a Reeve, and a Millere,

A Sompnour, and a Pardoner also,

A Manciple, and myself, there were no mo'.

The MILLER was a stout carle for the nones,

Full big he was of brawn, and eke of bones;

That proved well, for *ov'r all where* he came, *wheresoever*

At wrestling he would bear away the ram.<43>

He was short-shouldered, broad, a thicke gnarr*, *stump of wood

There was no door, that he n'old* heave off bar, *could not

Or break it at a running with his head.

His beard as any sow or fox was red,

And thereto broad, as though it were a spade.

Upon the cop* right of his nose he had *head <44>

A wart, and thereon stood a tuft of hairs

Red as the bristles of a sowe's ears.

His nose-thirles* blacke were and wide. *nostrils <45>

A sword and buckler bare he by his side.

His mouth as wide was as a furnace.

He was a jangler, and a goliardais*, *buffoon <46>

And that was most of sin and harlotries.

Well could he steale corn, and tolle thrice

And yet he had a thumb of gold, pardie.<47>

A white coat and a blue hood weared he

A baggepipe well could he blow and soun',

And therewithal he brought us out of town.

A gentle MANCIPLE <48> was there of a temple,

Of which achatours* mighte take ensample *buyers

For to be wise in buying of vitaille*. *victuals

For whether that he paid, or took *by taile*, *on credit

Algate* he waited so in his achate**, *always **purchase

That he was aye before in good estate.

Now is not that of God a full fair grace

That such a lewed* mannes wit shall pace** *unlearned **surpass

The wisdom of an heap of learned men?

Of masters had he more than thries ten,

That were of law expert and curious:

Of which there was a dozen in that house,

Worthy to be stewards of rent and land

Of any lord that is in Engleland,

To make him live by his proper good,

In honour debtless, *but if he were wood*, *unless he were mad*

Or live as scarcely as him list desire;

And able for to helpen all a shire

In any case that mighte fall or hap;

And yet this Manciple *set their aller cap* *outwitted them all*

The REEVE <49> 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 <50>

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,<51> would he cry.

He was a gentle harlot* and a kind; *a low fellow<52>

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<53>.

In danger had he at his owen guise

The younge girles of the diocese, <54>

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 <55>

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*<56>

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 <57>

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 <58> **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.<59>

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<60>:

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 <61>

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<62>:

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 <1>

WHILOM*, as olde stories tellen us, *formerly

There was a duke that highte* Theseus. *was called <2>

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,<3>

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, <4> *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<5>;

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 <6>

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 <7>

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<8> 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 <9>

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<10>

(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<11>, 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 <12>,

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<13>, *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<14>

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<15>

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 <16>

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 <17>

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,<18>

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 <19>

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.<20>

And shortly turned was all upside down,

Both habit and eke dispositioun,

Of him, this woful lover Dan* Arcite. *Lord <21>

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 <22>

A hat he wore upon his haires bright.

Arrayed was this god (as he took keep*) *notice

As he was when that Argus<23> 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 <24>

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 <25>, 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 <26>

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 <27>

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*<28>

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**, <29> *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 <30>

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. <31>

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 <32>

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 <33>

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 <34>

That be so hardy for to fighte here

Withoute judge or other officer,

As though it were in listes royally. <35>

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 <36>

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.<37>

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 <38>

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 <39>*

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 <40>

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,<41>

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.* <42> *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 <43>

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 <44> 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<45>, and eke the pale dread;

The smiler with the knife under the cloak,

The shepen* burning with the blacke smoke *stable <46>

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 <47>

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, <48> *burnt

The hunter strangled with the wilde bears:

The sow freting* the child right in the cradle; *devouring <49>

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<50>,

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. <51>

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,<52>

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 <53> 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 <54> 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 <55>

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 <56> **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<57>

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 <58>

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 <59>

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<60>, 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.<61>

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 <62> 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!<41>

For thilke love thou haddest to Adon <63>

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 <64> 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 <65>

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 <66>

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 <67>, 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 <68> 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 <69>

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."

The prayer stint* of Arcita the strong, *ended

The ringes on the temple door that hong,

And eke the doores, clattered full fast,

Of which Arcita somewhat was aghast.

The fires burn'd upon the altar bright,

That it gan all the temple for to light;

A sweete smell anon the ground up gaf*, *gave

And Arcita anon his hand up haf*, *lifted

And more incense into the fire he cast,

With other rites more and at the last

The statue of Mars began his hauberk ring;

And with that sound he heard a murmuring

Full low and dim, that saide thus, "Victory."

For which he gave to Mars honour and glory.

And thus with joy, and hope well to fare,

Arcite anon unto his inn doth fare.

As fain* as fowl is of the brighte sun. *glad

And right anon such strife there is begun

For thilke* granting, in the heav'n above, *that

Betwixte Venus the goddess of love,

And Mars the sterne god armipotent,

That Jupiter was busy it to stent*: *stop

Till that the pale Saturnus the cold,<70>

That knew so many of adventures old,

Found in his old experience such an art,

That he full soon hath pleased every part.

As sooth is said, eld* hath great advantage, *age

In eld is bothe wisdom and usage*: *experience

Men may the old out-run, but not out-rede*. *outwit

Saturn anon, to stint the strife and drede,

Albeit that it is against his kind,* *nature

Of all this strife gan a remedy find.

"My deare daughter Venus," quoth Saturn,

"My course*, that hath so wide for to turn, *orbit <71>

Hath more power than wot any man.

Mine is the drowning in the sea so wan;

Mine is the prison in the darke cote*, *cell

Mine the strangling and hanging by the throat,

The murmur, and the churlish rebelling,

The groyning*, and the privy poisoning. *discontent

I do vengeance and plein* correction, *full

I dwell in the sign of the lion.

Mine is the ruin of the highe halls,

The falling of the towers and the walls

Upon the miner or the carpenter:

I slew Samson in shaking the pillar:

Mine also be the maladies cold,

The darke treasons, and the castes* old: *plots

My looking is the father of pestilence.

Now weep no more, I shall do diligence

That Palamon, that is thine owen knight,

Shall have his lady, as thou hast him hight*. *promised

Though Mars shall help his knight, yet natheless

Betwixte you there must sometime be peace:

All be ye not of one complexion,

That each day causeth such division,

I am thine ayel*, ready at thy will; *grandfather <72>

Weep now no more, I shall thy lust* fulfil." *pleasure

Now will I stenten* of the gods above, *cease speaking

Of Mars, and of Venus, goddess of love,

And telle you as plainly as I can

The great effect, for which that I began.

Great was the feast in Athens thilke* day; *that

And eke the lusty season of that May

Made every wight to be in such pleasance,

That all that Monday jousten they and dance,

And spenden it in Venus' high service.

But by the cause that they shoulde rise

Early a-morrow for to see that fight,

Unto their reste wente they at night.

And on the morrow, when the day gan spring,

Of horse and harness* noise and clattering *armour

There was in the hostelries all about:

And to the palace rode there many a rout* *train, retinue

Of lordes, upon steedes and palfreys.

There mayst thou see devising* of harness *decoration

So uncouth* and so rich, and wrought so weel *unkown, rare

Of goldsmithry, of brouding*, and of steel; *embroidery

The shieldes bright, the testers*, and trappures** *helmets<73>

Gold-hewen helmets, hauberks, coat-armures; **trappings

Lordes in parements* on their coursers, *ornamental garb <74>;

Knightes of retinue, and eke squiers,

Nailing the spears, and helmes buckeling,

Gniding* of shieldes, with lainers** lacing; *polishing <75>

There as need is, they were nothing idle: **lanyards

The foamy steeds upon the golden bridle

Gnawing, and fast the armourers also

With file and hammer pricking to and fro;

Yeomen on foot, and knaves* many one *servants

With shorte staves, thick* as they may gon**; *close **walk

Pipes, trumpets, nakeres*, and clariouns, *drums <76>

That in the battle blowe bloody souns;

The palace full of people up and down,

There three, there ten, holding their questioun*, *conversation

Divining* of these Theban knightes two. *conjecturing

Some saiden thus, some said it shall he so;

Some helden with him with the blacke beard,

Some with the bald, some with the thick-hair'd;

Some said he looked grim, and woulde fight:

He had a sparth* of twenty pound of weight. *double-headed axe

Thus was the halle full of divining* *conjecturing

Long after that the sunne gan up spring.

The great Theseus that of his sleep is waked

With minstrelsy, and noise that was maked,

Held yet the chamber of his palace rich,

Till that the Theban knightes both y-lich* *alike

Honoured were, and to the palace fet*. *fetched

Duke Theseus is at a window set,

Array'd right as he were a god in throne:

The people presseth thitherward full soon

Him for to see, and do him reverence,

And eke to hearken his hest* and his sentence**. *command **speech

An herald on a scaffold made an O, <77>

Till the noise of the people was y-do*: *done

And when he saw the people of noise all still,

Thus shewed he the mighty Duke's will.

"The lord hath of his high discretion

Considered that it were destruction

To gentle blood, to fighten in the guise

Of mortal battle now in this emprise:

Wherefore to shape* that they shall not die, *arrange, contrive

He will his firste purpose modify.

No man therefore, on pain of loss of life,

No manner* shot, nor poleaxe, nor short knife *kind of

Into the lists shall send, or thither bring.

Nor short sword for to stick with point biting

No man shall draw, nor bear it by his side.

And no man shall unto his fellow ride

But one course, with a sharp y-grounden spear:

*Foin if him list on foot, himself to wear. *He who wishes can

And he that is at mischief shall be take*, fence on foot to defend

And not slain, but be brought unto the stake, himself, and he that

That shall be ordained on either side; is in peril shall be taken*

Thither he shall by force, and there abide.

And if *so fall* the chiefetain be take *should happen*

On either side, or elles slay his make*, *equal, match

No longer then the tourneying shall last.

God speede you; go forth and lay on fast.

With long sword and with mace fight your fill.

Go now your way; this is the lordes will.

The voice of the people touched the heaven,

So loude cried they with merry steven*: *sound

God save such a lord that is so good,

He willeth no destruction of blood.

Up go the trumpets and the melody,

And to the listes rode the company

*By ordinance*, throughout the city large, *in orderly array*

Hanged with cloth of gold, and not with sarge*. *serge <78>

Full like a lord this noble Duke gan ride,

And these two Thebans upon either side:

And after rode the queen and Emily,

And after them another company

Of one and other, after their degree.

And thus they passed thorough that city

And to the listes came they by time:

It was not of the day yet fully prime*. *between 6 & 9 a.m.

When set was Theseus full rich and high,

Hippolyta the queen and Emily,

And other ladies in their degrees about,

Unto the seates presseth all the rout.

And westward, through the gates under Mart,

Arcite, and eke the hundred of his part,

With banner red, is enter'd right anon;

And in the selve* moment Palamon *self-same

Is, under Venus, eastward in the place,

With banner white, and hardy cheer* and face *expression

In all the world, to seeken up and down

So even* without variatioun *equal

There were such companies never tway.

For there was none so wise that coulde say

That any had of other avantage

Of worthiness, nor of estate, nor age,

So even were they chosen for to guess.

And *in two ranges faire they them dress*. *they arranged themselves

When that their names read were every one, in two rows*

That in their number guile* were there none, *fraud

Then were the gates shut, and cried was loud;

"Do now your devoir, younge knights proud

The heralds left their pricking* up and down *spurring their horses

Now ring the trumpet loud and clarioun.

There is no more to say, but east and west

In go the speares sadly* in the rest; *steadily

In go the sharpe spurs into the side.

There see me who can joust, and who can ride.

There shiver shaftes upon shieldes thick;

He feeleth through the hearte-spoon<79> the prick.

Up spring the speares twenty foot on height;

Out go the swordes as the silver bright.

The helmes they to-hewen, and to-shred*; *strike in pieces <80>

Out burst the blood, with sterne streames red.

With mighty maces the bones they to-brest*. *burst

He <81> through the thickest of the throng gan threst*. *thrust

There stumble steedes strong, and down go all.

He rolleth under foot as doth a ball.

He foineth* on his foe with a trunchoun, *forces himself

And he him hurtleth with his horse adown.

He through the body hurt is, and *sith take*, *afterwards captured*

Maugre his head, and brought unto the stake,

As forword* was, right there he must abide. *covenant

Another led is on that other side.

And sometime doth* them Theseus to rest, *caused

Them to refresh, and drinken if them lest*. *pleased

Full oft a day have thilke Thebans two *these

Together met and wrought each other woe:

Unhorsed hath each other of them tway* *twice

There is no tiger in the vale of Galaphay, <82>

When that her whelp is stole, when it is lite* *little

So cruel on the hunter, as Arcite

For jealous heart upon this Palamon:

Nor in Belmarie <83> there is no fell lion,

That hunted is, or for his hunger wood* *mad

Or for his prey desireth so the blood,

As Palamon to slay his foe Arcite.

The jealous strokes upon their helmets bite;

Out runneth blood on both their sides red,

Sometime an end there is of every deed

For ere the sun unto the reste went,

The stronge king Emetrius gan hent* *sieze, assail

This Palamon, as he fought with Arcite,

And made his sword deep in his flesh to bite,

And by the force of twenty is he take,

Unyielding, and is drawn unto the stake.

And in the rescue of this Palamon

The stronge king Licurgus is borne down:

And king Emetrius, for all his strength

Is borne out of his saddle a sword's length,

So hit him Palamon ere he were take:

But all for nought; he was brought to the stake:

His hardy hearte might him helpe naught,

He must abide when that he was caught,

By force, and eke by composition*. *the bargain

Who sorroweth now but woful Palamon

That must no more go again to fight?

And when that Theseus had seen that sight

Unto the folk that foughte thus each one,

He cried, Ho! no more, for it is done!

I will be true judge, and not party.

Arcite of Thebes shall have Emily,

That by his fortune hath her fairly won."

Anon there is a noise of people gone,

For joy of this, so loud and high withal,

It seemed that the listes shoulde fall.

What can now faire Venus do above?

What saith she now? what doth this queen of love?

But weepeth so, for wanting of her will,

Till that her teares in the listes fill* *fall

She said: "I am ashamed doubteless."

Saturnus saide: "Daughter, hold thy peace.

Mars hath his will, his knight hath all his boon,

And by mine head thou shalt be eased soon."

The trumpeters with the loud minstrelsy,

The heralds, that full loude yell and cry,

Be in their joy for weal of Dan* Arcite. *Lord

But hearken me, and stinte noise a lite,

What a miracle there befell anon

This fierce Arcite hath off his helm y-done,

And on a courser for to shew his face

He *pricketh endelong* the large place, *rides from end to end*

Looking upward upon this Emily;

And she again him cast a friendly eye

(For women, as to speaken *in commune*, *generally*

They follow all the favour of fortune),

And was all his in cheer*, as his in heart. *countenance

Out of the ground a fire infernal start,

From Pluto sent, at request of Saturn

For which his horse for fear began to turn,

And leap aside, and founder* as he leap *stumble

And ere that Arcite may take any keep*, *care

He pight* him on the pummel** of his head. *pitched **top

That in the place he lay as he were dead.

His breast to-bursten with his saddle-bow.

As black he lay as any coal or crow,

So was the blood y-run into his face.

Anon he was y-borne out of the place

With hearte sore, to Theseus' palace.

Then was he carven* out of his harness. *cut

And in a bed y-brought full fair and blive* *quickly

For he was yet in mem'ry and alive,

And always crying after Emily.

Duke Theseus, with all his company,

Is come home to Athens his city,

With alle bliss and great solemnity.

Albeit that this aventure was fall*, *befallen

He woulde not discomforte* them all *discourage

Then said eke, that Arcite should not die,

He should be healed of his malady.

And of another thing they were as fain*. *glad

That of them alle was there no one slain,

All* were they sorely hurt, and namely** one, *although **especially

That with a spear was thirled* his breast-bone. *pierced

To other woundes, and to broken arms,

Some hadden salves, and some hadden charms:

And pharmacies of herbs, and eke save* *sage, Salvia officinalis

They dranken, for they would their lives have.

For which this noble Duke, as he well can,

Comforteth and honoureth every man,

And made revel all the longe night,

Unto the strange lordes, as was right.

Nor there was holden no discomforting,

But as at jousts or at a tourneying;

For soothly there was no discomfiture,

For falling is not but an aventure*. *chance, accident

Nor to be led by force unto a stake

Unyielding, and with twenty knights y-take

One person all alone, withouten mo',

And harried* forth by armes, foot, and toe, *dragged, hurried

And eke his steede driven forth with staves,

With footmen, bothe yeomen and eke knaves*, *servants

It was *aretted him no villainy:* *counted no disgrace to him*

There may no man *clepen it cowardy*. *call it cowardice*

For which anon Duke Theseus *let cry*, — *caused to be proclaimed*

To stenten* alle rancour and envy, — *stop

The gree* as well on one side as the other, *prize, merit

And either side alike as other's brother:

And gave them giftes after their degree,

And held a feaste fully dayes three:

And conveyed the kinges worthily

Out of his town a journee* largely *day's journey

And home went every man the righte way,

There was no more but "Farewell, Have good day."

Of this bataille I will no more indite

But speak of Palamon and of Arcite.

Swelleth the breast of Arcite and the sore

Increaseth at his hearte more and more.

The clotted blood, for any leache-craft* *surgical skill

Corrupteth and is *in his bouk y-laft* *left in his body*

That neither *veine blood nor ventousing*, *blood-letting or cupping*

Nor drink of herbes may be his helping.

The virtue expulsive or animal,

From thilke virtue called natural,

Nor may the venom voide, nor expel

The pipes of his lungs began to swell

And every lacert* in his breast adown *sinew, muscle

Is shent* with venom and corruption. *destroyed

Him gaineth* neither, for to get his life, *availeth

Vomit upward, nor downward laxative;

All is to-bursten thilke region;

Nature hath now no domination.

And certainly where nature will not wirch,* *work

Farewell physic: go bear the man to chirch.* *church

This all and some is, Arcite must die.

For which he sendeth after Emily,

And Palamon, that was his cousin dear,

Then said he thus, as ye shall after hear.

"Nought may the woful spirit in mine heart

Declare one point of all my sorrows' smart

To you, my lady, that I love the most:

But I bequeath the service of my ghost

To you aboven every creature,

Since that my life ne may no longer dure.

Alas the woe! alas, the paines strong

That I for you have suffered and so long!

Alas the death, alas, mine Emily!

Alas departing* of our company! *the severance

Alas, mine hearte's queen! alas, my wife!

Mine hearte's lady, ender of my life!

What is this world? what aske men to have?

Now with his love, now in his colde grave

Al one, withouten any company.

Farewell, my sweet, farewell, mine Emily,

And softly take me in your armes tway,

For love of God, and hearken what I say.

I have here with my cousin Palamon

Had strife and rancour many a day agone,

For love of you, and for my jealousy.

And Jupiter so *wis my soule gie*, *surely guides my soul*

To speaken of a servant properly,

With alle circumstances truely,

That is to say, truth, honour, and knighthead,

Wisdom, humbless*, estate, and high kindred, *humility

Freedom, and all that longeth to that art,

So Jupiter have of my soul part,

As in this world right now I know not one,

So worthy to be lov'd as Palamon,

That serveth you, and will do all his life.

And if that you shall ever be a wife,

Forget not Palamon, the gentle man."

And with that word his speech to fail began.

For from his feet up to his breast was come

The cold of death, that had him overnome*. *overcome

And yet moreover in his armes two

The vital strength is lost, and all ago*. *gone

Only the intellect, withoute more,

That dwelled in his hearte sick and sore,

Gan faile, when the hearte felte death;

Dusked* his eyen two, and fail'd his breath. *grew dim

But on his lady yet he cast his eye;

His laste word was; "Mercy, Emily!"

His spirit changed house, and wente there,

As I came never I cannot telle where.<84>

Therefore I stent*, I am no divinister**; *refrain **diviner

Of soules find I nought in this register.

Ne me list not th' opinions to tell

Of them, though that they writen where they dwell;

Arcite is cold, there Mars his soule gie.* *guide

Now will I speake forth of Emily.

Shriek'd Emily, and howled Palamon,

And Theseus his sister took anon

Swooning, and bare her from the corpse away.

What helpeth it to tarry forth the day,

To telle how she wept both eve and morrow?

For in such cases women have such sorrow,

When that their husbands be from them y-go*, *gone

That for the more part they sorrow so,

Or elles fall into such malady,

That at the laste certainly they die.

Infinite be the sorrows and the tears

Of olde folk, and folk of tender years,

In all the town, for death of this Theban:

For him there weepeth bothe child and man.

So great a weeping was there none certain,

When Hector was y-brought, all fresh y-slain,

To Troy: alas! the pity that was there,

Scratching of cheeks, and rending eke of hair.

"Why wouldest thou be dead?" these women cry,

"And haddest gold enough, and Emily."

No manner man might gladden Theseus,

Saving his olde father Egeus,

That knew this worlde's transmutatioun,

As he had seen it changen up and down,

Joy after woe, and woe after gladness;

And shewed him example and likeness.

"Right as there died never man," quoth he,

"That he ne liv'd in earth in some degree*, *rank, condition

Right so there lived never man," he said,

"In all this world, that sometime be not died.

This world is but a throughfare full of woe,

And we be pilgrims, passing to and fro:

Death is an end of every worldly sore."

And over all this said he yet much more

To this effect, full wisely to exhort

The people, that they should them recomfort.

Duke Theseus, with all his busy cure*, *care

*Casteth about*, where that the sepulture *deliberates*

Of good Arcite may best y-maked be,

And eke most honourable in his degree.

And at the last he took conclusion,

That there as first Arcite and Palamon

Hadde for love the battle them between,

That in that selve* grove, sweet and green, *self-same

There as he had his amorous desires,

His complaint, and for love his hote fires,

He woulde make a fire*, in which th' office *funeral pyre

Of funeral he might all accomplice;

And *let anon command* to hack and hew *immediately gave orders*

The oakes old, and lay them *on a rew* *in a row*

In culpons*, well arrayed for to brenne**. *logs **burn

His officers with swifte feet they renne* *run

And ride anon at his commandement.

And after this, Duke Theseus hath sent

After a bier, and it all oversprad

With cloth of gold, the richest that he had;

And of the same suit he clad Arcite.

Upon his handes were his gloves white,

Eke on his head a crown of laurel green,

And in his hand a sword full bright and keen.

He laid him *bare the visage* on the bier, *with face uncovered*

Therewith he wept, that pity was to hear.

And, for the people shoulde see him all,

When it was day he brought them to the hall,

That roareth of the crying and the soun'.

Then came this woful Theban, Palamon,

With sluttery beard, and ruggy ashy hairs,<85>

In clothes black, y-dropped all with tears,

And (passing over weeping Emily)

The ruefullest of all the company.

And *inasmuch as* the service should be *in order that*

The more noble and rich in its degree,

Duke Theseus let forth three steedes bring,

That trapped were in steel all glittering.

And covered with the arms of Dan Arcite.

Upon these steedes, that were great and white,

There satte folk, of whom one bare his shield,

Another his spear in his handes held;

The thirde bare with him his bow Turkeis*, *Turkish.

Of brent* gold was the case** and the harness: *burnished **quiver

And ride forth *a pace* with sorrowful cheer** *at a foot pace*

Toward the grove, as ye shall after hear. **expression

The noblest of the Greekes that there were

Upon their shoulders carried the bier,

With slacke pace, and eyen red and wet,

Throughout the city, by the master* street, *main <86>

That spread was all with black, and wondrous high

Right of the same is all the street y-wrie.* *covered <87>

Upon the right hand went old Egeus,

And on the other side Duke Theseus,

With vessels in their hand of gold full fine,

All full of honey, milk, and blood, and wine;

Eke Palamon, with a great company;

And after that came woful Emily,

With fire in hand, as was that time the guise*, *custom

To do th' office of funeral service.

High labour, and full great appareling* *preparation

Was at the service, and the pyre-making,

That with its greene top the heaven raught*, *reached

And twenty fathom broad its armes straught*: *stretched

This is to say, the boughes were so broad.

Of straw first there was laid many a load.

But how the pyre was maked up on height,

And eke the names how the trees hight*, *were called

As oak, fir, birch, asp*, alder, holm, poplere, *aspen

Willow, elm, plane, ash, box, chestnut, lind*, laurere, *linden, lime

Maple, thorn, beech, hazel, yew, whipul tree,

How they were fell'd, shall not be told for me;

Nor how the goddes* rannen up and down *the forest deities

Disinherited of their habitatioun,

In which they wonned* had in rest and peace, *dwelt

Nymphes, Faunes, and Hamadryades;

Nor how the beastes and the birdes all

Fledden for feare, when the wood gan fall;

Nor how the ground aghast* was of the light, *terrified

That was not wont to see the sunne bright;

Nor how the fire was couched* first with stre**, *laid **straw

And then with dry stickes cloven in three,

And then with greene wood and spicery*, *spices

And then with cloth of gold and with pierrie*, *precious stones

And garlands hanging with full many a flower,

The myrrh, the incense with so sweet odour;

Nor how Arcita lay among all this,

Nor what richess about his body is;

Nor how that Emily, as was the guise*, *custom

*Put in the fire* of funeral service<88>; *appplied the torch*

Nor how she swooned when she made the fire,

Nor what she spake, nor what was her desire;

Nor what jewels men in the fire then cast

When that the fire was great and burned fast;

Nor how some cast their shield, and some their spear,

And of their vestiments, which that they wear,

And cuppes full of wine, and milk, and blood,

Into the fire, that burnt as it were wood*; *mad

Nor how the Greekes with a huge rout* *procession

Three times riden all the fire about <89>

Upon the left hand, with a loud shouting,

And thries with their speares clattering;

And thries how the ladies gan to cry;

Nor how that led was homeward Emily;

Nor how Arcite is burnt to ashes cold;

Nor how the lyke-wake* was y-hold *wake <90>

All thilke* night, nor how the Greekes play *that

The wake-plays*, ne keep** I not to say: *funeral games **care

Who wrestled best naked, with oil anoint,

Nor who that bare him best *in no disjoint*. *in any contest*

I will not tell eke how they all are gone

Home to Athenes when the play is done;

But shortly to the point now will I wend*, *come

And maken of my longe tale an end.

By process and by length of certain years

All stinted* is the mourning and the tears *ended

Of Greekes, by one general assent.

Then seemed me there was a parlement

At Athens, upon certain points and cas*: *cases

Amonge the which points y-spoken was

To have with certain countries alliance,

And have of Thebans full obeisance.

For which this noble Theseus anon

Let* send after the gentle Palamon, *caused

Unwist* of him what was the cause and why: *unknown

But in his blacke clothes sorrowfully

He came at his commandment *on hie*; *in haste*

Then sente Theseus for Emily.

When they were set*, and hush'd was all the place *seated

And Theseus abided* had a space *waited

Ere any word came from his wise breast

*His eyen set he there as was his lest*, *he cast his eyes

And with a sad visage he sighed still, wherever he pleased*

And after that right thus he said his will.

"The firste mover of the cause above

When he first made the faire chain of love,

Great was th' effect, and high was his intent;

Well wist he why, and what thereof he meant:

For with that faire chain of love he bond* *bound

The fire, the air, the water, and the lond

In certain bondes, that they may not flee:<91>

That same prince and mover eke," quoth he,

"Hath stablish'd, in this wretched world adown,

Certain of dayes and duration

To all that are engender'd in this place,

Over the whiche day they may not pace*, *pass

All may they yet their dayes well abridge.

There needeth no authority to allege

For it is proved by experience;

But that me list declare my sentence*. *opinion

Then may men by this order well discern,

That thilke* mover stable is and etern. *the same

Well may men know, but that it be a fool,

That every part deriveth from its whole.

For nature hath not ta'en its beginning

Of no *partie nor cantle* of a thing, *part or piece*

But of a thing that perfect is and stable,

Descending so, till it be corruptable.

And therefore of His wise purveyance* *providence

He hath so well beset* his ordinance,

That species of things and progressions

Shallen endure by successions,

And not etern, withouten any lie:

This mayst thou understand and see at eye.

Lo th' oak, that hath so long a nourishing

From the time that it 'ginneth first to spring,

And hath so long a life, as ye may see,

Yet at the last y-wasted is the tree.

Consider eke, how that the harde stone

Under our feet, on which we tread and gon*, *walk

Yet wasteth, as it lieth by the way.

The broade river some time waxeth drey*. *dry

The greate townes see we wane and wend*. *go, disappear

Then may ye see that all things have an end.

Of man and woman see we well also, —

That needes in one of the termes two, —

That is to say, in youth or else in age,-

He must be dead, the king as shall a page;

Some in his bed, some in the deepe sea,

Some in the large field, as ye may see:

There helpeth nought, all go that ilke* way: *same

Then may I say that alle thing must die.

What maketh this but Jupiter the king?

The which is prince, and cause of alle thing,

Converting all unto his proper will,

From which it is derived, sooth to tell

And hereagainst no creature alive,

Of no degree, availeth for to strive.

Then is it wisdom, as it thinketh me,

To make a virtue of necessity,

And take it well, that we may not eschew*, *escape

And namely what to us all is due.

And whoso grudgeth* ought, he doth folly, *murmurs at

And rebel is to him that all may gie*. *direct, guide

And certainly a man hath most honour

To dien in his excellence and flower,

When he is sicker* of his goode name. *certain

Then hath he done his friend, nor him*, no shame *himself

And gladder ought his friend be of his death,

When with honour is yielded up his breath,

Than when his name *appalled is for age*; *decayed by old age*

For all forgotten is his vassalage*. *valour, service

Then is it best, as for a worthy fame,

To dien when a man is best of name.

The contrary of all this is wilfulness.

Why grudge we, why have we heaviness,

That good Arcite, of chivalry the flower,

Departed is, with duty and honour,

Out of this foule prison of this life?

Why grudge here his cousin and his wife

Of his welfare, that loved him so well?

Can he them thank? nay, God wot, neverdeal*, — *not a jot

That both his soul and eke themselves offend*, *hurt

And yet they may their lustes* not amend**. *desires **control

What may I conclude of this longe serie*, *string of remarks

But after sorrow I rede* us to be merry, *counsel

And thanke Jupiter for all his grace?

And ere that we departe from this place,

I rede that we make of sorrows two

One perfect joye lasting evermo':

And look now where most sorrow is herein,

There will I first amenden and begin.

"Sister," quoth he, "this is my full assent,

With all th' advice here of my parlement,

That gentle Palamon, your owen knight,

That serveth you with will, and heart, and might,

And ever hath, since first time ye him knew,

That ye shall of your grace upon him rue*, *take pity

And take him for your husband and your lord:

Lend me your hand, for this is our accord.

*Let see* now of your womanly pity. *make display*

He is a kinge's brother's son, pardie*. *by God

And though he were a poore bachelere,

Since he hath served you so many a year,

And had for you so great adversity,

It muste be considered, *'lieveth me*. *believe me*

For gentle mercy *oweth to passen right*." *ought to be rightly

Then said he thus to Palamon the knight; directed*

"I trow there needeth little sermoning

To make you assente to this thing.

Come near, and take your lady by the hand."

Betwixte them was made anon the band,

That hight matrimony or marriage,

By all the counsel of the baronage.

And thus with alle bliss and melody

Hath Palamon y-wedded Emily.

And God, that all this wide world hath wrought,

Send him his love, that hath it dearly bought.

For now is Palamon in all his weal,

Living in bliss, in riches, and in heal*. *health

And Emily him loves so tenderly,

And he her serveth all so gentilly,

That never was there worde them between

Of jealousy, nor of none other teen*. *cause of anger

Thus endeth Palamon and Emily

And God save all this faire company.

Notes to The Knight's Tale.

1. For the plan and principal incidents of the "Knight's Tale," Chaucer was indebted to Boccaccio, who had himself borrowed from some prior poet, chronicler, or romancer. Boccaccio speaks of the story as "very ancient;" and, though that may not be proof of its antiquity, it certainly shows that he took it from an earlier writer. The "Tale" is more or less a paraphrase of Boccaccio's "Theseida;" but in some points the copy has a distinct dramatic superiority over the original. The "Theseida" contained ten thousand lines; Chaucer has condensed it into less than one-fourth of the number. The "Knight's Tale" is supposed to have been at first composed as a separate work; it is undetermined whether Chaucer took it direct from the Italian of Boccaccio, or from a French translation.

2. Highte: was called; from the Anglo-Saxon "hatan", to bid or call; German, "Heissen", "heisst".

3. Feminie: The "Royaume des Femmes" — kingdom of the Amazons. Gower, in the "Confessio Amantis," styles Penthesilea the "Queen of Feminie."

4. Wonnen: Won, conquered; German "gewonnen."

5. Ear: To plough; Latin, "arare." "I have abundant matter for discourse." The first, and half of the second, of Boccaccio's twelve books are disposed of in the few lines foregoing.

6. Waimenting: bewailing; German, "wehklagen"

7. Starf: died; German, "sterben," "starb".

8. The Minotaur: The monster, half-man and half-bull, which yearly devoured a tribute of fourteen Athenian youths and maidens, until it was slain by Theseus.

9. Pillers: pillagers, strippers; French, "pilleurs."

10. The donjon was originally the central tower or "keep" of feudal castles; it was employed to detain prisoners of importance. Hence the modern meaning of the word dungeon.

11. Saturn, in the old astrology, was a most unpropitious star to be born under.

12. To die in the pain was a proverbial expression in the French, used as an alternative to enforce a resolution or a promise. Edward III., according to Froissart, declared that he would either succeed in the war against France or die in the pain — "Ou il mourroit en la peine." It was the fashion in those times to swear oaths of friendship and brotherhood; and hence, though the fashion has long died out, we still speak of "sworn friends."

13. The saying of the old scholar Boethius, in his treatise "De Consolatione Philosophiae", which Chaucer translated, and from which he has freely borrowed in his poetry. The words are "Quis legem det amantibus? Major lex amor est sibi." ("Who can give law to lovers? Love is a law unto himself, and greater")

14. "Perithous" and "Theseus" must, for the metre, be pronounced as words of four and three syllables respectively — the vowels at the end not being diphthongated, but enunciated separately, as if the words were printed Pe-ri-tho-us, The-se-us. The same rule applies in such words as "creature" and "conscience," which are trisyllables.

15. Stound: moment, short space of time; from Anglo-Saxon, "stund;" akin to which is German, "Stunde," an hour.

16. Meinie: servants, or menials, &c., dwelling together in a house; from an Anglo-Saxon word meaning a crowd. Compare German, "Menge," multitude.

17. The pure fetters: the very fetters. The Greeks used "katharos", the Romans "purus," in the same sense.

18. In the medieval courts of Love, to which allusion is probably made forty lines before, in the word "parlement," or "parliament," questions like that here proposed were seriously discussed.

19. Gear: behaviour, fashion, dress; but, by another reading, the word is "gyre," and means fit, trance — from the Latin, "gyro," I turn round.

20. Before his head in his cell fantastic: in front of his head in his cell of fantasy. "The division of the brain into cells, according to the different sensitive faculties," says Mr Wright, "is very ancient, and is found depicted in mediaeval manuscripts." In a manuscript in the Harleian Library, it is stated, "Certum est in prora cerebri esse fantasiam, in medio rationem discretionis, in puppi memoriam" (it is certain that in the front of the brain is imagination, in the middle reason, in the back memory) — a classification not materially differing from that of modern phrenologists.

21. Dan: Lord; Latin, "Dominus;" Spanish, "Don."

22. The "caduceus."

23. Argus was employed by Juno to watch Io with his hundred eyes but he was sent to sleep by the flute of Mercury, who then cut off his head.

24. Next: nearest; German, "naechste".

25. Clary: hippocras, wine made with spices.

26. Warray: make war; French "guerroyer", to molest; hence, perhaps, "to worry."

27. All day meeten men at unset steven: every day men meet at unexpected time. "To set a steven," is to fix a time, make an appointment.

28. Roundelay: song coming round again to the words with which it opened.

29. Now in the crop and now down in the breres: Now in the tree-top, now down in the briars. "Crop and root," top and bottom, is used to express the perfection or totality of anything.

30. Beknow: avow, acknowledge: German, "bekennen."

31. Shapen was my death erst than my shert: My death was decreed before my shirt ws shaped — that is, before any clothes were made for me, before my birth.

32. Regne: Queen; French, "Reine;" Venus is meant. The common reading, however, is "regne," reign or power.

33. Launde: plain. Compare modern English, "lawn," and French, "Landes" — flat, bare marshy tracts in the south of France.

34. Mister: manner, kind; German "muster," sample, model.

35. In listes: in the lists, prepared for such single combats between champion and accuser, &c.

36. Thilke: that, contracted from "the ilke," the same.

37. Mars the Red: referring to the ruddy colour of the planet, to which was doubtless due the transference to it of the name of the God of War. In his "Republic," enumerating the seven planets, Cicero speaks of the propitious and beneficent light of Jupiter: "Tum (fulgor) rutilis horribilisque terris, quem Martium dicitis" — "Then the red glow, horrible to the nations, which you say to be that of Mars." Boccaccio opens the "Theseida" by an invocation to "rubicondo Marte."

38. Last: lace, leash, noose, snare: from Latin, "laceus."

39. "Round was the shape, in manner of compass, Full of degrees, the height of sixty pas" The building was a circle of steps or benches, as in the ancient amphitheatre. Either the building was sixty paces high; or, more probably, there were sixty of the steps or benches.

40. Yellow goldes: The sunflower, turnsol, or girasol, which turns with and seems to watch the sun, as a jealous lover his mistress.

41. Citheron: The Isle of Venus, Cythera, in the Aegean Sea; now called Cerigo: not, as Chaucer's form of the word might imply, Mount Cithaeron, in the south-west of Boetia, which was appropriated to other deities than Venus — to Jupiter, to Bacchus, and the Muses.

42. It need not be said that Chaucer pays slight heed to chronology in this passage, where the deeds of Turnus, the glory of King Solomon, and the fate of Croesus are made memories of the far past in the time of fabulous Theseus, the Minotaur-slayer.

43. Champartie: divided power or possession; an old law-term, signifying the maintenance of a person in a law suit on the condition of receiving part of the property in dispute, if recovered.

44. Citole: a kind of dulcimer.

45. The picke-purse: The plunderers that followed armies, and gave to war a horror all their own.

46. Shepen: stable; Anglo-Saxon, "scypen;" the word "sheppon" still survives in provincial parlance.

47. This line, perhaps, refers to the deed of Jael.

48. The shippes hoppesteres: The meaning is dubious. We may understand "the dancing ships," "the ships that hop" on the waves; "steres" being taken as the feminine adjectival termination: or we may, perhaps, read, with one of the manuscripts, "the ships upon the steres" — that is, even as they are being steered, or on the open sea — a more picturesque notion.

49. Freting: devouring; the Germans use "Fressen" to mean eating by animals, "essen" by men.

50. Julius: i.e. Julius Caesar

51. Puella and Rubeus were two figures in geomancy, representing two constellations-the one signifying Mars retrograde, the other Mars direct.

52. Calistope: or Callisto, daughter of Lycaon, seduced by Jupiter, turned into a bear by Diana, and placed afterwards, with her son, as the Great Bear among the stars.

53. Dane: Daphne, daughter of the river-god Peneus, in Thessaly; she was beloved by Apollo, but to avoid his pursuit, she was, at her own prayer, changed into a laurel-tree.

54. As the goddess of Light, or the goddess who brings to light, Diana — as well as Juno — was invoked by women in childbirth: so Horace, Odes iii. 22, says:—

"Montium custos nemorumque, Virgo,

Quae laborantes utero puellas

Ter vocata audis adimisque leto,

Diva triformis."

("Virgin custodian of hills and groves, three-formed goddess who hears and saves from death young women who call upon her thrice when in childbirth")

55. Every deal: in every part; "deal" corresponds to the German "Theil" a portion.

56. Sikerly: surely; German, "sicher;" Scotch, "sikkar," certain. When Robert Bruce had escaped from England to assume the Scottish crown, he stabbed Comyn before the altar at Dumfries; and, emerging from the church, was asked by his friend Kirkpatrick if he had slain the traitor. "I doubt it," said Bruce. "Doubt," cried Kirkpatrick. "I'll mak sikkar;" and he rushed into the church, and despatched Comyn with repeated thrusts of his dagger.

57. Kemped: combed; the word survives in "unkempt."

58. Alauns: greyhounds, mastiffs; from the Spanish word "Alano," signifying a mastiff.

59. Y-ment: mixed; German, "mengen," to mix.

60. Prime: The time of early prayers, between six and nine in the morning.

61. On the dais: see note 32 to the Prologue.

62. In her hour: in the hour of the day (two hours before daybreak) which after the astrological system that divided the twenty-four among the seven ruling planets, was under the influence of Venus.

63. Adon: Adonis, a beautiful youth beloved of Venus, whose death by the tusk of a boar she deeply mourned.

64. The third hour unequal: In the third planetary hour; Palamon had gone forth in the hour of Venus, two hours before daybreak; the hour of Mercury intervened; the third hour was that of Luna, or Diana. "Unequal" refers to the astrological division of day and night, whatever their duration, into twelve parts, which of necessity varied in length with the season.

65. Smoking: draping; hence the word "smock;" "smokless," in Chaucer, means naked.

66. Cerrial: of the species of oak which Pliny, in his "Natural History," calls "cerrus."

67. Stace of Thebes: Statius, the Roman who embodied in the twelve books of his "Thebaid" the ancient legends connected with the war of the seven against Thebes.

68. Diana was Luna in heaven, Diana on earth, and Hecate in hell; hence the direction of the eyes of her statue to "Pluto's dark region." Her statue was set up where three ways met, so that with a different face she looked down each of the three; from which she was called Trivia. See the quotation from Horace, note 54.

69. Las: net; the invisible toils in which Hephaestus caught Ares and the faithless Aphrodite, and exposed them to the "inextinguishable laughter" of Olympus.

70. Saturnus the cold: Here, as in "Mars the Red" we have the person of the deity endowed with the supposed quality of the planet called after his name.

71. The astrologers ascribed great power to Saturn, and predicted "much debate" under his ascendancy; hence it was "against his kind" to compose the heavenly strife.

72. Ayel: grandfather; French "Aieul".

73. Testers: Helmets; from the French "teste", "tete", head.

74. Parements: ornamental garb, French "parer" to deck.

75. Gniding: Rubbing, polishing; Anglo-Saxon "gnidan", to rub.

76. Nakeres: Drums, used in the cavalry; Boccaccio's word is "nachere".

77. Made an O: Ho! Ho! to command attention; like "oyez", the call for silence in law-courts or before proclamations.

78. Sarge: serge, a coarse woollen cloth

79. Heart-spoon: The concave part of the breast, where the lower ribs join the cartilago ensiformis.

80. To-hewen and to-shred: "to" before a verb implies extraordinary violence in the action denoted.

81. He through the thickest of the throng etc.. "He" in this passage refers impersonally to any of the combatants.

82. Galaphay: Galapha, in Mauritania.

83. Belmarie is supposed to have been a Moorish state in Africa; but "Palmyrie" has been suggested as the correct reading.

84. As I came never I cannot telle where: Where it went I cannot tell you, as I was not there. Tyrwhitt thinks that Chaucer is sneering at Boccacio's pompous account of the passage of Arcite's soul to heaven. Up to this point, the description of the death-scene is taken literally from the "Theseida."

85. With sluttery beard, and ruggy ashy hairs: With neglected beard, and rough hair strewn with ashes. "Flotery" is the general reading; but "sluttery" seems to be more in keeping with the picture of abandonment to grief.

86. Master street: main street; so Froissart speaks of "le souverain carrefour."

87. Y-wrie: covered, hid; Anglo-Saxon, "wrigan," to veil.

88. Emily applied the funeral torch. The "guise" was, among the ancients, for the nearest relative of the deceased to do this, with averted face.

89. It was the custom for soldiers to march thrice around the funeral pile of an emperor or general; "on the left hand" is added, in reference to the belief that the left hand was propitious — the Roman augur turning his face southward, and so placing on his left hand the east, whence good omens came. With the Greeks, however, their augurs facing the north, it was just the contrary. The confusion, frequent in classical writers, is complicated here by the fact that Chaucer's description of the funeral of Arcite is taken from Statius' "Thebaid" — from a Roman's account of a Greek solemnity.

90. Lyke-wake: watching by the remains of the dead; from Anglo-Saxon, "lice," a corpse; German, "Leichnam."

91. Chaucer here borrows from Boethius, who says: "Hanc rerum seriem ligat, Terras ac pelagus regens, Et coelo imperitans, amor." (Love ties these things together: the earth, and the ruling sea, and the imperial heavens)