Canterbury Tales and Other Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer (always you kirsty moseley .txt) 📖

strength Is borne out of his saddle a sword’s length, So hit him Palamon ere he were take:

But all for nought; he was brought to the stake: His hardy hearte might him helpe naught, He must abide when that he was caught, By force, and eke by composition*. *the bargain Who sorroweth now but woful Palamon

That must no more go again to fight?

And when that Theseus had seen that sight Unto the folk that foughte thus each one, He cried, Ho! no more, for it is done!

I will be true judge, and not party.

Arcite of Thebes shall have Emily,

That by his fortune hath her fairly won.”

Anon there is a noise of people gone,

For joy of this, so loud and high withal, It seemed that the listes shoulde fall.

 

What can now faire Venus do above?

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

But weepeth so, for wanting of her will, Till that her teares in the listes fill fall She said: “I am ashamed doubteless.”

Saturnus saide: “Daughter, hold thy peace.

Mars hath his will, his knight hath all his boon, And by mine head thou shalt be eased soon.”

The trumpeters with the loud minstrelsy, The heralds, that full loude yell and cry, Be in their joy for weal of Dan* Arcite. *Lord But hearken me, and stinte noise a lite, What a miracle there befell anon

This fierce Arcite hath off his helm y-done, And on a courser for to shew his face

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

Looking upward upon this Emily;

And she again him cast a friendly eye

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

They follow all the favour of fortune), And was all his in cheer*, as his in heart. *countenance Out of the ground a fire infernal start, From Pluto sent, at request of Saturn

For which his horse for fear began to turn, And leap aside, and founder* as he leap *stumble And ere that Arcite may take any keep, care He pight* him on the pummel** of his head. pitched *top That in the place he lay as he were dead.

His breast to-bursten with his saddle-bow.

As black he lay as any coal or crow,

So was the blood y-run into his face.

Anon he was y-borne out of the place

With hearte sore, to Theseus’ palace.

Then was he carven* out of his harness. cut And in a bed y-brought full fair and blive *quickly For he was yet in mem’ry and alive,

And always crying after Emily.

 

Duke Theseus, with all his company,

Is come home to Athens his city,

With alle bliss and great solemnity.

Albeit that this aventure was fall, befallen He woulde not discomforte* them all *discourage Then said eke, that Arcite should not die, He should be healed of his malady.

And of another thing they were as fain*. glad That of them alle was there no one slain, All were they sorely hurt, and namely** one, although *especially That with a spear was thirled* his breast-bone. *pierced To other woundes, and to broken arms,

Some hadden salves, and some hadden charms: And pharmacies of herbs, and eke save sage, Salvia officinalis They dranken, for they would their lives have.

For which this noble Duke, as he well can, Comforteth and honoureth every man,

And made revel all the longe night,

Unto the strange lordes, as was right.

Nor there was holden no discomforting, But as at jousts or at a tourneying;

For soothly there was no discomfiture, For falling is not but an aventure*. *chance, accident Nor to be led by force unto a stake

Unyielding, and with twenty knights y-take One person all alone, withouten mo’,

And harried* forth by armes, foot, and toe, *dragged, hurried And eke his steede driven forth with staves, With footmen, bothe yeomen and eke knaves, servants It was *aretted him no villainy:* counted no disgrace to him

There may no man clepen it cowardy. call it cowardice

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

To stenten* alle rancour and envy, — stop The gree as well on one side as the other, *prize, merit And either side alike as other’s brother: And gave them giftes after their degree, And held a feaste fully dayes three:

And conveyed the kinges worthily

Out of his town a journee* largely *day’s journey And home went every man the righte way, There was no more but “Farewell, Have good day.”

Of this bataille I will no more indite But speak of Palamon and of Arcite.

 

Swelleth the breast of Arcite and the sore Increaseth at his hearte more and more.

The clotted blood, for any leache-craft* surgical skill Corrupteth and is in his bouk y-laft* left in his body

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

Nor drink of herbes may be his helping.

The virtue expulsive or animal,

From thilke virtue called natural,

Nor may the venom voide, nor expel

The pipes of his lungs began to swell

And every lacert* in his breast adown sinew, muscle Is shent with venom and corruption. destroyed Him gaineth neither, for to get his life, *availeth Vomit upward, nor downward laxative;

All is to-bursten thilke region;

Nature hath now no domination.

And certainly where nature will not wirch,* work Farewell physic: go bear the man to chirch. *church This all and some is, Arcite must die.

For which he sendeth after Emily,

And Palamon, that was his cousin dear, Then said he thus, as ye shall after hear.

 

“Nought may the woful spirit in mine heart Declare one point of all my sorrows’ smart To you, my lady, that I love the most: But I bequeath the service of my ghost To you aboven every creature,

Since that my life ne may no longer dure.

Alas the woe! alas, the paines strong

That I for you have suffered and so long!

Alas the death, alas, mine Emily!

Alas departing* of our company! *the severance Alas, mine hearte’s queen! alas, my wife!

Mine hearte’s lady, ender of my life!

What is this world? what aske men to have?

Now with his love, now in his colde grave Al one, withouten any company.

Farewell, my sweet, farewell, mine Emily, And softly take me in your armes tway, For love of God, and hearken what I say.

I have here with my cousin Palamon

Had strife and rancour many a day agone, For love of you, and for my jealousy.

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

To speaken of a servant properly,

With alle circumstances truely,

That is to say, truth, honour, and knighthead, Wisdom, humbless*, estate, and high kindred, *humility Freedom, and all that longeth to that art, So Jupiter have of my soul part,

As in this world right now I know not one, So worthy to be lov’d as Palamon,

That serveth you, and will do all his life.

And if that you shall ever be a wife,

Forget not Palamon, the gentle man.”

 

And with that word his speech to fail began.

For from his feet up to his breast was come The cold of death, that had him overnome*. *overcome And yet moreover in his armes two

The vital strength is lost, and all ago*. *gone Only the intellect, withoute more,

That dwelled in his hearte sick and sore, Gan faile, when the hearte felte death; Dusked* his eyen two, and fail’d his breath. *grew dim But on his lady yet he cast his eye;

His laste word was; “Mercy, Emily!”

His spirit changed house, and wente there, As I came never I cannot telle where.<84>

Therefore I stent*, I am no divinister**; refrain *diviner Of soules find I nought in this register.

Ne me list not th’ opinions to tell

Of them, though that they writen where they dwell; Arcite is cold, there Mars his soule gie. guide Now will I speake forth of Emily.

 

Shriek’d Emily, and howled Palamon,

And Theseus his sister took anon

Swooning, and bare her from the corpse away.

What helpeth it to tarry forth the day, To telle how she wept both eve and morrow?

For in such cases women have such sorrow, When that their husbands be from them y-go, gone That for the more part they sorrow so, Or elles fall into such malady,

That at the laste certainly they die.

Infinite be the sorrows and the tears

Of olde folk, and folk of tender years, In all the town, for death of this Theban: For him there weepeth bothe child and man.

So great a weeping was there none certain, When Hector was y-brought, all fresh y-slain, To Troy: alas! the pity that was there, Scratching of cheeks, and rending eke of hair.

“Why wouldest thou be dead?” these women cry, “And haddest gold enough, and Emily.”

No manner man might gladden Theseus,

Saving his olde father Egeus,

That knew this worlde’s transmutatioun, As he had seen it changen up and down, Joy after woe, and woe after gladness; And shewed him example and likeness.

“Right as there died never man,” quoth he, “That he ne liv’d in earth in some degree, rank, condition Right so there lived never man,” he said, “In all this world, that sometime be not died.

This world is but a throughfare full of woe, And we be pilgrims, passing to and fro: Death is an end of every worldly sore.”

And over all this said he yet much more To this effect, full wisely to exhort

The people, that they should them recomfort.

Duke Theseus, with all his busy cure, care *Casteth about*, where that the sepulture deliberates

Of good Arcite may best y-maked be,

And eke most honourable in his degree.

And at the last he took conclusion,

That there as first Arcite and Palamon Hadde for love the battle them between, That in that selve* grove, sweet and green, *selfsame There as he had his amorous desires,

His complaint, and for love his hote fires, He woulde make a fire*, in which th’ office *funeral pyre Of funeral he might all accomplice;

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

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

In culpons*, well arrayed for to brenne**. logs *burn His officers with swifte feet they renne run And ride anon at his commandement.

And after this, Duke Theseus hath sent After a bier, and it all oversprad

With cloth of gold, the richest that he had; And of the same suit he clad Arcite.

Upon his handes were his gloves white, Eke on his head a crown of laurel green, And in his hand a sword full bright and keen.

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

Therewith he wept, that pity was to hear.

And, for the people shoulde see him all, When it was day he brought them to the hall, That roareth of the crying and the soun’.

Then came this woful Theban, Palamon,

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

In clothes black, y-dropped all with tears, And (passing over weeping Emily)

The ruefullest of all the company.

And inasmuch as the service should be in order that

The more noble and rich in its degree, Duke Theseus let forth three steedes bring, That trapped were in steel all glittering.

And covered with the arms of Dan Arcite.

Upon these steedes, that were great and white, There satte folk, of whom one bare his shield, Another his spear in his handes held;