The Canterbury Tales

Whilom, as olde stories tellen us,
Once on a time, as old tales tell to us,

Ther was a duc that highte Theseus;
There was a duke whose name was Theseus:

Of Atthenes he was lord and governour,
Of Athens he was lord and governor,

And in his tyme swich a conquerour,
And in his time was such a conqueror

That gretter was ther noon under the sonne.
That greater was there not beneath the sun.

Ful many a riche contree hadde he wonne,
Full many a rich country had he won;

What with his wysdom and his chivalrie;
What with his wisdom and his chivalry

He conquered al the regne of Femenye,
He gained the realm of Femininity,

That whilom was ycleped Scithia,
That was of old time known as Scythia.

And weddede the queene Ypolita,
There wedded he the queen, Hippolyta,

And broghte hir hoom with hym in his contree,
And brought her home with him to his country.

With muchel glorie and greet solempnytee,
In glory great and with great pageantry,

And eek hir yonge suster Emelye.
And, too, her younger sister, Emily.

And thus with victorie and with melodye
And thus, in victory and with melody,

Lete I this noble duk to Atthenes ryde,
Let I this noble duke to Athens ride

And al his hoost, in armes hym bisyde.
With all his armed host marching at his side.

And certes, if it nere to long to heere,
And truly, were it not too long to hear,

I wolde have toold yow fully the manere
I would have told you fully how, that year,

How wonnen was the regne of Femenye
Was gained the realm of Femininity

By Theseus, and by his chivalrye,
By Theseus and by his chivalry;

And of the grete bataille for the nones
And all of the great battle that was wrought

Bitwixen Atthenes and Amazones,
Where Amazons and the Athenians fought;

And how asseged was Ypolita
And how was wooed and won Hippolyta,

The faire hardy queene of Scithia,
That fair and hardy queen of Scythia;

And of the feste that was at hir weddynge,
And of the feast was made at their wedding,

And of the tempest at hir hoom-comynge;
And of the tempest at their home-coming;

But al the thyng I moot as now forbere,
But all of that I must for now forbear.

I have, God woot, a large feeld to ere,
I have, God knows, a large field for my share,

And wayke been the oxen in my plough,
And weak the oxen, and the soil is tough.

The remenant of the tale is long ynough.
The remnant of the tale is long enough.

I wol nat letten eek noon of this route,
I will not hinder any, in my turn;

Lat every felawe telle his tale aboute,
Let each man tell his tale, until we learn

And lat se now who shal the soper wynne;-
Which of us all the most deserves to win;

And ther I lefte, I wol ayeyn bigynne.
So where I stopped, again I'll now begin.

This duc of whom I make mencioun,
This duke of whom I speak, of great renown,

Whan he was come almoost unto the toun,
When he had drawn almost unto the town,

In al his wele and in his mooste pride,
In all well-being and in utmost pride,

He was war, as he caste his eye aside,
He grew aware, casting his eyes aside,

Where that ther kneled in the hye weye
That right upon the road, as suppliants do,

A compaignye of ladyes, tweye and tweye,
A company of ladies, two by two,

Ech after oother, clad in clothes blake;
Knelt, all in black, before his cavalcade;

But swich a cry and swich a wo they make,
But such a clamorous cry of woe they made

That in this world nys creature lyvynge
That in the whole world living man had heard

That herde swich another waymentynge!
No such a lamentation, on my word;

And of this cry they nolde nevere stenten,
Nor would they cease lamenting till at last

Til they the reynes of his brydel henten.
They'd clutched his bridle reins and held them fast.

What folk been ye, that at myn hom-comynge
What folk are you that at my home-coming

Perturben so my feste with criynge?
Disturb my triumph with this dolorous thing?

Quod Theseus, hav ye so greet envye
Cried Theseus. Do you so much envy

Of myn honour, that thus compleyne and crye?
My honour that you thus complain and cry?

Or who hath yow mysboden or offended?
Or who has wronged you now, or who offended?

And telleth me if it may been amended,
Come, tell me whether it may be amended;

And why that ye been clothed thus in blak?
And tell me, why are you clothed thus, in black?

The eldeste lady of hem alle spak-
The eldest lady of them answered back,

Whan she hadde swowned with a deedly cheere,
After she'd swooned, with cheek so deathly drear

That it was routhe for to seen and heere-
That it was pitiful to see and hear,

And seyde, Lord, to whom Fortune hath yeven
And said: Lord, to whom Fortune has but given

Victorie, and as a conqueror to lyven,
Victory, and to conquer where you've striven,

Nat greveth us youre glorie and youre honour,
Your glory and your honour grieve not us;

But we biseken mercy and socour.
But we beseech your aid and pity thus.

Have mercy on oure wo and oure distresse,
Have mercy on our woe and our distress.

Som drope of pitee thurgh thy gentillesse
Some drop of pity, of your gentleness,

Upon us wrecched wommen lat thou falle;
Upon us wretched women, oh, let fall!

For certes, lord, ther is noon of us alle
For see, lord, there is no one of us all

That she ne hath been a duchesse or a queene.
That has not been a duchess or a queen;

Now be we caytyves, as it is wel seene-
Now we are captives, as may well be seen:

Thanked be Fortune, and hir false wheel,
Thanks be to Fortune and her treacherous wheel,

That noon estat assureth to be weel.
There's none can rest assured of constant weal.

And certes, lord, to abyden youre presence,
And truly, lord, expecting your return,

Heere in the temple of the goddesse Clemence
In Pity's temple, where the fires yet burn,

We han ben waitynge al this fourtenyght;
We have been waiting through a long fortnight;

Now help us, lord, sith it is in thy myght!
Now help us, lord, since it is in your might.

I wrecche, which that wepe and waille thus,
I, wretched woman, who am weeping thus,

Was whilom wyf to kyng Cappaneus,
Was once the wife of King Capaneus,

That starf at Thebes, cursed be that day!
Who died at Thebes, oh, cursed be the day!

And alle we that been in this array
And all we that you see in this array,

And maken al this lamentacioun,
And make this lamentation to be known,

We losten alle oure housbondes at that toun,
All we have lost our husbands at that town

Whil that the seege theraboute lay.
During the siege that round about it lay.

And yet now the olde Creon, weylaway!
And now the old Creon, ah welaway!

That lord is now of Thebes the Citee,
The lord and governor of Thebes city,

Fulfild of ire and of iniquitee,
Full of his wrath and all iniquity,

He, for despit and for his tirannye,
He, in despite and out of tyranny,

To do the dede bodyes vileynye,
To do the dead a shame and villainy,

Of alle oure lordes, whiche that been slawe,
Of all our husbands, lying among the slain,

He hath alle the bodyes on an heep ydrawe,
Has piled the bodies in a heap, amain,

And wol nat suffren hem, by noon assent,
And will not suffer them, nor give consent,

Neither to been yburyed nor ybrent,
To buried be, or burned, nor will relent,

But maketh houndes ete hem in despit.
But sets his dogs to eat them, out of spite.

And with that word, withouten moore respit,
And on that word, at once, without respite,

They fillen gruf, and criden pitously,
They all fell prone and cried out piteously:

Have on us wrecched wommen som mercy
Have on us wretched women some mercy,

And lat oure sorwe synken in thyn herte.
And let our sorrows sink into your heart!

This gentil duk doun from his courser sterte
This gentle duke down from his horse did start

With herte pitous, whan he herde hem speke;
With heart of pity, when he'd heard them speak.

Hym thoughte that his herte wolde breke,
It seemed to him his heart must surely break,

Whan he saugh hem so pitous and so maat,
Seeing them there so miserable of state,

That whilom weren of so greet estaat.
Who had been proud and happy but so late.

And in his armes he hem alle up hente,
And in his arms he took them tenderly,

And hem conforteth in ful good entente,
Giving them comfort understandingly:

And swoor his ooth, as he was trewe knyght,
And swore his oath, that as he was true knight,

He solde doon so ferforthyl his myght
He would put forth so thoroughly his might

Upon the tiraunt Creon hem to wreke,
Against the tyrant Creon as to wreak

That all the peple of Grece sholde speke
Vengeance so great that all of Greece should speak

How Creon was of Theseus yserved,
And say how Creon was by Theseus served,

As he that hadde his deeth ful wel deserved.
As one that had his death full well deserved.

And right anoon, withouten moore abood,
This sworn and done, he no more there abode;

His baner he desplayeth, and forth rood
His banner he displayed and forth he rode

To Thebesward, and al his hoost biside,
Toward Thebes, and all his host marched on beside;

No neer Atthenes wolde he go ne ride,
Nor nearer Athens would he walk or ride,

Ne take his ese fully half a day,
Nor take his ease for even half a day,

But onward on his wey that nyght he lay-
But onward, and in camp that night he lay;

And sente anon Ypolita the queene,
And thence he sent Hippolyta the queen

And Emelye, hir yonge suster sheene,
And her bright sister Emily, I ween,

Unto the toun of Atthenes to dwelle-
Unto the town of Athens, there to dwell

And forth he rit; ther is namoore to telle.
While he went forth. There is no more to tell.

The rede statue of Mars, with spere and targe,
The image of red Mars, with spear and shield,

So shyneth, in his white baner large,
So shone upon his banner's snow-white field

That alle the feeldes gliteren up and doun,
It made a billowing glitter up and down;

And by his baner gorn is his penoun
And by the banner borne was his pennon,

Of gold ful riche, in which ther was ybete
On which in beaten gold was worked, complete,

The Mynotaur which that he slough in Crete.
The Minotaur, which he had slain in Crete.

Thus rit this duc, thus rit this conquerour,
Thus rode this duke, thus rode this conqueror,

And in his hoost of chivalrie the flour,
And in his host of chivalry the flower,

Til that he cam to Thebes, and alighte
Until he came to Thebes and did alight

Faire in a feeld, ther as he thoughte fighte.
Full in the field where he'd intent to fight.

But shortly for to speken of this thyng,
But to be brief in telling of this thing,

With Creon, which that was of Thebes kyng,
With Creon, who was Thebes' dread lord and king,

He faught, and slough hym manly as a knyght
He fought and slew him, manfully, like knight,

In pleyn bataille, and putte the folk to flyght,
In open war, and put his host to flight;

And by assaut he wan the citee after,
And by assault he took the city then,

And rente adoun bothe wall, and sparre, and rafter.
Levelling wall and rafter with his men;

And to the ladyes he sestored agayn
And to the ladies he restored again

The bones of hir housbondes that weren slayn,
The bones of their poor husbands who were slain,

To doon obsequies as was tho the gyse.
To do for them the last rites of that day.

But it were al to longe for to devyse
But it were far too long a tale to say

The grete clamour and the waymentynge
The clamour of great grief and sorrowing

That the ladyes made at the brennynge
Those ladies raised above the bones burning

Of the bodies, and the grete honour
Upon the pyres, and of the great honour

That Theseus, the noble conquerour,
That Theseus, the noble conqueror,

Dooth to the ladyes, whan they from hym wente;
Paid to the ladies when from him they went;

But shortly for to telle is myn entente.
To make the story short is my intent.

Whan that his worthy duc, this Theseus,
When, then, this worthy duke, this Theseus

Hath Creon slayn, and wonne Thebes thus,
Had slain Creon and won Thebes city thus,

Stille in that feeld he took al nyght his reste
Still on the field he took that night his rest,

And dide with al the contree as hym leste.
And dealt with all the land as he thought best.

To ransake in the taas of bodyes dede,
In searching through the heap of enemy dead,

Hem for to strepe of harneys and of wede,
Stripping them of their gear from heel to head,

The pilours diden bisynesse and cure,
The busy pillagers could pick and choose,

After the bataille and disconfiture;
After the battle, what they best could use;

And so bifel, that in the taas they founde
And so befell that in a heap they found,

Thurgh-girt with many a grevous blody wounde,
Pierced through with many a grievous, bloody wound,

Two yonge knyghtes liggynge by and by,
Two young knights lying together, side by side,

Bothe in oon armes wroght ful richely,
Bearing one crest, wrought richly, of their pride,

Of whiche two Arcita highte that oon,
And of those two Arcita was the one,

And that oother knyght highte Palamon.
The other knight was known as Palamon.

Nat fully quyke, ne fully dede they were,
Not fully quick, nor fully dead they were,

But by here cote-armures, and by hir gere,
But by their coats of arms and by their gear

The heraudes knewe hem best, in special,
The heralds readily could tell, withal,

As they that weren of the blood roial
That they were of the Theban blood royal,

Of Thebes, and of sustren two yborn.
And that they had been of two sisters born.

Out of the taas the pilours han hem torn,
Out of the heap the spoilers had them torn

And had hem caried softe unto the tente
And carried gently over to the tent

Of Theseus, and he ful soone hem sente
Of Theseus; who shortly had them sent

To Atthenes to dwellen in prisoun
To Athens, there in prison cell to lie

Perpetuelly, he nolde no raunsoun.
For ever, without ransom, till they die.

And whan this worthy due hath thus ydon,
And when this worthy duke had all this done,

He took his hoost, and hoom he rood anon,
He gathered host and home he rode anon,

With laurer crowned, as a conquerour,
With laurel crowned again as conqueror;

And ther he lyveth in joye and in honour
There lived he in all joy and all honour

Terme of his lyve, what nedeth wordes mo?
His term of life; what more need words express?

And in a tour, in angwissh and in wo,
And in a tower, in anguish and distress,

Dwellen this Palamon and eek Arcite
Palamon and Arcita, day and night,

For evermoore, ther may no gold hem quite.
Dwelt whence no gold might help them to take flight.

This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day,
Thus passed by year by year and day by day,

Till it fil ones, in a morwe of May,
Till it fell out, upon a morn in May,

That Emelye, that fairer was to sene
That Emily, far fairer to be seen

Than is the lylie upon his stalke grene,
Than is the lily on its stalk of green,

And fressher than the May with floures newe-
And fresher than is May with flowers new

For with the rose colour stroof hir hewe,
(For with the rose's colour strove her hue,

I noot which was the fairer of hem two-
I know not which was fairer of the two),

Er it were day, as was hir wone to do,
Before the dawn, as was her wont to do,

She was arisen, and al redy dight-
She rose and dressed her body for delight;

For May wole have no slogardrie a-nyght;
For May will have no sluggards of the night.

The sesoun priketh every gentil herte,
That season rouses every gentle heart

And maketh hym out of his slepe to sterte,
And forces it from winter's sleep to start,

And seith, `arys and do thyn observaunce,'
Saying: Arise and show thy reverence.

This maked Emelye have remembraunce
So Emily remembered to go thence

To doon honour to May, and for to ryse.
In honour of the May, and so she rose.

Yclothed was she fressh, for to devyse,
Clothed, she was sweeter than any flower that blows;

Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse,
Her yellow hair was braided in one tress

Bihynde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse,
Behind her back, a full yard long, I guess.

And in the gardyn, at the sonne upriste,
And in the garden, as the sun up-rose,

She walketh up and doun, and as hir liste
She sauntered back and forth and through each close,

She gadereth floures, party white and rede,
Gathering many a flower, white and red,

To make a subtil gerland for hir hede,
To weave a delicate garland for her head;

And as an aungel hevenysshly she soong.
And like a heavenly angel's was her song.

The grete tour, that was so thikke and stroong,
The tower tall, which was so thick and strong,

Which of the castel was the chief dongeoun,
And of the castle was the great donjon,

Ther as the knyghtes weren in prisoun,
(Wherein the two knights languished in prison,

Of whiche I tolde yow, and tellen shal,
Of whom I told and shall yet tell, withal),

Was evene joynant to the gardyn wal
Was joined, at base, unto the garden wall

Ther as this Emelye hadde hir pleyynge.
Whereunder Emily went dallying.

Bright was the sonne, and cleer that morwenynge,
Bright was the sun and clear that morn in spring,

And Palamoun, this woful prisoner,
And Palamon, the woeful prisoner,

As was his wone, by leve of his gayler,
As was his wont, by leave of his gaoler,

Was risen, and romed in a chambre on heigh,
Was up and pacing round that chamber high,

In which he al the noble citee seigh,
From which the noble city filled his eye,

And eek the gardyn, ful of braunches grene,
And, too, the garden full of branches green,

Ther as this fresshe Emelye the shene
Wherein bright Emily, fair and serene,

Was in hire walk, and romed up and doun.
Went walking and went roving up and down.

This sorweful prisoner, this Palamoun,
This sorrowing prisoner, this Palamon,

Goth in the chambre romynge to and fro,
Being in the chamber, pacing to and fro,

And to hym-self compleynynge of his wo.
And to himself complaining of his woe,

That he was born, ful ofte he seyde, `allas!'
Cursing his birth, he often cried Alas!

And so bifel, by aventure or cas,
And so it was, by chance or other pass,

That thurgh a wyndow, thikke of many a barre
That through a window, closed by many a bar

Of iren greet, and square as any sparre,
Of iron, strong and square as any spar,

He cast his eye upon Emelya,
He cast his eyes upon Emilia,

And therwithal he bleynte, and cryede A!
And thereupon he blenched and cried out Ah!

As though he stongen were unto the herte.
As if he had been smitten to the heart.

And with that cry Arcite anon upsterte
And at that cry Arcita did up-start,

And seyde, Cosyn myn, what eyleth thee,
Asking: My cousin, why what ails you now

That art so pale and deedly on to see?
That you've so deathly pallor on your brow?

Why cridestow? who hath thee doon offence?
Why did you cry out? Who's offended you?

For Goddess love, taak al in pacience
For God's love, show some patience, as I do,

Oure prisoun, for it may noon oother be;
With prison, for it may not different be;

Fortune hath yeven us this adversitee.
Fortune has given this adversity.

Som wikke aspect or disposicioun
Some evil disposition or aspect

Of Saturne by sum constellacioun
Of Saturn did our horoscopes affect

Hath yeven us this, al though we hadde it sworn.
To bring us here, though differently 'twere sworn;

So stood the hevene, whan that we were born.
But so the stars stood when we two were born;

We moste endure it, this the short and playn.
We must endure it; that, in brief, is plain.

This Palamon answerde and seyde agayn,
This Palamon replied and said again:

Cosyn, for sothe, of this opinioun
Cousin, indeed in this opinion now

Thow hast a veyn ymaginacioun.
Your fancy is but vanity, I trow.

This prison caused me nat for to crye,
It's not our prison that caused me to cry.

But I was hurt right now thurgh-out myn eye
But I was wounded lately through the eye

Into myn herte, that wol my bane be.
Down to my heart, and that my bane will be.

The fairnesse of that lady, that I see
The beauty of the lady that I see

Yond in the gardyn romen to and fro,
There in that garden, pacing to and fro,

Is cause of al my criyng and my wo.
Is cause of all my crying and my woe.

I noot wher she be womman or goddesse,
I know not if she's woman or goddess;

But Venus is it, soothly as I gesse.
But Venus she is verily, I guess.

And therwithal, on knees doun he fil,
And thereupon down on his knees he fell,

And seyde, Venus, if it be thy wil,
And said: O Venus, if it be thy will

Yow in this gardyn thus to transfigure
To be transfigured in this garden, thus

Bifore me, sorweful wrecche creature,
Before me, sorrowing wretch, oh now help us

Out of this prisoun helpe that we may scapen!
Out of this prison to be soon escaped.

And if so be my destynee be shapen
And if it be my destiny is shaped,

By eterne word to dyen in prisoun,
By fate, to die in durance, in bondage,

Of oure lynage have som compassioun,
Have pity, then, upon our lineage

That is so lowe ybroght by tirannye.
That has been brought so low by tyranny.

And with that word Arcite gan espye
And on that word Arcita looked to see

Wher-as this lady romed to and fro,
This lady who went roving to and fro.

And with that sighte hir beautee hurte hym so,
And in that look her beauty struck him so

That if that Palamon was wounded sore,
That, if poor Palamon is wounded sore,

Arcite is hurt as moche as he, or moore.
Arcita is as deeply hurt, and more.

And with a sigh he seyde pitously,
And with a sigh he said then, piteously:

The fresshe beautee sleeth me sodeynly
The virgin beauty slays me suddenly

Of hir, that rometh in the yonder place!
Of her that wanders yonder in that place;

And but I have hir mercy and hir grace
And save I have her pity and her grace,

That I may seen hir atte leeste weye,
That I at least may see her day by day,

I nam but deed, ther is namoore to seye.
I am but dead; there is no more to say.

This Palamon, whan he tho wordes herde,
This Palamon, when these words he had heard,

Dispitously he looked and answerde,
Pitilessly he watched him, and answered:

Wheither seistow this in ernest or in pley?
Do you say this in earnest or in play?

Nay, quod Arcite, in ernest by my fey,
Nay, quoth Arcita, earnest, now, I say!

God helpe me so, me list ful yvele pleye.
God help me, I am in no mood for play!

This Palamon gan knytte his browes tweye;
Palamon knit his brows and stood at bay.

It nere, quod he, to thee no greet honour
It will not prove, he said, to your honour

For to be fals, ne for to be traitour
After so long a time to turn traitor

To me, that am thy cosyn and thy brother,
To me, who am your cousin and your brother,

Ysworn ful depe, and ech of us til oother,
Sworn as we are, and each unto the other,

That nevere for to dyen in the peyne,
That never, though for death in any pain,

Til that the deeth departe shal us tweyne,
Never, indeed, till death shall part us twain,

Neither of us in love to hyndre other,
Either of us in love shall hinder other,

Ne in noon oother cas, my leeve brother,
No, nor in any thing, O my dear brother;

But that thou sholdest trewely forthren me
But that, instead, you shall so further me

In every cas, as I shal forthren thee.
As I shall you. All this we did agree.

This was thyn ooth, and myn also certeyn,
Such was your oath and such was mine also.

I woot right wel thou darst it nat withseyn.
You dare not now deny it, well I know.

Thus artow of my conseil, out of doute;
Thus you are of my party, beyond doubt.

And now thou woldest falsly been aboute
And now you would all falsely go about

To love my lady, whom I love and serve
To love my lady, whom I love and serve,

And evere shal, til that myn herte sterve.
And shall while life my heart's blood may preserve.

Nay, certes, false Arcite, thow shalt nat so!
Nay, false Arcita, it shall not be so.

I loved hir first, and tolde thee my wo
I loved her first, and told you all my woe,

As to my conseil, and to my brother sworn,
As to a brother and to one that swore

To forthre me as I have toold biforn,
To further me, as I have said before.

For which thou art ybounden as a knyght
For which you are in duty bound, as knight,

To helpen me, if it lay in thy myght,
To help me, if the thing lie in your might,

Or elles artow fals, I dar wel seyn.
Or else you're false, I say, and downfallen.

This Arcite ful proudly spak ageyn,
Then this Arcita proudly spoke again:

Thow shalt, quod he, be rather fals than I.
You shall, he said, be rather false than I;

But thou art fals, I telle thee outrely,
And that you're so, I tell you utterly;

For paramour I loved hir first er thow.
For par amour I loved her first, you know.

What, wiltow seyn thou wistest nat yet now
What can you say? You know not, even now,

Wheither she be a womman or goddesse?
Whether she is a woman or goddess!

Thyn is affeccioun of hoolynesse,
Yours is a worship as of holiness,

And myn is love as to a creature;
While mine is love, as of a mortal maid;

For which I tolde thee myn aventure
Wherefore I told you of it, unafraid,

As to my cosyn and my brother sworn.
As to my cousin and my brother sworn.

I pose, that thow lovedest hir biforn;
Let us assume you loved her first, this morn;

Wostow nat wel the olde clerkes sawe
Know you not well the ancient writer's saw

That `who shal yeve a lovere any lawe?'
Of 'Who shall give a lover any law?'

Love is a gretter lawe, by my pan,
Love is a greater law, aye by my pan,

Than may be yeve of any erthely man.
Than man has ever given to earthly man.

And therfore positif lawe and swich decree
And therefore statute law and such decrees

Is broken al day for love in ech degree.
Are broken daily and in all degrees.

A man moot nedes love, maugree his heed,
A man must needs have love, maugre his head.

He may nat fleen it, thogh he sholde be deed,
He cannot flee it though he should be dead,

Al be she mayde, or wydwe, or elles wyf.
And be she maid, or widow, or a wife.

And eek it is nat likly, al thy lyf,
And yet it is not likely that, in life,

To stonden in hir grace, namoore shal I,
You'll stand within her graces; nor shall I;

For wel thou woost thyselven, verraily,
For you are well aware, aye verily,

That thou and I be dampned to prisoun
That you and I are doomed to prison drear

Perpetuelly, us gayneth no faunsoun.
Perpetually; we gain no ransom here.

We stryven as dide the houndes for the boon,
We strive but as those dogs did for the bone;

They foughte al day, and yet hir part was noon.
They fought all day, and yet their gain was none.

Ther cam a kyte, whil they weren so wrothe,
Till came a kite while they were still so wroth

And baar awey the boon bitwixe hem bothe.
And bore the bone away between them both.

And therfore at the kynges court, my brother,
And therefore, at the king's court, O my brother,

Ech man for hymself, ther is noon oother.
It's each man for himself and not for other.

Love if thee list, for I love, and ay shal;
Love if you like; for I love and aye shall;

And soothly, leeve brother, this is al.
And certainly, dear brother, that is all.

Heere in this prisoun moote we endure,
Here in this prison cell must we remain

And everich of us take his aventure.
And each endure whatever fate ordain.

Greet was the strif and long bitwix hem tweye,
Great was the strife, and long, betwixt the two,

If that I hadde leyser for to seye-
If I had but the time to tell it you,

But to theffect; it happed on a day,
Save in effect. It happened on a day

To telle it yow as shortly as I may,
(To tell the tale as briefly as I may),

A worthy duc, that highte Perotheus,
A worthy duke men called Pirithous,

That felawe was unto duc Theseus
Who had been friend unto Duke Theseus

Syn thilke day that they were children lite,
Since each had been a little child, a chit,

Was come to Atthenes his felawe to visite,
Was come to visit Athens and visit

And for to pleye as he was wont to do-
His play-fellow, as he was wont to do,

For in this world he loved no man so,
For in this whole world he loved no man so;

And he loved hym als tendrely agayn.
And Theseus loved him as truly- nay,

So wel they lovede, as olde bookes sayn,
So well each loved the other, old books say,

That whan that oon was deed, soothly to telle,
That when one died (it is but truth I tell),

His felawe wente and soughte hym doun in helle.
The other went and sought him down in Hell;

But of that storie list me nat to write;
But of that tale I have no wish to write.

Duc Perotheus loved wel Arcite,
Pirithous loved Arcita, too, that knight,

And hadde hym knowe at Thebes yeer by yere,
Having known him in Thebes full many a year;

And finally, at requeste and preyere
And finally, at his request and prayer,

Of Perotheus, withouten any raunsoun
And that without a coin of ransom paid,

Duc Theseus hym leet out of prisoun
Duke Theseus released him out of shade,

Frely to goon, wher that hym liste overal,
Freely to go where'er he wished, and to

In swich a gyse as I you tellen shal.
His own devices, as I'll now tell you.

This was the forward, pleynly for tendite,
The compact was, to set it plainly down,

Bitwixen Theseus and hym Arcite,
As made between those two of great renown:

That if so were that Arcite were yfounde
That if Arcita, any time, were found,

Evere in his lif, by day or nyght or stounde,
Ever in life, by day or night, on ground

In any contree of this Theseus,
Of any country of this Theseus,

And he were caught, it was acorded thus,
And he were caught, it was concerted thus,

That with a swerd he sholde lese his heed;
That by the sword he straight should lose his head.

Ther nas noon oother remedie ne reed,
He had no choice, so taking leave he sped

But taketh his leve and homward he him spedde;
Homeward to Thebes, lest by the sword's sharp edge

Lat hym be war, his nekke lith to wedde!
He forfeit life. His neck was under pledge.

How greet a sorwe suffreth now Arcite!
How great a sorrow is Arcita's now!

The deeth he feeleth thurgh his herte smyte,
How through his heart he feels death's heavy blow,

He wepeth, wayleth, crieth pitously,
He weeps, he wails, he cries out piteously;

To sleen hymself he waiteth prively.
He thinks to slay himself all privily.

He seyde, Allas, that day that he was born!
Said he: Alas, the day that I was born!

Now is my prisoun worse than biforn;
I'm in worse prison, now, and more forlorn;

Now is me shape eternally to dwelle
Now am I doomed eternally to dwell

Nat in purgatorie but in helle.
No more in Purgatory, but in Hell.

Allas, that evere knew I Perotheus!
Alas, that I have known Pirithous!

For elles hadde I dwelled with Theseus,
For else had I remained with Theseus,

Yfetered in his prisoun evermo;
Fettered within that cell; but even so

Thanne hadde I been in blisse, and nat in wo.
Then had I been in bliss and not in woe.

Oonly the sighte of hire whom that I serve,
Only the sight of her that I would serve,

Though that I nevere hir grace may deserve,
Though I might never her dear grace deserve,

Wolde han suffised right ynough for me.
Would have sufficed, oh well enough for me!

O deere cosyn Palamon, quod he,
O my dear cousin Palamon, said he,

Thyn is the victorie of this aventure.
Yours is the victory, and that is sure,

Ful blisfully in prison maistow dure.-
For there, full happily, you may endure.

In prisoun? certes, nay, but in Paradys!
In prison? Never, but in Paradise!

Wel hath Fortune yturned thee the dys,
Oh, well has Fortune turned for you the dice,

That hast the sighte of hir, and I thabsence;
Who have the sight of her, I the absence.

For possible is, syn thou hast hir presence,
For possible it is, in her presence,

And art a knyght, a worthy and an able,
You being a knight, a worthy and able,

That by som cas, syn Fortune is chaungeable,
That by some chance, since Fortune's changeable.

Thow maist to thy desir som tyme atteyne.
You may to your desire sometime attain.

But I, that am exiled and bareyne
But I, that am in exile and in pain,

Of alle grace, and in so greet dispeir
Stripped of all hope and in so deep despair

That ther nys erthe, water, fir, ne eir,
That there's no earth nor water, fire nor air,

Ne creature, that of hem maked is,
Nor any creature made of them there is

That may me heelp, or doon confort in this,
To help or give me comfort, now, in this-

Wel oughte I sterve in wanhope and distresse,
Surely I'll die of sorrow and distress;

Farwel, my lif, my lust, and my galdnesse!
Farewell, my life, my love, my joyousness!

Allas, why pleynen folk so in commune
Alas! Why is it men so much complain

On purveyaunce of God or of Fortune,
Of what great God, or Fortune, may ordain,

That yeveth hem ful ofte in many a gyse
When better is the gift, in any guise,

Wel bettre than they kan hem-self devyse?
Than men may often for themselves devise?

Som man desireth for to han richesse,
One man desires only that great wealth

That cause is of his moerdre of greet siknesse.
Which may but cause his death or long ill-health.

And som man wolde out of his prisoun fayn,
One who from prison gladly would be free,

That in his hous is of his meynee slayn.
At home by his own servants slain might be.

Infinite harmes been in thai mateere,
Infinite evils lie therein, 'tis clear;

We witen nat what thing we preyen here.
We know not what it is we pray for here.

We faren as he that dronke is as a mous;
We fare as he that's drunken as a mouse;

A dronke man woot wel he hath an hous,
A drunk man knows right well he has a house,

But he noot which the righte wey is thider,
But he knows not the right way leading thither;

And to a dronke man the wey is slider.
And a drunk man is sure to slip and slither.

And certes, in this world so faren we;
And certainly, in this world so fare we;

We seken faste after felicitee,
We furiously pursue felicity,

But we goon wrong ful often trewely.
Yet we go often wrong before we die.

Thus may we seyen alle, and namely I,
This may we all admit, and specially I,

That wende and hadde a greet opinioun
Who deemed and held, as I were under spell,

That if I myghte escapen from prisoun,
That if I might escape from prison cell,

Thanne hadde I been in joye and perfit heele,
Then would I find again what might heal,

Ther now I am exiled fro my wele.
Who now am only exiled from my weal.

Syn that I may nat seen you, Emelye,
For since I may not see you, Emily,

I nam but deed, ther nys no remedye.
I am but dead; there is no remedy.

Upon that oother syde, Palamon,
And on the other hand, this Palamon,

Whan that he wiste Arcite was agon,
When that he found Arcita truly gone,

Swich sorwe he maketh, that the grete tour
Such lamentation made he, that the tower

Resouneth of his youlyng and clamour.
Resounded of his crying, hour by hour.

The pure fettres on his shynes grete
The very fetters on his legs were yet

Weren of his bittre salte teeres wete.
Again with all his bitter salt tears wet.

Allas, quod he, Arcite, cosyn myn!
Alas! said he, Arcita, cousin mine,

Of al oure strif, God woot, the fruyt is thyn.
With all our strife, God knows, you've won the wine.

Thow walkest now in Thebes at thy large,
You're walking, now, in Theban streets, at large,

And of my wo thow yevest litel charge.
And all my woe you may from mind discharge.

Thou mayst, syn thou hast wysdom and manhede,
You may, too, since you've wisdom and manhood,

Assemblen alle the folk of oure kynrede,
Assemble all the people of our blood

And make a werre so sharp on this citee,
And wage a war so sharp on this city

That by som aventure, or som tretee,
That by some fortune, or by some treaty,

Thow mayst have hir to lady and to wyf,
You shall yet have that lady to your wife

For whom that I moste nedes lese my lyf.
For whom I now must needs lay down my life.

For as by wey of possibilitee,
For surely 'tis in possibility,

Sith thou art at thy large of prisoun free,
Since you are now at large, from prison free,

And art a lord, greet is thyn avauntage
And are a lord, great is your advantage

Moore than is myn, that sterve here in a cage.
Above my own, who die here in a cage.

For I moot wepe and wayle, whil I lyve,
For I must weep and wail, the while I live,

With al the wo that prison may me yeve,
In all the grief that prison cell may give,

And eek with peyne that love me yeveth also,
And now with pain that love gives me, also,

That doubleth al my torment and my wo.
Which doubles all my torment and my woe.

Therwith the fyr of jalousie up-sterte
Therewith the fires of jealousy up-start

Withinne his brest, and hente him by the herte
Within his breast and burn him to the heart

So woodly, that he lyk was to biholde
So wildly that he seems one, to behold,

The boxtree, or the asshen dede and colde.
Like seared box tree, or ashes, dead and cold.

Thanne seyde he, O cruel goddes, that governe
Then said he: O you cruel Gods, that sway

This world with byndyng of youre word eterne,
This world in bondage of your laws, for aye,

And writen in the table of atthamaunt
And write upon the tablets adamant

Youre parlement and youre eterne graunt,
Your counsels and the changeless words you grant,

What is mankynde moore unto you holde
What better view of mankind do you hold

Than is the sheep that rouketh in the folde?
Than of the sheep that huddle in the fold?

For slayn is man right as another beeste,
For man must die like any other beast,

And dwelleth eek in prison and arreeste,
Or rot in prison, under foul arrest,

And hath siknesse, and greet adversitee,
And suffer sickness and misfortune sad,

And ofte tymes giltelees, pardee!
And still be ofttimes guiltless, too, by gad!

What governance is in this prescience
What management is in this prescience

That giltelees tormenteth innocence?
That, guiltless, yet torments our innocence?

And yet encresseth this al my penaunce,
And this increases all my pain, as well,

That man is bounden to his observaunce,
That man is bound by law, nor may rebel,

For Goddes sake, to letten of his wille,
For fear of God, but must repress his will,

Ther as a beest may al his lust fulfille.
Whereas a beast may all his lust fulfill.

And whan a beest is deed, he hath no peyne,
And when a beast is dead, he feels no pain;

But man after his deeth moot wepe and pleyne,
But, after death, man yet must weep amain,

Though in this world he have care and wo.
Though in this world he had but care and woe:

Withouten doute it may stonden so.
There is no doubt that it is even so.

The answere of this lete I to dyvynys,
The answer leave I to divines to tell,

But well I woot, that in this world greet pyne ys.
But well I know this present world is hell.

Allas, I se a serpent or a theef,
Alas! I see a serpent or a thief,

That many a trewe man hath doon mescheef,
That has brought many a true man unto grief,

Goon at his large, and where hym list may turne!
Going at large, and where he wills may turn,

But I moot been in prisoun thurgh Saturne,
But I must lie in gaol, because Saturn,

And eek thurgh Juno, jalous and eek wood,
And Juno too, both envious and mad,

That hath destroyed wel ny al the blood
Have spilled out well-nigh all the blood we had

Of Thebes, with hise waste walles wyde.
At Thebes, and desolated her wide walls.

And Venus sleeth me on that oother syde
And Venus slays me with the bitter galls

For jalousie and fere of hym Arcite.
Of fear of Arcita, and jealousy.

Now wol I stynte of Palamon a lite,
Now will I leave this Palamon, for he

And lete hym in his prisoun stille dwelle,
Is in his prison, where he still must dwell,

And of Arcita forth I wol yow telle.
And of Arcita will I forthwith tell.

The somer passeth, and the nyghtes longe
Summer being passed away and nights grown long,

Encressen double wise the peynes stronge
Increased now doubly all the anguish strong

Bothe of the lovere and the prisoner;
Both of the lover and the prisoner.

I noot which hath the wofuller mester.
I know not which one was the woefuller.

For shortly for to seyn, this Palamoun
For, to be brief about it, Palamon

Perpetuelly is dampned to prisoun
Is doomed to lie for ever in prison,

In cheynes and in fettres to been deed,
In chains and fetters till he shall be dead;

And Arcite is exiled upon his heed
And exiled (on the forfeit of his head)

For evere mo as out of that contree,
Arcita must remain abroad, nor see,

Ne nevere mo he shal his lady see.
For evermore, the face of his lady.

Yow loveres axe I now this questioun,
You lovers, now I ask you this question:

Who hath the worse, Arcite or Palamoun?
Who has the worse, Arcita or Palamon?

That oon may seen his lady day by day,
The one may see his lady day by day,

But in prison he moot dwelle alway;
But yet in prison must he dwell for aye.

That oother wher hym list may ride or go,
The other, where he wishes, he may go,

But seen his lady shal he nevere mo.
But never see his lady more, ah no.

Now demeth as yow liste ye that kan,
Now answer as you wish, all you that can.

For I wol telle forth, as I bigan.
For I will speak right on as I began.

Explicit prima pars.
Explicit prima pars.

Sequitur pars secunda.
Sequitur pars secunda.

Whan that Arcite to Thebes comen was,
Now when Arcita unto Thebes was come,

Ful ofte a day he swelte and seyde `allas,'
He lay and languished all day in his home,

For seen his lady shal he nevere mo;
Since he his lady nevermore should see,

And shortly to concluden al his wo,
But telling of his sorrow brief I'll be.

So muche sorwe hadde nevere creature,
Had never any man so much torture,

That is, or shal whil that the world may dure.
No, nor shall have while this world may endure.

His sleep, his mete, his drynke is hym biraft,
Bereft he was of sleep and meat and drink,

That lene he wex and drye as is a shaft.
That lean he grew and dry as shaft, I think.

Hise eyen holwe and grisly to biholde,
His eyes were hollow and ghastly to behold,

His hewe falow and pale as asshen colde;
His face was sallow, all pale and ashen-cold,

And solitarie he was and evere allone
And solitary kept he and alone,

And waillynge al the nyght, makynge his mone.
Wailing the whole night long, making his moan.

And if he herde song or instrument,
And if he heard a song or instrument,

Thanne wolde he wepe, he myghte nat be stent.
Then he would weep ungoverned and lament;

So feble eek were hise spiritz, and so lowe,
So feeble were his spirits, and so low,

And chaunged so, that no man koude knowe
And so changed was he, that no man could know

His speche nor his voys, though men it herde.
Him by his words or voice, whoever heard.

And in his geere for al the world he ferde
And in this change, for all the world he fared

Nat oonly lik the loveris maladye
As if not troubled by malady of love,

Of Hereos, but rather lyk manye
But by that humor dark and grim, whereof

Engendred of humour malencolik
Springs melancholy madness in the brain,

Biforen in his celle fantastik,
And fantasy unbridled holds its reign.

And shortly turned was al up-so-doun
And shortly, all was turned quite upside-down,

Bothe habit and eek disposicioun
Both habits and the temper all had known

Of hym, this woful lovere daun Arcite.
Of him, this woeful lover, Dan Arcite.

What sholde I al day of his wo endite?
Why should I all day of his woe indite?

Whan he endured hadde a yeer or two
When he'd endured all this a year or two,

This crueel torment, and this peyne and woo,
This cruel torment and this pain and woe,

At Thebes in his contree, as I seyde,
At Thebes, in his own country, as I said,

Upon a nyght in sleep as he hym leyde,
Upon a night, while sleeping in his bed,

Hym thoughte how that the wynged god Mercurie
He dreamed of how the winged God Mercury

Biforn hym stood, and bad hym to be murie.
Before him stood and bade him happier be.

His slepy yerde in hond he bar uprighte,
His sleep-bestowing wand he bore upright;

An hat he werede upon hise heris brighte.
A hat he wore upon his ringlets bright.

Arrayed was this god, as he took keep,
Arrayed this god was (noted at a leap)

As he was whan that Argus took his sleep;
As he'd been when to Argus he gave sleep.

And seyde hym thus, To Atthenes shaltou wende,
And thus he spoke: To Athens shall you wend;

Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende.
For all your woe is destined there to end.

And with that word Arcite wook and sterte.
And on that word Arcita woke and started.

Now trewely, how soore that me smerte,
Now truly, howsoever sore I'm smarted,

Quod he, to Atthenes right now wol I fare,
Said he, to Athens right now will I fare;

Ne for the drede of deeth shal I nat spare
Nor for the dread of death will I now spare

To se my lady that I love and serve,
To see my lady, whom I love and serve;

In hir presence I recche nat to sterve.
I will not reck of death, with her, nor swerve.

And with that word he caughte a greet mirour,
And with that word he caught a great mirror,

And saugh that chaunged was al his colour,
And saw how changed was all his old colour,

And saugh his visage al in another kynde.
And saw his visage altered from its kind.

And right anon it ran hym in his mynde,
And right away it ran into his mind

That sith his face was so disfigured
That since his face was now disfigured so,

Of maladye, the which he hadde endured,
By suffering endured (as well we know),

He myghte wel, if that he bar hym lowe,
He might, if he should bear him low in town,

Lyve in Atthenes, everemoore unknowe,
Live there in Athens evermore, unknown,

And seen his lady wel ny day by day.
Seeing his lady well-nigh every day.

And right anon he chaunged his array,
And right anon he altered his array,

And cladde hym as a povre laborer,
Like a poor labourer in mean attire,

And al allone, save oonly a squier
And all alone, save only for a squire,

That knew his privetee and al his cas,
Who knew his secret heart and all his case,

Which was disgised povrely, as he was,
And who was dressed as poorly as he was,

To Atthenes is he goon, the nexte way.
To Athens was he gone the nearest way.

And to the court he wente, upon a day,
And to the court he went upon a day,

And at the gate he profreth his servyse,
And at the gate he proffered services

To drugge and drawe, what so men wol devyse.
To drudge and drag, as any one devises.

And shortly of this matere for to seyn,
And to be brief herein, and to be plain,

He fil in office with a chamberleyn,
He found employment with a chamberlain

The which that dwellynge was with Emelye,
Was serving in the house of Emily;

For he was wys and koude soone espye
For he was sharp and very soon could see

Of every servant which that serveth here.
What every servant did who served her there.

Wel koude he hewen wode, and water bere,
Right well could he hew wood and water bear,

For he was yong and myghty for the nones,
For he was young and mighty, let me own,

And therto he was strong and big of bones
And big of muscle, aye and big of bone,

To doon that any wight kan hym devyse.
To do what any man asked, in a trice.

A yeer or two he was in this servyse
A year or two he was in this service,

Page of the chambre of Emelye the brighte;
Page of the chamber of Emily the bright;

And Philostrate he seyde that he highte.
He said Philostrates would name him right.

But half so wel biloved a man as he
But half so well beloved a man as he

Ne was ther nevere in court, of his degree;
Was never in that court, of his degree;

He was so gentil of condicioun
His gentle nature was so clearly shown,

That thurghout al the court was his renoun.
That throughout all the court spread his renown.

They seyden, that it were a charitee,
They said it were but kindly courtesy

That Theseus wolde enhaunsen his degree,
If Theseus should heighten his degree

And putten hym in worshipful servyse
And put him in more honourable service

Ther as he myghte his vertu exercise.
Wherein he might his virtue exercise.

And thus withinne a while his name is spronge
And thus, anon, his name was so up-sprung,

Bothe of hise dedes and his goode tonge,
Both for his deeds and sayings of his tongue,

That Theseus hath taken hym so neer
That Theseus had brought him nigh and nigher

That of his chambre he made hym a Squier,
And of the chamber he had made him squire,

And gaf hym gold to mayntene his degree.
And given him gold to maintain dignity.

And eek men broghte hym out of his contree
Besides, men brought him, from his own country,

From yeer to yeer, ful pryvely, his rente.
From year to year, clandestinely, his rent;

But honestly and slyly he it spente,
But honestly and slyly it was spent,

That no man wondred how that he it hadde.
And no man wondered how he came by it.

And thre yeer in this wise his lif he ladde,
And three years thus he lived, with much profit,

And bar hym so in pees, and eek ibn werre,
And bore him so in peace and so in war

Ther was no man that Theseus hath derre.
There was no man that Theseus loved more.

And in this blisse lete I now Arcite,
And in such bliss I leave Arcita now,

And speke I wole of Palamon a lite.
And upon Palamon some words bestow.

In derknesse and horrible and strong prisoun
In darksome, horrible, and strong prison

Thise seven yeer hath seten Palamoun,
These seven years has now sat Palamon,

Forpyned, what for wo and for distresse.
Wasted by woe and by his long distress.

Who feeleth double soor and hevynesse
Who has a two-fold evil heaviness

But Palamon, that love destreyneth so,
But Palamon? whom love yet tortures so

That wood out of his wit he goth for wo?
That half out of his wits he is for woe;

And eek therto he is a prisoner,
And joined thereto he is a prisoner,

Perpetuelly, noght oonly for a yer.
Perpetually, not only for a year.

Who koude ryme in Englyssh proprely
And who could rhyme in English, properly,

His martirdom? Forsothe it am nat I,
His martyrdom? Forsooth, it is not I;

Therfore I passe as lightly as I may.
And therefore I pass lightly on my way.

It fel that in the seventhe yer, in May,
It fell out in the seventh year, in May,

The thridde nyght, as olde bookes seyn,
On the third night (as say the books of old

That al this storie tellen moore pleyn,
Which have this story much more fully told),

Were it by aventure or destynee-
Were it by chance or were it destiny

As, whan a thyng is shapen, it shal be-
(Since, when a thing is destined, it must be),

That soone after the mydnyght, Palamoun
That, shortly after midnight, Palamon,

By helpyng of a freend, brak his prisoun
By helping of a friend, broke from prison,

And fleeth the citee faste as he may go;
And fled the city, fast as he might go;

For he hade yeve his gayler drynke so
For he had given his guard a drink that so

Of a clarree maad of a certeyn wyn,
Was mixed of spice and honey and certain wine

With nercotikes and opie of Thebes fyn,
And Theban opiate and anodyne,

That al that nyght, thogh that men wolde him shake,
That all that night, although a man might shake

The gayler sleep, he myghte nat awake.
This gaoler, he slept on, nor could awake.

And thus he fleeth as faste as evere he may;
And thus he flees as fast as ever he may.

The nyght was short and faste by the day,
The night was short and it was nearly day,

That nedes-cost he moot hymselven hyde;
Wherefore he needs must find a place to hide;

And til a grove, faste ther bisyde,
And to a grove that grew hard by, with stride

With dredeful foot thanne stalketh Palamoun.
Of furtive foot, went fearful Palamon.

For shortly this was his opinioun,
In brief, he'd formed his plan, as he went on,

That in that grove he wolde hym hyde al day,
That in the grove he would lie fast all day,

And in the nyght thanne wolde he take his way
And when night came, then would he take his way

To Thebesward, his freendes for to preye
Toward Thebes, and there find friends, and of them pray

On Theseus to helpe hym to werreye;
Their help on Theseus in war's array;

And shortly, outher he wolde lese his lif,
And briefly either he would lose his life,

Or wynnen Emelye unto his wyf;
Or else win Emily to be his wife;

This is theffect and his entente pleyn.
This is the gist of his intention plain.

Now wol I turne to Arcite ageyn,
Now I'll return to Arcita again,

That litel wiste how ny that was his care
Who little knew how near to him was care

Til that Fortune had broght him in the snare.
Till Fortune caught him in her tangling snare.

The bisy larke, messager of day,
The busy lark, the herald of the day,

Salueth in hir song the morwe gray,
Salutes now in her song the morning grey;

And firy Phebus riseth up so brighte
And fiery Phoebus rises up so bright

That al the orient laugheth of the lighte,
That all the east is laughing with the light,

And with hise stremes dryeth in the greves
And with his streamers dries, among the greves,

The silver dropes hangynge on the leves;
The silver droplets hanging on the leaves.

And Arcita, that is in the court roial
And so Arcita, in the court royal

With Theseus, his squier principal,
With Theseus and his squire principal,

Is risen, and looketh on the myrie day.
Is risen, and looks on the merry day.

And for to doon his observaunce ot May,
And now, to do his reverence to May,

Remembrynge on the poynt of his desir
Calling to mind the point of his desire,

He on a courser startlynge as the fir
He on a courser, leaping high like fire,

Is riden into the feeldes, hym to pleye,
Is ridden to the fields to muse and play,

Out of the court, were it a myle or tweye.
Out of the court, a mile or two away;

And to the grove of which that I yow tolde
And to the grove, whereof I lately told,

By aventure his wey he gan to holde,
By accident his way began to hold,

To maken hym a gerland of the greves,
To make him there the garland that one weaves

Were it of wodebynde or hawethorn-leves.
Of woodbine leaves and of green hawthorn leaves.

And loude he song ayeyn the sonne shene,
And loud he sang within the sunlit sheen:

May, with alle thy floures and thy grene,
O May, with all thy flowers and all thy green,

Welcome be thou, faire fresshe May,
Welcome be thou, thou fair and freshening May:

In hope that I som grene gete may.
I hope to pluck some garland green today.

And from his courser, with a lusty herte,
And from his courser, with a lusty heart,

Into a grove ful hastily he sterte,
Into the grove right hastily did start,

And in a path he rometh up and doun
And on a path he wandered up and down,

Ther as by aventure this Palamoun
Near which, and as it chanced, this Palamon

Was in a bussh, that no man myghte hym se;
Lay in the thicket, where no man might see,

For soore afered of his deeth was he.
For sore afraid of finding death was be.

No thyng ne knew he that it was Arcite,
He knew not that Arcita was so near:

God woot, he wolde have trowed it ful lite!
God knows he would have doubted eye and ear,

But sooth is seyd, gon sithen many yeres,
But it has been a truth these many years

That feeld hath eyen and the wode hath eres.
That Fields have eyes and every wood has ears.

It is ful fair a man to bere hym evene,
It's well for one to bear himself with poise;

For al day meeteth men at unset stevene.
For every day unlooked-for chance annoys.

Ful litel woot Arcite of his felawe,
And little knew Arcita of his friend,

That was so ny to herknen al his sawe,
Who was so near and heard him to the end,

For in the bussh he sitteth now ful stille.
Where in the bush lie sat now, keeping still.

Whan that Arcite hadde romed al his fille
Arcita, having roamed and roved his fill,

And songen al the roundel lustily,
And having sung his rondel, lustily,

Into a studie he fil al sodeynly,
Into a study fell he, suddenly,

As doon thise loveres in hir queynte geres,
As do these lovers in their strange desires,

Now in the croppe, now doun in the breres,
Now in the trees, now down among the briers,

Now up, now doun as boket in a welle.
Now up, now down, like bucket in a well.

Right as the Friday, soothly for to telle,
Even as on a Friday, truth to tell,

Now it shyneth, now it reyneth faste,
The sun shines now, and now the rain comes fast,

Right so kan geery Venus overcaste
Even so can fickle Venus overcast

The hertes of hir folk; right as hir day
The spirits of her people; as her day,

Is gereful, right so chaungeth she array.
Is changeful, so she changes her array.

Selde is the Friday al the wowke ylike.
Seldom is Friday quite like all the week.

Whan that Arcite had songe, he gan to sike,
Arcita, having sung, began to speak,

And sette hym doun withouten any moore;
And sat him down, sighing like one forlorn.

Allas, quod he, that day that I was bore!
Alas, said he, the day that I was born!

How longe, Juno, thurgh thy crueltee
How long, O Juno, of thy cruelty,

Woltow werreyen Thebes the Citee?
Wilt thou wage bitter war on Thebes city?

Allas, ybroght is to confusioun
Alas! Confounded beyond all reason

The blood roial of Cadme and Amphioun!
The blood of Cadmus and of Amphion;

Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man
Of royal Cadmus, who was the first man

That Thebes bulte, or first the toun bigan,
To build at Thebes, and first the town began,

And of the citee first was crouned kyng,
And first of all the city to be king;

Of his lynage am I, and his ofspryng,
Of his lineage am I, and his offspring,

By verray ligne, as of the stok roial,
By true descent, and of the stock royal:

And now I am so caytyf and so thral
And now I'm such a wretched serving thrall,

That he that is my mortal enemy
That he who is my mortal enemy,

I serve hym as his squier povrely.
I serve him as his squire, and all humbly.

And yet dooth Juno me wel moore shame,
And even more does Juno give me shame,

For I dar noght biknowe myn owene name,
For I dare not acknowledge my own name;

But theras I was wont to highte Arcite,
But whereas I was Arcita by right,

Now highte I Philostrate, noght worth a myte.
Now I'm Philostrates, not worth a mite.

Allas, thou felle Mars! allas, Juno!
Alas, thou cruel Mars! Alas, Juno!

Thus hath youre ire oure kynrede al fordo,
Thus have your angers all our kin brought low,

Save oonly me, and wrecched Palamoun
Save only me, and wretched Palamon,

That Theseus martireth in prisoun.
Whom Theseus martyrs yonder in prison.

And over al this, to sleen me outrely,
And above all, to slay me utterly,

Love hath his firy dart so brennyngly
Love has his fiery dart so burningly

Ystiked thurgh my trewe careful herte,
Struck through my faithful and care-laden heart,

That shapen was my deeth erst than my sherte.
My death was patterned ere my swaddling-shirt.

Ye sleen me with youre eyen, Emelye,
You slay me with your two eyes, Emily;

Ye been the cause wherfore that I dye.
You are the cause for which I now must die.

Of al the remenant of myn oother care
For on the whole of all my other care

Ne sette I nat the montance of a tare,
I would not set the value of a tare,

So that I koude doon aught to youre plesaunce.
So I could do one thing to your pleasance!

And with that word he fil doun in a traunce
And with that word he fell down in a trance

A longe tyme, and after he upsterte.
That lasted long; and then he did up-start.

This Palamoun, that thoughte that thurgh his herte
This Palamon, who thought that through his heart

He felte a coold swerd sodeynliche glyde,
He felt a cold and sudden sword blade glide,

For ire he quook, no lenger wolde he byde.
For rage he shook, no longer would he hide.

And whan that he had herd Arcites tale,
But after he had heard Arcita's tale,

As he were wood, with face deed and pale,
As he were mad, with face gone deathly pale,

He stirte hym up out of the buskes thikke,
He started up and sprang out of the thicket,

And seide, Arcite, false traytour wikke!
Crying: Arcita, oh you traitor wicked,

Now artow hent that lovest my lady so,
Now are you caught, that crave my lady so,

For whom that I have al this peyne and wo,
For whom I suffer all this pain and woe,

And art my blood, and to my conseil sworn,
And are my blood, and know my secrets' store,

As I ful ofte have seyd thee heer-biforn,
As I have often told you heretofore,

And hast byjaped heere duc Theseus,
And have befooled the great Duke Thesues,

And falsly chaunged hast thy name thus.
And falsely changed your name and station thus:

I wol be deed, or elles thou shalt dye;
Either I shall be dead or you shall die.

Thou shalt nat love my lady Emelye,
You shall not love my lady Emily,

But I wol love hire oonly, and namo,
But I will love her, and none other, no;

For I am Palamon, thy mortal foo!
For I am Palamon, your mortal foe.

And though that I no wepene have in this place,
And though I have no weapon in this place,

But out of prison am astert by grace,
Being but out of prison by God's grace,

I drede noght that outher thow shalt dye,
I say again, that either you shall die

Or thow ne shalt nat loven Emelye.
Or else forgo your love for Emily.

Chees which thou wolt, for thou shalt nat asterte!
Choose which you will, for you shall not depart.

This Arcite, with ful despitous herte,
This Arcita, with scornful, angry heart,

Whan he hym knew, and hadde his tale herd,
When he knew him and all the tale had heard,

As fiers as leoun pulled out his swerd,
Fierce as a lion, out he pulled a sword,

And seyde thus: By God that sit above,
And answered thus: By God that sits above!

Nere it that thou art sik and wood for love,
Were it not you are sick and mad for love,

And eek that thow no wepne hast in this place,
And that you have no weapon in this place,

Thou sholdest nevere out of this grove pace,
Out of this grove you'd never move a pace,

That thou ne sholdest dyen of myn hond.
But meet your death right now, and at my hand.

For I defye the seurete and the bond
For I renounce the bond and its demand

Which that thou seist that I have maad to thee.
Which you assert that I have made with you.

What, verray fool, thynk wel that love is free!
What, arrant fool, love's free to choose and do,

And I wol love hir, maugree al thy myght!
And I will have her, spite of all your might!

But for as muche thou art a worthy knyght,
But in as much as you're a worthy knight

And wilnest to darreyne hire by bataille,
And willing to defend your love, in mail,

Have heer my trouthe; tomorwe I wol nat faille
Hear now this word: tomorrow I'll not fail

Withoute wityng of any oother wight
(Without the cognizance of any wight)

That heere I wol be founden as a knyght,
To come here armed and harnessed as a knight,

And bryngen harneys right ynough for thee,
And to bring arms for you, too, as you'll see;

And chese the beste, and leve the worste for me.
And choose the better and leave the worse for me.

And mete and drynke this nyght wol I brynge
And meat and drink this very night I'll bring,

Ynough for thee, and clothes for thy beddynge;
Enough for you, and clothes for your bedding.

And if so be that thou my lady wynne,
And if it be that you my lady win

And sle me in this wode ther I am inne,
And slay me in this wood that now I'm in,

Thow mayst wel have thy lady as for me.
Then may you have your lady, for all of me.

This Palamon answerde, I graunte it thee.
This Palamon replied: I do agree.

And thus they been departed til amorwe,
And thus they parted till the morrow morn,

Whan ech of hem had leyd his feith to borwe.
When each had pledged his honour to return.

O Cupide, out of alle charitee!
O Cupido, that know'st not charity!

O regne, that wolt no felawe have with thee!
O despot, that no peer will have with thee!

Ful sooth is seyd that love ne lordshipe
Truly, 'tis said, that love, like all lordship,

Wol noght, hir thankes, have no felaweshipe.
Declines, with little thanks, a partnership.

Wel fynden that Arcite and Palamoun:
Well learned they that, Arcite and Palamon.

Arcite is riden anon unto the toun,
Arcita rode into the town anon,

And on the morwe, er it were dayes light,
And on the morrow, ere the dawn, he bore,

Ful prively two harneys hath he dight,
Secretly, arms and armour out of store,

Bothe suffisaunt and mete to darreyne
Enough for each, and proper to maintain

The bataille in the feeld bitwix hem tweyne.
A battle in the field between the twain.

And on his hors, allone as he was born,
So on his horse, alone as he was born,

He carieth al this harneys hym biforn,
He carried out that harness as he'd sworn;

And in the grove, at tyme and place yset,
And in the grove, at time and place they'd set,

This Arcite and this Palamon ben met.
Arcita and this Palamon were met.

Tho chaungen gan the colour in hir face
Each of the two changed colour in the face.

Right as the hunters in the regne of Trace,
For as the hunter in the realm of Thrace

That stondeth at the gappe with a spere,
Stands at the clearing with his ready spear,

Whan hunted is the leoun and the bere,
When hunted is the lion, or the bear,

And hereth hym come russhyng in the greves,
And through the forest hears him rushing fast,

And breketh bothe bowes and the leves,
Breaking the boughs and leaves, and thinks aghast.

And thynketh, Heere cometh my mortal enemy,
Here comes apace my mortal enemy!

Withoute faille he moot be deed or I,
Now, without fail, he must be slain, or I;

For outher I moot sleen hym at the gappe,
For either I must kill him ere he pass,

Or he moot sleen me, if that me myshappe-
Or he will make of me a dead carcass-

So ferden they in chaungyng of hir hewe,
So fared these men, in altering their hue,

As fer as everich of hem oother knewe.
So far as each the strength of other knew.

Ther nas no good day ne no saluyng,
There was no good-day given, no saluting,

But streight withouten word or rehersyng
But without word, rehearsal, or such thing,

Everich of hem heelp for to armen oother,
Each of them helping, so they armed each other

As freendly as he were his owene brother.
As dutifully as he were his own brother;

And after that with sharpe speres stronge
And afterward, with their sharp spears and strong,

They foynen ech at oother wonder longe.
They thrust each at the other wondrous long.

Thou myghtest wene that this Palamoun
You might have fancied that this Palamon,

In his fightyng were a wood leoun,
In battle, was a furious, mad lion,

And as a crueel tigre was Arcite.
And that Arcita was a tiger quite:

As wilde bores gonne they to smyte,
Like very boars the two began to smite,

That frothen white as foom for ire wood.
Like boars that froth for anger in the wood.

Up to the ancle foghte they in hir blood;
Up to the ankles fought they in their blood.

And in this wise I lete hem fightyng dwelle,
And leaving them thus fighting fast and fell,

And forth I wole of Theseus yow telle.
Forthwith of Theseus I now will tell.

The destinee, ministre general,
Great destiny, minister-general,

That executeth in the world overal
That executes in this world, and for all,

The purveiaunce that God hath seyn biforn,
The needs that God foresaw ere we were born,

So strong it is, that though the world had sworn
So strong it is that, though the world had sworn

The contrarie of a thyng, by ye or nay,
The contrary of a thing, by yea or nay,

Yet somtyme it shal fallen on a day
Yet sometime it shall fall upon a day,

That falleth nat eft withinne a thousand yeere.
Though not again within a thousand years.

For certeinly, oure appetites heere,
For certainly our wishes and our fears,

Be it of werre, or pees, or hate, or love,
Whether of war or peace, or hate or love,

Al is this reuled by the sighte above.
All, all are ruled by that Foresight above.

This mene I now by myghty Theseus,
This show I now by mighty Theseus,

That for to hunten is so desirus
Who to go hunting is so desirous,

And namely at the grete hert in May,
And specially of the hart of ten, in May,

That in his bed ther daweth hym no day
That, in his bed, there dawns for him no day

That he nys clad, and redy for to ryde
That he's not clothed and soon prepared to ride

With hunte and horn, and houndes hym bisyde.
With hound and horn and huntsman at his side.

For in his huntyng hath he swich delit
For in his hunting has he such delight,

That it is al his joye and appetit
That it is all his joy and appetite

To been hymself the grete hertes bane-
To be himself the great hart's deadly bane:

For after Mars he serveth now Dyane.
For after Mars, he serves Diana's reign.

Cleer was the day, as I have toold er this,
Clear was the day, as I have told ere this,

And Theseus, with alle joye and blis,
When Theseus, compact of joy and bliss,

With his Ypolita, the faire quene,
With his Hippolyta, the lovely queen,

And Emelye, clothed al in grene,
And fair Emilia, clothed all in green,

On huntyng be they riden roially,
A-hunting they went riding royally.

And to the grove, that stood ful faste by,
And to the grove of trees that grew hard by,

In which ther was an hert, as men hym tolde,
In which there was a hart, as men had told,

Duc Theseus the streighte wey hath holde,
Duke Theseus the shortest way did hold.

And to the launde he rideth hym ful right,
And to the glade he rode on, straight and right,

For thider was the hert wont have his flight,
For there the hart was wont to go in flight,

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

This duc wol han a cours at hym, or tweye,
This duke would have a course at him today,

With houndes swiche as that hym list comaunde.
With such hounds as it pleased him to command.

And whan this duc was come unto the launde,
And when this duke was come upon that land,

Under the sonne he looketh, and anon
Under the slanting sun he looked, anon,

He was war of Arcite and Palamon,
And there saw Arcita and Palamon,

That foughten breme, as it were bores two;
Who furiously fought, as two boars do;

The brighte swerdes wenten to and fro
The bright swords went in circles to and fro

So hidously, that with the leeste strook
So terribly, that even their least stroke

It semed as it wolde felle an ook;
Seemed powerful enough to fell an oak;

But what they were, nothyng he ne woot.
But who the two were, nothing did he note.

This duc his courser with his spores smoot,
This duke his courser with the sharp spurs smote,

And at a stert he was bitwix hem two,
And in one bound he was between the two,

And pulled out a swerd, and cride, Hoo!
And lugged his great sword out, and cried out: Ho!

Namoore, up peyne of lesynge of youre heed!
No more, I say, on pain of losing head!

By myghty Mars, he shal anon be deed
By mighty Mars, that one shall soon be dead

That smyteth any strook, that I may seen!
Who smites another stroke that I may see!

But telleth me what myster men ye been,
But tell me now what manner of men ye be

That been so hardy for to fighten heere
That are so hardy as to fight out here

Withouten juge or oother officere,
Without a judge or other officer,

As it were in a lystes roially?
As if you-rode in lists right royally?

This Palamon answerde hastily,
This Palamon replied, then, hastily,

And seyde, Sire, what nedeth wordes mo?
Saying: O Sire, what need for more ado?

We have the deeth disserved, bothe two.
We have deserved our death at hands of you.

Two woful wrecches been we, two caytyves,
Two woeful wretches are we, two captives

That been encombred of oure owene lyves,
That are encumbered by our own sad lives;

And as thou art a fightful lord and juge,
And as you are a righteous lord and judge,

Ne yeve us neither mercy ne refuge,
Give us not either mercy or refuge,

But sle me first for seinte charitee;
But slay me first, for sacred charity;

But sle my felawe eek as wel as me-
But slay my fellow here, as well, with me.

Or sle hym first, for, though thow knowest it lite,
Or slay him first; for though you learn it late,

This is thy mortal foo, this is Arcite,
This is your mortal foe, Arcita- wait!-

That fro thy lond is banysshed on his heed,
That from the land was banished, on his head.

For which he hath deserved to be deed.
And for the which he merits to be dead.

For this is he, that cam unto thy gate,
For this is he who came unto your gate,

And seyde that he highe Philostrate.
Calling himself Philostrates- nay, wait!-

Thus hath he japed thee ful many a yer,
Thus has he fooled you well this many a year,

And thou hast maked hym thy chief Squier,
And you have made him your chief squire, I hear:

And this is he that loveth Emelye.
And this is he that loves fair Emily.

For sith the day is come that I shal dye,
For since the day is come when I must die,

I make pleynly my confessioun
I make confession plainly and say on,

That I am thilke woful Palamoun,
That I am that same woeful Palamon

That hath thy prisoun broken wikkedly.
Who has your prison broken, viciously.

I am thy mortal foo, and it am I
I am your mortal foe, and it is I

That loveth so hoote Emelye the grighte,
Who love so hotly Emily the bright

That I wol dye present in hir sighte;
That I'll die gladly here within her sigh!

Wherfore I axe deeth and my juwise-
Therefore do I ask death as penalty,

But sle my felawe in the same wise
But slay my fellow with the same mercy,

For bothe han we deserved to be slayn.
For both of us deserve but to be slain.

This worthy duc answered anon agayn,
This worthy duke presently spoke again,

And seyde, This is a short conclusioun,
Saying: This judgment needs but a short session:

Youre owene mouth, by your confessioun,
Your own mouth, aye, and by your own confession,

Hath dampned yow, and I wol it recorde.
Has doomed and damned you, as I shall record.

It nedeth noght to pyne yow with the corde,
There is no need for torture, on my word.

Ye shal be deed, by myghty Mars the rede!
But you shall die, by mighty Mars the red!

The queene anon, for verray wommanhede,
But then the queen, whose heart for pity bled,

Gan for to wepe, and so dide Emelye,
Began to weep, and so did Emily

And alle the ladyes in the compaignye.
And all the ladies in the company.

Greet pitee was it, as it thoughte hem alle,
Great pity must it be, so thought they all,

That evere swich a chaunce sholde falle.
That ever such misfortune should befall:

For gentilmen they were of greet estaat,
For these were gentlemen, of great estate,

And no thyng but for love was this debaat,
And for no thing, save love, was their debate.

And saugh hir blody woundes wyde and soore,
They saw their bloody wounds, so sore and wide,

And alle crieden, both lasse and moore,
And all cried out- greater and less, they cried:

Have mercy, lord, upon us wommen alle!
Have mercy, lord, upon us women all!

And on hir bare knees adoun they falle,
And down upon their bare knees did they fall,

And wolde have kist his feet ther as he stood;
And would have kissed his feet there where he stood,

Til at the laste aslaked was his mood,
Till at the last assuaged was his high mood;

For pitee renneth soone in gentil herte.
For soon will pity flow through gentle heart.

And though he first for ire quook and sterte,
And though he first for ire did shake and start,

He hath considered shortly in a clause
He soon considered, to state the case in brief,

The trespas of hem bothe, and eek the cause,
What cause they had for fighting, what for grief;

And although that his ire hir gilt accused,
And though his anger still their guilt accused,

Yet in his resoun he hem bothe excused.
Yet in his reason he held them both excused;

As thus, he thoghte wel, that every man
In such wise: he thought well that every man

Wol helpe hym-self in love, if that he kan,
Will help himself in love, if he but can,

And eek delivere hym-self out of prisoun;
And will himself deliver from prison;

And eek his herte hadde compassioun
And, too, at heart he had compassion on

Of wommen, for they wepen evere in oon.
Those women, for they cried and wept as one,

And in his gentil herte he thoughte anon,
And in his gentle heart he thought anon,

And softe unto hym-self he seyde, Fy
And softly to himself he said then: Fie

Upon a lord that wol have no mercy,
Upon a lord that will have no mercy,

But been a leoun, bothe in word and dede,
But acts the lion, both in word and deed,

To hem that been in repentaunce and drede,
To those repentant and in fear and need,

As wel as to a proud despitous man,
As well as to the proud and pitiless man

That wol maynteyne that he first bigan!
That still would do the thing that he began!

That lord hath litel of discrecioun
That lord must surely in discretion lack

That in swich cas kan no divisioun,
Who, in such case, can no distinction make,

But weyeth pride and humblesse after oon.
But weighs both proud and humble in one scale.

And shortly, whan his ire is thus agoon,
And shortly, when his ire was thus grown pale,

He gan to looken up with eyen lighte,
He looked up to the sky, with eyes alight,

And spak thise same wordes al on highte:
And spoke these words, as he would promise plight:

The God of love, A! benedicite!
The god of love, ah benedicite!

How myghty and how greet a lord is he!
How mighty and how great a lord is he!

Ayeyns his myght ther gayneth none obstacles,
Against his might may stand no obstacles,

He may be cleped a god for hise myracles,
A true god is he by his miracles;

For he kan maken at his owene gyse
For he can manage, in his own sweet wise,

Of everich herte as that hym list divyse.
The heart of anyone as he devise.

Lo heere, this Arcite and this Palamoun
Lo, here, Arcita and this Palamon,

That quitly weren out of my prisoun,
That were delivered out of my prison,

And myghte han lyved in Thebes roially,
And might have lived in Thebes right royally,

And witen I am hir mortal enemy,
Knowing me for their mortal enemy,

And that hir deth lith in my myght also;
And also that their lives lay in my hand;

And yet hath love, maugree hir eyen two,
And yet their love has wiled them to this land,

Ybroght hem hyder bothe for to dye!
Against all sense, and brought them here to die!

Now looketh, is nat that an heigh folye?
Look you now, is not that a folly high?

Who may been a fole, but if he love?
Who can be called a fool, except he love?

Bihoold, for Goddes sake that sit above,
And see, for sake of God who sits above,

Se how they blede? Be they noght wel arrayed?
See how they bleed! Are they not well arrayed?

Thus hath hir lord, the God of Love, ypayed
Thus has their lord, the god of love, repaid

Hir wages and hir fees for hir servyse!
Their wages and their fees for their service!

And yet they wenen for to been ful wyse,
And yet they are supposed to be full wise

That serven love, for aught that may bifalle!
Who serve love well, whatever may befall!

But this is yet the beste game of alle,
But this is yet the best jest of them all,

That she, for whom they han this jolitee,
That she for whom they have this jollity

Kan hem therfore as muche thank, as me!
Can thank them for it quite as much as me;

She woot namoore of al this hoote fare,
She knows no more of all this fervent fare,

By God, than woot a cokkow or an hare!
By God! than knows a cuckoo or a hare.

But all moot ben assayed, hoot and coold;
But all must be essayed, both hot and cold,

A man moot ben a fool, or yong or oold;
A man must play the fool, when young or old;

I woot it by myself ful yore agon,
I know it of myself from years long gone:

For in my tyme a servant was I oon.
For of love's servants I've been numbered one.

And therfore, syn I knowe of loves peyne,
And therefore, since I know well all love's pain,

And woot how soore it kan a man distreyne,
And know how sorely it can man constrain,

As he that hath ben caught ofte in his laas,
As one that has been taken in the net,

I yow foryeve al hoolly this trespaas,
I will forgive your trespass, and forget,

At requeste of the queene that kneleth heere,
At instance of my sweet queen, kneeling here,

And eek of Emelye, my suster deere.
Aye, and of Emily, my sister dear.

And ye shul bothe anon unto me swere,
And you shall presently consent to swear

That nevere mo ye shal my contree dere,
That nevermore will you my power dare,

Ne make werre upon me, nyght ne day,
Nor wage war on me, either night or day,

But been my freendes in al that ye may,
But will be friends to me in all you may;

I yow foryeve this trespas, every deel.
I do forgive this trespass, full and fair.

And they hym sworen his axyng, faire and weel,
And then they swore what he demanded there,

And hym of lordship and of mercy preyde,
And, of his might, they of his mercy prayed,

And he hem graunteth grace, and thus he seyde:
And he extended grace, and thus he said:

To speke of roial lynage and richesse,
To speak for royalty's inheritress,

Though that she were a queene or a princesse,
Although she be a queen or a princess,

Ech of you bothe is worthy doutelees
Each of you both is worthy, I confess,

To wedden whan tyme is, but nathelees
When comes the time to wed: but nonetheless,

I speke as for my suster Emelye,
I speak now of my sister Emily,

For whom ye have this strif and jalousye:
The cause of all this strife and jealousy-

Ye woot yourself, she may nat wedden two
You know yourselves she may not marry two,

Atones, though ye fighten everemo!
At once, although you fight or what you do:

That oon of you, al be hym looth or lief,
One of you, then, and be he loath or lief,

He moot go pipen in an yvy-leef-
Must pipe his sorrows in an ivy leaf.

This is to seyn, she may nat now han bothe,
That is to say, she cannot have you both,

Al be ye never so jalouse, ne so wrothe.
However jealous one may be, or wroth.

And forthy, I yow putte in this degree;
Therefore I put you both in this decree,

That ech of yow shal have his destynee
That each of you shall learn his destiny

As hym is shape, and herkneth in what wyse;
As it is cast; and hear, now, in what wise

Lo, heere your ende of that I shal devyse.
The word of fate shall speak through my device.

My wyl is this, for plat conclusioun,
My will is this, to draw conclusion flat,

Withouten any repplicacioun,
Without reply, or plea, or caveat

If that you liketh, take it for the beste,
(In any case, accept it for the best),

That everich of you shal goon where hym leste,
That each of you shall follow his own quest,

Frely, withouten raunson, or daunger,
Free of all ransom or of fear from me;

And this day fifty wykes fer ne ner,
And this day, fifty weeks hence, both shall be

Everich of you shal brynge an hundred knyghtes
Here once again, each with a hundred knights,

Armed for lystes up at alle rightes,
Armed for the lists, who stoutly for your rights

Al redy to darreyne hire by bataille.
Will ready be to battle, to maintain

And this bihote I yow withouten faille,
Your claim to love. I promise you, again,

Upon my trouthe, and as I am a knyght,
Upon my word, and as I am a knight,

That wheither of yow bothe that hath myght,
That whichsoever of you wins the fight,

This is to seyn, that wheither he, or thow
That is to say, whichever of you two

May with his hundred, as I spak of now,
May with his hundred, whom I spoke of, do

Sleen his contrarie, or out of lystes dryve,
His foe to death, or out of boundary drive,

Thanne shal I yeve Emelya to wyve,
Then he shall have Emilia to wive

To whom that Fortune yeveth so fair a grace.
To whom Fortune gives so fair a grace.

Tho lystes shal I maken in this place,
The lists shall be erected in this place.

And God so wisly on my soule rewe,
And God so truly on my soul have ruth

As I shal evene juge been, and trewe.
As I shall prove an honest judge, in truth.

Ye shul noon oother ende with me maken,
You shall no other judgment in me waken

That oon of yow ne shal be deed or taken.
Than that the one shall die or else be taken.

And if yow thynketh this is weel ysayd,
And if you think the sentence is well said,

Seyeth youre avys and holdeth you apayd;
Speak your opinion, that you're well repaid.

This is youre ende and youre conclusioun.
This is the end, and I conclude hereon.

Who looketh lightly now but Palamoun?
Who looks up lightly now but Palamon?

Who spryngeth up for joye but Arcite?
Who leaps for you but Arcita the knight?

Who kouthe tellen, or who kouthe endite
And who could tell, or who could ever write

The joye that is maked in the place,
The jubilation made within that place

Whan Theseus hath doon so fair a grace?
Where Theseus has shown so fair a grace?

But doun on knees wente every maner wight,
But down on knee went each one for delight

And thonken hym with al hir herte and myght,
And thanked him there with all his heart and might,

And namely the Thebans, often sithe.
And specially those Thebans did their part.

And thus with good hope and with herte blithe
And thus, with high hopes, being blithe of heart,

They taken hir leve, and homward gonne they ride
They took their leave; and homeward did they ride

To Thebes with hise olde walles wyde.
To Thebes that sits within her old walls wide.

Explicit secunda pars
Explicit secunda pars.

Sequitur pars tercia
Sequitur pars tercia.

I trowe men wolde deme it necligence,
I think that men would deem it negligence

If I foryete to tellen the dispence
If I forgot to tell of the expense

Of Theseus, that gooth so bisily
Of Theseus, who went so busily

To maken up the lystes roially;
To work upon the lists, right royally;

That swich a noble theatre as it was,
For such an amphitheatre he made,

I dar wel seyen, in this world ther nas.
Its equal never yet on earth was laid.

The circuit a myle was aboute,
The circuit, rising, hemmed a mile about,

Walled of stoon, and dyched al withoute.
Walled all of stone and moated deep without.

Round was the shap, in manere of compas,
Round was the shape as compass ever traces,

Ful of degrees the heighte os sixty pas,
And built in tiers, the height of sixty paces,

That whan a man was set on o degree,
That those who sat in one tier, or degree,

He lette nat his felawe for to see.
Should hinder not the folk behind to see.

Estward ther stood a gate of marbul whit,
Eastward there stood a gate of marble white.

Westward, right swich another in the opposit;
And westward such another, opposite.

And shortly to concluden, swich a place
In brief, no place on earth, and so sublime,

Was noon in erthe, as in so litel space.
Was ever made in so small space of time;

For in the lond ther was no crafty man
For in the land there was no craftsman quick

That geometrie or ars-metrik kan,
At plane geometry or arithmetic,

Ne portreitour, ne kervere of ymages,
No painter and no sculptor of hard stone,

That Theseus ne yaf him mete and wages
But Theseus pressed meat and wage upon

The theatre for to maken and devyse.
To build that amphitheatre and devise.

And for to doon his ryte and sacrifise
And to observe all rites and sacrifice,

He estward hath upon the gate above,
Over the eastern gate, and high above,

In worship of Venus, goddesse of love,
For worship of Queen Venus, god of love,

Doon make an auter and an oratorie.
He built an altar and an oratory;

And on the gate westward, in memorie
And westward, being mindful of the glory

Of Mars, he maked hath right swich another,
Of Mars, he straightway builded such another

That coste largely of gold a fother.
As cost a deal of gold and many a bother.

And northward, in a touret on the wal
And northward, in a turret on the wall,

Of alabastre whit, and reed coral,
Of alabaster white and red coral,

An oratorie, riche for to see,
An oratory splendid as could be,

In worship of Dyane, of chastitee,
In honour of Diana's chastity,

Hath Theseus doon wroght in noble wyse.
Duke Theseus wrought out in noble wise.

But yet hadde I foryeten to devyse
But yet have forgot to advertise

The noble kervyng and the portreitures,
The noble carvings and the portraitures,

The shap, the contenaunce, and the figures,
The shapes, the countenances, the figures

That weren in thise oratories thre.
That all were in these oratories three.

First in the temple of Venus maystow se
First, in the fane of Venus, one might see,

Wroght on the wal, ful pitous to biholde,
Wrought on the wall, and piteous to behold,

The broken slepes and the sikes colde,
The broken slumbers and the sighing cold,

The sacred teeris and the waymentynge,
The sacred tears and the lamenting dire,

The firy strokes, and the desirynge
The fiery throbbing of the strong desire,

That loves servauntz in this lyf enduren;
That all love's servants in this life endure;

The othes that her covenantz assuren;
The vows that all their promises assure;

Plesaunce and Hope, Desir, Foolhardynesse,
Pleasure and hope, desire, foolhardiness,

Beautee and Youthe, Bauderie, Richesse,
Beauty, youth, bawdiness, and riches, yes,

Charmes and Force, Lesynges, Flaterye,
Charms, and all force, and lies, and flattery,

Despense, Bisynesse, and Jalousye,
Expense, and labour; aye, and Jealousy

That wered of yelewe gooldes a gerland,
That wore of marigolds a great garland

And a cokkow sittynge on hir hand;
And had a cuckoo sitting on her hand;

Festes, instrumentz, caroles, daunces,
Carols and instruments and feasts and dances,

Lust and array, and alle the circumstaunces
Lust and array, and all the circumstances

Of love, whiche that I rekned, and rekne shal,
Of love that I may reckon or ever shall,

By ordre weren peynted on the wal,
In order they were painted on the wall,

And mo than I kan make of mencioun;
Aye, and more, too, than I have ever known.

For soothly, al the mount of Citheroun,
For truly, all the Mount of Citheron,

Ther Venus hath hir principal dwellynge,
Where Venus has her chief and favoured dwelling,

Was shewed on the wal in portreyynge,
Was painted on that wall, beyond my telling,

With al the gardyn and the lustynesse.
With all the gardens in their loveliness.

Nat was foryeten the Porter Ydelnesse,
Nor was forgot the gate-guard Idleness,

Ne Narcisus the faire, of yore agon,
Nor fair Narcissus of the years long gone,

Ne yet the folye of kyng Salamon,
Nor yet the folly of King Solomon,

And eek the grete strengthe of Ercules,
No, nor the giant strength of Hercules,

Thenchauntementz of Medea and Circes,
Nor Circe's and Medea's sorceries,

Ne of Turnus, with the hardy fiers corage,
Nor Turnus with his hardy, fierce courage,

The riche Cresus, kaytyf in servage;
Nor the rich Croesus, captive in his age.

Thus may ye seen, that wysdom ne richesse,
Thus may be seen that wisdom, nor largess,

Beautee ne sleighte, strengthe, hardynesse,
Beauty, nor skill, nor strength, nor hardiness,

Ne may with Venus holde champartie,
May with Queen Venus share authority;

For as hir list, the world than may she gye.
For as she wills, so must the whole world be.

Lo, alle thise folk so caught were in hir las,
Lo, all these folk were so caught in her snare

Til they for wo ful ofte seyde `allas!'
They cried aloud in sorrow and in care.

Suffiseth heere ensamples oon or two-
Here let suffice examples one or two,

And, though, I koude rekene a thousand mo.
Though I might give a thousand more to you.

The statue of Venus, glorious for to se,
The form of Venus, glorious as could be,

Was naked, fletynge in the large see,
Was naked, floating on the open sea,

And fro the navele doun al covered was
And from the navel down all covered was

With wawes grene, and brighte as any glas.
With green waves, bright as ever any glass.

A citole in hir right hand hadde she,
A citole in her small right hand had she,

And on hir heed, ful semely for to se,
And on her head, and beautiful to see,

A rose gerland, fressh and wel smellynge;
A garland of red roses, sweet smelling,

Above hir heed hir dowves flikerynge.
Above her swirled her white doves, fluttering.

Biforn hir stood hir sone, Cupido,
Before her stood her one son, Cupido,

Upon his shuldres wynges hadde he two,
Whose two white wings upon his shoulders grow;

And blynd he was, as it was often seene.
And blind he was, as it is often seen;

A bowe he bar, and arwes brighte and kene.
A bow he bore, and arrows bright and keen.

Why sholde I noght as wel eek telle yow al
Why should I not as well, now, tell you all

The portreiture, that was upon the wal
The portraiture that was upon the wall

Withinne the temple of myghty Mars the rede?
Within the fane of mighty Mars the red?

Al peynted was the wal in lengthe and brede
In length and breadth the whole wall was painted

Lyk to the estres of the grisly place
Like the interior of that grisly place,

That highte the grete temple of Mars in Trace,
The mighty temple of great Mars in Thrace,

In thilke colde frosty regioun
In that same cold and frosty region where

Ther as Mars hath his sovereyn mansioun.
Mars to his supreme mansion may repair.

First on the wal was peynted a forest
First, on the wall was limned a vast forest

In which ther dwelleth neither man ne best,
Wherein there dwelt no man nor any beast,

With knotty knarry bareyne trees olde,
With knotted, gnarled, and leafless trees, so old

Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde,
The sharpened stumps were dreadful to behold;

In which ther ran a rumbel and a swough
Through which there ran a rumbling, even now,

As though a storm sholde bresten every bough.
As if a storm were breaking every bough;

And dounward from an hille, under a bente,
And down a hill, beneath a sharp descent,

Ther stood the temple of Mars Armypotente,
The temple stood of Mars armipotent,

Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entree
Wrought all of burnished steel, whereof the gate

Was long and streit, and gastly for to see,
Was grim like death to see, and long, and strait.

And therout came a rage and suche a veze,
And therefrom raged a wind that seemed to shake

That it made al the gate for to rese.
The very ground, and made the great doors quake.

The northren lyght in at the dores shoon,
The northern light in at those same doors shone,

For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noon,
For window in that massive wall was none

Thurgh which men myghten any light discerne.
Through which a man might any light discern.

The dore was al of adamant eterne,
The doors were all of adamant eterne,

Yclenched overthwart and endelong
Rivetted on both sides, and all along,

With iren tough, and for to make it strong
With toughest iron; and to make it strong,

Every pyler, the temple to sustene,
Each pillar that sustained this temple grim

Was tonne-greet of iren bright and shene.
Was thick as tun, of iron bright and trim.

Ther saugh I first the dirke ymaginyng
There saw I first the dark imagining

Of felonye, and al the compassyng,
Of felony, and all the compassing;

The crueel ire, reed as any gleede,
And cruel anger, red as burning coal;

The pykepurs, and eek the pale drede,
Pickpurses, and the dread that eats the soul;

The smyler with the knyfe under the cloke,
The smiling villain, hiding knife in cloak;

The shepne brennynge with the blake smoke,
The farm barns burning, and the thick black smoke;

The tresoun of the mordrynge in the bedde,
The treachery of murder done in bed;

The open werre, with woundes al bibledde,
The open battle, with the wounds that bled;

Contek, with blody knyf and sharp manace,
Contest, with bloody knife and sharp menace;

Al ful of chirkyng was that sory place.
And loud with creaking was that dismal place.

The sleer of hymself yet saugh I ther,
The slayer of himself, too, saw I there,

His herte-blood hath bathed al his heer;
His very heart's blood matted in his hair;

The nayl ydryven in the shode a nyght,
The nail that's driven in the skull by night;

The colde deeth, with mouth gapyng upright.
The cold plague-corpse, with gaping mouth upright

Amyddes of the temple sat Meschaunce,
In middle of the temple sat Mischance,

With Disconfort and Sory Contenaunce.
With gloomy, grimly woeful countenance.

Yet saugh I Woodnesse laughynge in his rage,
And saw I Madness laughing in his rage;

Armed Compleint, Outhees, and fiers Outrage;
Armed risings, and outcries, and fierce outrage;

The careyne in the busk with throte ycorve,
The carrion in the bush, with throat wide carved;

A thousand slayn, and nat of qualm ystorve,
A thousand slain, nor one by plague, nor starved.

The tiraunt with the pray by force yraft,
The tyrant, with the spoils of violent theft;

The toun destroyed, ther was nothyng laft.
The town destroyed, in ruins, nothing left.

Yet saugh I brent the shippes hoppesteres,
And saw I burnt the ships that dance by phares,

The hunte strangled with the wilde beres,
The hunter strangled by the fierce wild bears;

The sowe freten the child right in the cradel,
The sow chewing the child right in the cradle;

The cook yscalded, for al his longe ladel.
The cook well scalded, spite of his long ladle.

Noght was foryeten by the infortune of Marte,
Nothing was lacking of Mars' evil part:

The cartere over-ryden with his carte,
The carter over-driven by his cart,

Under the wheel ful lowe he lay adoun.
Under a wheel he lay low in the dust.

Ther were also, of Martes divisioun,
There were likewise in Mars' house, as needs must,

The barbour, and the bocher, and the smyth
The surgeon, and the butcher, and the smith

That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his styth.
Who forges sharp swords and great ills therewith.

And al above, depeynted in a tour,
And over all, depicted in a tower,

Saugh I Conquest sittynge in greet honour,
Sat Conquest, high in honour and in power,

With the sharpe swerd over his heed
Yet with a sharp sword hanging o'er his head

Hangynge by a soutil twyned threed.
But by the tenuous twisting of a thread.

Depeynted was the slaughtre of Julius,
Depicted was the death of Julius,

Of grete Nero, and of Antonius;
Of Nero great, and of Antonius;

Al be that thilke tyme they were unborn,
And though at that same time they were unborn,

Yet was hir deth depeynted therbiforn
There were their deaths depicted to adorn

By manasynge of Mars, right by figure;
The menacing of Mars, in likeness sure;

So was it shewed in that portreiture,
Things were so shown, in all that portraiture,

As is depeynted in the sterres above
As are fore-shown among the stars above,

Who shal be slayn or elles deed for love.
Who shall be slain in war or dead for love.

Suggiseth oon ensample in stories olde,
Suffice one instance from old plenitude,

I may nat rekene hem alle though I wolde.
I could not tell them all, even if I would.

The statue of Mars upon a carte stood
Mars' image stood upon a chariot,

Armed, and looked grym as he were wood,
Armed, and so grim that mad he seemed, God wot;

And over his heed ther shynen two figures
And o'er his head two constellations shone

Of sterres, that been cleped in scriptures
Of stars that have been named in writings known.

That oon Puella, that oother Rubeus.
One being Puella, and one Rubeus.

This god of armes was arrayed thus:
This god of armies was companioned thus:

A wolf ther stood biforn hym at his feet,
A wolf there was before him, at his feet,

With eyen rede, and of a man he eet.
Red-eyed, and of a dead man he did eat.

With soutil pencel was depeynt this storie,
A cunning pencil there had limned this story

In redoutynge of Mars and of his glorie.
In reverence of Mars and of his glory.

Now to the temple of Dyane the chaste
Now to the temple of Diana chaste,

As shortly as I kan I wol me haste,
As briefly as I can, I'll pass in haste,

To telle yow al the descripsioun.
To lay before you its description well.

Depeynted been the walles up and doun
In pictures, up and down, the wall could tell

Of huntyng and of shamefast chastitee.
Of hunting and of modest chastity.

Ther saugh I, how woful Calistopee
There saw I how Callisto fared when she

Whan that Diane agreved was with here,
(Diana being much aggrieved with her)

Was turned from a womman til a bere,
Was changed from woman into a she-bear,

And after was she maad the loode-sterre;-
And after, made into the lone Pole Star;

Thus was it peynted, I kan sey yow no ferre-
There was it; I can't tell how such things are.

Hir sone is eek a sterre, as men may see.
Her son, too, is a star, as men may see.

Ther saugh I Dane, yturned til a tree,
There saw I Daphne turned into a tree

I mene nat the goddesse Diane,
(I do not mean Diana, no, but she,

But Penneus doughter which that highte Dane.
Peneus' daughter, who was called Daphne)

Ther saugh I Attheon an hert ymaked,
I saw Actaeon made a hart all rude

For vengeaunce that he saugh Diane al naked.
For punishment of seeing Diana nude;

I saugh how that hise houndes have hym caught
I saw, too, how his fifty hounds had caught

And freeten hym, for that they knewe hym naught.
And him were eating, since they knew him not.

Yet peynted was a litel forthermoor
And painted farther on, I saw before

How Atthalante hunted the wilde boor,
How Atalanta hunted the wild boar;

And Meleagree, and many another mo,
And Meleager, and many another there,

For which Dyane wroghte hym care and wo.
For which Diana wrought him woe and care.

Ther saugh I many another wonder storie,
There saw I many another wondrous tale

The whiche me list nat drawen to memorie.
From which I will not now draw memory's veil.

This goddesse on an hert ful hye seet,
This goddess on an antlered hart was set,

With smale houndes al aboute hir feet;
With little hounds about her feet, and yet

And undernethe hir feet she hadde a moone,
Beneath her perfect feet there was a moon,

Wexynge it was, and sholde wanye soone.
Waxing it was, but it should wane full soon.

In gaude grene hir statue clothed was,
In robes of yellowish green her statue was,

With bowe in honde, and arwes in a cas.
She'd bow in hand and arrows in a case.

Hir eyen caste she ful lowe adoun,
Her eyes were downcast, looking at the ground.

Ther Pluto hath his derke regioun.
Where Pluto in his dark realm may be found.

A womman travaillynge was hir biforn;
Before her was a woman travailing,

But for hir child so longe was unborn
Who was so long in giving birth, poor thing,

Ful pitously Lucyna gan she calle,
That pitifully Lucina did she call,

And seyde, Help, for thou mayst best of alle!
Praying, Oh help, for thou may'st best of all!

Wel koude he peynten lyfly, that it wroghte,
Well could he paint, who had this picture wrought,

With many a floryn he the hewes boghte.
With many a florin he'd his colours bought,

Now been thise listes maad, and Theseus,
But now the lists were done, and Theseus,

That at his grete cost arrayed thus
Who at so great cost had appointed thus

The temples, and the theatre every deel,
The temples and the circus, as I tell,

Whan it was doon, hym lyked wonder weel.-
When all was done, he liked it wondrous well.

But stynte I wole of Theseus a lite,
But hold I will from Theseus, and on

And speke of Palamon and of Arcite.
To speak of Arcita and Palamon.

The day approcheth of hir retournynge,
The day of their return is forthcoming,

That everich sholde an hundred knyghtes brynge
When each of them a hundred knights must bring

The bataille to darreyne, as I yow tolde.
The combat to support, as I have told;

And til Atthenes, hir covenantz for to holde,
And into Athens, covenant to uphold,

Hath everich of hem broght an hundred knyghtes,
Has each one ridden with his hundred knights,

Wel armed for the werre at alle rightes.
Well armed for war, at all points, in their mights.

And sikerly, ther trowed many a man,
And certainly, 'twas thought by many a man

That nevere sithen that the world bigan,
That never, since the day this world began,

As for to speke of knyghthod of hir hond,
Speaking of good knights hardy of their hands,

As fer as God hath maked see or lond,
Wherever God created seas and lands,

Nas of so fewe so noble a compaignye.
Was, of so few, so noble company.

For every wight that lovede chivalrye,
For every man that loved all chivalry,

And wolde, his thankes, han a passant name,
And eager was to win surpassing fame,

Hath preyed that he myghte been of that game;
Had prayed to play a part in that great game;

And wel was hym that therto chosen was.
And all was well with him who chosen was.

For if ther fille tomorwe swich a cas
For if there came tomorrow such a case,

Ye knowen wel, that every lusty knyght
You know right well that every lusty knight

That loveth paramours, and hath his myght,
Who loves the ladies fair and keeps his might,

Were it in Engelond or elles where,
Be it in England, aye or otherwhere,

They wolde, hir thankes, wilnen to be there,
Would wish of all things to be present there

To fighte for a lady, benedicitee!
To fight for some fair lady. Ben'cite!

It were a lusty sighte for to see.
'Twould be a pleasant goodly sight to see!

And right so ferden they with Palamon,
And so it was with those with Palamon.

With hym ther wenten knyghtes many on.
With him there rode of good knights many a one;

Som wol ben armed in an haubergeoun,
Some would be armoured in a habergeon

In a bristplate, and in a light gypoun,
And in a breastplate, under light jupon;

And somme woln have a paire plates large,
And some wore breast-and back-plates thick and large;

And somme woln have a Pruce sheeld, or a targe,
And some would have a Prussian shield, or targe;

Somme woln ben armed on hir legges weel,
Some on their very legs were armoured well,

And have an ax, and somme a mace of steel.
And carried axe, and some a mace of steel.

Ther is no newe gyse, that it nas old;
There is no new thing, now, that is not old.

Armed were they, as I have yow told,
And so they all were armed, as I have told,

Everych after his opinioun.
To his own liking and design, each one.

Ther maistow seen comyng with Palamoun
There might you see, riding with Palamon,

Lygurge hym-self, the grete kyng of Trace.
Lycurgus' self, the mighty king of Thrace;

Blak was his berd, and manly was his face,
Black was his beard and manly was his face.

The cercles of hise eyen in his heed,
The eyeballs in the sockets of his head,

They gloweden bitwyxen yelow and reed,
They glowed between a yellow and a red.

And lik a griff on looked he aboute,
And like a griffon glared he round about

With kempe heeris on hise browes stoute,
From under bushy eyebrows thick and stout.

Hise lymes grete, hise brawnes harde and stronge,
His limbs were large, his muscles hard and strong.

Hise shuldres brode, hise armes rounde and longe;
His shoulders broad, his arms both big and long,

And as the gyse was in his contree,
And, as the fashion was in his country,

Ful hye upon a chaar of gold stood he,
High in a chariot of gold stood he,

With foure white boles in the trays.
With four white bulls in traces, to progress.

In stede of cote-armure, over his harnays
Instead of coat-of-arms above harness,

With nayles yelewe and brighte as any gold
With yellow claws preserved and bright as gold,

He hadde a beres skyn, colblak, for-old;
He wore a bear-skin, black and very old.

His longe heer was kembd bihynde his bak,
His long combed hair was hanging down his back,

As any ravenes fethere it shoon for-blak.
As any raven's feather it was black:

A wrethe of gold arm-greet, of huge wighte,
A wreath of gold, arm-thick, of heavy weight,

Upon his heed, set ful of stones brighte,
Was on his head, and set with jewels great,

Of fyne rubyes and of dyamauntz.
Of rubies fine and perfect diamonds.

Aboute his chaar ther wenten white alauntz,
About his car there circled huge white hounds,

Twenty and mo, as grete as any steer,
Twenty or more, as large as any steer,

To hunten at the leoun or the deer,
To hunt the lion or the antlered deer;

And folwed hym, with mosel faste ybounde,
And so they followed him, with muzzles bound,

Colored of gold, and tourettes fyled rounde.
Wearing gold collars with smooth rings and round.

An hundred lordes hadde he in his route,
A hundred lords came riding in his rout,

Armed ful wel, with hertes stierne and stoute.
All armed at point, with hearts both stern and stout

With Arcita, in stories as men fynde,
With Arcita, in tales men call to mind,

The grete Emetreus, the kyng of Inde,
The great Emetreus, a king of Ind,

Upon a steede bay, trapped in steel,
Upon a bay steed harnessed all in steel,

Covered in clooth of gold dyapred weel,
Covered with cloth of gold, all diapered well,

Cam ridynge lyk the god of armes, Mars.
Came riding like the god of arms, great Mars.

His cote-armure was of clooth of Tars,
His coat-of-arms was cloth of the Tartars,

Couched with perles white and rounde and grete.
Begemmed with pearls, all white and round and great.

His sadel was of brend gold newe ybete;
Of beaten gold his saddle, burnished late;

A mantelet upon his shuldre hangynge
A mantle from his shoulders hung, the thing

Bret-ful of rubyes rede, as fyr sparklynge.
Close-set with rubies red, like fire blazing.

His crispe heer lyk rynges was yronne,
His crisp hair all in bright ringlets was run,

And that was yelow, and glytered as the sonne.
Yellow as gold and gleaming as the sun.

His nose was heigh, hise eyen bright citryn,
His nose was high, his eyes a bright citrine,

Hise lippes rounde, his colour was sangwyn;
His lips were full, his colouring sanguine.

A fewe frakenes in his face yspreynd,
And a few freckles on his face were seen,

Bitwixen yelow and somdel blak ymeynd,
None either black or yellow, but the mean;

And as a leoun he his looking caste.
And like a lion he his glances cast.

Of fyve and twenty yeer his age I caste;
Not more than five-and-twenty years he'd past.

His berd was wel bigonne for to sprynge,
His beard was well beginning, now, to spring;

His voys was as a trompe thonderynge.
His voice was as a trumpet thundering.

Upon his heed he wered of laurer grene
Upon his brows he wore, of laurel green,

A gerland, fressh and lusty for to sene.
A garland, fresh and pleasing to be seen.

Upon his hand he bar for his deduyt
Upon his wrist he bore, for his delight,

An egle tame, as any lilye whyt.
An eagle tame, as any lily white.

An hundred lordes hadde he with hym there,
A hundred lords came riding with him there,

Al armed, save hir heddes, in al hir gere,
All armed, except their heads, in all their gear,

Ful richely in alle maner thynges.
And wealthily appointed in all things.

For trusteth wel, that dukes, erles, kynges,
For, trust me well, that dukes and earls and kings

Were gadered in this noble compaignye,
Were gathered in this noble company

For love, and for encrees of chivalrye.
For love and for increase of chivalry.

Aboute this kyng ther ran on every part
About this king there ran, on every side,

Ful many a tame leoun and leopard,
Many tame lions and leopards in their pride.

And in this wise thise lordes alle and some
And in such wise these mighty lords, in sum,

Been on the sonday to the citee come,
Were, of a Sunday, to the city come

Aboute pryme, and in the toun alight.
About the prime, and in the town did light.

This Theseus, this duc, this worthy knyght,
This Theseus, this duke, this noble knight,

Whan he had broght hem into his citee,
When he'd conducted them to his city,

And inned hem, everich in his degree,
And quartered them, according to degree,

He festeth hem, and dooth so greet labour
He feasted them, and was at so much pains

To esen hem and doon hem al honour,
To give them ease and honour, of his gains,

That yet men weneth that no maner wit
That men yet hold that never human wit,

Of noon estaat ne koude amenden it.
Of high or low estate, could better it.

The mynstralcye, the service at the feeste,
The minstrelsy, the service at the feast,

The grete yiftes to the mooste and leeste,
The great gifts to the highest and the least,

The riche array of Theseus paleys,
The furnishings of Theseus, rich palace,

Ne who sat first ne last upon the deys,
Who highest sat or lowest on the dais,

What ladyes fairest been, or best daunsynge,
What ladies fairest were or best dandling,

Or which of hem kan dauncen best and synge,
Or which of them could dance the best, or sing,

Ne who moost felyngly speketh of love,
Or who could speak most feelingly of love,

What haukes sitten on the perche above,
Or what hawks sat upon the perch above,

What houndes liggen in the floor adoun-
Or what great hounds were lying on the floor-

Of al this make I now no mencioun;
Of all these I will make no mention more;

But, al theffect, that thynketh me the beste,
But tell my tale, for that, I think, is best;

Now cometh the point, and herkneth if yow leste.
Now comes the point, and listen if you've zest.

The sonday nyght, er day bigan to sprynge,
That Sunday night, ere day began to spring,

Whan Palamon the lsrke herde synge,
When Palamon the earliest lark heard sing,

Al though it nere nat day by houres two,
Although it lacked two hours of being day,

Yet song the larke, and Palamon also.
Yet the lark sang, and Palamon sang a lay.

With hooly herte and with an heigh corage
With pious heart and with a high courage

He roos, to wenden on his pilgrymage,
He rose, to go upon a pilgrimage

Unto the blisful Citherea benigne,
Unto the blessed Cytherea's shrine

I mene Venus, honurable and digne.
(I mean Queen Venus, worthy and benign).

And in hir houre he walketh forth a pas
And at her hour he then walked forth apace

Unto the lystes, ther hire temple was,
Out to the lists wherein her temple was,

And doun he kneleth, with ful humble cheer,
And down he knelt in manner to revere,

And herte soor, and seyde in this manere.
And from a full heart spoke as you shall hear.

Faireste of faire, O lady myn, Venus,
Fairest of fair, O lady mine, Venus,

Doughter to Jove, and spouse of Vulcanus,
Daughter of Jove and spouse to Vulcanus,

Thow glader of the Mount of Citheron,
Thou gladdener of the Mount of Citheron,

For thilke love thow haddest to Adoon,
By that great love thou borest to Adon,

Have pitee of my bittre teeris smerte,
Have pity on my bitter tears that smart

And taak myn humble preyere at thyn herte.
And hear my humble prayer within thy heart.

Allas, I ne have no langage to telle
Alas! I have no words in which to tell

Theffectes, ne the tormentz of myn helle!
The effect of all the torments of my hell;

Myn herte may myne harmes nat biwreye,
My heavy heart its evils can't bewray;

I am so confus that I kan noght seye.
I'm so confused I can find naught to say.

But mercy, lady bright! that knowest weele
But mercy, lady bright, that knowest well

My thought, and seest what harmes that I feele.
My heart, and seest all the ills I feel,

Considere al this, and rewe upon my soore,
Consider and have ruth upon my sore

As wisly, as I shal for everemoore,
As truly as I shall, for evermore,

Emforth my myght, thy trewe servant be,
Well as I may, thy one true servant be,

And holden werre alwey with chastitee.
And wage a war henceforth on chastity.

That make I myn avow, so ye me helpe.
If thou wilt help, thus do I make my vow,

I kepe noght of armes for to yelpe,
To boast of knightly skill I care not now,

Ne I ne axe nat tomorwe to have victorie,
Nor do I ask tomorrow's victory,

Ne renoun in this cas, ne veyne glorie
Nor any such renown, nor vain glory

Of pris of armes blowen up and doun,
Of prize of arms, blown before lord and churl,

But I wolde have fully possessioun
But I would have possession of one girl,

Of Emelye, and dye in thy servyse.
Of Emily, and die in thy service;

Fynd thow the manere how, and in what wyse-
Find thou the manner how, and in what wise.

I recche nat, but it may bettre be
For I care not, unless it better be,

To have victorie of hem, or they of me-
Whether I vanquish them or they do me,

So that I have my lady in myne armes.
So I may have my lady in my arms.

For though so be, that Mars is god of armes,
For though Mars is the god of war's alarms,

Youre vertu is so greet in hevene above
Thy power is so great in Heaven above,

That if yow list, I shal wel have my love.
That, if it be thy will, I'll have my love.

Thy temple wol I worshipe everemo,
In thy fane will I worship always, so

And on thyn auter, where I ride or go,
That on thine altar, where'er I ride or go,

I wol doon sacrifice and fires beete.
I will lay sacrifice and thy fires feed.

And if ye wol nat so, my lady sweete,
And if thou wilt not so, O lady, cede,

Thanne preye I thee, tomorwe with a spere
I pray thee, that tomorrow, with a spear,

That Arcita me thurgh the herte bere.
Arcita bear me through the heart, just here.

Thanne rekke I noght, whan I have lost my lyf,
For I'll care naught, when I have lost my life,

Though that Arcita wynne hir to his wyf.
That Arcita may win her for his wife.

This is theffect and ende of my preyere,
This the effect and end of all my prayer,

Yif me my love, thow blisful lady deere!
Give me my love, thou blissful lady fair.

Whan the orison was doon of Palamon,
Now when he'd finished all the orison,

His sacrifice he dide, and that anon,
His sacrifice he made, this Palamon,

Ful pitously with alle circumstaunce;
Right piously, with all the circumstance,

Al telle I noght as now his observaunce.
Albeit I tell not now his observance.

But atte laste, the statue of Venus shook,
But at the last the form of Venus shook

And made a signe wherby that he took
And gave a sign, and thereupon he took

That his preyere accepted was that day.
This as acceptance of his prayer that day.

For thogh the signe shewed a delay,
For though the augury showed some delay,

Yet wiste he wel that graunted was his boone,
Yet he knew well that granted was his boon;

And with glad herte he wente hym hoom ful soone.
And with glad heart he got him home right soon.

The thridde houre inequal, that Palamon
Three hours unequal after Palamon

Bigan to Venus temple for to gon,
To Venus' temple at the lists had gone,

Up roos the sonne, and up roos Emelye,
Up rose the sun and up rose Emily,

And to the temple of Dyane gan hye.
And to Diana's temple did she hie.

Hir maydens that she thider with hir ladde,
Her maidens led she thither, and with them

Ful redily with hem the fyr they ladde,
They carefully took fire and each emblem,

Thencens, the clothes, and the remenant al
And incense, robes, and the remainder all

That to the sacrifice longen shal.
Of things for sacrifice ceremonial.

The hornes fulle of meeth, as was the gyse,
There was not one thing lacking; I'll but add

Ther lakked noght to doon hir sacrifise,
The horns of mead, as was a way they had.

Smokynge the temple, ful of clothes faire.
In smoking temple, full of draperies fair,

This Emelye, with herte debonaire,
This Emily with young heart debonnaire,

Hir body wessh with water of a welle-
Her body washed in water from a well;

But how she dide hir ryte I dar nat telle,
But how she did the rite I dare not tell,

But it be any thing in general;
Except it be at large, in general;

And yet it were a game to heeren al,
And yet it was a thing worth hearing all;

To hym that meneth wel it were no charge,
When one's well meaning, there is no transgression;

But it is good a man been at his large.-
But it is best to speak at one's discretion.

Hir brighte heer was kempt untressed al,
Her bright hair was unbound, but combed withal;

A coroune of a grene ook cerial
She wore of green oak leaves a coronal

Upon hir heed was set, ful fair and meete.
Upon her lovely head. Then she began

Two fyres on the suter gan she beete,
Two fires upon the altar stone to fan,

And dide hir thynges as men may biholde
And did her ceremonies as we're told

In Stace of Thebes, and thise bookes olde.
In Statius' Thebaid and books as old.

Whan kyndled was the fyr, with pitous cheere
When kindled was the fire, with sober face

Unto Dyane she spak as ye may heere.
Unto Diana spoke she in that place.

O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene,
O thou chaste goddess of the wildwood green,

To whom bothe hevene and erthe and see is sene,
By whom all heaven and earth and sea are seen,

Queene of the regne of Pluto derk and lowe,
Queen of the realm of Pluto, dark and low,

Goddesse of maydens, that myn herte hast knowe
Goddess of maidens, that my heart dost know

Ful many a yeer, and woost what I desire,
For all my years, and knowest what I desire,

As keep me fro thy vengeaunce and thyn ire,
Oh, save me from thy vengeance and thine ire

That Attheon aboughte cruelly.
That on Actaeon fell so cruelly.

Chaste goddesse, wel wostow that I
Chaste goddess, well indeed thou knowest that I

Desire to ben a mayden al my lyf,
Desire to be a virgin all my life,

Ne nevere wol I be no love ne wyf.
Nor ever wish to be man's love or wife.

I am, thow woost, yet of thy compaignye,
I am, thou know'st, yet of thy company,

A mayde, and love huntynge and venerye,
A maid, who loves the hunt and venery,

And for to walken in the wodes wilde,
And to go rambling in the greenwood wild,

And noght to ben a wyf, and be with childe.
And not to be a wife and be with child.

Noght wol I knowe the compaignye of man;
I do not crave the company of man.

Now helpe me, lady, sith ye may and kan,
Now help me, lady, since thou may'st and can,

For tho thre formes that thou hast in thee.
By the three beings who are one in thee.

And Palamon, that hath swich love to me,
For Palamon, who bears such love to me,

And eek Arcite, that loveth me so sore,
And for Arcita, loving me so sore,

This grace I preye thee, withoute moore,
This grace I pray thee, without one thing more,

As sende love and pees bitwixe hem two,
To send down love and peace between those two,

And fro me turne awey hir hertes so,
And turn their hearts away from me: so do

That al hir hoote love and hir desir,
That all their furious love and their desire,

And al hir bisy torment and hir fir,
And all their ceaseless torment and their fire

Be queynt, or turned in another place.
Be quenched or turned into another place;

And if so be thou wolt do me no grace,
And if it be thou wilt not show this grace,

And if my destynee be shapen so
Or if my destiny be moulded so

That I shal nedes have oon of hem two,
That I must needs have one of these same two,

As sende me hym that moost desireth me.
Then send me him that most desires me.

Bihoold, goddesse, of clene chastitee,
Behold, O goddess of utter chastity,

The bittre teeris that on my chekes falle.
The bitter tears that down my two cheeks fall.

Syn thou art mayde and kepere of us alle,
Since thou art maid and keeper of us all,

My maydenhede thou kepe and wel conserve,
My maidenhead keep thou, and still preserve,

And whil I lyve a mayde, I wol thee serve.
And while I live a maid, thee will I serve.

The fires brenne upon the auter cleere,
The fires blazed high upon the altar there,

Whil Emelye was thus in hir preyere;
While Emily was saying thus her prayer,

But sodeynly she saugh a sighte queynte,
But suddenly she saw a sight most quaint,

For right anon oon of the fyres queynte,
For there, before her eyes, one fire went faint,

And quyked agayn, and after that anon
Then blazed again; and after that, anon,

That oother fyr was queynt and al agon.
The other fire was quenched, and so was gone.

And as it queynte, it made a whistelynge
And as it died it made a whistling sound,

As doon thise wete brondes in hir brennynge;
As do wet branches burning on the ground,

And at the brondes ende out ran anon
And from the brands' ends there ran out, anon,

As it were blody dropes many oon;
What looked like drops of blood, and many a one;

For which so soore agast was Emelye
At which so much aghast was Emily

That she was wel ny mad, and gan to crye;
That she was near dazed, and began to cry,

For she ne wiste what it signyfied.
For she knew naught of what it signified;

But oonly for the feere thus hath she cried,
But only out of terror thus she cried

And weep that it was pitee for to heere;
And wept, till it was pitiful to hear.

And therwithal Dyane gan appeere,
But thereupon Diana did appear,

With bowe in honde, right as an hunteresse,
With bow in hand, like any right huntress,

And seyde, Doghter, stynt thyn hevynesse.
And said: My daughter, leave this heaviness.

Among the goddes hye it is affermed,
Among the high gods it has been affirmed,

And by eterne word writen and confermed,
And by eternal written word confirmed,

Thou shalt ben wedded unto oon of tho
That you shall be the wife of one of those

That han for thee so muchel care and wo.
Who bear for you so many cares and woes;

But unto which of hem I may nat telle,
But unto which of them may not tell.

Farwel, for I ne may no lenger dwelle.
I can no longer tarry, so farewell.

The fires whiche that on myn auter brenne
The fires that on my altar burn incense

Shule thee declaren, er that thou go henne,
Should tell you everything, ere you go hence,

Thyn aventure of love, as in this cas.
Of what must come of love in this your case.

And with that word, the arwes in the caas
And with that word the arrows of the chase

Of the goddesse clateren faste and rynge,
The goddess carried clattered and did ring,

And forth she wente, and made a vanysshynge,
And forth she went in mystic vanishing;

For which this Emelye astoned was,
At which this Emily astonished was,

And seyde, What amounteth this, allas!
And said she then: Ah, what means this, alas!

I putte me in thy proteccioun,
I put myself in thy protection here,

Dyane, and in thy disposicioun!
Diana, and at thy disposal dear.

And hoom she goth anon the nexte weye.
And home she wended, then, the nearest way.

This is theffect, ther is namoore to seye.
This is the purport; there's no more to say.

The nexte houre of Mars folwynge this
At the next hour of Mars, and following this,

Arcite unto the temple walked is
Arcita to the temple walked, that is

Of fierse Mars, to doon his sacrifise
Devoted to fierce Mars, to sacrifice

With alle the rytes of his payen wyse.
With all the ceremonies, pagan-wise.

With pitous herte and heigh devocioun
With sobered heart and high devotion, on

Right thus to Mars he seyde his orisoun.
This wise, right thus he said his orison.

O stronge god, that in the regnes colde
O mighty god that in the regions cold

Of Trace honoured art and lord yholde,
Of Thrace art honoured, where thy lordships hold,

And hast in every regne and every lond
And hast in every realm and every land

Of armes al the brydel in thyn hond,
The reins of battle in thy guiding hand,

And hem fortunest as thee lyst devyse,
And givest fortune as thou dost devise,

Accepte of me my pitous sacrifise.
Accept of me my pious sacrifice.

If so be that my youthe may deserve,
If so it be that my youth may deserve,

And that my myght be worthy for to serve
And that my strength be worthy found to serve

Thy godhede, that I may been oon of thyne,
Thy godhead, and be numbered one of thine,

Thanne preye I thee to rewe upon my pyne.
Then pray I thee for ruth on pain that's mine.

For thilke peyne, and thilke hoote fir,
For that same pain and even that hot fire

In which thou whilom brendest for desir
Wherein thou once did'st burn with deep desire,

Whan that thow usedest the greet beautee
When thou did'st use the marvelous beauty

Of faire yonge fresshe Venus free,
Of fair young wanton Venus, fresh and free,

And haddest hir in armes at thy wille-
And had'st her in thine arms and at thy will

Al though thee ones on a tyme mysfille
(Howbeit with thee, once, all the chance fell ill,

Whan Vulcanus hadde caught thee in his las,
And Vulcan caught thee in his net, whenas

And foond thee liggynge by his wyf, allas!-
He found thee lying with his wife, alas!)-

For thilke sorwe that was in thyn herte
For that same sorrow that was in thy heart,

Have routhe as wel, upon my peynes smerte!
Have pity, now, upon my pains that smart.

I am yong and unkonnynge as thow woost,
I'm young, and little skilled, as knowest thou,

And, as I trowe, with love offended moost
With love more hurt and much more broken now

That evere was any lyves creature;
Than ever living creature was, I'm sure;

For she that dooth me al this wo endure,
For she who makes me all this woe endure,

Ne reccheth nevere wher I synke or fleete.
Whether I float or sink cares not at all,

And wel I woot, er she me mercy heete,
And ere she'll hear with mercy when I call,

I moot with strengthe wynne hir in the place.
I must by prowess win her in this place;

And wel I woot, withouten help or grace
And well I know, too, without help and grace

Of thee, ne may my strengthe noght availle.
Of thee, my human strength shall not avail

Thanne help me, lord, tomorwe in my bataille
Then help me, lord, tomorrow not to fail,

For thilke fyr that whilom brente thee,
For sake of that same fire that once burned thee,

As wel as thilke fyr now brenneth me!
The which consuming fire so now burns me;

And do that I tomorwe have victorie,
And grant, tomorrow, I have victory.

Myn be the travaille and thyn be the glorie.
Mine be the toil, and thine the whole glory!

Thy sovereyn temple wol I moost honouren
Thy sovereign temple will I honour most

Of any place, and alwey moost labouren
Of any spot, and toil and count no cost

In thy plesaunce, and in thy craftes stronge,
To pleasure thee and in thy craft have grace,

And in thy temple I wol my baner honge,
And in thy fane my banner will I place,

And alle the armes of my compaignye;
And all the weapons of my company;

And evere-mo, unto that day I dye,
And evermore, until the day I die,

Eterne fir I wol biforn thee fynde.
Eternal fire shalt thou before thee find.

And eek to this avow I wol me bynde;
Moreover, to this vow myself I bind:

My beerd, myn heer, that hongeth long adoun,
My beard, my hair that ripples down so long,

That nevere yet ne felte offensioun
That never yet has felt the slightest wrong

Of rasour, nor of shere, I wol thee yeve,
Of razor or of shears, to thee I'll give,

And ben thy trewe servant whil I lyve.
And be thy loyal servant while I live.

Now lord, have routhe upon my sorwes soore;
Now, lord, have pity on my sorrows sore;

Yif me the victorie, I aske thee namoore!
Give me the victory. I ask no more.

The preyere stynt of Arcita the stronge;
With ended prayer of Arcita the young,

The rynges on the temple dore that honge,
The rings that on the temple door were hung,

And eek the dores clatereden ful faste,
And even the doors themselves, rattled so fast

Of which Arcita somwhat hym agaste.
That this Arcita found himself aghast.

The fyres brenden upon the auter brighte,
The fires blazed high upon the altar bright,

That it gan al the temple for to lighte,
Until the entire temple shone with light;

And sweete smel the ground anon upyaf,
And a sweet odour rose up from the ground;

And Arcita anon his hand uphaf,
And Arcita whirled then his arm around,

And moore encens into the fyr he caste,
And yet more incense on the fire he cast,

With othere rytes mo, and atte laste
And did still further rites; and at the last

The statue of Mars bigan his hauberk rynge,
The armour of God Mars began to ring,

And with that soun he herde a murmurynge,
And with that sound there came a murmuring,

Ful lowe and dym, and seyde thus, `Victorie!'
Low and uncertain, saying: Victory!

For which he yaf to Mars honour and glorie;
For which he gave Mars honour and glory.

And thus with joye and hope wel to fare,
And thus in joy and hope, which all might dare,

Arcite anon unto his in is fare,
Arcita to his lodging then did fare,

As fayn as fowel is of the brighte sonne.
Fain of the fight as fowl is of the sun.

And right anon swich strif ther is bigonne
But thereupon such quarrelling was begun,

For thilke grauntyng in the hevene above
From this same granting, in the heaven above,

Bitwixe Venus, the Goddesse of Love,
'Twixt lovely Venus, goddess of all love,

And Mars the stierne God armypotente,
And Mars, the iron god armipotent,

That Jupiter was bisy it to stente;
That Jove toiled hard to make a settlement;

Til that the pale Saturnus the colde,
Until the sallow Saturn, calm and cold,

That knew so manye of aventures olde,
Who had so many happenings known of old,

Foond in his olde experience an art
Found from his full experience the art

That he ful soone hath plesed every part.
To satisfy each party and each part.

As sooth is seyd, elde hath greet avantage;
For true it is, age has great advantage;

In elde is bothe wysdom and usage;
Experience and wisdom come with age;

Men may the olde atrenne, and noght atrede.
Men may the old out-run, but not out-wit.

Saturne anon, to stynten strif and drede,
Thus Saturn, though it scarcely did befit

Al be it that it is agayn his kynde,
His nature so to do, devised a plan

Of al this strif he gan remedie fynde.
To quiet all the strife, and thus began:

My deere doghter Venus, quod Saturne,
Now my dear daughter Venus, quoth Saturn,

My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne,
My course, which has so wide a way to turn,

Hath moore power than woot any man.
Has power more than any man may know.

Myn is the drenchyng in the see so wan,
Mine is the drowning in sea below;

Myn is the prison in the derke cote,
Mine is the dungeon underneath the moat;

Myn is the stranglyng and hangyng by the throte,
Mine is the hanging and strangling by the throat;

The murmure, and the cherles rebellyng,
Rebellion, and the base crowd's murmuring,

The groynynge, and the pryvee empoysonyng.
The groaning and the private poisoning,

I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun,
And vengeance and amercement- all are mine,

Whil I dwelle in the signe of the leoun.
While yet I dwell within the Lion's sign.

Myn is the ruyne of the hye halles,
Mine is the ruining of all high halls,

The fallynge of the toures and of the walles
And tumbling down of towers and of walls

Upon the mynour, or the carpenter.
Upon the miner and the carpenter.

I slow Sampsoun shakynge the piler,
I struck down Samson, that pillar shaker;

And myne be the maladyes colde,
And mine are all the maladies so cold,

The derke tresons, and the castes olde;
The treasons dark, the machinations old;

My lookyng is the fader of pestilence.
My glance is father of all pestilence.

Now weep namoore, I shal doon diligence
Now weep no more. I'll see, with diligence,

That Palamon, that is thyn owene knyght,
That Palamon, who is your own true knight,

Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight.
Shall have his lady, as you hold is right.

Though Mars shal helpe his knyght, yet nathelees
Though Mars may help his man, yet none the less

Bitwixe yow ther moot be somtyme pees,
Between you two there must come sometime peace,

Al be ye noght of o compleccioun-
And though you be not of one temperament,

That causeth al day swich divisioun.
Causing each day such violent dissent,

I am thyn aiel, redy at thy wille,
I am your grandsire and obey your will;

Weep now namoore, I wol thy lust fulfille.
Weep then no more, your pleasure I'll fulfill.

Now wol I stynten of the goddes above,
Now will I cease to speak of gods above,

Of Mars and of Venus, goddesse of Love,
Of Mars and Venus, goddess of all love,

And telle yow, as pleynly as I kan,
And tell you now, as plainly as I can,

The grete effect for which that I bygan.
The great result, for which I first began.

Explicit tercia pars.
Explicit tercia pars.

Sequitur pars quarta.
Sequitur pars quarta.

Greet was the feeste in Atthenes that day,
Great was the fete in Athens on that day,

And eek the lusty seson of that May
And too, the merry season of the May

Made every wight to been in such plesaunce
Gave everyone such joy and such pleasance

That al that Monday justen they and daunce,
That all that Monday they'd but joust and dance,

And spenten it in Venus heigh servyse.
Or spend the time in Venus' high service.

And by the cause that they sholde ryse
But for the reason that they must arise

Eerly for to seen the grete fight,
Betimes, to see the heralded great fight,

Unto hir rest wenten they at nyght.
All they retired to early rest that night.

And on the morwe, whan that day gan sprynge,
And on the morrow, when that day did spring,

Of hors and harneys, noyse and claterynge
Of horse and harness, noise and clattering,

Ther was in hostelryes al aboute.
There was enough in hostelries about.

And to the paleys rood ther many a route
And to the palace rode full many a rout

Of lordes, upon steedes and palfreys.
Of lords, bestriding steeds and on palfreys.

Ther maystow seen divisynge of harneys
There could you see adjusting of harness,

So unkouth and so riche, and wroght so weel,
So curious and so rich, and wrought so well

Of goldsmythrye, of browdynge, and of steel;
Of goldsmiths' work, embroidery, and of steel;

The sheeldes brighte, testeres, and trappures;
The shields, the helmets bright, the gay trappings,

Gold-hewen helmes, hauberkes, cote-armures;
The gold-hewn casques, the coats-of-arms, the rings,

Lordes in parementz on hir courseres,
The lords in vestments rich, on their coursers,

Knyghtes of retenue and eek squieres,
Knights with their retinues and also squires;

Nailynge the speres, and helmes bokelynge,
The rivetting of spears, the helm-buckling,

Giggynge of sheeldes, with layneres lacynge.
The strapping of the shields, and. thong-lacing-

There as nede is, they weren nothyng ydel.
In their great need, not one of them was idle;

The fomy steedes on the golden brydel
The frothing steeds, champing the golden bridle,

Gnawynge, and faste the armurers also
And the quick smiths, and armourers also,

With fyle and hamer prikynge to and fro;
With file and hammer spurring to and fro;

Yemen on foote and communes many oon,
Yeoman, and peasants with short staves were out,

With shorte staves thikke as they may goon,
Crowding as thick as they could move about;

Pypes, trompes, nakerers, clariounes,
Pipes, trumpets, kettledrums, and clarions,

That in the bataille blowen blody sounes;
That in the battle sound such grim summons;

The paleys ful of peples up and doun,
The palace full of people, up and down,

Heere thre, ther ten, holdynge hir questioun,
Here three, there ten, debating the renown

Dyvynynge of thise Thebane knyghtes two.
And questioning about these Theban knights,

Somme seyden thus, somme seyde it shal be so,
Some put it thus, some said, It's so by rights.

Somme helden with hym with the blake berd,
Some held with him who had the great black beard,

Somme with the balled, somme with the thikke-herd,
Some with the bald-heads, some with the thick haired;

Somme seyde he looked grymme, and he wolde fighte,
Some said, He looks grim, and he'll fight like hate;

He hath a sparth of twenty pound of wighte,
He has an axe of twenty pound in weight.

Thus was the halle ful of divynynge
And thus the hall was full of gossiping

Longe after that the sonne gan to sprynge.
Long after the bright sun began to spring.

The grete Theseus, that of his sleep awaked
The mighty Theseus, from sleep awakened

With mynstralcie and noyse that was maked,
By songs and all the noise that never slackened,

Heeld yet the chambre of his paleys riche,
Kept yet the chamber of this rich palace,

Til that the Thebane knyghtes, bothe yliche
Till the two Theban knights, with equal grace

Honured, were into the paleys fet.
And honour, were ushered in with flourish fitting.

Due Theseus was at a wyndow set,
Duke Theseus was at a window sitting,

Arrayed, right as he were a god in trone.
Arrayed as he were god upon a throne.

The peple preesseth thiderward ful soone,
Then pressed the people thitherward full soon,

Hym for to seen and doon heigh reverence.
To see him and to do him reverence,

And eek to herkne his heste and his sentence.
Aye, and to hear commands of sapience.

An heraud on a scaffold made an Oo!
A herald on a scaffold cried out Ho!

Til al the noyse of peple was ydo,
Till all the people's noise was stilled; and so,

And whan he saugh the peple of noyse al stille,
When he observed that all were fallen still,

Tho shewed he the myghty dukes wille.
He then proclaimed the mighty ruler's will.

The lord hath of his heigh discrecioun
The duke our lord, full wise and full discreet,

Considered, that it were destruccioun
Holds that it were but wanton waste to meet

To gentil blood, to fighten in the gyse
And fight, these gentle folk, all in the guise

Of mortal bataille, now in this emprise;
Of mortal battle in this enterprise.

Wherfore, to shapen that they shal nat dye,
Wherefore, in order that no man may die,

He wolde his firste purpos modifye.
He does his earlier purpose modify.

No man therfore, up peyne of los of lyf,
No man, therefore, on pain of loss of life,

No maner shot, ne polax, ne short knyf
Shall any arrow, pole-axe, or short knife

Into the lystes sende, ne thider brynge.
Send into lists in any wise, or bring;

Ne short swerd for to stoke, with poynt bitynge,
Nor any shortened sword, for point-thrusting,

No man ne drawe, ne bere by his syde;
Shall a man draw, or bear it by his side.

Ne no man shal unto his felawe ryde
Nor shall knight against opponent ride,

But o cours, with a sharpe ygrounde spere.
Save one full course, with any sharp-ground spear;

Foyne if hym list on foote, hym-self to were;
Unhorsed, a man may thrust with any gear.

And he that is at meschief shal be take,
And he that's overcome, should this occur,

And noght slayn, but be broght unto the stake
Shall not be slain, but brought to barrier,

That shal ben ordeyned on either syde,
Whereof there shall be one on either side;

But thider he shal by force, and there abyde.
Let him be forced to go there and abide.

And if so be the chevetayn be take
And if by chance the leader there must go,

On outher syde, or elles sleen his make,
Of either side, or slay his equal foe,

No lenger shal the turneiynge laste.
No longer, then, shall tourneying endure.

God spede you, gooth forth, and ley on faste!
God speed you; go forth now, and lay on sure.

With long swerd and with maces fight youre fille;
With long sword and with maces fight your fill.

Gooth now youre wey, this is the lordes wille.
Go now your ways; this is the lord duke's will.

The voys of peple touchede the hevene,
The voices of the people rent the skies,

So loude cride they with murie stevene,
Such was the uproar of their merry cries:

God save swich a lord, that is so good
Now God save such a lord, who is so good

He wilneth no destruccion of blood.
He will not have destruction of men's blood!

Up goon the trompes and the melodye,
Up start the trumpets and make melody.

And to the lystes rit the compaignye,
And to the lists rode forth the company,

By ordinance, thurgh-out the citee large
In marshalled ranks, throughout the city large,

Hanged with clooth of gold, and nat with sarge.
All hung with cloth of gold, and not with serge.

Ful lik a lord this noble duc gan ryde,
Full like a lord this noble duke did ride,

Thise two Thebanes upon either syde,
With the two Theban knights on either side;

And after rood the queene and Emelye,
And, following, rode the queen and Emily,

And after that another compaignye,
And, after, came another company

Of oon and oother, after hir degre;
Of one and other, each in his degree.

And thus they passen thurgh-out the citee
And thus they went throughout the whole city,

And to the lystes come they by tyme.
And to the lists they came, all in good time.

It nas nat of the day yet fully pryme
The day was not yet fully come to prime

Whan set was Theseus ful riche and hye,
When throned was Theseus full rich and high,

Ypolita the queene, and Emelye,
And Queen Hippolyta and Emily,

And othere ladys in degrees aboute.
While other ladies sat in tiers about.

Unto the seettes preesseth al the route,
Into the seats then pressed the lesser rout.

And westward thurgh the gates under Marte,
And westward, through the gate of Mars, right hearty,

Arcite, and eek the hondred of his parte,
Arcita and the hundred of his party

With baner reed is entred right anon.
With banner red is entering anon;

And in that selve moment Palamon
And in that self-same moment, Palamon

Is under Venus estward in the place,
Is under Venus, eastward in that place,

With baner whyt, and hardy chiere and face.
With banner white, and resolute of face.

In al the world to seken up and doun
In all the world, searching it up and down,

So evene withouten variacioun
So equal were they all, from heel to crown,

Ther nere swiche compaignyes tweye!
There were no two such bands in any way.

For ther was noon so wys, that koude seye
For there was no man wise enough to say

That any hadde of oother avauntage,
How either had of other advantage

Of worthynesse ne of estaat ne age,
In high repute, or in estate, or age,

So evene were they chosen, for to gesse.
So even were they chosen, as I guess.

And in two renges faire they hem dresse,
And in two goodly ranks, they did then dress.

Whan that hir names rad were everichon,
And when the name was called of every one,

That in hir nombre gyle were ther noon.
That cheating in their number might be none,

Tho were the gates shet and cried was loude,
Then were the gates closed, and the cry rang loud:

Do now youre devoir, yonge knyghtes proude!
Now do your devoir, all you young knights proud!

The heraudes lefte hir prikyng up and doun;
The heralds cease their spurring up and down;

Now ryngen trompes loude and clarioun.
Now ring the trumpets as the charge is blown;

Ther is namoore to seyn, but west and est
And there's no more to say, for east and west

In goon the speres ful sadly in arrest,
Two hundred spears are firmly laid in rest;

In gooth the sharpe spore into the syde.
And the sharp spurs are thrust, now, into side.

Ther seen men who kan juste, and who kan ryde,
Now see men who can joust and who can ride!

Ther shyveren shaftes upon sheeldes thikke;
Now shivered are the shafts on bucklers thick;

He feeleth thurgh the herte-spoon the prikke.
One feels through very breast-bone the spear's prick;

Up spryngen speres twenty foot on highte;
Lances are flung full twenty feet in height;

Out gooth the swerdes as the silver brighte.
Out flash the swords like silver burnished bright.

The helmes they tohewen and toshrede,
Helmets are hewed, the lacings ripped and shred;

Out brest the blood, with stierne stremes rede,
Out bursts the blood, gushing in stern streams red.

With myghty maces the bones they tobreste.
With mighty maces bones are crushed in joust.

He thurgh the thikkeste of the throng gan threste;
One through the thickest throng begins to thrust.

Ther stomblen steedes stronge, and doun gooth al;
There strong steeds stumble now, and down goes all.

He rolleth under foot as dooth a bal,
One rolls beneath their feet as rolls a ball.

He foyneth on his feet with his tronchoun,
One flails about with club, being overthrown,

And he hym hurtleth with his hors adoun.
Another, on a mailed horse, rides him down.

He thurgh the body is hurt and sithen ytake,
One through the body's hurt, and haled, for aid.

Maugree his heed, and broght unto the stake,
Spite of his struggles, to the barricade,

As forward was, right there he moste abyde;
As compact was, and there he must abide;

Another lad is on that oother syde.
Another's captured by the other side.

And som tyme dooth hem Theseus to reste,
At times Duke Theseus orders them to rest,

Hem to refresshe, and drynken if hem leste.
To eat a bite and drink what each likes best.

Ful ofte a day han thise Thebanes two
And many times that day those Thebans two

Togydre ymet, and wroght his felawe wo.
Met in the fight and wrought each other woe;

Unhorsed hath ech oother of hem tweye,
Unhorsed each has the other on that day.

Ther nas no tygre in the vlae of Galgopheye
No tigress in the vale of Galgophey,

Whan that hir whelp is stole, whan it is lite,
Whose little whelp is stolen in the light,

So crueel on the hunte, as is Arcite
Is cruel to the hunter as Arcite

For jelous herte upon this Palamoun;
For jealousy is cruel to Palamon;

Ne in Belmarye ther nys so fel leoun
Nor in Belmarie, when the hunt is on

That hunted is, or for his hunger wood,
Is there a lion, wild for want of food,

Ne of his praye desireth so the blood,
That of his prey desires so much the blood

As Palamoun to sleen his foo Arcite.
As Palamon the death of Arcite there.

The jelous strokes on hir helmes byte,
Their jealous blows fall on their helmets fair;

Out renneth blood on bothe hir sydes rede.
Out leaps the blood and makes their two sides red.

Som tyme an ende ther is of every dede;
But sometime comes the end of every deed;

For er the sonne unto the reste wente,
And ere the sun had sunk to rest in gold,

The stronge kyng Emetreus gan hente
The mighty King Emetreus did hold

This Palamon, as he faught with Arcite,
This Palamon, as he fought with Arcite,

And made his swerd depe in his flessh to byte.
And made his sword deep in the flesh to bite;

And by the force of twenty is he take
And by the force of twenty men he's made,

Unyolden, and ydrawe unto the stake.
Unyielded, to withdraw to barricade.

And in the rescous of this Palamoun
And, trying hard to rescue Palamon,

The stronge kyng Lygurge is born adoun,
The mighty King Lyburgus is borne down;

And kyng Emetreus, for al his strengthe,
And King Emetreus, for all his strength,

Is born out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe,
Is hurled out of the saddle a sword's length,

So hitte him Palamoun er he were take;
So hits out Palamon once more, or ere

But al for noght, he was broght to the stake.
(But all for naught) he's brought to barrier.

His hardy herte myghte hym helpe naught,
His hardy heart may now avail him naught;

He moste abyde, whan that he was caught,
He must abide there now, being fairly caught

By force, and eek by composicioun.
By force of arms, as by provision known.

Who sorweth now but woful Palamoun,
Who sorrows now but woeful Palamon,

That moot namoore goon agayn to fighte?
Who may no more advance into the fight?

And whan that Theseus hadde seyn this sighte
And when Duke Theseus had seen this sight,

Unto the folk that foghten thus echon
Unto the warriors fighting, every one,

He cryde, Hoo! namoore, for it is doon.
He cried out: Hold! No more! For it is done!

I wol be trewe juge, and no partie;
Now will I prove true judge, of no party.

Arcite of Thebes shal have Emelie,
Theban Arcita shall have Emily,

That by his fortune hath hir faire ywonne!
Who, by his fortune, has her fairly won.

Anon ther is a noyse of peple bigonne
And now a noise of people is begun

For joye of this so loude and heighe withalle
For joy of this, so loud and shrill withal,

It semed that the lystes sholde falle.
It seems as if the very lists will fall.

What kan now faire Venus doon above?
But now, what can fair Venus do above?

What seith she now, what dooth this queene of Love,
What says she now? What does this queen of love

But wepeth so, for wantynge of hir wille,
But weep so fast, for thwarting of her will,

Til that hir teeres in the lystes fille.
Her tears upon the lists begin to spill.

She seyde, I am ashamed, doutelees.
She said: Now am I shamed and over-flung.

Saturnus seyde, Doghter, hoold thy pees,
But Saturn said: My daughter, hold your tongue.

Mars hath his wille, his knyght hath al his boone,
Mars has his will, his knight has all his boon,

And, by myn heed, thow shalt been esed soone.
And, by my head, you shall be eased, and soon.

The trompes with the loude mynstralcie,
The trumpeters and other minstrelsy,

The heraudes that ful loude yolle and crie,
The heralds that did loudly yell and cry,

Been in hir wele for joye of Daun Arcite.
Were at their best for joy of Arcita.

But herkneth me, and stynteth now a lite,
But hear me further while I tell you- ah!-

Which a myracle ther bifel anon.
The miracle that happened there anon.

This fierse Arcite hath of his helm ydon,
This fierce Arcita doffs his helmet soon,

And on a courser for to shewe his face
And mounted on a horse, to show his face,

He priketh endelong the large place,
He spurs from end to end of that great place,

Lokynge upward upon this Emelye,
Looking aloft to gaze on Emily;

And she agayn hym caste a freendlich eye,
And she cast down on him a friendly eye

(For wommen, as to speken in commune,
(For women, generally speaking, go

They folwen al the favour of Fortune)
Wherever Fortune may her favor show)

And she was al his chiere, as in his herte.
And she was fair to see, and held his heart.

Out of the ground a furie infernal sterte,
But from the ground infernal furies start,

From Pluto sent, at requeste of Saturne,
From Pluto sent, at instance of Saturn,

For which his hors for fere gan to turne,
Whereat his horse, for fear, began to turn

And leep aside and foundred as he leep.
And leap aside, all suddenly falling there;

And er that Arcite may taken keep,
And Arcita before he could beware

He pighte hym on the pomel of his heed,
Was pitched upon the ground, upon his head,

That in the place he lay as he were deed,
And lay there, moving not, as he were dead,

His brest tobrosten with his sadel-bowe.
His chest crushed in upon the saddle-bow.

As blak he lay as any cole or crowe,
And black he lay as ever coal, or crow,

So was the blood yronnen in his face.
So ran the surging blood into his face.

Anon he was yborn out of the place,
Anon they carried him from out that place,

With herte soor, to Theseus paleys.
With heavy hearts, to Theseus' palace.

Tho was he korven out of his harneys,
There was his harness cut away, each lace,

And in a bed ybrought ful faire and blyve,
And swiftly was he laid upon a bed,

For he was yet in memorie and alyve,
For he was yet alive and some words said,

And alwey criynge after Emelye.
Crying and calling after Emily.

Duc Theseus, with al hes compaignye,
Duke Theseus, with all his company,

Is comen hoom to Atthenes his citee,
Is come again to Athens, his city,

With alle blisse and greet solempnitee;
With joyous heart and great festivity.

Al be it that this aventure was falle,
And though sore grieved for this unhappy fall,

He nolde noght disconforten hem alle.
He would not cast a blight upon them all.

Men seyde eek that Arcite shal nat dye,
Men said, too, that Arcita should not die,

He shal been heeled of his maladye.
But should be healed of all his injury.

And of another thyng they weren as fayn,
And of another thing they were right fain,

That of hem alle was ther noon yslayn,
Which was, that of them all no one was slain,

Al were they soore yhurt, and namely oon,
Though each was sore, and hurt, and specially one

That with a spere was thirled his brest-boon.
Who'd got a lance-head thrust through his breastbone.

To othere woundes, and to broken armes,
For other bruises, wounds and broken arms,

Somme hadden salves, and somme hadden charmes,
Some of them carried salves and some had charms;

Fermacies of herbes and eek save
And medicines of many herbs, and sage

They dronken, for they wolde hir lymes have.
They drank, to keep their limbs from hemorrhage.

For which this noble duc as he wel kan,
In all of which this duke, as he well can,

Conforteth and honoureth every man,
Now comforts and now honours every man,

And made revel al the longe nyght
And makes a revelry the livelong night

Unto the straunge lordes, as was right.
For all these foreign lords, as was but right.

Ne ther was holden no disconfitynge
Nor was there held any discomfiting,

But as a justes or a tourneiynge,
Save from the jousts and from the tourneying.

For soothly ther was no disconfiture-
For truly, there had been no cause for shame,

For fallyng nys nat but an aventure-
Since being thrown is fortune of the game;

Ne to be lad by force unto the stake
Nor is it, to be led to barrier,

Unyolden, and with twenty knyghtes take,
Unyielded, and by twenty knights' power,

O persone allone, withouten mo,
One man alone, surrounded by the foe,

And haryed forth by arme, foot, and too,
Driven by arms, and dragged out, heel and toe,

And eke his steede dryven forth with staves,
And with his courser driven forth with staves

With footmen, bothe yemen and eek knaves,
Of men on foot, yeomen and serving knaves-

It nas aretted hym no vileynye,
All this imputes to one no kind of vice,

Ther may no man clepen it cowardye.
And no man may bring charge of cowardice.

For which anon duc Theseus leet crye,
For which, anon, Duke Theseus bade cry,

To stynten alle rancour and envye,
To still all rancour and all keen envy,

The gree, as wel of o syde as of oother,
The worth, as well of one side as the other,

And eyther syde ylik as ootheres brother,
As equal both, and each the other's brother;

And yaf hem yiftes after hir degree,
And gave them gifts according to degree,

And fully heeld a feeste dayes three,
And held a three days' feast, right royally;

And convoyed the kynges worthily
And then convoyed these kings upon their road

Out of his toun a journee, largely;
For one full day, and to them honour showed.

And hoom wente every man, the righte way,
And home went every man on his right way.

Ther was namoore but `fare-wel, have good day.'
There was naught more but Farewell and Good-day.

Of this bataille I wol namoore endite,
I'll say no more of war, but turn upon

But speke of Palamoun and of Arcite.
My tale of Arcita and Palamon.

Swelleth the brest of Arcite, and the soore
Swells now Arcita's breast until the sore

Encreesseth at his herte moore and moore.
Increases near his heart yet more and more.

The clothered blood for any lechecraft
The clotted blood, in spite of all leech-craft,

Corrupteth, and is in his bouk ylaft,
Rots in his bulk, and there is must be left,

That neither veyne-blood, ne ventusynge,
Since no device of skillful blood-letting,

Ne drynke of herbes may ben his helpynge.
Nor drink of herbs, can help him in this thing.

The vertu expulsif, or animal,
The power expulsive, or virtue animal

Fro thilke vertu cleped natural
Called from its use the virtue natural,

Ne may the venym voyden, ne expelle.
Could not the poison void, nor yet expel.

The pipes of his longes gonne to swelle,
The tubes of both his lungs began to swell,

And every lacerte in his brest adoun
And every tissue in his breast, and down,

Is shent with venym and corrupcioun.
Is foul with poison and all rotten grown.

Hym gayneth neither for to gete his lif
He gains in neither, in his strife to live,

Vomyt upward, ne dounward laxatif;
By vomiting or taking laxative;

Al is tobrosten thilke regioun,
All is so broken in that part of him,

Nature hath now no dominacioun.
Nature Tetains no vigour there, nor vim.

And certeinly, ther Nature wol nat wirche,
And certainly, where Nature will not work,

Fare-wel phisik, go ber the man to chirche!
It's farewell physic, bear the man to kirk!

This al and som, that Arcita moot dye;
The sum of all is, Arcita must die,

For which he sendeth after Emelye
And so he sends a word to Emily,

And Palamon, that was his cosyn deere.
And Palamon, who was his cousin dear;

Thanne seyde he thus, as ye shal after heere:
And then he said to them as you shall hear.

Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte
Naught may the woeful spirit in my heart

Declare o point of alle my sorwes smerte
Declare one point of how my sorrows smart

To yow, my lady, that I love moost.
To you, my lady, whom I love the most;

But I biquethe the servyce of my goost
But I bequeath the service of my ghost

To yow aboven every creature.
To you above all others, this being sure

Syn that my lyf may no lenger dure,
Now that my life may here no more endure.

Allas, the wo! allas, the peynes stronge
Alas, the woe! Alas, the pain so strong

That I for yow have suffred, and so longe!
That I for you have suffered, and so long!

Allas, the deeth! allas, myn Emelye!
Alas for death! Alas, my Emily!

Allas, departynge of our compaignye!
Alas, the parting of our company!

Allas, myn hertes queene! allas, my wyf!
Alas, my heart's own queen! Alas, my wife!

Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf!
My soul's dear lady, ender of my life!

What is this world? what asketh men to have?
What is this world? What asks a man to have?

Now with his love, now in his colde grave,
Now with his love, now in the cold dark grave

Allone, withouten any compaignye.
Alone, with never any company.

Fare-wel, my swete foo, myn Emelye,
Farewell, my sweet foe! O my Emily!

And softe taak me in youre armes tweye,
Oh, take me in your gentle arms, I pray,

For love of God, and herkneth what I seye.
For love of God, and hear what I will say.

I have heer with my cosyn Palamon
I have here, with my cousin Palamon,

Had strif and rancour many a day agon,
Had strife and rancour many a day that's gone,

For love of yow, and for my jalousye.
For love of you and for my jealousy.

And Juppiter so wys my soule gye
May Jove so surely guide my soul for me,

To speken of a servaunt proprely,
To speak about a lover properly,

With alle circumstances trewely,
With all the circumstances, faithfully-

That is to seyn, trouthe, honour, and knyghthede,
That is to say, truth, honour, and knighthood,

Wysdom, humblesse, estaat, and heigh kynrede,
Wisdom, humility and kinship good,

Fredom, and al that longeth to that art,
And generous soul and all the lover's art-

So Juppiter have of my soule part
So now may Jove have in my soul his part

As in this world right now ne knowe I non
As in this world, right now, I know of none

So worthy to ben loved, as Palamon
So worthy to be loved as Palamon,

That serveth yow, and wol doon al his lyf;
Who serves you and will do so all his life.

And if that evere ye shul ben a wyf,
And if you ever should become a wife,

Foryet nat Palamon, the gentil man.
Forget not Palamon, the noble man.

And with that word his speche faille gan,
And with that word his speech to fail began,

And from his herte up to his brest was come
For from his feet up to his breast had come

The coold of deeth, that hadde hym overcome.
The cold of death, making his body numb.

And yet moreover in hise armes two
And furthermore, from his two arms the strength

The vital strengthe is lost and al ago.
Was gone out, now, and he was lost, at length.

Oonly the intellect, withouten moore,
Only the intellect, and nothing more.

That dwelled in his herte syk and soore
Which dwelt within his heart so sick and sore,

Gan faillen, when the herte felte deeth.
Began to fail now, when the heart felt death,

Dusked hise eyen two, and failled breeth,
And his eyes darkened, and he failed of breath.

But on his lady yet caste he his eye.
But on his lady turned he still his eye,

His laste word was mercy, Emelye!
And his last word was, Mercy, Emily!

His spirit chaunged hous, and wente ther
His spirit changed its house and went away.

As I cam nevere, I kan nat tellen wher,
As I was never there, I cannot say

Therfore I stynte; I nam no divinistre,
Where; so I stop, not being a soothsayer;

Of soules fynde I nat in this registre,
Of souls here naught shall I enregister;

Ne me ne list thilke opinions to telle
Nor do I wish their notions, now, to tell

Of hem, though that they writen wher they dwelle.
Who write of them, though they say where they dwell.

Arcite is coold, ther Mars his soule gye:
Arcita's cold; Mars guides his soul on high;

Now wol I speken forthe of Emelye.
Now will I speak forthwith of Emily.

Shrighte Emelye, and howleth Palamon,
Shrieked Emily and howled now Palamon,

And Theseus his suster took anon
Till Theseus his sister took, anon,

Swownynge, and baar hir fro the corps away.
And bore her, swooning, from the corpse away.

What helpeth it to tarien forth the day
How shall it help, to dwell the livelong day

To tellen how she weep bothe eve and morwe?
In telling how she wept both night and morrow?

For in swich cas wommen have swich sorwe
For in like cases women have such sorrow,

Whan that hir housbond is from hem ago,
When their good husband from their side must go,

That for the moore part they sorwen so,
And, for the greater part, they take on so,

Or ellis fallen in swich maladye,
Or else they fall into such malady

That at the laste certeinly they dye.
That, at the last, and certainly, they die.

Infinite been the sorwes and the teeres
Infinite were the sorrows and the tears

Of olde folk, and eek of tendre yeeres
Of all old folk and folk of tender years

In al the toun, for deeth of this Theban.
Throughout the town, at death of this Theban;

For hym ther wepeth bothe child and man;
For him there wept the child and wept the man;

So greet a wepyng was ther noon, certayn,
So great a weeping was not, 'tis certain,

Whan Ector was ybroght al fressh yslayn
When Hector was brought back, but newly slain,

To Troye, allas, the pitee that was ther!
To Troy. Alas, the sorrow that was there!

Cracchynge of chekes, rentynge eek of heer;
Tearing of cheeks and rending out of hair.

Why soldestow be deed, thise wommen crye,
Oh why will you be dead, these women cry,

And haddest gold ynough, and Emelye?
Who had of gold enough, and Emily?

No man myghte gladen Theseus,
No man might comfort then Duke Theseus,

Savynge his olde fader, Egeus,
Excepting his old father, AEgeus,

That knew this worldes transmutacioun,
Who knew this world's mutations, and men's own.

As he hadde seyn it chaungen up and doun,
Since he had seen them changing up and down,

Joye after wo, and wo after gladnesse,
Joy after woe, and woe from happiness:

And shewed hem ensamples and liknesse.
He showed them, by example, the process.

Right as ther dyed nevere man, quod he,
Just as there never died a man, quoth he,

That he ne lyvede in erthe in som degree,
But he had lived on earth in some degree,

Right so ther lyvede never man, he seyde,
Just so there never lived a man, he said,

In al this world that somtyme he ne deyde.
In all this world, but must be sometime dead.

This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo,
This world is but a thoroughfare of woe,

And we been pilgrymes passynge to and fro.
And we are pilgrims passing to and fro;

Deeth is an ende of every worldes soore.
Death is the end of every worldly sore.

And over al this yet seyde he muchel moore,
And after this, he told them yet much more

To this effect ful wisely to enhorte
To that effect, all wisely to exhort

The peple, that they sholde hem reconforte.
The people that they should find some comfort.

Duc Theseus, with al his bisy cure,
Duke Theseus now considered and with care

Caste now, wher that the sepulture
What place of burial he should prepare

Of goode Arcite may best ymaked be,
For good Arcita, as it best might be,

And eek moost honurable in his degree.
And one most worthy of his high degree.

And at the laste he took conclusioun
And at the last concluded, hereupon,

That ther as first Arcite and Palamoun
That where at first Arcita and Palamon

Hadden for love the bataille hem bitwene,
Had fought for love, with no man else between,

That in that selve grove swoote and grene
There, in that very grove, so sweet and green,

Ther as he hadde hise amorouse desires,
Where he mused on his amorous desires

His compleynte, and for love hise hoote fires
Complaining of love's hot and flaming fires,

He wolde make a fyr, in which the office
He'd make a pyre and have the funeral

Funeral he myghte al accomplice;
Accomplished there, and worthily in all.

And leet comande anon to hakke and hewe
And so he gave command to hack and hew

The okes olde, and leye hem on a rewe
The ancient oaks, and lay them straight and true

In colpons, wel arrayed for to brenne.
In split lengths that would kindle well and burn.

Hise officers with swifte feet they renne
His officers, with sure swift feet, they turn

And ryden anon at his comandement;
And ride away to do his whole intent.

And after this Theseus hath ysent
And after this Duke Theseus straightway sent

After a beere, and it al over-spradde
For a great bier, and had it all o'er-spread

With clooth of gold, the richeste that he hadde.
With cloth of gold, the richest that he had.

And of the same suyte he cladde Arcite,
Arcita clad he, too, in cloth of gold;

Upon his hondes hadde he gloves white,
White gloves were on his hands where they did fold;

EEk on his heed a coroune of laurer grene,
Upon his head a crown of laurel green,

And in his hond a swerd ful bright and kene.
And near his hand a sword both bright and keen.

He leyde hym bare the visage on the beere,
Then, having bared the dead face on the bier,

Ther-with he weep that pitee was to heere.
The duke so wept, 'twas pitiful to hear.

And for the peple sholde seen hym alle,
And, so that folk might see him, one and all,

Whan it was day, he broghte hym to the halle,
When it was day he brought them to the hall,

That roreth of the criyng and the soun.
Which echoed of their wailing cries anon.

Tho cam this woful Theban, Palamoun,
Then came this woeful Theban, Plamon,

With flotery berd and rugged asshy heeres,
With fluttery beard and matted, ash-strewn hair,

In clothes blake, ydropped al with teeres,
All in black clothes wet with his tears; and there,

And passynge othere of wepynge Emelye,
Surpassing all in weeping, Emily,

The rewefulleste of al the compaignye.
The most affected of the company.

In as muche as the servyce sholde be
And so that every several rite should be

The moore noble and riche in his degree,
Noble and rich, and suiting his degree,

Duc Theseus leet forth thre steedes brynge
Duke Theseus commanded that they bring

That trapped were in steel al gliterynge,
Three horses, mailed in steel all glittering,

And covered with the armes of daun Arcite.
And covered with Arcita's armour bright.

Upon thise steedes that weren grete and white
Upon these stallions, which were large and white,

Ther sitten folk, of whiche oon baar his sheeld,
There rode three men, whereof one bore the shield.

Another his spere up in his hondes heeld,
And one the spear he'd known so well to wield;

The thridde baar with hym his bowe Turkeys,
The third man bore his Turkish bow, nor less

Of brend gold was the caas, and eek the harneys;
Of burnished gold the quiver than harness;

And riden forth a paas, with sorweful cheere,
And forth they slowly rode, with mournful cheer,

Toward the grove, as ye shul after heere.
Toward that grove, as you shall further hear.

The nobleste of the Grekes that ther were
The noblest Greeks did gladly volunteer

Upon hir shuldres caryeden the beere,
To bear upon their shoulders that great bier,

With slakke paas, and eyen rede and wete,
With measured pace and eyes gone red and wet,

Thurghout the citee by the maister-strete,
Through all the city, by the wide main street,

That sprad was al with blak, and wonder hye
Which was all spread with black, and, wondrous high,

Right of the same is the strete ywrye.
Covered with this same cloth were houses nigh.

Upon the right hond wente olde Egeus,
Upon the right hand went old AEgeus,

And on that oother syde duc Theseus,
And on the other side Duke Theseus,

With vessel in hir hand of gold ful fyn,
With vessels in their hands, of gold right fine,

Al ful of hony, milk, and blood, and wyn.
All filled with honey, milk, and blood, and wine;

Eek Palamon, with ful greet compaignye,
And Palamon with a great company;

And after that cam woful Emelye,
And after that came woeful Emily,

With fyr in honde, as was that tyme the gyse,
With fire in hands, as use was, to ignite

To do the office of funeral servyse.
The sacrifice and set the pyre alight.

Heigh labour, and ful greet apparaillynge,
Great labour and full great apparelling

Was at the service and the fyr makynge,
Went to the service and the fire-making,

That with his grene top the heven raughte,
For to the skies that green pyre reached its top,

And twenty fadme of brede the armes straughte;
And twenty fathoms did the arms out-crop,

This is to seyn, the bowes weren so brode.
That is to say, the branches went so wide.

Of stree first ther was leyd ful many a lode,
Full many a load of straw they did provide.

But how the fyr was maked upon highte,
But how the fire, was made to climb so high;

Ne eek the names that the trees highte,
Or what names all the different trees went by.

As, ook, firre, birch, aspe, alder, holm, popeler,
As oak, fir, birch, asp, alder, poplar, holm,

Wylugh, elm, plane, assh, box, chasteyn, lynde, laurer,
Willow, plane, ash, box, chestnut, linden, elm,

Mapul, thorn, bech, hasel, ew, whippeltre,
Laurel, thorn, maple, beech, yew, dogwood tree,

How they weren fild shal nat be toold for me,
Or how they were felled, sha'n't be told by me.

Ne how the goddes ronnen up and doun
Nor how the wood-gods scampered up and down,

Disherited of hir habitacioun,
Driven from homes that they had called their own,

In whiche they woneden in reste and pees,
Wherein they'd lived so long at ease, in peace,

Nymphes, Fawnes, and Amadrides;
The nymphs, the fauns, the hamadryades;

Ne how the beestes and the briddes alle
Nor how the beasts, for fear, and the birds, all

Fledden for fere, whan the wode was falle;
Fled, when that ancient wood began to fall;

Ne how the ground agast was of the light,
Nor how aghast the ground was in the light,

That was nat wont to seen the sonne bright;
Not being used to seeing the sun so bright;

Ne how the fyr was couched first with stree,
Nor how the fire was started first with straw,

And thanne with drye stokkes clovena thre,
And then with dry wood, riven thrice by saw,

And thanne with grene wode and spicerye,
And then with green wood and with spicery,

And thanne with clooth of gold and with perrye,
And then with cloth of gold and jewellery,

And gerlandes hangynge with ful many a flour,
And garlands hanging with full many a flower,

The mirre, thencens, with al so greet odour;
And myrrh, and incense, sweet as rose in bower;

Ne how Arcite lay among al this,
Nor how Arcita lies among all this,

Ne what richesse aboute his body is,
Nor what vast wealth about his body is;

Ne how that Emelye, as was the gyse,
Nor how this Emily, as was their way,

Putte in the fyr of funeral servyse;
Lighted the sacred funeral fire, that day,

Ne how she swowned whan men made the fyr,
Nor how she swooned when men built up the fire,

Ne what she spak, ne what was hir desir,
Nor what she said, nor what was her desire;

Ne what jeweles men in the fyr caste,
No, nor what gems men on the fire then cast,

Whan that the fyr was greet and brente faste;
When the white flame went high and burned so fast;

Ne how somme caste hir sheeld, and somme hir spere,
Nor how one cast his shield, and one his spear,

And of hire vestimentz whiche that they were,
And some their vestments, on that burning bier,

And coppes full of wyn, and milk, and blood,
With cups of wine, and cups of milk, and blood,

Into the fyr, that brente as it were wood,
Into that flame, which burned as wild-fire would;

Ne how the Grekes, with an huge route,
Nor how the Greeks, in one huge wailing rout,

Thryes riden al the place aboute,
Rode slowly three times all the fire about,

Upon the left hand with a loud shoutynge,
Upon the left hand, with a loud shouting,

And thries with hir speres claterynge,
And three times more, with weapons clattering,

And thries how the ladyes gonne crye,
While thrice the women there raised up a cry;

And how that lad was homward Emelye;
Nor how was homeward led sad Emily;

Ne how Arcite is brent to asshen colde,
Nor how Arcita burned to ashes cold;

Ne how that lychewake was yholde
Nor aught of how the lichwake they did hold

Al thilke nyght, ne how the Grekes pleye
All that same night, nor how the Greeks did play

The wakepleyes ne kepe I nat to seye,
The Funeral Games, I will not say,

Who wrastleth best naked, with oille enoynt,
Who, naked, wrestled best, with oil anointed,

Ne who that baar hym best in no disjoynt;
Nor who best bore himself in deeds appointed.

I wol nat tellen eek, how that they goon
I will not even tell how they were gone

Hoom til Atthenes, whan the pley is doon;
Home, into Athens, when the play was done;

But shortly to the point thanne wol I wende,
But briefly to the point, now, will I wend

And maken of my longe tale an ende.
And make of this, my lengthy tale, an end.

By processe, and by lengthe of certeyn yeres,
With passing in their length of certain years,

Al stynted is the moornynge and the teres
All put by was the mourning and the tears

Of Grekes, by oon general assent.
Of Greeks, as by one general assent;

Thanne semed me ther was a parlement
And then it seems there was a parliament

At Atthenes, upon certein pointz and caas,
At Athens, upon certain points in case;

Among the whiche pointz yspoken was
Among the which points spoken of there was

To have with certein contrees alliaunce,
The ratifying of alliances

And have fully of Thebans obeisaunce,
That should hold Thebes from all defiances.

For which this noble Theseus anon
Whereat this noble Theseus, anon,

Leet senden after gentil Palamon,
Invited there the gentle Palamon,

Unwist of hym what was the cause and why.
Not telling him what was the cause, and why;

But in hise blake clothes sorwefully
But in his mourning clothes, and sorrowfully,

He cam at his comandement in hye;
He came upon that bidding, so say I.

Tho sente Theseus for Emelye.
And then Duke Theseus sent for Emily.

Whan they were set, and hust was al the place,
When they were seated and was hushed the place,

And Theseus abiden hadde a space
And Theseus had mused a little space,

Er any word cam fram his wise brest,
Ere any word came from his full wise breast,

Hise eyen sette he ther as was his lest,
His two eyes fixed on whoso pleased him best,

And with a sad visage he siked stille,
Then with a sad face sighed he deep and still,

And after that right thus he seyde his wille.
And after that began to speak his will.

The firste moevere of the cause above
The Primal Mover and the Cause above,

Whan he first made the faire cheyne of love,
When first He forged the goodly chain of love,

Greet was theffect, and heigh was his entente;
Great the effect, and high was His intent;

Wel wiste he, why, and what therof he mente,
Well knew He why, and what thereof He meant;

For with that faire cheyne of love he bond
For with that goodly chain of love He bound

The fyr, the eyr, the water, and the lond,
The fire, the air, the water, and dry ground

In certeyn boundes that they may nat flee.
In certain bounds, the which they might not flee;

That same prince and that same moevere, quod he,
That same First Cause and Mover, then quoth he,

Hath stablissed in this wrecched world adoun
Has stablished in this base world, up and down,

Certeyne dayes and duracioun
A certain length of days to call their own

To al that is engendred in this place,
For all that are engendered in this place,

Over the whiche day they may nat pace;
Beyond the which not one day may they pace,

Al mowe they yet tho dayes wel abregge,
Though yet all may that certain time abridge;

Ther nedeth noght noon auctoritee allegge,
Authority there needs none, I allege,

For it is preeved by experience-
For it is well proved by experience,

But that me list declaren my sentence.
Save that I please to clarify my sense.

Thanne may men by this ordre wel discerne
Then may men by this order well discern

That thilke moevere stable is and eterne.
This Mover to be stable and eterne.

Wel may men knowe, but it be a fool,
Well may man know, unless he be a fool,

That every part deryveth from his hool;
That every part derives but from the whole.

For nature hath nat taken his bigynnyng
For Nature has not taken his being

Of no partie nor cantel of a thyng,
From any part and portion of a thing,

But of a thyng that parfit is and stable,
But from a substance perfect, stable aye,

Descendynge so til it be corrumpable;
And so continuing till changed away.

And therfore, of his wise purveiaunce,
And therefore, of His Wisdom's Providence,

He hath so wel biset his ordinaunce,
Has He so well established ordinance

That speces of thynges and progressiouns
That species of all things and all progressions,

Shullen enduren by successiouns,
If they'd endure, it must be by successions,

And nat eterne, withouten any lye.
Not being themselves eternal, 'tis no lie:

This maystow understonde and seen at eye.
This may you understand and see by eye.

Lo the ook, that hath so long a norisshynge
Lo now, the oak, that has long nourishing

From tyme that it first bigynneth sprynge,
Even from the time that it begins to spring,

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

Yet at the laste wasted is the tree.
Yet at the last all wasted is the tree.

Considereth eek, how that the harde stoon
Consider, too, how even the hard stone

Under oure feet, on which we trede and goon,
Under our feet we tread each day upon

Yit wasteth it, as it lyth by the weye.
Yet wastes it, as it lies beside the way.

The brode ryver somtyme wexeth dreye,
And the broad river will be dry some day.

The grete toures se we wane and wende,
And great towns wane; we see them vanishing.

Thanne may ye se that al this thyng hath ende.
Thus may we see the end to everything.

Of man and womman seen we wel also,
Of man and woman just the same is true:

That nedeth, in oon of thise termes two,
Needs must, in either season of the two,

This is to seyn, in youthe or elles age,
That is to say, in youth or else in age,

He moot be deed, the kyng as shal a page.
All men perish, the king as well as page;

Som in his bed, som in the depe see,
Some in their bed, and some in the deep sea,

Som in the large feeld, as men may se;
And some in the wide field- as it may be;

Ther helpeth noght, al goth that ilke weye,
There's naught will help; all go the same way. Aye,

Thanne may I seyn that al this thyng moot deye.
Then may I say that everything must die.

What maketh this, but Juppiter the kyng,
Who causes this but Jupiter the King?

That is prince and cause of alle thyng
He is the Prince and Cause of everything,

Convertyng al unto his propre welle
Converting all back to that primal well

From which it is deryved, sooth to telle,
From which it was derived, 'tis sooth to tell.

And heer agayns no creature on lyve
And against this, for every thing alive,

Of no degree availleth for to stryve.
Of any state, avalls it not to strive.

Thanne is it wysdom, as it thynketh me,
Then is it wisdom, as it seems to me,

To maken vertu of necessitee,
To make a virtue of necessity,

And take it weel, that we may nat eschue;
And calmly take what we may not eschew,

And namely, that to us alle is due.
And specially that which to all is due.

And who so gruccheth ought, he dooth folye,
Whoso would balk at aught, he does folly,

And rebel is to hym that al may gye.
And thus rebels against His potency.

And certeinly, a man hath moost honour
And certainly a man has most honour

To dyen in his excellence and flour,
In dying in his excellence and flower,

Whan he is siker of his goode name,
When he is certain of his high good name;

Thanne hath he doon his freend ne hym no shame.
For then he gives to friend, and self, no shame.

And galdder oghte his freend been of his deeth,
And gladder ought a friend be of his death

Whan with honour upyolden in his breeth,
When, in much honour, he yields up his breath,

Than whan his name apalled is for age;
Than when his name's grown feeble with old age;

For al forgeten is his vassellage.
For all forgotten, then, is his courage.

Thanne is it best as for a worthy fame,
Hence it is best for all of noble name

To dyen whan that he is best of name.
To die when at the summit of their fame.

The contrarie of al this is wilfulnesse:
The contrary of this is wilfulness.

Why grucchen heere his cosyn and his wyf
Why do we grumble? Why have heaviness

That goode Arcite, of chivalrie flour,
That good Arcita, chivalry's fair flower,

Departed is with duetee and honour
Is gone, with honour, in his best-lived hour.

Out of this foule prisoun of this lyf?
Out of the filthy prison of this life?

Why grucchen heere his cosyn and his wyf
Why grumble here his cousin and his wife

Of his welfare, that loved hem so weel?
About his welfare, who loved them so well?

Kan he hem thank? Nay, God woot never a deel!
Can he thank them? Nay, God knows, not! Nor tell

That bothe his soule and eek hemself offende,
How they his soul and their own selves offend,

And yet they mowe hir lustes nat amende.
Though yet they may not their desires amend.

What may I concluden of this longe serye,
What may I prove by this long argument

But after wo I rede us to be merye,
Save that we all turn to merriment,

And thanken Juppiter of al his grace?
After our grief, and give Jove thanks for grace.

And er that we departen from this place
And so, before we go from out this place,

I rede that we make, of sorwes two,
I counsel that we make, of sorrows two

O parfit joye lastyng everemo.
One perfect joy, lasting for aye, for you;

And looketh now, wher moost sorwe is her inne,
And look you now, where most woe is herein,

Ther wol we first amenden and bigynne.
There will we first amend it and begin.

Suster, quod he, this is my fulle assent,
Sister, quoth he, you have my full consent,

With all thavys heere of my parlement,
With the advice of this my Parliament,

That gentil Palamon thyn owene kynght,
That gentle Palamon, your own true knight,

That serveth yow with wille, herte, and myght,
Who serves you well with will and heart and might,

And evere hath doon, syn that ye first hym knewe,
And so has ever, since you knew him first-

That ye shul of your grace upon hym rewe,
That you shall, of your grace, allay his thirst

And taken hym for housbonde and for lord.
By taking him for husband and for lord:

Lene me youre hond, for this is oure accord.
Lend me your hand, for this is our accord.

Lat se now of youre wommanly pitee;
Let now your woman's pity make him glad.

He is a kynges brother sone, pardee,
For he is a king's brother's son, by gad;

And though he were a povre bacheler,
And though he were a poor knight bachelor,

Syn he hath served yow so many a yeer,
Since he has served you for so many a year,

And had for yow so greet adversitee,
And borne for you so great adversity,

It moste been considered, leeveth me,
This ought to weigh with you, it seems to me,

For gentil mercy oghte to passen right.
For mercy ought to dominate mere right.

Thanne seyde he thus to Palamon ful right:
Then said he thus to Palamon the knight:

I trowe ther nedeth litel sermonyng
I think there needs but little sermoning

To make yow assente to this thyng.
To make you give consent, now, to this thing.

Com neer, and taak youre lady by the hond.
Come near, and take your lady by the hand.

Bitwixen hem was maad anon the bond
Between them, then, was tied that nuptial band,

That highte matrimoigne, or mariage,
Which is called matrimony or marriage,

By al the conseil and the baronage.
By all the council and the baronage.

And thus with alle blisse and melodye
And thus, in all bliss and with melody,

Hath Palamon ywedded Emelye;
Has Palamon now wedded Emily.

And God, that al this wyde world hath wroght,
And God Who all this universe has wrought,

Sende hym his love that hath it deere aboght!
Send him His love, who has it dearly bought.

For now is Palamon in alle wele,
For now has Palamon, in all things, wealth,

Lyvynge in blisse, in richesse, and in heele,
Living in bliss, in riches, and in health;

And Emelye hym loveth so tendrely,
And Emily loved him so tenderly,

And he hir serveth al so gentilly,
And he served her so well and faithfully,

That nevere was ther no word hem bitwene,
That never word once marred their happiness,

Of jalousie, or any oother teene.
No jealousy, nor other such distress.

Thus endeth Palamon and Emelye,
Thus ends now Palamon and Emily;

And God save al this faire compaignye!-Amen-
And may God save all this fair company! Amen.