The Knight's Tale

PART I


  Once upon a time, old stories tell us,
There was a duke whose name was Theseus.                    860
Of Athens he was lord and governor,
And in his time was such a conqueror
That none was greater underneath the sun,
So many wealthy countries he had won.
What with his wisdom and his chivalry,                      865
He conquered all the realm of Femeny,
Which then was known as Scythia, and married
The queen named Hippolyta, whom he carried
Back home with him amid much pageantry
And glorious ceremony. Emily,                               870
Her younger sister, also went along.
And so in victory and glorious song
I leave this noble duke as he is bound
For Athens, with his warriors all around.
And if there weren't so much to hear, I now                 875
Would fully have related for you how
That land was won, the realm of Femeny,
By Theseus and by his chivalry;
I'd tell you of the battle that was waged
As Athens and the Amazons engaged,                          880
And of the siege in which was finally seen
Defeat for Scythia's fair and hardy queen,
And of the feast upon their wedding day
And the rousing welcome home. But as I say,
I must forbear describing all that now.                     885
I have, God knows, a lot of field to plow,
The oxen in my yoke have got it rough.
And since the rest of my tale's long enough,
Not holding back the group is my concern;
Let every fellow tell his tale in turn                      890
And let us see who shall the supper win.
Where I left off, then, I'll once more begin.
  This duke of whom I spoke, when he almost
Had reached the gates of town with all his host,                       
In such high spirits and so full of pride,                  895
Became aware, as he looked to the side,
That kneeling by the road there was in rue
A company of ladies, two by two,
One pair behind another, in black dress.
So woeful were the cries of their distress                  900
No living creature ever heard before
Such lamentation uttered. Furthermore
They did not cease until his horse was idle,
For they had grabbed the reins upon its bridle.
  "What folk are you, against our joy vying,                905
Disturbing our homecoming with your crying?"
Said Theseus. "So envious can you be
That you protest the honor given me?
Or who mistreated you, who has offended?
And tell me if the damage can be mended,                    910
And why it is in black you are arrayed."
  The eldest lady answered, though she swayed
Half in a swoon of such deathlike degree
It was a pity both to hear and see.
"My lord," she said, "whom Fortune chose to give            915
The victory, as conqueror to live,
Your glory and honor are not our grief,
It's mercy that we're seeking and relief.
Have mercy on our woe and our distress!
Some drop of pity, through your gentleness,                 920
Upon us wretched women please let fall.
In truth, my lord, there's none among us all
Who hasn't been a duchess or a queen;
Now we are wretches. As may well be seen,
Thanks be to Fortune's faithless wheel, there's no          925
One whose well-being is assured. And so,                  
My lord, that in your presence we might be,
The temple of the goddess Clemency
Is where we've waited for a whole fortnight.
Help us, my lord, if it be in your might.                   930
  "The wretch I am, now weeping, wailing thus,
Was once the wife of King Capaneus,
Who died at Thebes--and curs�d be that day!
And all of us you see in this array
Are crying so, our spirits beaten down,                     935
Because we lost our husbands in that town
During the time that under siege it lay.
And yet this old Creon--ah, wellaway!--
Who is in Thebes, now lord of all the city,
Iniquitous and ireful, without pity,                        940
Has for despite and by his tyranny
Inflicted on their bodies villainy:
The corpses of our lords, all of them slain,
He threw into a heap where they have lain,
For he gives no assent, will not allow                      945
That they be burnt or buried, rather now
He makes hounds eat them, such is his despite."
  And with that word, they cried without respite
And then they groveled, weeping piteously.
"Have mercy for us wretched," was their plea,               950
"Your heart be open to our grief today."
  This gentle duke dismounted right away
With pitying heart when hearing these words spoken.
He felt as if his heart were nearly broken,
To see so pitiful, in such a strait,                        955
Those who had once been of such great estate.
He took them in his arms then and consoled them;
He comforted as best he could, and told them
That by his oath, that of a faithful knight,
He would do all that lay within his might                   960
Upon this tyrant vengefulness to wreak,
That afterwards all those in Greece might speak
Of how Creon by Theseus was served
His just deserts, the death he so deserved.
  Immediately, without the least delay,                     965
His banner he displayed and rode away
For Thebes, with all his host on every side;
No nearer Athens did he choose to ride
Nor take his ease for even half a day,
But slept that night somewhere along the way.               970
The queen was not among his company,
But with her fair young sister Emily
Was sent forth into Athens, there to dwell
While he rode on his way. No more to tell.
  The red image of Mars with spear and targe                975
So shone upon his banner white and large
That up and down the meadows seemed to glitter;
A pennon by his banner was aflitter
In richest gold, upon it, as was meet,
The Minotaur that he had slain in Crete.                    980
Thus rode this duke, this conqueror, in power,
The men with him of chivalry the flower,
Until he came to Thebes, there to alight
Upon a field where he was set to fight.
But only speaking briefly of this thing,                    985
He fought and slew Creon, the Theban king,
In open battle, as befits a knight
So manly. Creon's men he put to flight.
The city by assault he won thereafter
And tore it down, each wall and beam and rafter;            990
And to the ladies he restored again
The bones of all their kinsmen who'd been slain,
For obsequies then custom of the day.
But it would take too long here to delay
By telling of the din, the lamentation                      995
Made by these ladies during the cremation,
And honor paid, all that one could confer,
By Theseus, the noble conqueror,
To the ladies when on their way they went.
To speak with brevity is my intent.                        1000
  This worthy Theseus, when he had slain
Creon and captured Thebes, chose to remain
Upon the field that night to take his rest,
With all that country under his behest.
  To rummage through the heap of Theban slain,             1005
The corpses' clothes and armor to retain,
The pillagers worked hard and carefully
After the battle and the victory.
It so befell that in the heap they found,
With grievous wounds there lying on the ground,            1010
Two youthful knights who side by side had fought,
Identical their arms and richly wrought.
As for their names, Arcite was that of one,
The other knight was known as Palamon;
Not yet alive nor dead did they appear,                    1015
But by their coat of arms and by their gear
The heralds knew that these two specially
Were members of the royal family
Of Thebes, two sisters' sons. Their finders then
Removed them from the heap where they had been,            1020
And had them carried gently to the tent
Of Theseus, who promptly had them sent
To Athens, there to dwell perpetually
In prison--to no ransom he'd agree.
  And when this worthy duke thus held his sway,            1025
He took his host and rode home straightaway.
As conqueror with laurel he was crowned,
And lived in joy and honor, much renowned
Throughout his life. What more is there to know?
And in a tower, in anguish and woe,                        1030
Are Palamon and his good friend Arcite
Forevermore. No gold could end their plight.
  So year by year it went, and day by day,
Until one morning it befell in May
That Emily, a fairer sight to see                          1035
Than lilies on a stalk of green could be,
And fresher than the flowers May discloses--
Her hue strove with the color of the roses
Till I know not the fairer of the two--
Before daylight, as she was wont to do,                    1040
Had roused herself and was already dressed.
For May will leave no sluggard nightly rest;
The season seems to prick each gentle heart,
It causes one out of his sleep to start
And says, "Arise, it's time to pay respect!"               1045
And this caused Emily to recollect
The honor due to May and to arise.
She brightly dressed, a pleasure to the eyes.
Her hair was braided in one yellow tress
A good yard down her back, so I would guess.               1050
And in the garden, as the sun arose,
She wandered up and down, and, as she chose,
She gathered flowers, white as well as red,
To make a dainty garland for her head;
And like that of an angel was her song.                    1055
  The tower, of great size and thick and strong,
Which was the castle's major dungeon--there
The knights were held in prison and despair,
As I have said, though more will soon befall--
Was built adjacent to the garden wall                      1060
Where Emily was then about her play.
The sun was bright, and clear the early day,
As Palamon, in woe with no reprieve,
As was his wont--the jailer gave him leave--
Was roaming in a chamber of great height                   1065
From which all of the city was in sight,
As was the green-branched garden near the tower
Where Emily, as radiant as a flower,
Was in her walk and roaming here and there.
So Palamon, this captive in despair,                       1070
Was pacing in this chamber to and fro,
And to himself complaining of his woe.
That he was born he often said "Alas!"
  And then by chance or fate it came to pass
That through the window (thick with many a bar             1075
Of iron, as great and squared as girders are)
He cast his eyes upon fair Emily.
He blanched and cried an "Ah!" of such degree
It was as if he'd been pierced through the heart.
And at this cry Arcite rose with a start                   1080
And said, "My cousin, what is ailing you
That you're so pale, a deathlike thing to view?
Why did you cry? Has someone done you wrong?
For God's love, it's the patient gets along
In prison, that's the way it has to be.                    1085
We owe to Fortune this adversity.
Some wicked aspect or configuration
Of Saturn with some certain constellation
Gave this to us, for all we might have sworn.
So stood the heavens when we two were born;                1090
We must endure it, to be short and plain."
  But Palamon replied, "You have a vain
Imagination, cousin, truthfully,
To be expressing such a thought to me.
It wasn't prison that caused me to cry.                    1095
I just received a shot, struck through my eye
Right to my heart, and it will finish me.
The fairness of that lady that I see
In yonder garden, roaming to and fro,
Is cause of all my crying and my woe.                      1100
I don't know if she's woman or a goddess,
But truly it is Venus, I would guess."
Then Palamon fell down upon his knees
And said this prayer: "Dear Venus, if you please
To be transfigured so, to be seen by                       1105
A woeful, wretched creature such as I,
Out of this prison help us to escape.
But if it is my fate, one taken shape
By eternal word, to die in this fashion,
Upon our royal house have some compassion,                 1110
For we are brought so low by tyranny."
  And with that word, Arcite then chanced to see
This lady who was roaming to and fro;
And at the sight, her beauty hurt him so
That if the wound to Palamon was sore,                     1115
Arcite himself was hurt as much or more.
And with a sigh he then said piteously,
"By such fresh beauty I'm slain suddenly,
The beauty of her roaming in that place!
Unless I have her mercy by her grace                       1120
That I at least may see her in some way,
I am but dead, there is no more to say."
  When Palamon heard this, with angry eye
He turned to look at Arcite and reply,
"You speak such words in earnest or in play?"              1125
  "In earnest," Arcite said, "is what I say!
God help me, I've no mind for joking now."
  And Palamon at this then knit his brow.
"It does you little honor," he replied,
"To be a traitor to me, to have lied                       1130
To me, as I'm your cousin and your brother;
For we have sworn, each of us to the other,
That never we, on pain of death--until
Death do us part--would do each other ill,
In love one to be hindrance to the other                   1135
Or in whatever case, beloved brother;
That you would further me in what I do
In every case, and I would further you;
This was your oath, as well as mine. I know
That you would never dare deny it's so.                    1140
You then are in my counsel, there's no doubt,
And yet now falsely you would go about
To love my lady, whom I love and serve
And always will until I die. What nerve!
False Arcite, you would surely not do so;                  1145
I loved her first, and told you of my woe
As to my counsel, to the one who swore
To further me, as I have said before.
And so, my cousin, you're bound as a knight
To help me, if it lies within your might,                  1150
Or else be false, and such I dare to say."
  But Arcite proudly answered in this way:
"It's you instead who would be false to me,
And false you are, I tell you utterly.
For par amour, I loved her first, not you.                 1155
What can you say? You don't know which is true,
She's 'woman or a goddess'! You profess
Affection felt in terms of holiness,
But I feel love that's for a creature, such
That I've already said to you as much,                     1160
As to my brother, one who to me swore.
But let's suppose you did love her before:
Have you not heard the learned man's old saw
That 'Who shall give a lover any law'?
Love, by my crown, is law that's greater than              1165
All law that Nature gives to earthly man;
That's why, for love, decrees or laws men pass
Are broken every day in every class.
A man must love despite himself; albeit
His death may be the cost, he cannot flee it,              1170
Be she a maiden, widow, or a wife.
But it's not likely that in all your life
You'll stand once in her grace, nor myself either;
You know as well as I it shall be neither,
For you and I have been forever damned                     1175
To prison without ransom. We have shammed,
We strive just as the hounds did for the bone:
They fought all day to find the prize was gone,
For while they fought a kite came winging through
And bore away the bone from twixt the two.                 1180
And therefore at the royal court, my brother,
It's each man for himself and not another.
Love if you like, I love and always will,
And truly, brother, that is that. Be still;
Here in this prison we must not succumb                    1185
But each take his own chances as they come."
  The strife between the two was long and great;
Had I the time, more of it I'd relate.
But to the point. It happened that one day
(To tell it all as briefly as I may)                       1190
Perotheus, a worthy duke who'd been
A friend of Theseus since way back when
The two of them were children, came to pay
His friend a visit and to have some play
In Athens, as he'd often done before.                      1195
In all this world he loved no fellow more
Than Theseus, who cherished him the same;
They loved so greatly, so the old books claim,
That when one died, as truthfully they tell,
The other went to look for him in hell--                   1200
But that's a tale I don't wish to recite.
Duke Perotheus also loved Arcite,
Whom he'd known in Thebes for many a year.
At last, when Perotheus had bent his ear
With the request, Duke Theseus agreed                      1205
To free Arcite from prison; he was freed
Without a ransom and allowed to go
Where he desired--on one condition, though.
  The understanding, plainly to relate,
With Theseus regarding Arcite's fate                       1210
Was that if Arcite ever should be found,
By day or night or any time, on ground
Of any country ruled by Theseus,
And he were caught, it was accorded thus:
He was to lose his head then by the sword.                 1215                             
There was no action Arcite could afford
Except to make for home a speedy trek;
One must beware when he must pledge his neck.
  How great a sorrow Arcite had to bear!
His heart was smitten with deathlike despair;              1220
He wept and wailed, and pitifully he cried,
And even contemplated suicide.
He said, "Alas, the day that I was born!
Worse than before in prison I'm forlorn.                    
It's now my fate eternally to dwell                        1225
Not as in purgatory but in hell.
I wish I'd never known Perotheus!
I'd still be dwelling with Duke Theseus,
Be fettered in his prison--not like this,
Not in this woe. Then I would be in bliss;                 1230
The sight of her, the lady whom I serve,
Although her grace I never may deserve,
Would have sufficed and been enough for me.
O my dear cousin Palamon," said he,
"You've won in this adventure, that's for sure.            1235
In prison blissfully you may endure--
In prison? Surely not! In paradise!
Fate's passed to you the dice to seek the prize,
You have her sight, which I no more shall see.
Since you're so near her presence, it may be,              1240
As you're a knight, a worthy one and able,
That by some chance--as Fortune's so unstable--
You may attain your great desire in time.
But I, who am exiled to other clime
And barren of all grace, in such despair                   1245
That neither earth nor water, fire nor air,
Nor any creature that is made of these,
Can ever give me any help or ease--
Well should I die without a hope, in sadness.
Farewell my life, my pleasure, and my gladness!            1250
  "Alas, why do folks so complain about
The providence of God or feel put out
By Fortune, when they're often given more
In many ways than they could bargain for
Themselves? A man's desire for wealth may well             1255
Leave that man sick or murdered. From his cell
A prisoner may long for freedom, then
At home have his own servants do him in.
So many ills befall us in this way,
We don't know really that for which we pray.               1260
We fare as one who's drunken as a mouse:
Although a drunkard knows he has a house,
He doesn't know the right way there. The road
Is slippery for a man who drinks his load.
So fare we in this world, most certainly;                  1265
We search with vigor for felicity,
But it's so true we often go awry.
We all can vouch for that, and namely I,
Who had this great opinion overall
That if I could escape that prison wall                    1270
I then could live in perfect health and bliss--
From which I have been exiled now for this.
Since I may never see you, Emily,
I'm good as dead, there is no remedy."
  Now Palamon, meanwhile, was still confined,              1275
And when he learnt Arcite was gone, he whined
And wailed with so much sorrow it resounded
Throughout the tower. Utterly confounded,
He wet the mighty fetters round each shin
With bitter, salty tears in his chagrin.                   1280
"Alas," said he, "my cousin, dear Arcite,
The fruit is yours, God knows, you've won the fight!
To walk at large in Thebes now you may go
And give but little thought to all my woe;
And you may, in your wise and knightly manner,             1285
Assemble all your kinsmen to your banner
And on this city make a sharp attack,
By treaty or by Fortune to go back
To Thebes with her, your lady and your wife,
For whom I now must forfeit here my life.                  1290
When one weighs every possibility--
Since you are now at large, from prison free,
And are a lord--you have a great advantage.
I'm dying in a cage, what can I manage?
Here I must weep and wail long as I live                   1295
With all the woe that prison has to give,
And with the heartache love has given me
That doubles my torment and misery."
The fire of jealousy with sudden start
Was raging in his breast, and caught his heart             1300
So madly he was whiter to behold 
Than box-tree or the ashes dead and cold.
  He said then, "O cruel gods, eternal tribe
Who rule us by your word, and who inscribe
Upon a tablet made of adamant                              1305
Your every judgment and eternal grant!
Why is it mankind in esteem you hold
More than the sheep that cowers in the fold?
For man is slain like any other beast,
Or dwells in prison, not to be released,                   1310
Confronted with adversity and illness--
And often, by my faith, when he is guiltless.
  "What is the reason in your prescience
That torment's the reward for innocence?
And only adding more to all my strife                      1315
Is that a man must live a moral life
In God's name, and keep rein upon his will,
While every beast may all his lust fulfill.
And when a beast is dead, he has no pain,
While man in death must still weep and complain            1320
Though in this world he had his share of woe.
Without a doubt that's how it stands, although
I'll leave it to the clergy to explain.
How well I know this world is full of pain.
Alas, I see a serpent or a thief,                          1325
From whose deceit the righteous seek relief,
Go freely as he pleases on his way;
Yet I'm a captive, under Saturn's sway
And that of Juno, who in jealousy 
And wrath has well nigh cut off totally                    1330
The blood of Thebes, laid waste the walls once grand.
And Venus slays me, on the other hand,
With jealousy and fear of this Arcite."
  On Palamon I'll cease now if I might
And leave him in his prison still to dwell,                1335
That further word on Arcite I may tell.
  The summer passed. The winter nights so long
Increased twofold the pains that were so strong
In both lover and prisoner. I know
Not which one had to bear the greater woe:                 1340
For Palamon, with brevity to tell,
Was damned to life inside a prison cell,
In iron fetters until he be dead;
Yet banishment had fallen on the head
Of Arcite, from that land he had to flee                   1345
And nevermore might he his lady see.
  I now will ask you lovers, who's the one
Who has it worse, Arcite or Palamon?
For one may see his lady day by day
But must in prison waste his life away;                    1350
The other may go riding where he please,
But now his lady nevermore he sees.
Make your own judgment on it, if you can.
I will go on, meanwhile, as I began.


PART II


  When back to Thebes Arcite had made his way,             1355
With many an "Alas!" he pined each day,
For nevermore his lady might he see.
To summarize his woe with brevity,
No creature's had such sorrow, to be sure,
Nor will as long as this world may endure.                 1360
Of sleep and meat and drink he had so little
That lean and dry he grew, shaftlike and brittle;
His eyes were hollow, ghastly to behold,
His sallow skin like ashes pale and cold.
And he kept to himself, always alone,                      1365
And all through every night he'd wail and moan.
And when he heard a song or instrument,
He wept, shed tears that nothing could prevent.
So feeble were his spirits and so low
That, if he spoke, no man would ever know                  1370
Him by his speech or voice, he had so changed.
He moodily behaved, as if deranged
Not only by lovesickness (hereos
Is what it's called) but mania that grows
From melancholic humor that arises                         1375
From that front brain cell where one fantasizes.
In short, all was in overturned position
In both the habit and the disposition
Of this despairing lover, Sir Arcite.
  Should I go on all day about his plight?                 1380
Now when he had endured a year or so
This cruel torment, all this pain and woe
At home in Thebes (as you have heard me say),
One night he dreamt while in the bed he lay
That winged Mercury came to appear                         1385
Before him, bidding him to be of cheer.
His sleep inducing wand he held upright,
A hat was on his head, his hair was bright;
As Arcite noticed, Mercury was dressed
Just as when Argus he induced to rest.                     1390
The god said this: "To Athens you shall go,
Where destined is an end to all your woe."
With that, Arcite woke with a start and said,
"No matter what sore pain may lie ahead,
Right now to Athens truly I must fare;                     1395
Though death be dreaded, I'll be seeing there
My lady whom I love and serve, and I
Shall not, in her dear presence, fear to die."
  He picked up a large mirror then to see
The great change in his color, the degree                  1400
To which his face looked like another kind.
Immediately the thought ran through his mind
That since his face had been disfigured so
By all that he had suffered, he could go
And live in Athens, in some lowly guise,                   1405
And who he was no one would realize;
Then he could see his lady every day.
  And so at once he changed his knight's array
For that of a poor laborer for hire;
Then all alone (save only for a squire                     1410
Who knew his secret, all there was to know,
And was disguised in poverty also),
He went to Athens by the shortest way.
Then to the royal court he went one day
And offered at the gate his worker's hands,                1415
To drag and draw, to follow all commands.
  To tell you what occurred without ado,
He got a job with an attendant who
Was dwelling in the house of Emily;
For he was shrewd and very quick to see                    1420
Which of them served his lady there. Well could
He bear the water and he hewed as well the wood,
For he was young and equal to the task,
Big-boned and strong. What any man might ask,
Whatever one devised, Arcite could do.                     1425
  He served in this way for a year or two,
The chamber-page of lovely Emily,
And said his name was Philostrate. And he
Was twice as loved as any other man
Of equal rank at court, for in this span                   1430
His character was of such noble sort
That he won quite a name throughout the court.
As charity, they said, it would be noted
If Theseus would have the man promoted
To higher station, so that servicewise                     1435
His virtue he might fully exercise.
And so it was in time his fame had sprung
Out of his gentle deeds and pleasant tongue
Until the duke took him and set him higher,
To serve him in his chamber as a squire,                   1440
And gave him gold to keep himself in style.
From his own country, too, from while to while
Men brought to him a secret increment
That honestly and slyly would be spent,
That none might wonder how he had so much.                 1445
He lived this way three years, his bearing such,
In time of peace as well as time of war,
That there was none whom Theseus loved more.
I now leave Arcite in this blissful state
That more on Palamon I may relate.                         1450
  In dark and solid prison, horrid, drear,
Now Palamon endures a seventh year
And pines away in sorrow and distress.
Who feels such double wounds, such heaviness,
As Palamon whom love destroys so,                          1455
Almost out of his wits through all his woe?
And Palamon's a captive, be it clear,
Perpetually, not only for a year.
  O who could rhyme in English properly
His martyrdom? It's not I truthfully,                      1460
So I'll pass on as briefly as I may.
  Now in the seventh year (the old books say,
With more detail, it was the third night in
The month of May), the time came finally when,
Whether it was by chance or destiny--                      1465
As when a thing's determined, it shall be--
With a friend's help, soon after midnight fell,
Palamon escaped from his prison cell
And fled the town as fast as he could go.
He'd given his jailer drink, and it was so                 1470
Well mixed--a honeyed wine, along with some
Narcotics, like fine Theban opium--
That all that night, as hard as men could shake him,
The jailer slept and no one could awake him,
While Palamon fled swiftly as he may.                      1475
The night was short, and fast would come the day,
When at all costs he knew he'd have to hide.
And so a grove that stood off to the side
He fearfully approached. It was his plan,
Which I will tell as briefly as I can,                     1480
Inside that grove to hide himself all day,
Then at the fall of night to make his way
To Thebes. There all his friends he would implore
To help him march on Theseus in war,
And, to be brief, unless he lose his life,                 1485
To win the lovely Emily as wife.
That was his whole intention, short and plain.
  And now to Arcite I'll return again,
Who little knew how nigh had grown his care
Till Fortune was to catch him in her snare.                1490
  The busy lark, the messenger of day,
Salutes now with her song the morning gray,
And fiery Phoebus rises up so bright
Till all the east is laughing in his light,
The beams of which dry every bush where cleaves            1495
The silver droplets, hanging on the leaves.
And Arcite, who is in the royal court
As Theseus's squire of good report,
Has risen and looks on the merry day.
To give the honor that was due to May                      1500
(Recalling, too, his object of desire),
He set out on a courser quick as fire
Into the fields to have a little play.
A mile or two from court he rode his way
Till he came to the grove of which I spoke.                1505
By chance along that grove his course he broke
To make himself a garland from the growth,
With woodbine or with hawthorn leaf or both,
While in the sunshine singing heartily:
"O May, with flowers and with greenery,                    1510
You are so welcome, fresh and fairest May!
I hope that I may get some green today!"
Down from his courser, with a lusty heart
Into the grove he promptly made his start
And roamed a path wherever it would chance.                1515
Now Palamon, as was the happenstance,
Was hidden in a bush where none could see,
As fearful for his life as he could be.
He'd no idea that this could be Arcite;
God knows, he had no cause to think it might,              1520
But it's been truly said down through the years,
"The field is blest with eyes, the wood has ears."
It's best a fellow always be discreet,
For when they least expect men often meet.
Little did Arcite know that near him there                 1525
Was his old friend to hear him sing his air,
For he sat in the bush completely still.
  When of his roaming Arcite had his fill
And he had sung his rondel lustily,
Into a muse he fell then suddenly                          1530
As lovers do, so variable their mood--
First treetop high, then in the briers they brood,
Now up, now down, like buckets in a well;
Like on a Friday, truly I can tell,
At first it shines, then rains start coming fast.          1535
Just so can fickle Venus overcast 
The hearts of lovers; Friday is her day,
And just as she keeps changing her array
Few Fridays are like other days, for sure.
  When he had sung, Arcite became demure,                  1540
He sighed and sat down without further song.
"Alas," said he, "the day I came along!
O Juno, how much longer will it be
That you wage war on Thebes with cruelty?
Alas! so much confusion is brought on                      1545
The royal blood of Cadmus, Amphion--
Of Cadmus, who's the one who first began
To build the town of Thebes, and he's the man
Who was the first the city crowned as king;
I'm one of his descendants, his offspring,                 1550
By true descent I'm of the royal stock;
Yet I'm just like a slave sold on the block,
For he who is my mortal enemy
Is whom I serve as squire so wretchedly.
And evermore does Juno cause me shame,                     1555
For I dare not to tell them my own name;
For whereas I was once known as Arcite,
I now am Philostrate, not worth a mite.
Alas, you evil Mars! Juno, alas!
Your wrath has caused our house to all but pass,           1560
There's left but me and Palamon (in woe,
As in the dungeon he's still martyred so).
And more than that, to slay me utterly,
Love with his fiery dart so burningly
Has struck my loving heart with such a hurt,               1565
My death was knit before this very shirt.
You've slain me with your eyes, fair Emily,
You are the cause I die, that's all there be.
And for the rest of all my earthly care
I wouldn't give one weed the field may bear                1570
If but to please you I could have a chance."
And with that word he fell down in a trance
Where long he lay, till rising with a start.
  This Palamon, who felt that through his heart
A cold sword suddenly had glided, shook                    1575
With anger, not much time at all he took,
For when he finished hearing Arcite's tale,
He leapt as if gone mad, face deathly pale,
Out of the thicket not one second later,
And said, "Arcite, you false and wicked traitor!           1580
Now you are caught who loves my lady so,
She for whom I have had such pain and woe;
You're of my blood, and to my counsel swore,
As I have often said to you before.
So you have fooled Duke Theseus, you claim,                1585
And also you have falsely changed your name,
But you shall die, or else it shall be me:
You shall not love my lady Emily.
For I and I alone shall love her so;
I'm Palamon himself, your mortal foe.                      1590
And though I have no weapon in this place
(I just escaped from prison, by God's grace),
You'll either die--of that there's no mistake--
Or else not love my Emily. So make
The choice you will, you'll not escape from me."           1595
  Now when Arcite had heard and turned to see
That it was Palamon, as spite coursed through
His heart he fiercely as a lion drew
His sword and said, "By God who sits above,
If you were not so sick and crazed with love,              1600
And if you had a weapon at your side,
You'd not walk from this grove a single stride,
For by my hand you would be lying dead.
The pledge, the guarantee that you have said
I gave you, I renounce. Why, you must be                   1605
A perfect fool, I tell you love is free,
And I will love her, try all that you might!
But inasmuch as you're a worthy knight
Who'd wager her to see who should prevail,
Here is my oath: tomorrow without fail,                    1610
In secret, known to no one else around,
It's right here as a knight that I'll be found,
With arms for you as well--and you be first
To choose the best ones, leave for me the worst.
Some meat and drink tonight I'll bring to you,             1615
All that you need; I'll bring some bedding too.
And if it be my lady you shall win
And slay me in this wood that we are in,
You well may have her, nothing more from me."
  And Palamon then answered, "I agree."                    1620
And so till then they parted, when they both
Had pledged in all good faith with solemn oath.
  O Cupid, so devoid of charity!
O rule where no compeer's allowed to be!
It truly has been said that love or power                  1625
Won't willingly give fellowship an hour;
So Palamon has found, as has Arcite.
The latter rode at once to town that night,
Then in the morning, just before the sun,
Sneaked out the armor he and Palamon                       1630
Would need; he brought enough to more than do
For battle in the field between the two.
So as alone as he was born he rode
His horse, with all this armor as his load,
And at the time and place that had seen set,               1635
There in the grove, the two of them were met.
The hue began to change in each's face,
Like in the hunter's who in distant Thrace
Stands in the gap with spear in hand, as there
He's hunting for the lion and the bear;                    1640
He hears it coming, rushing through the branches
And breaking boughs asunder; then he blanches:
"Here comes," he thinks, "my mortal enemy!
Without fail one must die, it's him or me,
For either I will slay him at the gap                      1645
Or he slay me, if that be my mishap."
That's how they were in changing of their hue
As soon as each one had his foe in view.
  There was no "Good day," not one salutation.
Without a word before the confrontation                    1650
Each of the two first helped to arm the other
As courteously as if he were his brother.
And then, with sharpened spears of sturdy strength,
They plunged into a fight of wondrous length.
To watch this Palamon you might have thought               1655
He was a maddened lion, the way he fought,
And like a cruel tiger was Arcite.
They smote each other as wild boars would fight
When frothing white with foam, so mad each one.
They fought till ankle deep the blood had run.             1660
I'll leave them, on their fight no more to dwell,
Now something more of Theseus to tell.
  That minister general, Destiny,
Who executes all that must come to be
(The providence foreseen by God on high),                  1665
Is so strong that although the world deny
A thing shall be, by vow, by "yea" or "nay,"
It still will come to pass upon its day,
Though not again till pass a thousand years;
Each appetite that in this world appears,                  1670
Be it for war or peace or hate or love,
Is governed by this providence above.
  Of mighty Theseus I say the same,
For he had such desire for hunting game,
Especially the great hart, all that May                    1675
There didn't dawn on him a single day
That didn't find him clad and set to ride
With hunters, horns, hounds running at his side;
For in his hunting he took such delight
That it was all his joy and appetite                       1680
To be the great hart's mighty bane and dread;               
He served Diana after Mars the Red.
  Clear was the day, as I've said prior to this,
As Theseus--all joyful, full of bliss,
Along with Hippolyta, his fair queen,                      1685
And Emily, clothed all in lovely green--
Was out upon a royal hunting ride;
And to the grove that stood so near beside,
In which there was a hart (so men had said),
Duke Theseus directly turned and sped.                     1690
He rode straight for the glade, which was the place
To which the hart was wont to go, to race
Across the brook and flee as harts will do;
The duke would have a run at him or two
With hounds such as it pleased him to command.             1695
  But when the duke had reached this open land,
There in the glaring sun he caught the sight
At once of Palamon and of Arcite,
Still fighting like two boars. It seemed as though
The two bright swords, there flashing to and fro           1700
So hideously, could with the lightest stroke
Be either one enough to fell an oak.
Now who these people were he didn't know;
The duke at once then spurred his courser, though,
And in a trice he was between the two,                     1705
Pulled out his sword, and said, "Halt! That will do!
No more, on pain of parting with your head!
By mighty Mars, he'll be as good as dead
Who strikes another blow that I may see.
Tell me what sort of men you two must be,                  1710
In such a hardy fight here as you were
Without a judge or other officer
Though as if in a tournament today."
  Then Palamon responded right away:
"Sire, there are no more words that need be said,          1715
We both are quite deserving to be dead.
Two woeful wretches, prisoners are we,
Both weary of our lives, that's him and me.
And as you are a righteous judge and lord,
No mercy nor refuge for us afford,                         1720
But slay me first, in saintly charity.
But slay this fellow here as well as me--
Or slay him first, when you have seen him right:
This is your mortal foe, this is Arcite,
Whom you have banished or would have his head,             1725
For which he's now deserving to be dead.
This is the one who came up to your gate
And told them that his name was Philostrate,
The one who's made a fool of you for years--
You made him your chief squire, from all his peers.        1730
And he's in love with Emily. And I,
Since now has come the day that I shall die,
Shall plainly here confess and have it done
That I am that same woeful Palamon
Who broke out of your prison wickedly;                     1735
I am your mortal foe, and I am he
Who loves so hotly Emily the Bright
I'd die for it here in my lady's sight.
I therefore ask for death, for it is just.
But you will slay this fellow too, I trust,                1740
For both of us deserve to die, not one."
  This worthy duke then answered Palamon
At once. He said, "Then here's the long and short:
The confession from your mouth, your own report
Has damned you, so I'll thereby note the fact              1745
That there's no need to flog or have you racked.
By mighty Mars the Red, you'll die and should!"
  But then the queen, in all her womanhood,
Began to weep, and so did Emily
And all the ladies in their company.                       1750
They thought it such a pity, one and all,
That ever such misfortune should befall;
For gentlemen these were, of great estate,
And nothing but of love was their debate.
To see the two men's bloody wounds so wide,                1755
Both young and old among the women cried,
"Have mercy, lord, upon us women all!"
And on their bare knees they began to fall,
And would have kissed his feet there as he stood.
At last, as pity rises in a good                           1760
And gentle heart, his anger finally slaked;
For though the duke at first with ire quaked,
He gave consideration with a pause
To what had been their trespass and the cause.
Though, to his mind, of guilt they stood accused,          1765
His reason said that they should be excused;
He settled on the thought that every man
Will help himself in love all that he can,
And free himself from jail in any fashion.
And also in his heart he had compassion                    1770
For all these women who were still in tears.
He gently took to heart the women's fears,
Then softly told himself, "Fie on a lord
Who has no whit of mercy to afford,
Who's lionlike in all that's done and said                 1775
To those who are repentant and in dread,
As well as to a proud, defiant man
Who aims to finish that which he began.
That lord has no discriminating vision
Who can't in such a case make some division                1780
But weighs pride and humility as one."
So when its course his wrath had shortly run,
Duke Theseus looked up toward the skies
And spoke aloud, a sparkling in his eyes:
  "The god of love! Ah, benedicite!                        1785
How great a lord, how mighty is his sway!
Against his might there are no obstacles;
Call him a god for all his miracles.
For he can mold according to his muse
All of our hearts however he may choose.                   1790
This Palamon, this Arcite whom you see,
Were from my prison both completely free;
They might have lived in Thebes and royally so,
For they both know I am their mortal foe
And death for both within my power lies;                   1795
Yet love, in spite of all before their eyes,
Brought them back here to die, back to the brink.
Now this is some high folly, don't you think?
Who else may be a fool but one in love!
Look, for the sake of God who sits above,                  1800
See how they bleed! Are they not well arrayed?
Thus by their lord, the god of love, they're paid
For serving him, they have their fee and wage.
Yet they think they are wise who so engage
In serving love, whatever may befall.                      1805
But this is yet the biggest joke of all,
That she for whom they passionately vie
Can give them thanks about as much as I--
She knew no more about this whole affair
Than knew, by God, a cuckoo or a hare!                     1810
But all must be assayed, both hot and cold,
A man must be a fool, though young or old.
From long ago I know myself it's true,
For in my time I was love's servant too.
And therefore, since I recognize love's pain               1815
And know full well love's power to constrain
(As one so often captured in his net),
This trespass I'll forgive and I'll forget,
As my queen has requested, kneeling here
Along with Emily, my sister dear.                          1820
But both of you shall swear to me: my land
Shall nevermore be threatened by your hand,
You shan't make war against me day or night;
You'll be my friends in every way you might,
Then I'll forgive this trespass as I may."                 1825
And they swore as he asked in every way,
And for his lordship's mercy then they prayed.
He granted grace, and then this speech he made:
  "Regarding royal blood and riches too,
Were she a queen or princess, each of you,                 1830
I have no doubt at all, has worthiness
To marry her in time; but nonetheless
I speak now for my sister Emily
For whom you've had this strife and jealousy.
You know that two at once she cannot marry                 1835
No matter how this fight you choose to carry.
No, one of you, no matter what the grief,
Must go and 'whistle with an ivy leaf';
She cannot have you both, that is to say,
Be you as mad and jealous as you may.                      1840
This proposition, then, I put to you:
Each one shall have his destiny, his due,
However it's been shaped--and listen how,
For here's your end as I devise it now.
  "My will is this (this matter to conclude                1845
Once and for all, no protest to intrude,
So if you like it, make of it the best):
Where you may wish to go, by me you're blest,
Go freely, there's no danger in your way;
But after fifty weeks right to the day,                    1850
Each of you shall bring back one hundred knights,
Armed for the lists to represent your rights,
All set to fight for her. For here's an oath
That this is what shall be, I tell you both
Upon my word and as I am a knight:                         1855
When we have seen which has the greater might--
That is to say, whichever of the two
With his one hundred (as I've said to you)
Shall slay or from the lists the other drive--
To him I shall give Emily to wive,                         1860
To him who Fortune gives so fair a grace.
I'll have the lists built in this very place,
And--God bestow my soul with wisdom's order--
I'll be a true judge on the battle's border.
With me you have no other way to go,                       1865
One of you shall be killed or taken. So
If you believe this judgment is well said,
Advise me now and count yourselves ahead.
That is your end, that's how it shall be done."
  Who looks as happy now as Palamon?                       1870
And who but Arcite springs with such delight?
Who could explain, who has the skill to write
About the joy witnessed in the place
That Theseus has granted such a grace?
Then everyone went down on bended knee                     1875
And gave him thanks in most heartfelt degree--
Especially the Thebans, more than once.
And so, with high hopes and ebullience,
The two then took their leave, they were to ride
Back home to Thebes, to walls so old and wide.             1880


PART III


  I know that men would deem it negligence
If I forgot to tell of the expense
To which Duke Theseus went busily
To build the lists. He built them royally,
A theatre so noble standing there                          1885
I daresay none was finer anywhere.
Its circuit measured one full mile about,
Its wall of stone, a circling moat without.
As surely as a compass it was round,
And sixty rows it stood above the ground,                  1890
So that a man on one row wouldn't be
The reason that another couldn't see.
  On the east stood a great, white marble gate,
Another on the west. I'll briefly state,
Concluding, there was no such other place                  1895
In all the earth that took so little space.
For there was not one craftsman in the land
With math and his geometry in hand,
No single sculptor or one painter, who
Duke Theseus did not hire for the crew                     1900
That worked on this theatre. So that he
Might sacrifice, do all rites properly,
At the eastern gate he had built above,
In honor of Venus, goddess of love,
An altar and an oratory. Then,                             1905
Above the west gate, he constructed in
The memory of Mars the very same;
A cart of gold was spent in Mars's name.
In a turret, built on the northern wall                    
In coral and white alabaster all,                          1910
The duke had nobly wrought an oratory
Magnificent see, built for the glory
Of Diana, most chaste of deities.
  Yet I've forgotten to describe with these
The sculptures, paintings, noble works of art,             1915
The shapes and figures that were all a part
Of the work in these oratories three.
  In the temple of Venus you could see
(Wrought on the wall, and piteous to behold)
The broken sleep, the lonely sighs, the cold               1920
And sacred tears, the sad laments; the burning,
The fiery strokes of all desire and yearning
That servants of love in this life endure;
The oaths by which covenants they assure;
Pleasure and Hope, Desire, Foolhardiness,                  1925
Beauty and Youth and Riches, Bawdiness,
Seduction, Force, Falsehood and Flattery,
Extravagance, Ado and Jealousy  
(Who wears a garland, yellow marigolds,
And in her hand a bird, the cuckoo, holds);                1930
The banquets, instruments, the carols, dances,
Lust and array. All of the circumstances
Of love that I'm recounting here were all
In proper order painted on the wall--
And more than I'd be able to recount,                      1935
For truly all the Cytherean mount,
The place where Venus has her major dwelling,
Was in the scenes on that wall for the telling
With all its gardens and its lustfulness.
Nor was forgotten the porter Idleness,                     1940
Nor Narcissus, that ancient, fairest one,
Nor all the folly of King Solomon,
Nor yet the mighty strength of Hercules,
Medea's enchanting power nor Circe's,
Nor Turnus with a heart so fierce and bold,                1945
Nor Croesus, rich but captive with his gold.
So you can see that neither wisdom, wealth, 
Nor beauty, sleight, nor strength nor hardy health
Can hold with Venus an equality,
For as she wills she guides the world to be.               1950
Look how these people, caught up in her snare,
So often cried "Alas!" in their despair.
Suffice here these examples one or two,
Though I could tell a thousand more to you.
  Venus's statue, glorious to behold,                      1955
Was naked, and the sea about her rolled,
As from her navel down were shown to pass
Green waves that were as bright as any glass.
She had a harp in her right hand, and she
Had on her head, a seemly sight to see,                    1960
A fresh rose garland, fragrant as the spring.
Above her head her doves were flickering.
Before her Cupid stood, who is her son;
He had two wings and was superbly done,
And blind he was, as is so often seen.                     1965
He held a bow, and arrows bright and keen.
  Why should I not as well tell you of all
The paintings that appeared upon the wall
In the temple of mighty Mars the Red?
From roof to floor the wall was overspread                 1970
With painted scenes like in that grisly place
That's known as his great temple back in Thrace--
That cold and frosty region where, I'm told,
He has his sovereign mansion from of old.
  A forest, first, was painted on the wall                 1975
In which there dwelt no man nor beast at all.
Its knotty, knarled trees were bare and old,
The stubs were sharp and hideous to behold;
And through it ran a rumble and a sough
As if a storm would break off every bough.                 1980
And downward from a hill, below the bent,
Stood the temple of Mars of Armament,
Made all of burnished steel. The entrance there
Was long and straight, indeed a sight to scare,
And out of it came such a raging wind                      1985
The very gate was made to shake and bend.
  In through the doors there shone the northern light
(No window being in that temple's height
Through which to see a single light). Each door
Was of eternal adamant and, more,                          1990
Was reinforced as wide as well as long
With toughest iron. To make the temple strong,
Each pillar had the girth of any cask,
Each of bright shiny iron fit for the task.
  There I first saw the dark imagination                   1995
Of Felony, the scheme of its creation; 
Cruel Ire that burns till like a coal it's red;
The pickpurse and the pallidness of Dread;
The smiler with the knife beneath his cloak;
The stable burning up with blackest smoke;                 2000
The treachery of murder in the bed;
The wounds of open Warfare as they bled;
Strife with its threats and with its bloody knife.
With frightful sounds that sorry place was rife.
The suicide I saw, too, lying there,                       2005
The blood of his own heart had bathed his hair;
The driven nail in someone's head by night;
Cold Death laid out, his mouth a gaping sight;
Right in the temple's center sat Mischance,
Uncomforted, and sad his countenance;                      2010
There I saw Madness laughing in his rage,
And armed Complaint, Outcry and fierce Outrage;
The carrion found in the bush (throat slit),
A thousand slain, no plague the cause of it;
The tyrant with his booty, battle's gains;                 2015
The town laid waste till nothing now remains.
I saw the burning ships dance on the tide;
The hunter strangled by wild bears; I spied
The sow devour the child right in the cradle;
The scalded cook despite his lengthy ladle.                2020
Not one misfortune that Mars could impart
Was overlooked; the carter by his cart
Run over, underneath the wheel laid low.
Of those who follow Mars, there were also
The barber and the butcher, and the smith                  2025
Who forges at the anvil, busy with
Sharp swords. Above, where seated in his tower,
I saw Conquest depicted in his power;
There was a sharpened sword above his head
That hung there by the thinnest simple thread.             2030
The killing, too, was shown of Julius,
Of mighty Nero, of Antonius--
Though at that time they all were still unborn,
Their deaths appeared upon that wall forlorn 
By threat of Mars and by prefiguration.                    2035
So it was shown in that wall's illustration
As is depicted in the stars above:
Who shall be slain and who shall die for love.
(Old stories tell it; one example's good,
I can't recount them all, although I would.)               2040
  His statue on its chariot, lifelike
In arms and grim, looked mad enough to strike.
Two starry figures shone above his head,
Puella one (as in the old books read),
The other one as Rubeus was known.                         2045
That's how this god of armament was shown.
There was a wolf  before him at his feet
With red eyes, as a man he set to eat.
With subtle brush depicted was the story
Of Mars, redoubtable in all his glory.                     2050
  Now to the temple of Diana chaste
As briefly as I can I'll turn with haste
To give you a description that's complete.
The walls all up and down were made replete
With scenes of hunting and of chastity.                    2055
I saw how sad Callisto came to be
(When she had caused Diana some despair)
Changed from a woman first into a bear
And then into the lodestar. (That's the way
That it was painted, what more can I say?)                 2060
Her son's also a star, as men may see.
There I saw Daphne turned into a tree.
(Diana I don't mean, she's not the same;
Peneus's daughter, Daphne her name.)
I saw Actaeon turned into a hart                           2065
(He saw Diana nude, which wasn't smart),
And then I saw his hounds run and surprise him
And eat him up (they didn't recognize him).
And painted on the wall was furthermore
How Atalanta hunted after boar,                            2070
As did Meleager and some others (though
For this Diana brought Meleager woe).
I also saw there many a wondrous tale
On which I'd rather let my memory fail.
  This goddess on a hart had taken seat,                   2075
And there were slender hounds about her feet,
And underneath her feet there was a moon
(One that was waxing, to be waning soon).
Her statue was arrayed in green; she wore
A quiver filled, her bow in hand she bore.                 2080
Her eyes were looking down, extremely so,
Toward Pluto's dark region far below.
Before her was a woman in travail,
Trying to have her child to no avail
As to Lucina she began to call,                            2085
"Please help me, for your help's the best of all!"   
How lifelike were these scenes the artist wrought!
The paint cost many a florin that he bought.
  Now when these lists were finished, Theseus,
Who'd gone to great expense in building thus               2090
The theatre and temples, was elated
With all of it as finally consummated.
On Theseus I'll cease now if I might,
Of Palamon to speak and of Arcite.
  The day of their return was drawing nigh,                2095
When each should bring one hundred knights to vie
For Emily in battle, as I've told.
To Athens, their covenants to uphold,
Each one of them thus brought one hundred knights,
Well armed and set for battle by all rights.               2100
And certainly, as thought then many a man,
Not once before since this world first began
(Regarding knighthood, deeds of gallant hand),
As surely as God made the sea and land,
Had there been such a noble company.                       2105
For every man with love of chivalry
And who desired to make himself a name
Had prayed that he might take part in the game.
The chosen surely had no cause for sorrow;
If such a thing were taking place tomorrow,                2110
You know right well that every lusty knight
Who loves his paramours and has some might,
Whether it were in England or elsewhere,
Would thankfully and willingly be there.
To fight for a lady, benedicite!                           2115
It was a lusty sight, this whole array.
  The many knights who rode with Palamon
Were of that lusty spirit, every one.
Now some of these had chosen to be dressed
In hauberk, breastplate, and a simple vest;                2120
Some wore two plates (both front and black, and large),
While some preferred a Prussian shield or targe;
Some liked to arm their legs against attacks
And have a mace of steel or else an ax.
There's no new armored style that isn't old,               2125
They all were armed, as I have briefly told,
According to the liking of each one.
  There you may see approach with Palamon
Lycurgus, who's the mighty king of Thrace.
His beard was black, and manly was his face.               2130
The fellow's eyes were glowing in his head
With light that was half yellow and half red,
And like a griffin he would look about
From neath two shaggy brows. The man was stout;
He had great limbs, with muscles hard and strong,          2135
His shoulders broad, arms barrel like and long.
As was the custom in his land, he rolled
Along upon a chariot of gold,
Four white bulls in the traces at the fore.
Instead of coat of arms Lycurgus wore                      2140
A bearskin that was coal black, very old,
Its yellow claws as bright as any gold.
His hair shone, long and combed behind his back,
Bright as a raven's feather, and as black.
His strong and shaggy head was underneath                  2145
A mighty weight, an arm-sized golden wreath,
Inlaid with bright and precious stones in plenty.
White wolfhounds were around him, more than twenty,
Each one of them as big as any steer,
That he would use to hunt for lion or deer.                2150
They followed him with muzzles tightly bound,
Their collars gold with collar rings filed round.
He had a hundred lords there in his rout,
All fully armed. Their hearts were stern and stout.
  With Arcite, as we find old tales relate,                2155
The Indian king, Emetrius the Great--
His bay steed with steel trappings, covered by
A motley cloth of gold--came riding. Why,
The god of arms, new Mars he looked to be.
His surcoat was of cloth from Tartary,                     2160
With all the large white pearls that it could hold.
His saddle, newly forged, was burnished gold.
A mantle from his shoulders hung, attire
Brimful of rubies sparkling red as fire.
His crisp hair into ringlets seemed to run,                2165 
So yellow it would glitter like the sun.
His nose was high, his eyes bright and citrine;
He had full lips, and skin that had a fine
Sanguinity, with freckles on his face
From black to yellow and from place to place.              2170
And like that of a lion was his gaze.
His age was twenty-five, I would appraise.
His beard had very well begun to grow;
His voice thundered like a trumpet's blow.
He wore a garland made of laurel, green                    2175
And freshly picked and pleasant to be seen.
Upon his hand he bore, to his delight,
An eagle that was tame and lily white.
He had a hundred nobles with him there,
Armed to the teeth with all a warrior's wear,              2180
Fully equipped with all that battle brings.
For take my word that earls, dukes, and kings
Were gathered in this noble company
For love of and the growth of chivalry.
Around this king, among this noble tide,                   2185
Tame lions and leopards ran on every side.
And in this manner nobles all and some
Had on that Sunday to the city come,
There in the early morning to alight.
  Now Theseus, this duke and worthy knight,                2190
When he had brought them all into the town
To inns where they would all be bedded down
According to their rank, gave them a feast.
He honored all, ignoring not the least.
It still is said that none, however great,                 2195
Could have done better. Here I could relate
The music and the service at the feast,
The gifts both to the highest and the least;
The rich array with which he decked the place,
And who sat first and last upon the dais;                  2200
Which ladies were the fairest, danced the best,
Or which of them sang better than the rest;
Or who could speak most feelingly of love;
What hawks were sitting on the perch above,
What hounds were lying on the floor below--                2205
Of all this I will make no mention, though.
To tell what followed seems the best to me,
So let's get to the point, if you agree.
  That Sunday night, before day came along,
When Palamon had heard the lark in song--                  2210
It was two hours till day would begin,
And yet the lark sang--Palamon right then
In hopeful spirit and with holy heart
Arose, then as a pilgrim to depart
To Cytherea, blissful and benign                           2215
(That is, to Venus, honored and divine);
For in her hour he walked out to where
Her temple stood in the theatre. There
He knelt down with a humble, aching heart
And prayed, as you shall hear me now impart.               2220
  "O lady Venus, fairest of the fair,
Jove's daughter, wife of Vulcan, hear my prayer!
O gladness of the Cytherean mount!
By your love for Adonis--such amount!--
Have pity on my tears, their bitter smart,                 2225
And take my humble prayer into your heart.
Alas! I have no language that can tell
The ravages and torments of my hell,
The many ills my heart cannot convey;
I'm so confused there's nothing I can say                  2230
But 'Mercy, lady bright, who, as I kneel,
Knows all my thought and sees what woe I feel!'
Consider all and rue me, I implore,
As surely as I shall forevermore
(Give me the might!) your truest servant be                2235
And always be at war with chastity.
I give to you my vow, give me your aid.
For I don't care to boast of arms displayed
Nor ask that mine shall be the victory
And fame; I do not seek the vanity                         2240
Of warriors' glory, praised both far and wide;
I wish but full possession as my bride 
Of Emily, and death in serving you.
Determine now the way, what's best to do.
I do not care, whichever's best to be--                    2245
To vanquish them or have them vanquish me--
That I might hold my lady safe from harms.
For though it's true that Mars is god of arms,
Your virtue, Venus, is so great above,
If you but will it I shall have my love.                   2250
I'll worship at your temple ever biding;
At every altar where I may go riding
My sacrifice will be with fiery heat.
But if you will it not, my lady sweet,
I pray tomorrow, when we're fighting here,                 2255
Arcite will run my heart through with a spear;
Then I won't care, when I have lost my life,
Though he indeed should win her as his wife.
This is my prayer, it all concludes in this:
Give me my love, dear lady of all bliss."                  2260
  When the prayer of Palamon was done,
He gave a sacrifice, and it was one
Of all good form and fullest piety.
(I won't go into all the liturgy.)
Then at the last the Venus statue shook                    2265
And made a sign to him, which he then took
To mean acceptance of his prayer that day;
For though the sign had come with some delay,
He well knew she had granted his request.
He hurried home with gladness in his breast.               2270
  Three hours after he had made his way
Out to the temple of Venus to pray,
The sun arose and so did Emily.
She started for Diana's temple, she
And all the maidens in her following                       2275
Who brought the fire to burn the offering,
The incense, clothes, all the accoutrements
Required for sacrificial sacraments;
As was the custom, horns were full of mead;
They brought all things that sacrificers need.             2280
The temple smoked, the vestments all were fair,
As Emily, with heart so debonair,
Her body washed with water from a well.
How she performed the rite I dare not tell
Unless it's in a very general way.                         2285
(A pleasure it would be were I to say,
And, meaning well, there's nothing I could lose,
But it's good for a man to pick and choose.)
She combed her loose bright hair, smooth to the stroke.
A crown of green leaves taken from the oak                 2290
Was on her head, the arrangement meet and fair.
Two fires she kindled at the altar there
And then performed the rites (as men may note
In old books like the Theban Statius wrote).
The fire once lit, she in a piteous way                    2295
Addressed Diana, as you'll hear me say.
  "O most chaste goddess of the woods so green,
By whom all heaven, earth, and sea are seen!
Queen of the realm of Pluto dark below!
Goddess of maidens! My heart you well know                 2300
And have for years, you've known what I desire.
O keep me from your vengeance and your ire,
For which Actaeon paid so brutally!
You've seen, chaste goddess, one desire in me:
I long to be a maiden all my life,                         2305
Not ever to be lover or a wife.
You know that I'm yet of your company,
A maiden who's in love with venery,
One who desires to walk the woods so wild
And not be someone's wife and be with child                2310
Or have to know the company of man.
Now help me, lady, since you may and can,
By these three forms that you possess. I see
That Palamon has such a love for me,
And Arcite too, and for them I implore,                    2315
One grace I ask, and pray for nothing more:
That love and peace between the two you'll send
And turn their hearts from me, to such an end
That all their burning love and their desire,
That all their busy torment and their fire                 2320
Be quenched, or else turned to another place.
But if you will not grant me such a grace,
Or destiny is shaped in such a way
That I must have one of the two, I pray
You'll send me him with most desire for me.                2325
Behold, O goddess of pure chastity,
Upon my cheeks the bitter tears that fall.
You are a maiden, keeper of us all;
My maidenhood now keep and well conserve,
And you, while I'm a maiden, I will serve."                2330
  The fires burnt clearly on the altar there
While Emily was kneeling in her prayer.
Then suddenly so strange a sight she flinched,
For all at once one of the fires was quenched,
Then lit again; and after that the other                   2335
Was gone as quickly, as if in a smother--
And as it went, it made a whistling noise
Like firebrands when they're wet. She lost all poise
When from the firebrand's end began to run
What looked like drops of blood, and many a one.           2340
Poor Emily, aghast at such a sight,
Began to cry, half maddened in her fright,
Not knowing what this all might signify;
It was pure fear alone that made her cry,
And cry she did, a woeful sound to hear.                   2345
Just then Diana seemed there to appear,
Like any huntress, in her hand a bow.
"Daughter," she said, "put off your heavy woe.
Among the gods on high it is affirmed
By word eternal, written and confirmed:                    2350
You shall be wedded to one of the two
Who have endured such care and woe for you.
But as to which of them, I may not tell.
No longer may I tarry, so farewell.
The fires that here upon my altar burn                     2355
Shall say to you, before away you turn,
What in this case shall be your fate in love."
With that, the arrows in the quiver of
The goddess rang with noisy clattering,
Then she was gone. Upon this vanishing,                    2360
Astonished by the things that she had seen,
Emily said, "Alas, what can it mean?
I put myself now under your protection,
Diana, I shall follow your direction."
She then at once went home the nearest way,                2365
And that was that, there is no more to say.
  The next hour of Mars to follow this,
Arcite went to the temple in the lists
To offer fiery Mars his sacrifice
With all the rites that such a god suffice.                2370
With piteous heart and very high devotion
He said to Mars the following orison.
  "O god of strength, who in cold Thracian regions
Is honored as a lord by all your legions; 
Who has in every realm and every land                      2375
All arms as but a bridle in your hand,
Whose fortunes are your pleasure, your device;
Accept, I pray, my humble sacrifice.
If it be by my youth I might deserve,
And by my strength have worthiness, to serve               2380
Your godhead and to be among your train,
I pray that you'll have pity on my pain.
By that same pain, that same hot, blazing fire
In which you too were burning with desire,
When you once had the fair, the fresh young beauty         2385
Of Venus--when you had her in your duty,
When in your arms you had her at your will
(Although there was a time it brought you ill,
The time when Vulcan caught you in his net
And found you with his wife, to your regret)--             2390
By that same sorrow that was in your heart,
Now rue my pains as well, for how they smart!
I'm young, unknowing, as you are aware;
By love I'm hurt, and have much more despair
Than any creature ever drawing breath.                     2395
For she, for whom I must endure to death
This woe, cares not if I should sink or swim--
No mercy from her, not a trace or whim,
Unless by strength I win her in this place.
And well I know, without your help or grace,               2400
My strength will not avail me in my plight.
So help me, lord, tomorrow in my fight.
By that same fire that once caused you to burn
(Those flames that now cause me as well to yearn),
Let victory tomorrow be my story;                          2405
Let mine be all the trial, yours the glory.
Your temple I will honor without measure,
Above all places; always at your leisure
And in your crafts I'll work in mighty manner.
And in your temple I will hang my banner,                  2410
And all the arms of all my company,
And henceforth, till the day I die, I'll see
That there's eternal fire before you found.
And also to this oath I will be bound:
My beard and hair, that now hang down so long              2415
And never yet have suffered any wrong
From razor or from shear, I'll give to you,
And be long as I live your servant true.
Now, lord, look on my sorrow ruefully;
I ask for nothing more than victory."                      2420
  Now when this prayer of strong Arcite was ended,
The rings that on the doors had hung suspended,
And then the doors themselves, began to clatter
(With Arcite somewhat frightened by the matter).
The altar fires began to burn so bright                    2425
That Mars's temple soon was all alight.
The floor gave up an odor sweet and grand.
Immediately Arcite raised up his hand,
As more incense into the fire he cast,
With other rites as well, when at the last                 2430
The statue's hauberk then began to ring,
And with the sound was heard a murmuring:
Though low and dim, and word was "Victory!"   
Then Mars he praised and honored joyfully;
His hopes were high as to how well he'd fare               2435
As to his inn he then went to repair,
As happy as a bird to see the sun.
  And right away such strife was then begun,
By these accords, in the heavens above
Between fair Venus, goddess of all love,                   2440
And Mars, stern god of every sword and plate,
That Jupiter could hardly arbitrate--
Until his father Saturn, pale and cold,
Well taught by many fortunes from of old,
Recalled from his experience an art                        2445
By which they were appeased for each's part.
It's truly said the elder has advantage,
On wisdom and on life he has the vantage;
Men may outrun but not outsmart the old.
At once to end this strife he'd seen unfold,               2450
Old Saturn (though it wasn't like himself)
Sought ways to put this quarrel on the shelf.
  "Dear daughter Venus," Saturn said, "my course
Must take a lengthy turn, yet it's a force
And power like no man can bring to be.                     2455
Mine is the drowning in the pallid sea;
Mine is the prison cell where shines no speck
Of light; the strangling, hanging by the neck,
The murmur and rebellion of the throng,
The secret poison, and complaints of wrong;                2460
I take revenge, complete correction's mine,
While I am dwelling in the Lion's sign.
Mine's the ruin of many high built halls,
The falling of the towers and the walls
On carpenter and miner. I'm the killer                     2465
Of Samson as he shook the mighty pillar;
And mine are all the maladies so cold,
The plans of all dark treasons from of old;
My glance is father of all pestilence.
Now weep no more, for by my diligence                      2470
This Palamon, who is your worthy knight,
Shall have her as you promised him tonight.
Though Mars shall help his knight, this has to cease,
Between you once again must be some peace,
Although you're not the same in temperament                2475
(Which causes all the day such argument).
I'm your grandfather, ready at your will;
No longer weep, your wish I shall fulfill."
  Now I will cease to speak of gods above,
Of Mars and Venus, gods of war and love,                   2480
And tell you now, as plainly as I can,
The end result for which I first began.


PART IV


  Great was the feast in Athens on that day,
And such a lusty season was that May
That everyone took pleasure at the chance                  2485
To joust all of that Monday and to dance
And serve fair Venus as he might devise.
But by the fact that they would have to rise
Up early if they were to see the fight,
They finally went to bed that Monday night.                2490
  Next morning, when the day began to spring,
Of horse and harness, noise and clattering,
The sounds were heard in all the inns about.
Then to the palace rode a mighty rout
Of lords upon their steeds and palfreys. There             2495
One might see many styles of knightly wear,
Exotic, rich, all wrought with great appeal,
Combining gold, embroidery, and steel;
Bright shields, headpieces, gear for all alarms,
Gold-tinted helmets, hauberks, coats of arms;              2500
Lords robed on mounts, with knights in retinue
Attending to their needs; and squires too
Were in attendance, buckling up headgear
And strapping shields and nailing every spear
(The needs were such these squires were never idle).       2505
The foaming steeds gnawed at the golden bridle,
While through the throng ran armorers also,
With file and hammer, pricking to and fro;
Yeomen on foot, and many commoners too,
With short staves, were as thick as could get through;     2510
The pipe, the trumpet, clarion, kettledrum,
From which in battle bloody sounds would come;
The palace full of people wall to wall,
Three here, ten there, discussing one and all
The question of these two young Theban knights,            2515
Some saying this, some that; as for the fights,
Some favored yon black-headed, some the bald,
While triumph for that thick-haired others called;
Some said, "He has a grim look, he can fight;
His ax weighs twenty pounds, that isn't light."            2520
And so the hall was filled with such divining,
The sun long since arisen, brightly shining.
  Great Theseus, now from his sleep awaking
To minstrelsy and noise they were making, 
Within his splendid palace chamber stayed                  2525
Until the Theban knights, who both were paid
The honor due, were fetched. The duke with that
Made his appearance, at a window sat,
And like a god enthroned the duke was dressed.
At once all of the people forward pressed                  2530
To see him and to pay high reverence
And hear what judgments he might then dispense.
  A herald on a scaffold bellowed "Hear ye!"
Until the noise quieted down; then he,
On seeing that the crowd below was still,                  2535
Disclosed to them Duke Theseus's will:
  "Our lord discreet, upon deliberation,
Considers it would be a desolation
Of gentle blood here in this enterprise
To fight a mortal battle for the prize.                    2540
Wherefore, to see that no one here should die,
His former purpose he will modify.
No man, on pain of forfeiture of life,
Shall send a missile, poleax, or a knife
Into the lists, nor bring such weapons there;              2545
No short, well-sharpened sword shall anywhere 
Be drawn, nor shall one bear it by his side;
And no man shall against his fellow ride
With finely sharpened spear more than a course
(But may defend with it if off his horse).                 2550
And anyone in trouble they shall take--
That there should be no slaying--to a stake
That shall be ordered, one on either side,
Where he'll be put by force and there abide.
And if one of the chieftains, once we start,               2555
Is taken, or has slain his counterpart,
The tournament is over, come and gone.
And so Godspeed! Go forward and lay on!
With long sword and with maces fight your fill.
Go on your way now, this is our lord's will."              2560
  High as the heavens rose the people's voice,
So merrily and loud did they rejoice.
"God save a lord so noble!" was the cry.
"He wills no blood be shed, that none should die!"
The trumpets blew, then with much melody                   2565
Toward the lists rode all this company
In order down the city's thoroughfare,
Where cloth of gold, no serge, hung everywhere.
This noble duke was lordlike on the ride, 
With these two Theban knights on either side;              2570
And after rode the queen and Emily,
And after that a mighty company
In groups that were arranged by social order.
They passed through all the city to its border,
Out to the lists, with none arriving late.                 2575
The hour of day was sometime after eight
When Theseus sat high and regally,
And Hippolyta and fair Emily,
With other ladies of degree about.
Then to the seats went pressing all the rout.              2580
Then through the west gates under Mars the Red
Arcite immediately his hundred led,
His banner bright and red beneath the sun.
In that same moment entered Palamon
Under Venus on the east. His banner                        2585
Was white, and there was boldness in his manner.
In all the world, were you to seek throughout,
You'd find no other two such groups without
A difference, well matched in every way
Till there was no one wise enough to say                   2590
If either of the two had any edge
In worthiness or age or heritage,
So evenly, it seemed, the Thebans chose.
They lined up fairly, two opposing rows.
And when the name of everyone was read,                    2595
That in their numbers no one be misled,
The gates were shut, and this cry rang aloud:
"Now do your duty, knights so young and proud!"
  The heralds cease their pricking to and fro;
Now trumpets and the clarion loudly blow;                  2600
There is no more to say but east and west
The spear now steady goes into its rest,
And sharpened spur into the courser's side.
They see now who can joust and who can ride:
Shafts splinter on the stout shields tough and thick;      2605
Right through the breastbone one now feels the prick;
Up spring the spears some twenty feet in height,
Out come the swords all sharp and silver bright;
The helmets they begin to hew and shred,
Out bursts the blood in sternest streams of red;           2610
With mighty maces bones they break and bust;
Right through the thickest throng one rides to thrust;
Strong steeds begin to stumble, there's a fall,
The rider underfoot rolls like a ball;
He parries with his shaft against a thrust,                2615
Another with his horse now hits the dust--
He's wounded, so here's one whom they must take,
Despite his protests, over to the stake
Where by the ruling he will have to stay;
Another knight is led across the way.                      2620
  At times Duke Theseus will have them rest,
Refresh themselves, and drink if they request.
And these two Theban knights time and again
Have clashed together, brought each other pain,
Each twice unhorsed now in their rivalry.                  2625
No tiger in the vale of Gargaphy
Whose young whelp has been stolen in the night
Is so cruel to the hunter as Arcite,
So jealous, is to Palamon; and there
Is not a hunted lion anywhere                              2630
In Benmarin, though crazed with hunger, so
Intent to slay, to spill blood of its foe,
As is fierce Palamon against Arcite.
The jealous strokes into their helmets bite,
Out runs the blood, down both their sides they bleed.      2635
  In time there comes an end to every deed,
As when that day, before the sun had set,
Strong King Emetrius charged forth to get
At Palamon as he fought with Arcite;
His sword out of his flesh took quite a bite,              2640
Then twenty men grabbed Palamon, to take
Him, though he struggled, over to the stake.
Strong King Lycurgus moved with the intent
To rescue him, but down Lycurgus went,
While King Emetrius, for all his strength,                 2645
Got knocked from his saddle by a sword's length,
From Palamon receiving such a blow.
But to the stake now Palamon must go;
His hardiness of heart went all for naught,
He had to stay right there once he was caught,             2650
By force and rules by which the jousts were run.
  Who sorrows now but woeful Palamon,
Unable to return again to fight?
When Theseus had witnessed such a sight,
To those who fought, to each and every one,                2655
He cried, "Hear ye! No more, for it is done!
As true impartial judge I now decree
Arcite the Theban shall have Emily,
For by his fortune he has fairly won."
Such noise by the crowd was then begun                     2660
In joy at this, so loud and high the sound,
It seemed the lists would fall right to the ground.
  And what now can fair Venus do above?
What can she say or do, this queen of love?
She weeps at this denial of her will                       2665
Till with her tears the lists begin to fill.
"Without a doubt I'm put to shame," she cried.
  "Be still, my daughter!" Saturn then replied.
"Mars has his will, his knight has all his boon,
But, by my head, you'll have your pleasure soon."          2670
  The trumpeteers, musicians playing loud,
And heralds loudly crying to the crowd
Were all in utter joy for Sir Arcite.
But stop and hear me now as I recite
A miracle that suddenly took place.                        2675
  Fierce Arcite, to reveal his joyous face,
Had taken off his helmet. On his horse
He then set out across the lengthy course
While gazing up at Emily on high;
And she in turn cast him a friendly eye--                  2680
For womenfolk in general, I must say,
Will follow Fortune's favor all the way--
And she was all his joy, his heart's delight.
  A Fury sent from Pluto bounded right
Out of the ground (sent by request, of course,             2685
Of Saturn), which so frightened Arcite's horse
It turned and reared, and foundered in the act,
So quickly that before he could react
Arcite was thrown and landed on his head,
And lay there as if likely he were dead;                   2690
His breast was shattered by his saddlebow.
He lay as black as any coal or crow,
The blood rushed so profusely to his face.
Arcite at once was borne out of the place,
With aching heart, back to the palace. There               2695
They cut him out of all his armored wear,
Then quickly but with care put him to bed;
For he was still alive and in his head
And crying evermore for Emily.
  Duke Theseus, with all his company,                      2700
As he returned to Athens, made his way
With all the usual pageant and display;
For though mischance had surely cast a pall,
He didn't want to disconcert them all.
And men were saying, "Arcite shall not die,                2705
His wounds shall all be healed." And they could sigh
As well in the relief that, though it thrilled,
The tourney ended up with no one killed--
Though some were badly hurt, and namely one
Who'd caught a spear, which through his heart had run.     2710
For other wounds and for the broken arms,                          
Some had some salves and some had magic charms;
They drank of sage, all herbal remedies
Designed to save them their extremities.
This noble duke, as such a noble can,                      2715
Both comforted and honored every man,
And gave a revel lasting all the night
For all these foreign nobles, as was right.
For there was held to have been no defeat
Save what in jousts and tourneys one may meet;             2720
Defeat was truly no one's circumstance.
To take a fall is nothing more than chance,
As to be led by force out to the stake,
With protest it takes twenty knights to break--
One man all by himself with twenty foes                    2725
And carried by his arms and feet and toes,
His courser being driven forth with staves
By footmen (some were yeomen, some were knaves).
No man could be maligned because of this;
There is no man could call it cowardice.                   2730
  So Theseus at once gave the decree,
To stop all rancor and all enmity,
That one side's strength did not exceed the other's,
That both sides were alike, as if all brothers.
By rank he gave them gifts as well as praise,              2735
Gave them a feast that lasted three whole days;
Then all the kings who had been at the tourney
He rode with from his town a lengthy journey,
And every man went home his proper way,
And that was that, with "Farewell!" and "Good day!"        2740
So of this battle no more I'll recite,
But speak of Palamon and of Arcite.
  The breast of Arcite swelled, the pain and sore
About his heart increasing more and more.
The clotting blood, despite physicians' art,               2745
Corrupted as it spread out from his heart,
So that no bleedings nor the cuppings made,
Nor drinking herbal mixtures, were of aid.
The expulsive power (being the "animal")
From that one that is known as "natural"                   2750
Could not void all the venom nor expel.
The pipes within his lungs began to swell,
And every muscle that was in his chest
With venom and corruption filled his breast.
And there was nothing gained, that he might live,          2755
By upward vomit, downward laxative,
For all had been so shattered in his breast
That Nature had no power to arrest.
And certainly if Nature won't work, tote
The man to church, farewell to antidote.                   2760
Arcite would die and that's the summary.
And so he sent for lovely Emily 
And Palamon, his cousin once so dear,
And then he spoke as you will promptly hear.
  "The woeful spirit that is in my heart                   2765
Cannot describe my sorrows, all the smart,
O lady whom I love, that you might hear it.
But I bequeath the service of my spirit
To you above all creatures on the earth,
Since now my life must end, for what it's worth.           2770
Alas, the woe, alas, the pain so strong
That for you I have suffered for so long!
Alas, now death! Alas, my Emily,
Alas, bereft of your sweet company!
Alas, queen of my heart! Alas, my wife,                    2775
My heart's own lady, ender of my life!
What is this world? What is it men so crave?
Now with his love, now in his frigid grave
Where he's alone with none for company.
Farewell, my sweetest foe, my Emily!                       2780
Now softly take me in your arms, I pray,
For love of God, and hear what I must say.
  "I have here with my cousin Palamon
Had strife and rancor many days, not one,
For love of you and in my jealousy.                        2785
O Jupiter so wise, be guide to me
To speak now of a servant as I should--
That is to say, of virtues like knighthood,
Like wisdom, honor, truth, humility,
High birth and rank, like generosity,                      2790       
And all the things that are to these akin.
As Jupiter may take my spirit in,
In all this world right now I know of none
So worthy to be loved as Palamon,
Who serves you and will do so all his life.                2795
And if you ever would become a wife,
Forget not Palamon, this gentle man."
And with those words, failing of speech began,
As from his feet up to his breast had come
The cold of death, which had him overcome;                 2800
In his once mighty arms the vital strength
Began to wane, till finally lost at length;
And then the intellect, all that remained
And dwelt within his heart so sick and pained,
Began to fail. The heart was feeling death;                2805
His eyes were glazed, and failing was his breath.
His lady was the last thing he could see,
And his last words were, "Mercy, Emily!"
His spirit left its house and went to where
I cannot say, I've never journeyed there--                 2810
I'll stop, for I'm no good at divination;
This tale is not of souls for registration
Nor do I wish opinions here to tell
Of those who write of where a soul may dwell.
Arcite is cold, Mars guide his spirit free!                2815
Now I will speak again of Emily.
  She shrieked; Palamon howled, such was his plaint;
So Theseus then took his sister, faint,
And from the corpse at once bore her away.
But would it help were I to take all day                   2820
To tell how she wept day and night? For in
Such cases women have such sorrow (when,
That is to say, their husbands from them go)
They usually will grieve exactly so,
Or else fall sick with such a malady                       2825
That death comes to them too with certainty.
  Unending were the sorrow and the tears
Of elders and of those of tender years
In all the town because of his demise;
For him both child and man had tearful eyes.               2830
So great a weeping surely wasn't heard
When they brought Hector, slain, to be interred
At Troy. Alas, the mourning that was there,
Gashing of cheeks and pulling out of hair.
"Why dead?" the women cry. "Why should you be,             2835
Who had both gold enough and Emily?"
No man could bring some cheer to Theseus
Except for his old father Aegeus,
Who knew this world with all its transmutation
As he had seen it change with alternation,                 2840
Joy after woe, and more woe after joy.
Then cases and examples he'd employ:
  "Just as there's never died a man," said he,
"Who didn't live on earth to some degree,
So there's no man who's ever drawn a breath                2845
In all this world whose time won't come for death.
This world is but a thoroughfare of woe
And we are pilgrims passing to and fro.
Death is an end to every worldly care."
And he had many other words to share                       2850
In this regard, that people might be taught
To take more comfort, not be so distraught.
  Duke Theseus then took the greatest care
In looking for a proper setting where
They'd build for good Arcite a sepulchre                   2855
That most deserving honor would confer.
At last the duke decided on the one
Where at the first Arcite and Palamon
For love in battle with each other strove;
There in that very same green, fragrant grove              2860
Where Arcite spoke his amorous desires,
Where he complained of love's hot burning fires,
For services a fire the duke would light
And at the pyre perform the funeral rite.
He gave command at once for them to mow                    2865
The ancient oaks and lay them in a row
Of fagots set for burning. Rapidly
His officers would run, immediately
To mount and ride away at his command.
And after this, the duke dispatched a band                 2870
To go and bring a bier, one fully clad
With cloth of gold, the richest that he had,
And with a matching suit he clad Arcite.
On Arcite's hands were fitted gloves of white,
Upon his head a laurel crown of green,                     2875
And in his hand a sword both bright and keen.
The duke then laid him barefaced on the bier
And wept till it was pitiful to hear;
And so that Arcite might be seen by all,
When it was day he brought him to the hall,                2880
Which roared with all the crying and the din.
  The woeful Theban Palamon came in
With frowsy beard and rough ash-covered hair,
His clothing black and stained with tears. And there,
Surpassing all who wept, came Emily,                       2885
The one most grieved of all the company.
Because he thought the services should be
Noble and rich for one of such degree,
Three steeds Duke Theseus then had them bring,
With trappings made of steel, all glittering,              2890
And covered with the arms of Sir Arcite.
Upon these steeds, which all were large and white,
Were mounted men--one Arcite's shield to bear,
Another with his spear high in the air,
His Turkish bow the third one proud to hold,               2895
With quiver and with trim of burnished gold.
And forth they sadly rode at mourners' gait
Toward the grove as you'll hear me relate.
The noblest of the Greeks from far and near
Upon their shoulders carried Arcite's bier                 2900
At slackened pace, their eyes a tearful red,
Along the city's main street. They had spread
Black cloth along the street, and from great height
The same hung on each side. Upon the right
Hand there came next the old man Aegeus                    2905
And on the other side Duke Theseus,
In hand fine golden vessels, which had in
Them milk and honey, blood and wine; and then
Came Palamon with a great company,
And after that came woeful Emily                           2910
With fire in hand (the custom of the day,
That all the rites be done the proper way).
  Much labor and the greatest preparation
Were spent upon the pyre and ministration--
A pyre so high its top the heavens fetched,                2915
And in its breadth some twenty fathoms stretched
(So broad were all the boughs, that is to say).
First there was many a load of straw to lay.
But how the pyre was made so high to reach,
And names of trees like alder, maple, beech,               2920
Fir, laurel, plane, birch, poplar, aspen too,
Elm, willow, hazel, chestnut, aspen, yew,
Box, dogwood, ash, and oak, as well as how
They felled them all, I won't go telling now;
Nor how the deities ran to and fro                         2925
(The dryads, nymphs, and fauns), all forced to go,
Abandoning the habitations where
They'd known such rest and peace without a care;
Nor how the beasts and birds in those woods all
Began to flee as trees began to fall;                      2930
Nor how the ground was fearful of the light,
Not ever having seen the sun so bright;
Nor how with straw they first began the fire,
Then dry sticks split in threes to build it higher;
Then spices, then wood hewn from greenest limbs,           2935
Then cloth of gold, along with precious gems
And many flowered garlands, myrrh, incense,
With odor great and pleasant to the sense;
Nor how among all this Arcite lay there
With riches all about him; nor how fair                    2940
And mournful Emily went to the pyre,
As was the custom, with the funeral fire;
Nor how she swooned as flames began to start,
Nor what she spoke, nor what was in her heart;
Nor what jewels into the fire were cast                    2945
When it was leaping high and burning fast;
Nor how one cast a shield, and one a spear,
And some parts of their clothes, about the bier;
Nor how the wine and milk and blood were poured
Into the fire, nor how it wildly soared;                   2950
Nor how the Greeks in one huge mounted rout
Three times from left to right then rode about
The fire with mighty shouts, and three times more
Gave out a clatter with their lances; nor
How thrice the ladies cried out piteously,                 2955
Nor how led home at last was Emily;
Nor how to ashes cold had burnt Arcite,
Nor how for him a wake was held that night,
Nor how the Greeks performed each funeral game--
To speak of such as that is not my aim                     2960
(Who wrestled best while nude and well anointed
And never got in trouble or disjointed);
I also shall not tell how everyone
Went home to Athens when the games were done.
To get right to the point I intend,                        2965
To bring my lengthy story to an end.
  In course of time, the length of certain years,
There ended all the mourning and the tears
Among the Greeks by popular assent.
I think that there was then a parliament                   2970
In Athens to discuss affairs of state.
Among the things decided in debate
Was to ally themselves with certain lands
And also govern Thebes with firmer hands.
And so this noble Theseus decreed                          2975
That Palamon appear, as was agreed--
The reason why unknown to Palamon,
Who still in black, still as a mourning one,
Came at the duke's commandment hastily.
And Theseus then sent for Emily.                           2980
When they had sat, and hushed was all the place,
Duke Theseus was silent for a space;
Before a word came from the wise duke's breast,
He looked about, then his eyes came to rest.
His face was sad, he sighed as all was still,              2985
Then he began to speak to them his will:
  "When the Prime Mover, that First Cause above,
First made the chain so fair that's known as love,
The effect was great, and high was his intent--
He knew the why's and wherefore's, what he meant.          2990
For with that chain of love the Mover bound
The fire, the air, the water, and the ground
To certain bounds from which they may not flee.
And that same Prince and Mover," then said he,
"Established in this wretched world below                  2995
The days of the duration they may know,
All those who are engendered in this place,
Beyond which days they cannot take a pace
But which may well be shortened. Here we see
There is no need for an authority,                         3000
For it is proven by experience.
I want you to be clear as to my sense:
By this Prime Mover's order men are able
To see that he's eternal, always stable;
For every man should know, unless a fool,                  3005
Each part comes from the whole (a simple rule),
For Nature has not taken its beginning
From any part or portion of a thing
But from a thing that's perfect, without change,
Corrupted only in this lower range.                        3010
And so he has, in his wise providence,
Established without flaw his ordinance
That kinds of things in all of their progressions
Shall have endurance only by successions
And shall not be eternal. This is seen                     3015
With but a glance, you follow what I mean.
  "Look at the oak, how long its flourishing
Since way back when it first began to spring;
It has so long a life, as men may see,
Yet wasted at the last is every tree.                      3020
  "Consider, too, the hardness of each stone
Beneath our feet: each one we're treading on
Will finally waste away where it may lie.
The broadest river someday will be dry,
We see great cities wane till they have passed.            3025
And so we see that nothing's born to last.
  "Of men and women, we can also see
That in whichever term of life we be
(That is to say, in youth or else in age),
We all must die, the king just like the page,              3030
Some in the sea, some in the bed serene,
Some on the battlefield, as men have seen.
There is no help, we all wind up one way.
So everything must die, well I can say.
  "And who does this but Jupiter the king                  3035
Who is the prince and cause of everything,
Converting all that is back to the well
From which it sprung, as truly we can tell?
And here again no creature that's alive
Will find avail, however one may strive.                   3040
  "Then it is wisdom, it appears to me,
To make a virtue of necessity
And take well that which we cannot eschew,
Especially that which is all our due.
Complaint is folly, whoso has decried                      3045
Resists the very one who is our guide.
And surely one's most honored if his time
Has come while in his excellence and prime,
When he can die still sure of his good name.
He's done to friend and to himself no shame;               3050
Then should his friend be gladder at his death,
When it's with honor he yields up his breath,
Than when his name is faded later on
And he's forgotten, youth and glory gone.
So it is best, in terms of lasting fame,                   3055
To die while at the height of one's acclaim.
  "To be opposed to this is willfulness.
Why do we groan, or let it so depress, 
That Arcite in the flower of chivalry
Has passed away, with honor, dutifully,                    3060
Departing the foul prison of this life?
Why grieving are his cousin and his wife--
Whom Arcite loved so much--for his well being?
Can Arcite thank them? No, God knows, when seeing
How they offend themselves, not just his soul.             3065
Yet these are feelings they cannot control.
  "How shall I end this lengthy argument
Save after woe let there be merriment,
With thanks to Jupiter for all his grace?
And I advise before we leave this place                    3070
We take two sorrows and with them endeavor
To make one perfect joy to last forever.
Let's look to where most sorrow lies herein,
Where we can help amend and so begin."
  He said, "My sister, this is my intent,                  3075
With the advice here of my parliament:
This gentle Palamon who is your knight,
Who serves you with his will and heart and might
(And always has since you first saw his face),
You shall have pity on, and by your grace                  3080
Shall take him as your husband and your lord.
Lend me your hand, for this is our accord,
And, as a woman should, show sympathy.
He's nephew of a king, and yet if he
Were nothing but a poor knight bachelor,                   3085
So many years he's served you, as it were,
And has for you known such adversity,
I'd still consider him most favorably,
For mercy should transcend one's social station."
  To Palamon he said then in summation:                    3090
"I don't think there's a sermon I need bring
To get you to assent to such a thing;
Come here and take your lady by the hand."
  The two at once were joined in the grand
And holy union that is known as marriage                   3095
Before the council and the baronage.
And so amid much bliss and melody
Has Palamon been wed to Emily;
So God on high, who all this world has wrought,
Has sent to him his love so dearly bought.                 3100
Now Palamon had all that's known as wealth,
To live in bliss, in richness and in health;
And Emily loved him so tenderly,
And he served her with such nobility,
That not one word between this man and wife                3105
Would ever be of jealousy or strife.
So ended Palamon and Emily,
And God save all this lovely company! Amen.

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