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In the morning they proceed to the theatre with their respective troops, and prepare for the action. Arcita puts up a private prayer to Emilia, and harangues his troop publicly, and Palemone does the same. Contains a description of the battle, in which Pale- mone is taken prisoner. The horse of Arcita, being frighted by a Fury, sent from Hell at the desire of Venus, throws him.

However, he is carried to Athens in a triumphal chariot with Emilia by his side ; is put to bed dangerously ill ; and there by his own desire espouses Emilia. The funeral of the persons killed in the combat. Arcita, being given over by his physicians, makes his will, in discourse with Theseus, and desires that Palemone may inherit all his pos- sessions and also Emilia. He then takes leave of Palemone and Emilia, to whom he repeats the same request. Their lamen- tations. Arcita orders a sacrifice to Mercury, which Palemone performs for him, and dies. Opens with the passage of Arcita's soul to heaven, imi- tated from the Ninth Book of Lucan.

The funeral of Arcita. Description of the wood felled takes up six stanzas. Palemone builds a temple in honour of him, in which his whole history is painted. Theseus proposes to carry into execution Arcita's will by the marriage of Palemone and Emilia. This they both decline for some time in formal speeches, but at last are per- suaded and married.

The first in order of time is the invasion, settlement, and conquest of the country by the Danes, extend- ing over a period of nearly a century and a half a. The Danish influence upon the language seems to have affected chiefly the dialects of the north and east parts of the island, in con- sequence of which their inflexions and syntactical structure were much simplified, and they assumed a more modern appearance than the speech prevailing in other districts.

Doubtless it caused the language generally to be in a very unsettled state, and the re- volution thus commenced was accelerated by the Norman Con- quest, which followed in the year XXIX utterly despised both the language and literature of the Saxons as only fit for churls and villains. But though the English Were thus made to feel their position as a subject people, they clung most pertinaciously to the speech of their forefathers, and after a long and continuous struggle English regained its supremacy as the language of literature and the common tongue of all who claimed the name of Englishmen, while Norman-French was reduced to a mere provincial dialect.

This was brought about by the fusion of the Saxon and Norman races, about the time of Henry II; by the severance of Normandy from England and its annexation to France, in the time of John; by the wars of Edward III, which did much to promote religious and political liberty, and by the adoption of English as the household speech by that part of the nation that had previously spoken French, which happened about the middle of the fourteenth century.

The Norman Conquest wrought a twofold revolution in the language: the first, which extended over nearly the whole of the twelfth century, aifected the grammatical forms of the language; final vowels were changed, some consonants became softened, and many of the older inflexions of nouns, adjectives and verbs went out of use, their place being supplied by prepositions and auxiliary words.

This was a period of great grammatical confusion, but the vocabulary remained unchanged. The additions to the vocabulary were at first small, but they gradually increased, and about the middle of the fourteenth century they formed no inconsiderable part of the twritten language. In Chaucer's works these loans are so numerous that he has been accused of corrupting the English language by a large and unnecessary admixture of Norman- French terms.

But Chaucer, with few exceptions, employed only such terms as were in use in the spoken language, and stamped them with the impress of his genius, so that they became current coin of the literary realm. The period in which Chaucer lived was one of great literary activity, and such names as Richard Rolle of Hampole, Minot, Mandeville, Langland, Wicliffe, and Gower, prove that the English language was in a healthy and vigorous condition, and really deserving of the importance into which it was rising. Of these dialects the East Midland, spoken, with some variation, from the Humber to the Thames, was perhaps the simplest in its grammatical structure, the most free from those broad provin- cialisms which particularised the speech of other districts, and presented the nearest approach in form and substance to the language of the present day as spoken and written by educated Englishmen.

In the works of Ormin and Robert of Brunne we have evidence of its great capacity for literary purposes. XXXI new life which the English people at this time were just com- mencing, and his works reflect not only his own inimitable genius, but the spirit, tastes, and feelings of his age. Our earlier authors are usually studied for their philological importance, and most of them require the aid of a grammar and a glossary, but Chaucer is as easily un- derstood as Spenser and Shakespeare.

Not many of his terms are wholly obsolete, and but few of his inflections have gone whqlly out of use. But as some special acquaintance with Chaucer's English will be of great service in mastering the poet's system of versification, an outline of his grammatical forms for the most part taken from Prof. Child's Essay on Chaucer is here subjoined, which will be found useful should the young student feel disposed to make himself acquainted with the works of earlier English writers.

In some MSS. Doughtren A. Sistren, sustren A. Children A. Fon,foon A. Feet, gees, men, teeth, are examples of the plural by vowel- change. The following phrases contain remnants of feminine nouns which originally formed the genitive in -an first declension of A. Northern and Midland dialects we find bretUr brothers , cbilder children , degbier daughters. XXXlii 3. Adjectives, like the modern German, have two forms — Definite and Indefinite. Degrees of Comparison.

Bet bettre' and mo are contracted forms. Adjectives of more than one syllable, and adjectives used pre- dicatively, mostly drop the -e in the plural. The old plural of the definite article tbo A. This has for its plural thLse, thes, these A. Thilke A. Ihat ilke, that same A. I, Ich, Iky we.

Masc, Ftm. Neut, Nom. The Independent forms of the pronouns, which are also used predicatively, are min pi. The Interrogative pronouns are wbo gen. That with a spere was thirled his brest boon. This construction occurs in A. Me and men are used like the French on, English one. Indicative Mood. Present Tense. PlnraL 1. I love, We lov-en, lov-e.

Thou lov-est, Ye lov-en, lov-e. He lov-eth, They lov-en, lov-e. Past Tense. Thou lov-edest, Ye lov-eden, lov-ede. He lov-ede, They lov-eden, lov-ede. XXXVll 1. Heren, to hear, herde. Hiden, to hide, hidde. Kepen, to keep, kepte. Some few verbs have a change of vowel in the past tense; as — FRES. Delen, to deal, dalte. Leden, to lead, ladde. Leven, to leave, lafte. Sterten, to start, sterte -stert-te. To the second class belong PRE8.

Tellen, to tell, Sellen, to sell, Seche, to seek, tolde. These verbs have a change of vowel in the past tense, and the past participle ends in en or -e; as Jterven, to die ; pret. Jtorven or starve, See Participles, p. Creep crep and crep-te. Weep wep and wep-te. But these forms may be due merely to the scribes. The plural indicative ends in -en or -tf. Riden, to ride, rood, rod, riden. Smiten, to smite, smoot, smiten. Sterven, to die, starf, storven. Subjunctive Mood. Imperative Mood. The plural terminates usually in -etb, but sometimes the -tb is dropped.

Infinitive Mood. The If was dropped at a very early period in the Southern English dialect of the fourteenth century, and -e is preferred to -en. See Prol. The present participle ends usually in -yng. The A. The suffix 'ingy of nouns like morning, was 'ung in the older stages of the language. The prefix j- or i- A. Beriy beeriy to be: — ist sing. Imperative pi. Conne, to know, be able : — pres. Daren, darei — pres. Mot, must, may: — indie, pres. Ofwen, to owe debeo : — pres, ocwetJb ; past ougbte, augbte; pi. Scbal, shall : — pres. Thar, need : — pres. S, neade , needs; onej A.

S, agean y against ; amonges A. Of-netwej newly cp. Negative Adverbs. Two or more negatives more common than one in Chaucer do not make an affirmative. In al his lyf unto no maner wight. As is used before the imperative mood in supplicatory phraser See Knightes Tale, Was neither ,. Except the Tale of Melibeus and the Persones Tale, the Canterbury Tales are written in rhyming verse ; but this system of versification did not come into general use in England until after the Norman Conquest.

The poetry of the Anglo- Saxons, like that of the Scandinavian and old Germanic races, was rhythmical and alliterative. Their poems are written in couplets, in such a manner that in each couplet there are three emphatic words, two in the first and one in the second, commencing with the same letter; and this letter is also the initial of the first emphatic, or accented word, in the second line. In the North and West of England alliteration was employed as late as the end of the fifteenth century, but it appears to have gone out of use in the Southern and Eastern parts of the country, which early in the thirteenth century adopted the classical and Romance forms of versification.

The greater part of the Canterbury Tales are written in heroic couplets, or lines containing five accents. In this metre we have ten syllables ; but we often find eleven, and occasionally nine. A bet I tre preest I trowe ther no wher non is. But wel I I woot I that in this world gret pyne is. So in lines i and 2 of the Prologue :— - 'Whan that April le with his schow res swoote The drought of Marche hath per ced to the roote.

Morris, ; also to Mr, A. L Tales, 1. So also many noims of A. See Knightes Tale, U. In Troylus and Criseyde we often find ibrighte and sigbte written for sbrikede and sighed'e. The following remarks will enable the reader to understand when and why it is employed. In nouns and adjectives of A. S, Jbeorte, mare ; bale, care, fivode — A. Final -r is a remnant of various grammatical inflexions : — i It is a sign of the dative case in nouns; as roote, breethe, beethe Prol. See Infinitive Mood, p.

See p. See Sub- junctive Mood, p. In the personal pronouns; as ourej youre, hire, here, a. In many words of more than one syllable, and in words of Romance origin. It is elided — I. The following metrical analysis of the opening lines of the Prologue will enable the reader to apply the rules already given. The ho I ly Wis fSl mar tfr for to seeke. That hem hSth h5lp en whan that they were seeke.

The final e in roote, breetbe, beethe, is sounded, as the sign of the dative case. The final e in siveete, yonge, balfct is sounded, as the sign of the definite form of the adjective. The final e in to seeke is sounded, as the sign of the infinitive mood, representing the fuller form. The final en is sounded in to seeken, as the sign of the infinitive mood. Fertue, licourf nature, and corages, are accented on the last syllable of the root, as in French. The text of the present selection from the Canterbury Tales is taken from the well-known MS. It has therefore been revised throughout by a careful collation with the EUesmere, Hengwrt, and Corpus manuscripts printed in Mr.

The Lans- downe, Petworth, and Cambridge manuscripts in the Six-Text edition have also been consulted in all cases of difliculty, but they have not proved of much service in correcting the blunders of the Harleian manuscript. Other scribes muddle them up in every mannc:! An initial 3 A. All verbal and grammatical difficulties in the text are explained in the Notes and Glossary, which, it is hoped, will afford young students all the help that they may require in studying the present selection.

I gladly take the present opportunity of thanking my kind friends the Rev. Skeat and Mr.

Cheap sla prototypes cnc prototypes deals

Furaivall for many valuable notes and suggestions. Kino's College, London, Septimber a. Freedom of trading guaran- teed by the Legislature to foreign merchants. Defeat of the French ofiF Sluys. Nicholas V , ,. Order of the Garter instituted Papal Provisions forbidden. Polycbronicon, by Ralph Higden. Chaucer eommences bis mili- tary career; is taken pri- soner by the French. Clement VI. Cbaueer employed on a mis- sum to Pisa and Genoa. A pension of a pitcber of wine daily granted to Cbaueer. Death of Edward the Black Piince. Urban V.

Bible translated into English by Wycliffe. Chaucer is appointed Comp- troller of the Petty Customs? Chaucer is appointed Clerk of the King's Works at Windsor. Benedict XIII. And smale fowles maken melodie. That slepen al the night with open eye, 10 So priketh hem nature in here corages : — Thanne longen folk to gon on pilgrimages. Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage To Caunterbury with ful devout corage, At night Mras come into that hostelrie Wei nynt and twenty in a compainye, Of sondry folk, by aventm-e i-falle In felaweschipe, and pilgryms were thei alle.

That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde; The chambres and the stables weren wyde, And wel we weren esed atte beste. And schortly, whan the sonne was to reste, So hadde I spoken with hem everychon, That I was of here felaweschipe anon. And made forward erly for to ryse, To take our wey ther as I yow devyse. But natheles, whil I have tyme and space. Or that I forther in this tale pace.

Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun. A Knight ther was, and that a worthy man, That from the tyme that he first bigan To ryden out, he lovede chyvahye, Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisie. Ful worthi was he in his lordes werre, And therto hadde he riden, noman ferre, As wel in Cristendom as in hethenesse, And evere honoured for his worthinesse. At Lieys was he, and at Satalie, Whan they were wonne; and in the Greete see At many a noble arive hadde he be.

This ilke worthi knight hadde ben also Somtyme with the lord of Palatye, 65 Ageyn another hethen in Turkye: And everemore he hadde a sovereyn prys. And though that he was worthy, he was wys, And of his port as meke as is a mayde. He neverejit no vileinye ne sayde 70 In al his lyf, unto no maner wight. Of fustyan he werede a gepoun 75 Al bysmotered with his habergeoun. For he was late ycome from his viage, And wente for to doon his pilgrimage. Of twenty yeer of age he was I gesse. And bom him wel, as of so litel space, In hope to stonden in his lady grace.

Embrowded was he, as it were a mede Al ful of fresshe floures, white and reede. Schort was his goune, with sleeves longe and wyde. Wei cowde he sitte on hors, and faire ryde. He cowde songes make and wel endite, 9 Juste and eek daunce, and wel pm-treye and write. So bote he lovede, that by jiightertale He sleep nomore than doth a nightyngale.

Cm-teys he was, lowely, and servysable, And carf byforn his fader at the table. A shef of pocok arwes brighte and kene Under his belte he bar fill thriftily. And in his bond he bar a mighty bowe. A not-heed hadde he with a broun visage. Of woode-craft wel cowde he al the usage. And by his side a swerd and a bokeler.

And on that other side a gay daggere, Harneysed wel, and scharp as poynt of spere; A Cristofre on his brest of silver schene. At mete wel i-taught was sche withalle; Sche leet no morsel from hire lippes falle, Ne wette hire fyngres in hire sauce deepe. Wel cowde sche carie a morsel, and wel keepe, That no drope ne fille uppon hire breste. In curteisie was set ful moche hire leste.

Hire overlippe wypede sche so clene, That in hire cuppe was no ferthing sene Of greece, whan sche dronken hadde hire draughte. Ful semely after hire mete sche raughte, And sikerly sche was of gret disport, And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port, And pe niede hire to countrefete cheere Of court, and ben estatlich of manere, And to ben holden digne of reverence. But for to speken of hire conscience, Sche was so charitable and so pitous, Sche wolde weepe if that sche sawe a mous Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.

But sore wepte sche if oon of hem were deed. It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe; For hardily sche was not undergrowe. Ful fetys was hire cloke, as I was waar. Of smal coral aboute hire arm sche baar A peire of bedes gauded al with grene ; And theron heng a broch of gold ful schene, x6o On which was first i-write a crowned A, And after, Amor vincit omnia. Another Nonne with hire hadde sche, That was hire chapeleyne, and Prestes thre.

A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrie, An out-rydere, that lovede venerye; A manly man, to ben an abbot able. Ther as this lord was kepere of the selle. The reule of seynt Maure or of seint Beneyt, Bycause that it was old and somdel streyt, This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace, And held after the newe world the space. But thilke text held he not worth an oystre. And I seide his opinioim was good. How schal the world be served? Lat Austyn have his swynk to him reserved. Therfore he was a pricasour aright; Greyhoundes he hadde as swifte as fowel in flight; Of prikyng and of hunt mg for the hare Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.

I saugh his sieves purfiled atte honde With grys, and that the fyneste of a londe. And for to festne his hood under his chynne He hadde of gold y- wrought a curious pynne : A love-knotte in the grettere ende ther was. His heed was balled, that dchon as eny glas, And eek his face as he hadde ben anoynt. He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt; aoo His eyen steepe, and rollyng in his heede.

That stemede as a forneys of a leede; His bootes souple, his hors in gret estate. Now certeinly he was a fair prelate; He was not pale as a for-pyned goost A fat swan lovede he best of eny roost His palfrey was as broim as is a berye. A Frers ther was, a wantown and a merye, A lymytour, a fill solempne man. In alle the ordres foure is noon that can a 10 So moche of daliaunce and fair langage.

As seyde himself, more than a curat. For many a man so hard is of his herte, He may not wepe although him sore smerte. His typet was ay farsed ful of knyfes And pynnes, for tojive faire wyfes. And certeynli he hadde a mery noote; Wel couthe he synge and pleyen on a rote. His neldse whit was as the flour-de-lys.

Therto he strong was as a champioun. He knew the tavemes wel in every toun, And everych hostiler and tappestere, Bet then a lazer, or a beggestere, For unto such a worthi man as he Acordede not, as by his faculty, To han with sike lazars aqueyntaunce. But al with riche and sellers of vitaille. And rage he couthe as it were right a whelpe, In love-dayes couthe he mochel helpe. For ther he was not lik a cloysterer, With a thredbare cope as is a poure scoler, But he was lik a maister or a pope.

Of double worstede was his semy-cope, That rounded as a belle out of the presse. Somwhat he lipsede, for his wantownesse, To make his Englissch swete upon his tunge; And in his harpyng, whan that he hadde sunge, His eyghen twynkled in his heed aright, As don the sterres in the frosty night This worthi lymytour was cleped Huberd.

His resons he spak ful solempnely, Sownynge alway thencres of his wynnynge. Wel couthe he in eschaunge scheeldes selle. This worthi man ful wel his wit bisette; Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette, So estatly was he of governaunce. A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also, That unto logik hadde longe i-go. As lene was his hors as is a rake, And he was not right fat, I undertake; But lokede holwe, and therto soberly. For him was levere have at his beddes heede Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reede, Of Aristotle and his philosophic, Then robes riche, or fithele, or gay sawtrie. Of studie took he most cure and most heede.

And gladly wolde he leme, and gladly teche. A Sergeant of Lawe, war and wys, That often hadde, ben atte parvys, Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. So gret a purchasour was nowher noon. Al was fee symple to him in effecte, His purchasjoig mighte nought ben enfecte. In termes hadde he caas and domes alle, That fro the tyme of kyng William were falle. Therto he couthe endite, and make a thing, Ther couthe no wight pynche at his writyng; And every statute couthe he pleyn by roote.

Of his complexioun he was sangwyn. Wei lovede he by the morwe a sop in wyn. To lyven in delite was al his wone, 33s For he was Epicurus owne sone, That heeld op myoun that ple m delyt Was verraily felicity perfyt. Withoute bake mete was nevere his hous, Of flessch and fissch, and that so plentevous. Hit snewede in his hous of mete and drynke, Of alle de mtees that men cowde thynke. Woo was his cook, but-if his sauce were Poynaunt and scharp, and redy al his gere.

His table dormant in his halle alway Stood redy covered al the longe day. At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire. An anlas and a gipser al of silk Heng at his girdel, whit as mome mylk. A schirreve hadde he ben, and a countour; Was nowher such a worthi vavasour. Ful fressh and newe here gere apiked was; Here knyfes were i-chaped nat with bras. For catel hadde they inough and rente, And eek here wyfes wolde it wel assente; And elles certeyn were thei to blame. And han a mantel riallyche i-bore. I3 Maken mortreux, and wel bake a pye. But gret harm was it, as it thoughte me, That on his schyne a mormal hadde he, For blankmanger that made he with the beste.

He rood upon a rouncy, as he couthe, In a gowne of faldyng to the kne. A daggere hangyng on a laas hadde he Aboute his nekke under his arm adoun. The hoote somer hadde maad his hew al broun; And certeinly he was a good felawe. Of nyce conscience took he no keep. Hardy he was, and wys to undertake ; With many a tempest hadde his herd ben schake. He knew wel alle the havenes, as thei were, From Gootlond to the cape of Fynystere, And every cryke in Bretayne and in Spayne; His barge y-cleped was the Maudelayne. Ful redy hadde he his apotecaries, To sende him dragges, and his letuaries, For ech of hem made other for to wynne; Here frendschipe nas not newe to begynne.

Of his diete mesimible was he, For it was of no superfluity, But of gret norisching and digestible. His studie was but litel on the Bible. In sangwin and in pers he clad was al, Lined with taffata and with sendal. For gold in phisik is a cordial, Therfore he lovede gold in special. A good WiF was ther of byside Bathe, But sche was somdel deef, and that was skathe. Bold was hire face, and fair, and reed of hewe. Sche cowde moche of wandryng by the weye.

Gat-tothed was sche, sothly for to seye. Uppon an amblere esily sche sat, Ywympled wel, and on hire heed an hat As brood as is a bokeler or a targe; A foot-mantel aboute hire hipes large, And on hire feet a paire of spores scharpe. In felaweschipe wel cowde sche lawghe and carpe. Of remedyes of love sche knew parchaunce, For of that art sche couthe the olde daunce. A good man was ther of religioun. And was a poure Persgun of a toun; But riche he was of holy thought and werk. He cowde in litel thing han suffisaunce. But he ne lafte not for reyne ne thonder, In siknesse nor in meschief to visite The ferreste in his parissche, moche and lite, Uppon his feet, and in his hond a staf.

He sette not his benefice to hyre. And leet his scheep encombred in the myre, And ran to Londone, unto seynte Poules, To seeken him a chaunterie for soules, 5 0 Or with a bretherhede to ben withholde; But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde. He was to sinful man nought despitous, Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne, But in his teching discret and benigne. To drawe folk to heven by faimesse By good ensample, this was his busynesse: But it were eny persone obstinat, What so he were, of high or lowe estat, Him wolde he snybbe scharply for the nones.

A bettre preest, I trowe, ther nowher non is. He wajrtede after no pompe and reverence, Ne makede him a spiced conscience, But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve. He taughte, but first he folwede it himselve. With him ther was a Ploughman, was his brother, That hadde i-lad of dong ful many a fother, A trewe swjmkere and a good was he, L rvynge in pees and 'perOght charitee.

God lovede he best with al hi? And thanne his neighebour right as himselve. His tythes payede he ful faire and wel, Bothe of his owne swynk and his catel. He was schort schuldred, brood, a thikke knarre, Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre, Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed. His berd as ony sowe or fox was reed, And therto brood, as though it were a spade. Upon the cop right of his nose he hade A werte, and theron stood a tuft of heres, Reede as the berstles of a sowes eeres.

His nose-thurles blake were and wyde. A swerd and bokeler baar he by his side, His mouth as wyde was as a gret fomeys. He was a janglere and a golyardeys, And that was most of synne and harlotries. A whit cote and a blew hood werede he. A baggepipe wel cowde he blowe and sowne, And therwithal he broughte us out of towne. A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple. Of which achatours mighten take exemple For to be wyse in beyying of vitaille. For whether that he payde, or took by taille, Algate he waytede so in his achate.

That he was ay bifom and in good state. Now is not that of God a ful fair grace, That such a lewed mannes wit schal pace The wisdom of an heep of lernede men? The Reeve was a sklendre colerik man, His herd was schave as neigh as evere he can. His heer was by his eres ful round i-shorn. His top was docked lyk a preest bifom.


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Wei cowde he kepe a gerner and a bynne; Ther was non auditour cowde on him wynne. Wei wiste he by the droughte, and by the reyn, The yeeldyng of his seed, and of his greyn. His lordes scheep, his neet, his dayerie. His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrie, Was holly in this reeves governynge. Ther nas baillif, ne herde, ne other hyne. That he ne knew his sleighte and his covyne; They were adrad of him, as of the dethe. With grene trees i-schadwed was his place. He cowde bettre than his lord purchace. Ful riche he was astored prively, His lord wel couthe he plese subtilly, 6ic To yeve and lene him of his owne good.

And have a thank, and yet a cote, and hood. This reeve sat upon a ful good stot, That was al pomely gray, and highte Scot. A long surcote of pers uppon he hade, And by his side he bar a rusty blade. Of Northfolk was this reeve of which I telle, Byside a toun men clepen Baldeswelle. And evere he rood the hyndreste of the route. Ther nas quyksilver, litarge, ne bremstoon, Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon, Ne oynement that wolde dense and byte.

That him mighte helpen of his whelkes white, Ne of the knobbes sitting on his cheekes. Wei lovede he garleek, oynouns, and ek leekes, And for to drinke strong wyn reed as blood. And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn, Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn. A fewe termes hadde he, tuo or thre. He wolde suffre for a quart of wyn A good felawe to have his [wikked syn] A twelf moneth, and excuse hun atte fulle : And prively a fynch eek cowde he pulle. Ful lowde he sang, Com hider, love, to me. This sompnour bar to him a stif burdoun, Was nevere trompe of half so gret a soun, This pardoner hadde heer as yelwe as wax, But smothe it hang, as doth a strike of flex; By unces hynge his lokkes that he hadde.

Him thoughte he rood al of the newe get, Dischevele, sauf his cappe, he rood al bare. Suche glatyng tyghtn hadde he as an hare. A vernicle hadde he sowed upon his cappe. A voys he hadde as smal as eny goot. No berd hadde he, ne nevere scholde have, As smothe it was as it were late i-schave; But of his craft, fro Berwyk into Ware, Ne was ther such another pardoner.

For in his male he hadde a pilwebeer, Which that, he seide, was oure lady veyl: He seide, he hadde a gobet of the seyl That seynt Peter hadde, whan that he wente Uppon the see, til Jhesu Crist him hente. He hadde a croys of latoun ful of stones. And in a glas he hadde pigges bones. Upon a day he gat him more moneye Than that the persoun gat in monthes tweye. And thus with feyned flaterie and japes, He made the persoun and the people his apes.

But trewely to tellen atte laste, He was in churche a noble ecclesiaste. Wei cowde he rede a lessoun or a storye. For this ye knowen also wel as I, Whoso schal telle a tale after a man, He moot reherce, as neigh as evere he can, Everych a word, if it be in his charge, Al speke he nevere so rudelyche and large; Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe, Or feyne thing, or fynde wordes newe. He may not spare, although he were his brother; He moot as wel seyn 00 word as another, Crist spak himself ful broode in holy writ.

And wel ye woote no vileinye is it Eek Plato seith, whoso that can him rede, The wordes mote be cosyn to the dede. Greet cheere made oure host us everichon. And to the souper sette he us anon; And servede us with vitaille atte beste. Strong was the wyn, and wel to drynke us leste.

In this viage, schal telle tales tweye, To Caunterburi-ward, I mene it so, And hom-ward he schal tellen othere tuo, Of aventures that whilom han bifalle. And whoso wole my juggement withseie Schal paye al that we spenden by the weye. And if ye vouchesauf that it be so, Telle me anoon, withouten wordes moo. And therupon the wyn was fet anoon; We dronken, and to reste wente echoon, Withouten eny lenger taryinge. A morwe whan the day bigan to sprynge, Up roos oure host, and was oure alther cok, And gadrede us togidre alle in a flok, And forth we riden a litel more than paas, Unto the waterynge of seint Thomas.

If even-song and morwe-song accorde, Lat se now who schal telle first a tale. As evere moot I drinke wyn or ale, Whoso be rebel to my juggement Schal paye for al that by the weye is spent. Now draweth cut, er that we ferrer twynne; He which that hath the schorteste schal bygynne. Whilom, as olde stories tellen us, Ther was a duk that highte Theseus; Of Athenes he was lord and govemour. And in his tyme swich a conquerour. That gretter was ther non under the sonne. And thus with victorie and with melodye Lete I this noble duk to Athenes ryde, 15 And al his host, in armes him biside.

I have, God wot, a large feeld to ere. And wayke ben the oxen in my plough, The remenaunt of the tale is long inough; 30 I wol not lette eek non of al this rowte, Lat every felawe telle his tale aboute, And lat see now who schal the soper wynne, And ther I lafte, I wol agayn begynne. This duk, of whom I make mencioun, 35 Whan he was come almost unto the toun. In al his wele and in his moste pryde. That in this world nys creature lyvynge. That herde such another weymentynge, And of this cry they nolde nevere stenten, 45 Til they the reynes of his bridel henten.

Som drope of pitee, thurgh thy gentilnesse, Uppon us wrecchede wommen lat thou falle. For certes,. I wrecche, which that wepe and waylle thus, Was whilom wyf to kyng Capaneus, That starf at Thebes, cursed be that day, 75 And alle we that ben in this array, And maken al this lamentacioun 1 We losten alle oure housbondes at that toun, Whil that the sege ther aboute lay.

He for despyt, and for his tyrannye, To do the deede bodyes vileinye. Whan he seyh hem so pitous and so maat, That whilom weren of so gret estat. And in his armes he hem alle up hente. And hem conforteth in ful good entente; And swor his oth, as he was trewe knight, He wolde don so ferforthly his might Upon the tyraunt Creon hem to wreke, That al the people of Grece scholde speke How Creon was of Theseus y-served, As he that hadde his deth ful wel deserved.

Unto the toun of Athenes to dwelle; And forth he rjrt; ther is no more to telle. The reede statue of Mars with spere and ta. And by his baner bom is his pynoun no Of gold ful riche, in which ther was i-bete The Minatour which that he slough in Crete. Thus ryt this duk, thus ryt this conquerour, And in his boost of chevalrie the flour, Til that he cam to Thebes, and alighte Faire in a feeld ther as he thoughte fighte.

But schortly for to speken of this thing, With Creon, which that was of Thebes kyng, He faught, and slough him manly as a knight In pleyn bataille, and putte the folk to flight; i. But schortly for to telle is myn entente. To ransake in the tas of bodyes dede Hem for to streepe of hemeys and of wede, The pilours diden businesse and cure, After the bataille and disconflture.

Nat fully quyke, ne fully deede they were, But by here coote-armures, and by here gere, The heraudes knewe hem best in special. As they that weren of the blood real Of Thebes, and of sistren tuo i-born. Out of the taas the pilours han hem torn, And han hem caried softe unto the tente Of Theseus, and he ful sone hem sente Tathenes, for to dwellen in prisoun Perpetuelly, he nolde no raunsoun.

And whan this worthy duk hath thus i-doon. He took his host, and hom he ryt anoon With laurer crowned as a conquerour; And there he lyveth in joye and in honour Terme of his lyf; what nedeth wordes moo? And in a tour, in angwisch and in woo. This Palamon, and his felawe Arcite, For everemore, ther may no gold hem quyte. To don honour to May, and for to ryse. I-clothed was sche fresshe for to devyse. And in the gardyn at the sonne upriste Sche walketh up and doun, and as hire liste Sche gadereth floures, party whyte and reede, To make a sotil gerland for hire heede, And as an aungel hevenlyche sche song.

The grete tour, that was so thikke and strong, Which of the castel was the cheef dongeoun, Ther as the knightes weren in prisoun, 20c Of which I tolde j'ow, and telle schal Was evene joynant to the gardyn wal, Ther as this Emelye hadde hire pleyynge. Bright was the sonne, and cleer that morwenynge, And Palamon, this woful prisoner, As was his wone, by leve of his gayler Was risen, and romede in a chambre on heigh, In which he al the noble citd seigh. Why crydestow?

This prisoun causede me not for to crye. But I was hurt right now thurghout myn eye Into myn herte, that wol my bane be. The faimesse of that lady that I see JPbnd in the gardyn rome to and fro, Is cause of al my crying and my wo. I not whether sche be womman or goddesse; But Venus is it, sothly as I gesse. Out of this prisoun help that we may scape. That if that Palamon was wounded sore, Arcite is hurt as moche as he, or more.

Thus art thou of my counseil out of doute. Now certes, false Arcite, thou schalt not so. I lovede hire first, and tolde the my woo As to my counseil, and my brother sworn To forthre me, as I have told biforn. For par amour I lovede hire first er thow. What wolt thou sayn? Thyn is affeccioun of holynesse, And myn is love, as to a creature; For which I tolde the myn aventure As to my cosyn, and my brother sworn. Therfore posityf lawe, and such decrd.

Is broke alday for love in ech degree. He may nought flen it, though he schulde be deed, Al be sche mayde, or widewe, or elles wyf. Perpetuelly, us gayneth no raunsoun. And therfore at the kynges court, my brother, Ech man for himself, ther is non other. Love if the list ; for I love and ay schal ; And sothly, leeve brother, this is al. So wel they lovede, as olde bookes sayn, That whan that oon was deed, sothly to telle.

His felawe wente and soughte him doun in belle; But of that story lyst me nought to write. He seyde, 'Alias the day that I was born! Than hadde I ben in blisse, and nat in woo. Oonly the sighte of hire, whom that I serve. Though that I nevere hire grace may deserve, Wolde han sufficed right ynough for me. That by som cas, syn fortune is chaungeable. Thou maist to thy desir somtyme atteyne. That may me helpe or doon confort in this. Som man desireth for to han richesse. That cause is of his morthre or gret seeknesse. We faren as he that dronke is as a mous.

A dronke man wot wel he hath an hous. But he not which the righte wey is thider, And to a dronke man the wey is slider, And certes in this world so faren we; We seeken faste after felicity. But we gon wrong ful ofte trewely. Thus may we seyen alle, and namelyche I, That wende and hadde a gret opinioun. Than hadde I ben in joye and perfyt hele, Ther now I am exiled fro my wele.

Thou maist, syn thou hast wysdom and manhede, Assemblen al the folk of oure kynrede. For as by wey of possibility Syth thou art at thi large of prisoun free, And art a lord, gret is thin avauntage, More than is myn, that sterve here in a kage. For I moot weepe and weyle, whil I lyve. That doubleth al my torment and my wo. Than is the scheep, that rouketh in the folde? Andj'et encresceth this al my penaunce, That man is bounden to his observaunce For Goddes sake to letten of his wille, Ther as a beest may al his lust fulfille.

Though in this world he have care and woo: Withouten doute it may stonde so. The answere of this I lete to divinis, But wel I woot, that in this world gret pyne is. Alias 1 I se a serpent or a theef. That many a trewe man hath doon mescheef, Gon at his large, and wher him lust may tume.

But I moot ben in prisoun thurgh Saturne, And eek thurgh Juno, jalous and eek wood, That hath destruyed wel neyh al the blood Of Thebes, with his waste walles wyde. And lete him in his prisoun stille dwelle. The somer passeth, and the nightes longe Encrescen double wise the peynes stronge Bothe of the lovere and the pivsonet. That other wher him lust may ryde or go, But seen his lady schal he nevere mo.

Whan that Arcite to Thebes comen was, Ful ofte a day he swelte and seyde alas, For seen his lady schal he nevere mo. And schortly to concluden al his wo, So moche sorwe hadde nevere creature, That is or schal whil that the world may dure. His sleep, his mete, his drynk is him byraft. That lene he wex, and drye as is a schaft. His eyen holwe, and grisly to biholde; His hewe falwe, and pale as asschen colde. And solitarye he was, and evere allone. And waillyng al the night, making his moone.

And if he herde song or instrument. Then wolde he wepe, he mighte nought be stent; So feble eek were his spiritz, and so lowe. And chaunged so, that no man couthe knowe His speche nother his vois, though men it herde. Of Hereos, but rather lik manye Engendred of humour malencolyk, Byforen in his selle fantastyk. And schortly turned was al up-so-doun Bothe habyt and eek disposicioun Of him, this woful lovere daun Arcite. What schulde I alday of his wo endite? And right anoon it ran him in his mynde. And right anon he chaungede his aray, And cladde him as a poure laborer. And al allone, save oonly a squyer, That knew his pryvet6 and al his cas, Which was disgysed povrely as he was, To Athenes is he gon the nexte way.

And schortly of this matere for to seyn, He fel in oflBce with a chamberleyn, The which that dwellyng was with Emelye. For he was wys, and couthe sone aspye Of every servaunt, which that serveth here. AyttT or two he was in this servise, Page of the chambre of Emelye the brighte; And Philostrate he seide that he highte. He was so gentil of condicioun, That thurghout al the court was his renoun.

They seyde that it were a charit6 That Theseus wolde enhaunse his degree, And putten him in worschipful servyse, Ther as he mighte his vertu excercise. And thus he fleeth as faste as evere he may. The night was schort, and faste by the day, That needes-cost he moste himselven hyde, And til a grove faste ther besyde With dredful foot than stalketh Palamoun. For schortly this was his opynyoun, That in that grove he wolde him hyde al day, And in the night then wolde he take his way To Thebes-ward, his frendes for to preye On Theseus to helpe him to werreye; And schorteliche, or he wolde lese his lyf, Or wynnen Emelye unto his wyf.

This is theflfect and his entente playn. Now wol I torne unto Arcite agayn, That litel wiste how nyh that was his care, Til that fortune hadde brought him in the snare. And Arcite, that is in the court ryal With Theseus, his squyer principal, Is risen, and loketh on the merye day.

And for to doon his observaunce to May, Remembryng on the poynt of his desir. It is ful fair a man to here him evene, For al day meteth men. Ful litel woot Arcite of his felawe, That was so neih to herknen al his sawe, For in the busche he sytteth now ful stille. And whan that he hadde herd Arcites tale. As he were wood, with face deed and pale, He sterte him up out of the bussches thikke.

And though that I no wepne have in this place, But out of prisoun am astert by grace, I drede not that outher thou schalt dye, Or thou ne schalt not loven Emelye. Ches which thou wilt, for thou schalt not asterte. What, verray fool, think wcl that love is frel And I wol love hire mawgre al thy might But, for as muche thou art a worthy knight, And wilnest to dcrreyne hire by batayle.

Have heer my trouthe, to-morwe I nyl not fayle, Withouten wityng of eny other wight. That heer I wol be founden as a knight. And bryngen hameys right inough for the; And ches the beste, and lef the worste for me. And mete and drynke this night wil I brynge Inough for the, and clothes for thy beddynge. O Cupide, out of alle charit61 O regne, that wolt no felawe han with thel Ful soth is seyd, that love ne lordschipe Wol not, his thonkes, han no felaweschipe.

Wel fynden that Arcite and Palamoun. As fer as everich of hem other knewe. Thou myghtest wene that this Palamon In his fightynge were as a wood lyoun, And as a cruel tygre was Arcite: As wilde boores gonne they to smyte, That frothen white as foom for ire wood. Up to the ancle foughte they in here blood. And in this wise I lete hem fightyng dwelle; And forth. For certeynly. A shef of pocok arwes brighte and kene Under his belte he bar ful thriftily. And in his hond he bar a mighty bowe. Of woode-craft wel cowde he al the usage. At mete wel i-taught was sche withalle; Sche leet no morsel from hire lippes falle, Ne wette hire fyngres in hire sauce deepe.

Wel cowde sche carie a morsel, and wel keepe, That no drope ne fiUe uppon hire breste. But sore wepte sche if oon of hem were deed, Or if men smot it with a yerde smerte : And al was conscience and tendre herte. Hire mouth ful smal, and therto softe and reed But sikerly sche hadde a fair forheed. It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe; For hardily sche was not undergrowe.

Ful fetys was hire cloke, as I was waar. Another Nonne with hire hadde sche, That was hire chapeleyne, and Prestes thre. Ful many a deynt6 hors hadde he in stable: And whan he rood, men mighte his bridel heere Gynglen in a whistlyng wynd as cleere, And eek as lowde as doth the chapel belle. Ther as this lord was kepere of the selle. The reule of seynt Maure or of seint Beneyt, Bycause that it was old and somdel streyt, This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace, And held after the newe world the space.

But thilke text held he not worth an oystre. And I seide his opinioun was good. Or swynke with his handes, and laboure, As Austyn byt? How schal the world be served? Lat Austyn have his swynk to him reserved. Therfore he was a pricasour aright; Greyhoundes he hadde as swifte as fowel in flight; Of prikyng and of huntyng for the hare Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare. I saugh his sieves purfiled atte honde With grys, and that the fyneste of a londe.

And for to festne his hood under his chynne He hadde of gold y- wrought a curious pynne : A love-knotte in the grettere ende ther was. His heed was balled, that schon as eny glas, And eek his face as he hadde ben anoynt. His palfrey was as broun as is a berye. In alle the ordres foure is noon that can So moche of daliaunce and fair langage. As seyde himself, more than a curat. His typet was ay farsed ful of knyfes And pynnes, for tojdve faire wyfes. His nekke whit was as the flour-de-lys. Therto he strong was as a champioun. And overal, ther as profyt schulde arisci Curteys he was, and lowely of servyse.

And rage he couthe as it were right a whelpe, In love-dayes couthe he mochel helpe. For ther he was not lik a cloysterer, With a thredbare cope as is a poure scoler, a6o But he was Hk a maister or a pope. Of double worstede was his semy-cope, That rounded as a belle out of the presse. Somwhat he lipsede, for his wantownesse, To make his Englissch swete upon his tunge; And in his harpyng, whan that he hadde sunge, His eyghen twynkled in his heed aright, As don the sterres in the frosty night. This worthi lymytour was cleped Huberd. A Marchaunt was ther with a forked herd, In motteleye, and high on horse he sat, Uppon his heed a Flaundrisch bevere hat; His botes elapsed faire and fetysly.

Wel couthe he in eschadnge scheeldes selle. This worthi man ful wel his wit bisette; Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette, So estatly was he of governaunce, With his bargayns, and with his chevysaunce. For sothe he was a worthi man withalle, But soth to sayn, I not how men him calle. A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also, That unto logik hadde'longe i-go. As lene was his hors as is a rake, And he was not right fat, I undertake; But lokede holwe, and therto soberly. Ful thredbare was his overeste courtepy, For he hadde geten him yit no benefice, Ne was so worldly for to have office.

For him was levere have at his beddes heede Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reede. Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofrej But al that he mighte of his frendes hente.

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On bookes and on lernjnig he it spente, And busily gan for the soules preye Of hem that yzS him wherwith to scoleye. Of studie took he most cure and most heede. Not 00 word spak he m6re than was neede, And that was seid in forme and reverence And schort and quyk, and ful of high sentence. Sownjmge in moral vertu was his speche. And gladly wolde he leme, and gladly teche. A Sergeant of Lawe, war and wys, That often hadde ben atte parvys, Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. By patente, and by pleyn commissioun; For his science, and for his heih renoun, Of fees and robes hadde he many oon.

In termes hadde he caas and domes alle, That fro the tyme of kyng William were falle. Therto he couthe endite, and make a thing, Ther couthe no wight pynche at his writyng; And every statute couthe he pleyn by roote. Of his complexioun he was sangwyn. An houshaldere, and that a gret, was he ; Seynt Julian he was in his country.

Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe, And many a brem and many a luce in stewe. Woo was his cook, but-if his sauce were Pojoiaunt and scharp, and redy al his gere. At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire. An anlas and a gipser al of silk Heng at his girdel, whit as morne mylk. A schirreve hadde he ben, and a countour; Was nowher such a worthi vavasour.

For catel hadde they inough and rente. And eek here wyfes wolde it wel assente; And elles certeyn were thei to blame. And han a mantel riallyche i-bore. He rood upon a rouncy, as he couthe, In a gowne of faldyng to the kncC A daggere hangyng on a laas hadde he Aboute his nekke under his arm adoun. The hoote somer hadde maad his hew al broun; And certeinly he was a good felawe.

Of nyce conscience took he no keep. Hardy he was, and wys to undertake ; With many a tempest hadde his herd ben schake. He knew wel alle the havenes, as thei were, From Gootlond to the cape of Fynystere, And every cryke in Bretayne and in Spayne; His barge y-cleped was the Maudelayne. Fol redj hadde he his apotecarieSy To sende him dragges, and his ktoaries.

For ech of hem made other for to wjnne; Here frendschipe nas not newe to. For gold in phisik is a cordial, Theifore he lovede gold in speciaL A good WiF was ther of byside Bathe, Bat sche was somdel deef, and that was skathe. Bold was hire face, and fair, and reed of hewe. Sche cowde moche of wandryng by the weye. Gat-tothed was sche, sothly for to seye.


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Uppon an iiriblere esily sche sat, ' Ywympled wel, and on hire heed an hat As brood as is a bokeler or a targe; A foot-mantel aboute hire hipes large. And on hire feet a paire of spores scharpe. In felaweschipe wel cowde sche lawghe and carpe. Of remedyes of love sche knew parchaunce, For of that art sche couthe the olde daunce. A good man was ther of religioun. He cowde in litel thing han suffisaunce. Wyd was his parische, and houses fer asonder, But he ne lafte not for reyne ne thonder, In siknesse nor in meschief to visite The ferreste in his parissche, moche and lite, Uppon his feet, and in his hond a staf.

This noble ensample to his scheep he ydS, That first he wroughte,,and afterward he taughte, Out of the gospel he tho wordes caughte, And this figure he addede eek therto, That if gold ruste, what schal yren doo? He sette not his benefice to hyre. And leet his scheep encombred in the myre, And ran to Londone, unto seynte Poules, To seeken him a chaunterie for soules, Or with a bretherhede to ben withholde; But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde, So that the wolf ne made it not myscarye ; He was a schepherde and no mercenarie.

He waytede after no ponipe and reverence, Ne makede him a spiced conscience. But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, He taughte, but first he folwede it himselve. His tythes payede he ful faire and wel, Bothe of his owne swynk and his catel. The Mellere was a stout carl for the nones, Ful big he was of braun, and eek of boones ; That prevede wel, for overal ther he cam.

At wrastlynge he wolde have alwey the ram. He was schort schuldred, brood, a thikke ktiarre, Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre, Of breke it at a rennyng with his heed. His herd as bny sowe or fox was reed, And therto brood, as though it were a spade. Upon the cop right of his nose he hade A werte, and theron stood a tuft of heres, Reede as the bersties of a sowes eeres. His nose-thurles blake were and wyde. A swerd and bokeler baar he by his side, His mouth as wyde was as a gret forneys. A baggepipe wel cowde he blowe and sowne, And therwithal he broughte us out of towne.

A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple, Of which achatours mighten take exemple For to be wyse in beyying of vitaille. Now is not that of God a ful fair grace, That such a lewed mannes wit schal pace The wisdom of an heep of lernede men? The Reeve was a sklendre colerik man, His berd was schave as neigh as evere he can. His heer was by his ejes ful round i-shorh. His top was docked lyk a preest bifom.

Studies in Sumerian Belles-Lettres

Wei cowde he kepe a gerner and a bynne ; Ther was non auditour cowde on him wynne. Wei wiste he by the droughte, and by the reyn, The yeeldyng of his seed, and of his greyn. Ther nas baillif, ne herde, neoother hyne, That he ne knew' his sleighte and his covjoie ; They were adrad of him, as of the dethe.

With grene trees i-schadwed was his place. He cowde bettre than his lord purchace. Ful riche he was astored prively, His lord wel couthe he plese subtilly, 61 c To yQYQ and lene him of his owne good, And have a thank, and yet a cote, and hood. In j'outhe he lerned hadde a good mester; He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter. This reeve sat upon a ful good stot, That was al pomely gray, and highte Scot A long surcote of pers uppon he hade, And by his side he bar a rusty blade.

Of Northfolk was this reeve of which I telle, Byside a toun men clepen Baldeswelle. That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynes face, For sawceflem he was, with tyghtn narwe. With skalled browes blake, and piled herd ; Of his visage children weren aferd. Ther nas quyksilver, litarge, ne' bremstoon, Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon, Ne oynement that wolde dense and byte, That him mighte helpen of his whelkes white, Ne of the knobbes sittyng on his cheekes.

Wei lovede he garleek, oynouns, and ek leekes. And for to drinke strong wyn reed as blood. And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn, Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn. A fewe termes hadde he, tuo or thre. And if he fond owher a good felawe, He wolde techen him to han non awe In such caas of the archedeknes curs,. But wel I woot he lyede right in dede; Of cursyng oghte ech gulty man him drede; For curs wol slee right as assoillyng saveth; And also war him of a significaviL In daunger hadde he at his owne gise The j'onge gurles of the diocise, And knew here counseil, and was al here reed.

With him ther rood a gentil Pardoner Of Rouncivale, his frend and his comper, That streyt was comen from the court of Rome. Ful lowde he sang, Com hider, love, to me. Ful thinne it lay, by culpons on and oon. For it was trussed up in his walet Him tboughte he rood al of the newe get, Dischevele, sauf his cappe, he rood al bare. Suche glaiyng eyghen hadde he as an hare. A vemicle hadde he sowed upon his cappe. A voys he hadde as smal as eny goot. No herd hadde he, ne nevere scholde have. As smothe it was as it were late i-schave; But of his craft, fro Berwyk into Ware, Ne was ther such another pardoner.

For in his male he hadde a pilwebeer, Which that, he seide, was oure lady veyl: He seide, he hadde a gobet of the seyl That seynt Peter hadde, whan that he wente Uppon the see, til Jhesu Crist him hente. He hadde a croys of latoun fill of stones. And in a glas he hadde pigges bones. And thus with feyned flaterie and japes, He made the persoun and the people his apes. But trewely to tellen atte laste, He was in churche a noble ecclesiaste. Wei cowde he rede a lessoun or a storye. But altherbest he sang an ofifertorie; For wel he wyste, whan that song was songe.

He moste preche, and wel afiyle his tonge. For this ye knowen also wel as I, Whoso schal telle a tale after a man, He moot reherce, as neigh as evere he can, Everych a word, if it he in his charge, Al speke he nevere so rudelyche and large; Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe, Or fefne thing, or fynde wordes newe. Greet cheere made cure host us everichon, And to the souper sette he us anon; And servede us with vitaille atte beste. Strong was the wyn, and wel to drynke us leste.

And that he wolde ben oure governour, And of onre tales jugge and reportour, And sette a souper at a certeyn prys; And we wolde rewled ben at his devys, In heygh and lowe; and thus by oon assent We been acorded to his juggement. And therupon the wyn was fet anoon ; We dronken, and to reste wente echoon, Withouten eny lenger tarjdnge. If even-song and morwe-song accorde, Lat se now who schal telle first a tale. As evere moot I drinke wyn or ale, Whoso be rebel to my juggement Schal paye for al that by the weye is spent Now draweth cut, er that we ferrer twynne; He which that hath the schorteste schal bygynne.

Now draweth cut, for that is myn acord. Whilom, as olde stories tellen us, Ther was a duk that highte Theseus; Of Athenes he was lord and governour, And in his tyme swich a conquerour, That gretter was ther non under the sonne. And thus with victorie and with melodye Lete I this noble duk to Athenes ryde, 15 And al his host, in armes him biside. This duk, of whom I make mencioun, 35 Whan he was come almost unto the toun, In al his wele and in his moste pryde.

That herde such another weymentynge. And of this cry they nolde nevere stenten, 45 Til they the reynes of his bridel henten. Som drope of pitee, thurgh thy gentilnesse, Uppon us wrecchede wommen lat thou falle. That noon estat assureth to ben weel. He for despyt, and for his tyrannye, To do the deede bodyes vileinye, Of alle oure lordes, whiche that ben i-slawe, 85 Hath alle the bodies on an heep y-drawe. That whilom weren of so gret estat. And in his armes he hem alle up hente. Thus ryt this duk, thus ryt this conquerour, And in his boost of chevalrie the flour, Til that he cam to Thebes, and alighte Faire in a feeld ther as he thoughte fighte.

But schortly for to speken of this thing, With Creon, which that was of Thebes kyng. He faught, and slough him manly as a knight In pleyn bataille, and putte the folk to flight; i. To don obsequies, as was tho the gyse. But schortly for to telle is myn entente. To ransake in the tas of bodyes dede Hem for to streepe of hemeys and of wede, The pilours diden businesse and cure, After the bataille and disconfiture.

Nat fully quyke, ne fully deede they were, But by here coote-armures, and by here gere. The heraudes knewe hem best in special, ; As they that weren of the blood real Of Thebes, and of sistren tuo i-born. Out of the taas the pilours han hem torn, And han hem caried softe unto the tente Of Theseus, and he ful sone hem sente Tathenes, for to dwellen in prisoun Perpetuelly, he nolde no raunsoun. And whan this worthy duk hath thus i-doon. And in a tour, in angwisch and in woo. This Palamon, and his felawe Arcite, For everemore, ther may no gold hem quyte.

I-clothed was sche fresshe for to devyse. The grete tour, that was so thikke and strong. Why crydestow? But I was hurt right now thurghout myn eye Into myn herte, that wol my bane be. Out of this prisoun help that we may scape. For to be fals, ne for to be traytour To me, that am thy cosyn and thy brother I-sworn ful deepe, and ech of us to other. That nevere for to deyen in the payne, Til that the deeth departe schal us twayne, Neyther of us in love to hyndren other, Ne in non other cas, my leeve brother; But that thou schuldest trewely forthren me In every caas, and I schal forthren the.

Thus art thou of my counseil out of doute. Now certes, false Arcite, thou schalt not so. I lovede hire first, and tolde the my woo As to my counseil, and my brother sworn To forthre me, as I have told biforn. Or elles art thou fals, I dar wel sayn. For par amour I lovede hire first er thow. What wolt thou sayn? Is broke alday for love in ech degree. And ,eek it is nat likly al thy lyf To stonden in hire grace, no more schal I; For wel thou wost thyselven verraily. Perpetuelly, us gayneth no raunsoun. We stryve, as dide the houndes for the boon. And bar awey the boon bitwixe hem bothe.

And therfore at the kynges court, my brothea, Ech man for himself, ther is non other. Love if the Kst; for I love and ay schal; And sothly, leeve brother, this is al. Here in this prisoun moote we endure, And everych of us take his aventure. And for to pleye, as he was wont to do, For in this world he lovede no man so: And he lovede him as tendrely agayn. So wel they lovede, as olde bookes sayn, That whan that oon was deed, sothly to telle, His felawe wente and soughte him doun in helle ; But of that story lyst me nought to write.

Than hadde I ben in blisse, and nat in woo. Ck nly the sighte of hire, whom that I sepe, Though that I nevere hire grace may deserve, Wolde han sufficed right ynough for me. For possible is, syn thou hast hire presence. That by som cas, syn fortune is chaungeable. Thou maist to thy desir somtyme atteyne. That ther nys erthe, water, fyr, ne eyr, Ne creature, that of hem maked is. That may me helpe or doon confort in this.

Som man desireth for to han richesse. That cause is of his morthre or gret seeknesse. And som man wolde out of his prisoun fayn, That in his hous is of his meynd slayn. We faren as he that dronke is as a mous. A dronke man wot wel he hath an hous. Thus may we seyen alle, and namelyche I, That wende and hadde a gret opinioun. That yil I mighte skape fro prisoun, Than hadde I ben in joye and perfyt hele, Ther now I am exiled fro my wele. Thow walkest now in Thebes at thi large, And of my woo thou j'evest litel charge. For as by wey of possibility, Syth thou art at thi large of prisoun free, And art a lord, gret is thin avauntage, More than is myn, that sterve here in a kage.

Than is the scheep, that rooketh in the folde? And dwelleth eek in prisoun and arreest. And hath seknesse, and greet adversity. And ofte tymes gilteles, pardd What govemaunce is in this prescience, That gilteles tormenteth innocence? Though in this world he have care and woo: Withouten doute it may stonde so.

I se a serpent or a theef, y That many a trewe man hath doon mescheef, Gon at his large, and wher him lust may tume. But I moot ben in prisoun thurgh Satume, And eek thurgh Juno, jalous and eek wood, That hath destroyed wel neyh al the blood Of Thebes, with his waste walles wyde. And Venus sleeth me on that other syde For jelousye, and fere of him Arcyte.

The somer passeth, and the nightes longe Encrescen double wise the peynes stronge 4S0 Bothe of the lovere and the prisoner. I noot which hath the wofuUere myster. That other wher him lust may ryde or go, But seen his lady schal he nevere mo. And schortly to concluden al his wo, So moche sorwe hadde nevere creature, That is or schal whil that the world may dure. His sleep, his mete, his drynk is him byraft, That lene he wex, and drye as is a schaft His eyen holwe, and grisly to biholde;. And if he herde song or instrument.

Then wolde he wepe, he mighte nought be stent; So feble eek were his spiritz, and so lowe. And chaunged so, that no man couthe knpwe His speche nother his vois, though men it herde. And schortly turned was al up-so-doun Bothe habyt and eek disposicioun Of him, this woful lovere daun Arcite. What schulde I alday of his wo endite? And saugh his visage al in another kynde. And right anoon it ran him in his mynde. That sith his face was so disfigured Of maladie the which he hadde endured.

He mighte wel, if that he bar him lowe, Lyve in Athenes evere more unknowe,. And right anon he chaungede his aray, And cladde him as a poure laborer. And al allone, save oonly a squyer, That knew his pryvet6 and al his cas, Which was disgysed povrely as he was, To Athenes is he gon the nexte way. And schortly of this matere for to seyn, He fel in office with a chamberleyn, The which that dwellyng was with Emelye. For he was wys, and couthe sone aspye Of every servaunt, which that serveth here.

A j'eer or two he was in this servise, Page of the chambre of Emelye the brighte; And Philostrate he seide that he highte. That of his chambre he made him a squyer. In derknesse and horrible and strong prisoun This seven j'der hath seten Palamoun, Forpyned, what for woo and for distresse ; Who feleth double sorwe and heyynesse But Palamon? And thus he fleeth asi faste as evere he may.

The night was schort, and faste by the day. That needes-cost he moste himselven hyde, And til a grove faste ther besyde With dredful foot than stalketh Palamoun. For schortly this was his opynyoun, That in that grove he wolde him hyde al day, And in the night then wolde he take his way To Thebes-ward, his frendes for to preye On Theseus to helpe him to werreye; And schorteliche, or he wolde lese his lyf, Or wynnen Emelye unto his wyf. This is thetfect and his entente playn. Now wol I tome unto Arcite agayn, That litel wiste how nyh that was his care, JTil that fortune hadde brought him in the snare.

The busy larke, messager of daye, Salueth in hire song the morwe graye ; And fjrry Phebus ryseth up so brighte, fes That al the orient laugheth of the lighte, And with his stremes dryeth in the greves The silver dropes, hongyng on the leeves. And in a path he rometh up and doun, Ther as by aventure this Falamoim Was in a busche, that no man mighte him see, For sore afered of his deth was he.

Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite: God wot he wolde han trowed it ful lite. It is ful fair a man to here him evene, For al day meteth men at unset stevene. Ful litel woot Arcite of his felawe, That was so neih to herknen al his sawe. For in the busche he sytteth now ful stille. Whan that Arcite hadde romed al his fille, And songen al the roundel lustily. Into a studie he fel al sodeynly, As don thes loveres in here queynte geeres.

Now in the croppe, now doun in the breres, Now up, now doun, as boket in a welle,. Right so gan gery Venus overcaste The hertes of hire folk, right as hire day Is gerful, right so chaungeth sche array. Whan that Arcite hadde songe, he gan to sike, And sette him doun withouten eny more: ' Alas! Of his lynage am I, and his ofspring By verray lyne, as of the stok ryal : And now I -am so caytyf and so thral, That he that is my. Save oonly me, and wrecched Palamoun, That Theseus martyreth in prisoun. And over al this, to sleen me utterly, Love hath his fyry dart so brennyngly I-styked thurgh my trewe careful herte.

That schapen was my deth erst than my scherte. And though that I no wepne have in this place, But out of prispun am astert by grace, I drede not that outher thou schalt dye, Or thou ne schalt not loven Emelye. Ches which thou wilt, for thou schalt not asterte. Whan he him knew, and hadde his tale herd. As fers as lyoun pullede out a swerd, And seide thus: 'By God that sit above, Nere it that thou art sik and wood for love, And eek that thou no wepne hast in this place, Thou schuldest nevere out of this grove pace.

That thou ne schuldest deyen of myn bond. What, verray fool, think wel that love is frel And I wol love hire mawgre al thy might. But, for as muche thou art a worthy knight, And wilnest to derreyne hire by batayle. That heer I wol be founden as a knight. And bryngen hameys right inough for the; And ches the beste, and lef the worste for me.

And mete and drynke this night wil I brynge Inough for the, and clothes for thy beddynge. And if so be that thou my lady wynne. And sle me in this woode ther I am inne, Thou maist wel han thy lady as for me. O Cupjde, out of alle charitd! Ful soth is seyd, that love ne lordschipe Wol not, his thonkes, han no felaweschipe. Wel fynden that Arcite and Palamoun. Arcite is riden anon unto the toun, And on the morwe, or it were dayes light, Ful prively two barneys hath he dight, Bothe suffisaunt and mete to darreyne The bataylle in the feeld betwix hem tweyne.

And on his hors, allone as he was born, He caryeth al this barneys him byforn; And in the grove, at tyme and place i-set. This Arcite and this Palamon ben met. Tho chaungen gan the colour in here face. Right as the honter in the regne of Trace That stondeth at the gappe with a spere, Whan honted is the lyoun or the here, And hereth him come ruschyng in the greves, And breketh bothe bowes and the leves, And thinketh, 'Here cometh my mortel enemy, Withoute faile, he mot be deed or I; For eyther I mot slen him at the gappe, Or he moot sleen me, if that me myshappe :' So ferden they, in chaungyng of here hewe, As fer as everich of hem other knewe.

Every ch of hem help for to armen other. As frendly as he were his owne brother; And after that with scharpe speres stronge They fojrnen ech at other wonder longe. Thou myghtest wene that this Palamon In his fightynge were as a wood lyoun, And as a cruel tygre was Arcite: As wilde boores gonne they to smyte, That frothen white as foom for ire wood.

Up to the ancle foughte they in here blood. This mene I now by mighty Theseus, That for to honten is so desirous, And namely at the grete hert in May, That in his bed ther daweth him no day, That he nys clad, and redy for to ryde With honte and horn, and houndes him byside. That it is al his joye and appetyt To been himself the grete hertes bane, For after Mars he serveth now Diane.

Cleer was the day, as I have told or this, And Theseus, with alle joye and blys, With his Ypolita, the fayre queene, And Emelye, clothed al in greene, On honting be thay riden ryally. And to the grove, that stood ful faste by, In which ther was an hert as men him tolde, Duk Theseus the streyte wey hath holde. And to the launde he rydeth him ful righte. For thider was the hert wont have his flighte. And over a brook, and so forth in his weye. And whan this duk was come unto the launde. We haR the deth deserved bothe tuo.

Tuo woful wrecches been we, tuo kaytyves. Or sle him first; for, though thou knowe it lyte, This is thy mortal fo, this is Arcite, That fro thy lond is banyscht on his heed, For which he hath deserved to be deed. For this is he that com unto thi gate And seyde, that he highte Fhilostrate. And thou hast maked him thy cheef squyer.

And this is he that loveth Emelye. For sith the day is come that I schal dye, I make pleynly my confessioun, That I am thilke woful Falamoun, That hath thy prisoun broke wikkedly. And sawe here bloody woundes wyde and sore; And alle cryden, bothe lasse and more, 'Have mercy, Lord, upon us wommen alle I' And on here bare knees adoun they falle, And wolde han kist his feet ther as he stood.

And though he first for ire quok and sterte. And eek his herte hadde compassioun Of wommen, for they wepen evere in oon; And in his gentil herte he thoughte anoon. And softe unto himself he seyde: 'Fy Upon a lord that wol han no mercy, But ben a lyoun bothe in word and dcde, To hem that ben in repentaunce and drede, As wel as to a proud despitous man, That wol maynteyne that he first bigani That lord hath litel of discrecioun, That in such caas can no divisioun; But weyeth pride and humblesse after oon.

And spak these same wordes al on highte. Lo her this Arcite and this Palamoun, That quytly weren out of my prisoun, And mighte han lyved in Thebes ryally. And witen I am here mortal enemy. Now loketh, is nat that an heih folye? Who may not ben a fool, if that he love? Byhold for Goddes sake that sit above, Se how they blede I be they nought wel arrayed? And therfore, syn I knowe of loves peyne. And wot how sore it can a man distreyne. As he that hath ben caught ofte in his laas, I you foryeve al holly this trespaas, At requeste of the queen that kneleth heere.

And eek of Emelye, my suster deere. And ye schul bothe anon unto me swere. Armed for lystes up at alle rightes, Al redy to derrayne hire by bataylle. The lystes schal I maken in this place. Who spryngeth up for joye but Arcite? Who couthe telle, or who couthe it endite, The joye that is maked in the place Whan Theseus hath don so fair a grace? But down on knees wente every maner wight, And thanken him with al here herte and miht, And namely the Thebans ofte sithe.

And thus with good hope and with herte blithe They take here leve, and hom-ward gonne they ryde To Thebes with his olde walles wyde. The circuit a myle was aboute, Walled of stoon, and dyched al withoute. Est-ward ther stood a gate of marbel whit, West-ward right such another in the opposit. And schortly to conclude, such a place Was non in erthe as in so litel space; For in the lond ther nas no crafty man, That geometiye or arsmetrike can, Ne portreyour, ne kervere of ymages. And for to don his ryte and sacrifise, He est-ward hath upon the gate above, In worschipe of Venus, goddesse of love, Don make an auter and an oratorye; And west-ward, in the mynde and in memorye Of Mars, he hath i-maked such another, That coste largely of gold a fother.

Hath Theseus doon wrought in noble wise. The schap, the contenaimce and the figures, That weren in these oratories thre. And a cokkow sittyng on hire hand; Festes, instrumentz, caroles, daunces, Lust and array, and alle the circumstaunces Of love, whiche that I rekned have and schal, By ordre weren peynted on the wal. Sufficeth heere ensamples oon or tuo, And though I couthe rekne a thousend mo.

The statue of Venus, glorious for to see, Was naked fletyng in the large see, And fro the navele doun al covered was With wawes grene, and brighte as eny glas. And on hire heed, ful semely for to see, A rose garland fresch and wel smellyng,' Above hire heed hire dowves flikeryng.

Biforn hire stood hire sone Cupido, Upon his schuldres wynges hadde he two; And blynd he was, as it is ofte scene; A bowe he bar and arwes brighte and kene. The portreiture, that was upon the wal ino Withinne the temple of mighty Mars the reede? First on the wal was peynted a forest, In which ther dwelleth neyther man ne best, With knotty knarry bareyne trees olde.

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For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noon, Thurgh which men mighten any light discerne. Every piler the temple to susteene Was tonne greet, of iren bright and schene. Under the whel ful lowe he lay adoun. The harbour, and the bocher; and the smyth That forgeth scharpe swerdes on his stith. Depeynted was the slaughtre of Julius, f grete Nero, and of Anthonius ; be that thilke tyme they were unborn,.

The statue of Mars upon a carte stood, Armed, and lokede grym as he were wood; And over his heed ther schynen two figures Of sterres, that been cleped in scriptures, That oon Puella, that other Rubeus. This god of armes was arrayed thus: — A wolf ther stood byforn him at his feet With eyen reede, and of a man he eet ; With sptyl pencel depeynted was this storie, In 'recioutyng of Mars and of his glorie. Now to the temple of Dyane the chaste As schortly as I can I wol me haste.

To telle j'oual the descripcioun. Of huntyng and of schamefast chastity. Ther saugh I Atheon an hert i-maked. For vengeaunce that he saugh Dyane al naked; 1 - ' "ii. And Meleagre, and. Ther saugh I many another wonder story e, The whiche me list not drawe to memorye. This goddesse on an hert ful hyhe seet, With smale houndes al aboute hire feet, And undernethe hire feet sche hadde a moone, Wexyng it was, and schulde wane soone.

With bowe in honde, and arwes in a cas. A womman travailyng was hire biforn, But, for hire child so longe was unborn, Ful pitously Lucyna gan sche calle. Wd armed for the werre at alle rightes. And sikerly ther trowede many a man That nevere, siththen that the world bigan, As for to speke of knighthod of here hond, i As fer as Grod hath maked see o;: lond, Nas, of so fewe, so noble a compainye. That loveth paramours, and hath his might, Were it in Engelond, or elleswhere, i They wolde, here thankes, wilne to be there.

To fighte for a lady; benedtcitel It were a lusty sighte for to see.

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Armed were they, as I have you told, Everich after his opinioun. Ther maistow sen comyng with Palamoun. Of fyne rubies and of dyamauntz. An hundred lordes hadde he in his route Armed ful wel, with hertes sterne and stoute. With Arcita, in stories as men fynde. His coote-armure was of cloth of Tars, Cowched with perles whyte and rounde and grete. His sadel was of brend gold newe ybete ; A mantelet upon his schuldre hangynge Bret-ful of rubies reede, as fir sparklynge.

His herd was wel bygonne for to sprynge; His voys was as a trumpe thunderynge. Upon his heed he werede of laurer grene A garlond fresch and lusty for to sene. Were gadred in this noble compainye, For love, and for encrees of chivalrye. Aboute this kyng ther ran on every part Ful many a tame lyoim and lepart. My thought, and seest what harmes that I fele, Considre al this, and rewe upon my sore, As wisly as I schal for evermore, Emforth my might, thi trewe servamit be.

But I wolde have fully possessioun Of Emelye, and dye in thi servise; Fynd thou the manere how, and in what wyse I recche nat, but it may better be. To have victorie of hem, or they of me. So that I have my lady in myne armes. I For though so be that Mars is god of armes, JPbure vertu is so gret in hevene above. That if you list I schal wel han my love. Thy temple wol I worschipe everemo. And on thin auter, wher I ryde or go, I wol don sacrifice, and fyrres beete.

Than praye I the, to-morwe with a spere That Arcita me thurgh the herte here. For though the signe schewede a delay, jTet wiste he wel that graunted was his boone; And with glad herte he wente him horn ful soone. Smokyng the temple, ful of clothes faire, This Emelye with herte debonaire Hire body wessch with water of a welle; But how sche dide hire rite I dar nat telle.

Tuo fjo-es on the auter gan sche beete, And dide hire thinges, as men may biholde In Stace of Thebes, and thise bokes x lde. I am, thou wost, yii of thi compainye, A mayde, and love huntyng and venerye, And for to walken in the woodes wylde, , And noVight to ben a wyf, and ben with chylde. For tho thre formes that thou hast in the. And eek Arcite, that loveth me so sore. Or if my destynd be schapen so, That I schal needes have on of hem two. As sende me him that most desireth me. Bihold, goddesse of clene chastity. The bittre teeres that on my cheekes falle. Syn thou art mayde, and kepere of us alle, c My maydenhode thou kepe and wel conserve, And whil I lyve a mayde I wil the serve.

And therwithal Dyane gan appeere, With bowe in hond, right as an hunteresse. Thou schalt ben wedded unto oon of tho That han for the so moche care and wo; But unto which of hem I may nat telle. The fyres which that on myn auter brenne Schuln the declaren, or that thou go henne, Thyn aventure of love, as in this caas. And seide, 'What amounteth this, alias! Dyane, and in thi disposicioun. This is theffect, ther nys no more to saye. The nexte houre of Mars folwynge this, Arcite unto the temple walked is Of fierse Mars, to doon his sacrifise, With alle the rites of his payen wise. For thilke peyne, and thiike hoote fyre, In which thou whilom brentest for desjrre, For thilke sorwe that was in thin herte, Have reuthe as wel upon my pe3aies smerte.

Then help me, lord, to-morwe in my bataylle, For thilke fyr that whilom brente the, As wel as thilke fir now brenneth me; And do that I to-morwe have victorie. Myn be the travaille, and thin be the glorie. Thy soverein temple wol I most honouren Of any place, and alway most labouren In thy plesaunce and in thy craftes stronge. And in thy temple I wol my baner honge. And alle the armes of my compainye; And everemore, linto that day I dye, Eteme fyr I wol bifom the fynde. The rynges on the temple dore that honge, And eek the dores, clatereden ful faste, Of which Arcita somwhat hym agaste. With othre rites mo; and atte laste The statue of Mars bigan his hauberk rynge.

And thus with joye, and hope wel to fare, Arcite anoon unto his inne is fare. As fayn as fowel is of the brighte sonne. And right anon such stryf ther is bygonne For thilke grauntyng, in the hevene above, Bitwixe Venus the goddesse of love. And Mars the steme god armypotente, That Jupiter was busy it to stente ; Til that the pale Satumus the colde, That knew so manye of aventures olde, Fond in his olde experience an art, That he ful sone hath plesed every part.

As soth is sayd, eelde hath gret avantage, In eelde is bothe wisdom and usage; Men may the olde at-renne, but nat at-rede. Satume anon, to stynte stryf and drede, Al be it that it is agayn his kynde. Of al this stryf he gan remedye fynde. Whiles I dwelle in the signe of the lyoun. Now wep nomore, I schal don diligence That Palamon, that is thyn owne knight, Schal have his lady, as thou hast him hight.

I am thin ayel, redy at thy wille; Wep thou nomore, I wol thi lust fulfiUe. Gret was the feste in Athenes that day, And eek the lusty sesoun of that May Made every wight to ben in such plesaunce. That al that Monday jousten they and daunce. And spenden hit in Venus heigh servise. That in the bataille blowe bloody sownes; The paleys ful of peples up and doun, Heer thre, ther ten, holdyng here questioun, Dyvynyng of thise Thebane knightes two.

Somme seyden thus, somme seyde it schal be so; Somme heelde with him with the blake herd, Somme with the balled, somme with the thikke herd; Somme sayde he lokede giym and he wolde fights He hath a sparth of twenti pound of wighte. Thus was the halle ful of divynynge, Longe after that the sonne gan to springe. The peple preseth thider-ward ful sone Him for to seen, and doon heigh xeverence, And eek to herkne his nesrana tus sentence. An heraud on a skafifold made an hoo, Til al the noyse of the peple was i-do; And whan he sawh the peple of noyse al stille, Tho schewede he the mighty dukes wille.

No man therfore, up peyne of los of lyf, No maner schot, ne poUax, ne schort knyf Into the lystes sende, or thider brynge j Ne schort swerd for to stoke, with point bytynge No man ne drawe, ne here by his side. Ne no man schal unto his felawe ryde But oon cours, with a scharpe ygrounde spere; Foyne if him lust on foote, himself to were.

And he that is at meschief, schal be take. And nat slayn, but be brought unto the stake, That schal ben ordeyned on eyther syde ; But thider he schal by force, and ther abyde. And if so falle, the cheventein be take On eyther side, or elles sle his make, No lenger schal the turneyinge laste. So lowde cride thei with meiy stevene: ' God save such a lord that is so good. He wilneth no destruccioun of blood I' Up gon the trompes and the melodye. Whan set was Theseus ful riche and hye, Ypolita the queen and Emelye, And other ladyes in degrees aboute. In al the world, to seeken up and doun, So evene withouten variacioun, Ther nere suche compainyes tweye.

For ther nas noon so wys that cowthe seye, That any hadde of other avauntage Of worthinesse, ne of estaat, ne age, So evene were they chosen for to gesse. And in two renges faiie they hem dresse. Up sprlngen speres twenty foot on highte; Out goon the swerdes as the silver brighte. With mighty maces the bones thay to-breste. He thurgh the thikkeste of the throng gan threste. Ther stomblen steedes stronge, and doun goon alle.

He foyneth on his feet with his tronchoun, And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun. Another lad is on that other syde. And som tyme doth hem Theseus to reste, Hem to refreissche, and drinken if hem leste. Ful ofte a-day han thise Thebanes two Togidre y-met, and wrought his felawe woo; Unhorsed hath ech other of hem tweye. So cruel on the hxinte, as is Arcite For jelous herte upon this Palamoun: Ne in Behnarye ther nis so fel lyoun. That hunted is, or for his hunger wood, Ne of his preye desireth so the blood. As Palamon to slen his foo Arcite.

Som tyme an ende ther is of eveiy dede; For er the sonne unto the reste wente, The stronge kyng Emetreus gan hente This Palamon, as he faught with Arcite, And made his swerd depe in his flessch to byte; And by the force of twenti is he take Unyolden, and i-drawe unto the stake.

And in the rescous of this Palamoun The stronge kyng Ligurge is bom adoun; And kjmg Emetreus icx al his strengthe Is bom out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe. So hitte him Palamon er he were take ;. But al for nought, he was brought to the stake. By force, and eek by composicioxm. Who sorweth now but'woful Palamoun, That moot no more gon agayn to fighte? Arcjrte of Thebes schal have Emelye, That by his fortune hath hire faire i-wonne. What can now fayre Venus doon above?

This fierse Arcyte hath of his helm ydoon, And on a courser for to schewe his face, He priketh endelonge the large place, Lokyng upward upon his Emelye; And sche agayn him caste a frendlych eyghe, For wommen, as to speken in comune, Thay folwen al the favour of fortune And was al his cheere, as in his herte.

As blak he lay as eny col or crowe, So was the blood y-ronnen in his face. Anon he was y-bom out of the place With herte soor, to Theseus paleys. Tho was he corven out of his hameys, And in a bed y-brought ful faire and blyve. For he wasjit in memorye and on lyve, And alway crying after Emelye. Al be it that this aventure was falle, He nolde nought disconforten hem alle. Men seyde eek, that Arcita schal nought dye, He schal ben heled of his maladye.

That with a spere was thirled his brest boon. To othre woundes, and to broken armes, Some hadde salves, and some hadde charmes, Fermacyes of herbes, and eek save They dronken, for they wolde here lymes have. For which this noble duk, as he wel can, Conforteth and honoureth every man. And made revel al the longe, night, Unto the straunge lordes, as was right. Ne ther was holden no disconfytynge. But as a jufetei or a touraeyinge ; For sothly ther was no disconfiture. The pypes of bis longes gonne to swelle. And every lacerte in his brest adoun ts schent with venym and corrupcioun.

Him gayneth nother, for to gete his lyf, Vomyt upward, ne dounward laxatif; Al is to-brosten thilke regioun. Nature hath now no dominacioun. Farwel phisik; go ber the man to chirche. For which he sendeth after Emelye, And Palamon, that was his cosyn deere. Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf! What is this world? Now with his love, now in his colde grave Allone withouten eny compainye. Farwel, my swete fool myn Emelye!


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For love of God, and herkneth what I seye. And Jupiter so wis my sowle gye, To speken of a servaunt proprely. And yet, moreover, for in his armes two The vital strengthe is lost, and al ago. Only the intellect, withouten more, That dwellede in his herte sik and sore, Gan fayllen, when the herte felte deth, Dusken his eyghen two, and faylleth breth. As I cam nevere, I can nat tellen when Therfore I stynte, I nam no dyvynistre; Of soules fynde I not in this registre, Ne me ne list thilke opynyons to telle Of hem, though that thei writen wher they dwelle.

Arcyte is cold, ther Mars his soule gye; Now wol I speke forth of Emelye. What helpeth it to taryen forth the day, To tellen how sche weep bothe eve and morwe? That atte laste certeynly they dye. Infynyte been the sorwes and the teercs Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeeres, In al the toun, for deth of this Theban. To Troye ; alias! Duk Theseus, with al his busy cure, Cast now wher that the sepulture Of good Arcyte may best y-maked be. His officers with swifte feet they renne, And ryde anon at his comaundemenL And after this, Theseus hath i-sent After a beer, and it al overspradde With cloth of gold, the richeste that he hadde.

And of the same suyte he cladde Arcyte; Upon his hondes hadde he gloves white ; Eek on his heed. He leyde him bare the visage on the beere, Therwith he weep that pit6 was to heere. Tho cam this woful Theban Palamoun, With flotery herd, and ruggy asshy heeres, In clothes blake, y-dropped al with teeres; And, passjmg othere of wepyng, Emelye, The rewfulleste of al the compainye.

That trapped were in steel al gliterynge, And covered with the armes of daun Arcyte. That sprad was al with blak, and wonder hye , Right of the same is al the strete i-wrye. That with his grene top the hevene raughte. Of stree first ther was leyd fiil many a loode. But schortly to the poynt than wol I wende, And maken of my longe tale an ende. By processe and by lengthe of certeyn yeres Al stynted is the moomyng and the teeres Of Grekes, by oon general assent.

Than semede me ther was a parlement At Athenes, upon certeyn poyntz and cas; Among the whiche poyntes yspoken was To han with certeyn contrees alliaunce, And han fully of Thebans obeissaunce. For which this noble Theseus anon Let senden after gentil Palamon, Unwist of him what was the cause and why; But in his blake clothes sorwefully He cam at his comaundement in hye. Tho sente Theseus for Emelye. Whan they were set, and bust was al the place, And Theseus abyden hadde a space Or eny word cam fro his wyse brest, His eyen sette he ther as was his lest, And with a sad visage he sykede stille, And after that right thus he seide his wille.

Than may men by this ordre wel disceme, That thHke moevere stable is and eterne. That spices of thinges and progressiouns Schullen endure by successiouns. And nat eterne be withoute lye This maistow understande and sen at eye. Yet atte laste wasted is the tree. Fix, wasteth it, as it Kth by the weye. The grete townes seen we wane and wende. Ther helpeth naught, al goth that ilke weye. What maketh this but Jupiter the kyng? The which is prynce and cause of alle thing, Convertyng al unto his propre welle, Frofti which it is deryved, soth to telle.

And gladder oughte his freend ben of his deth.