by Homer
And in the night then would he take his way
To Thebes-ward, his friendes for to pray
On Theseus to help him to warray1. 1make war
And shortly either he would lose his life,
Or winnen Emily unto his wife.
This is th’ effect, and his intention plain.
Now will I turn to Arcita again,
That little wist how nighe was his care,
Till that Fortune had brought him in the snare.
The busy lark, the messenger of day,
Saluteth in her song the morning gray;
And fiery Phoebus riseth up so bright,
That all the orient laugheth at the sight,
And with his streames1 drieth in the greves2 1rays 2groves
The silver droppes, hanging on the leaves;
And Arcite, that is in the court royal
With Theseus, his squier principal,
Is ris’n, and looketh on the merry day.
And for to do his observance to May,
Remembering the point1 of his desire, 1object
He on his courser, starting as the fire,
Is ridden to the fieldes him to play,
Out of the court, were it a mile or tway.
And to the grove, of which I have you told,
By a venture his way began to hold,
To make him a garland of the greves1, 1groves
Were it of woodbine, or of hawthorn leaves,
And loud he sang against the sun so sheen1. 1shining bright
“O May, with all thy flowers and thy green,
Right welcome be thou, faire freshe May,
I hope that I some green here getten may.”
And from his courser1, with a lusty heart, 1horse
Into the grove full hastily he start,
And in a path he roamed up and down,
There as by aventure this Palamon
Was in a bush, that no man might him see,
For sore afeard of his death was he.
Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite;
God wot he would have 1trowed it full lite1. 1full little believed it1
But sooth is said, gone since full many years,
The field hath eyen1, and the wood hath ears, 1eyes
It is full fair a man 1to bear him even1, 1to be on his guard1
For all day meeten men at 1unset steven1. 1unexpected time
Full little wot Arcite of his fellaw,
That was so nigh to hearken of his saw1, 1saying, speech
For in the bush he sitteth now full still.
When that Arcite had roamed all his fill,
And 1sungen all the roundel1 lustily, 1sang the roundelay1
Into a study he fell suddenly,
As do those lovers in their 1quainte gears1, 1odd fashions1
Now in the crop1, and now down in the breres2, 1tree-top
Now up, now down, as bucket in a well. 2briars
Right as the Friday, soothly for to tell,
Now shineth it, and now it raineth fast,
Right so can geary1 Venus overcast 1changeful
The heartes of her folk, right as her day
Is gearful1, right so changeth she array. 1changeful
Seldom is Friday all the weeke like.
When Arcite had y-sung, he gan to sike1, 1sigh
And sat him down withouten any more:
“Alas!” quoth he, “the day that I was bore!
How longe, Juno, through thy cruelty
Wilt thou warrayen1 Thebes the city? 1torment
Alas! y-brought is to confusion
The blood royal of Cadm’ and Amphion:
Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man,
That Thebes built, or first the town began,
And of the city first was crowned king.
Of his lineage am I, and his offspring
By very line, as of the stock royal;
And now I am 1so caitiff and so thrall1, 1wretched and enslaved1
That he that is my mortal enemy,
I serve him as his squier poorely.
And yet doth Juno me well more shame,
For I dare not beknow1 mine owen name, 1acknowledge
But there as I was wont to hight Arcite,
Now hight I Philostrate, not worth a mite.
Alas! thou fell Mars, and alas! Juno,
Thus hath your ire our lineage all fordo1 1undone, ruined
Save only me, and wretched Palamon,
That Theseus martyreth in prison.
And over all this, to slay me utterly,
Love hath his fiery dart so brenningly1 1burningly
Y-sticked through my true careful heart,
That shapen was my death erst than my shert.
Ye slay me with your eyen, Emily;
Ye be the cause wherefore that I die.
Of all the remnant of mine other care
Ne set I not the 1mountance of a tare1, 1value of a straw1
So that I could do aught to your pleasance.”
And with that word he fell down in a trance
A longe time; and afterward upstart
This Palamon, that thought thorough his heart
He felt a cold sword suddenly to glide:
For ire he quoke1, no longer would he hide. 1quaked
And when that he had heard Arcite’s tale,
As he were wood1, with face dead and pale, 1mad
He start him up out of the bushes thick,
And said: “False Arcita, false traitor wick’1, 1wicked
Now art thou hent1, that lov’st my lady so, 1caught
For whom that I have all this pain and woe,
And art my blood, and to my counsel sworn,
As I full oft have told thee herebeforn,
And hast bejaped1 here Duke Theseus, 1deceived, imposed upon
And falsely changed hast thy name thus;
I will be dead, or elles thou shalt die.
Thou shalt not love my lady Emily,
But I will love her only and no mo’;
For I am Palamon thy mortal foe.
And though I have no weapon in this place,
But out of prison am astart1 by grace, 1escaped
I dreade1 not that either thou shalt die, 1doubt
Or else thou shalt not loven Emily.
Choose which thou wilt, for thou shalt not astart.”
This Arcite then, with full dispiteous1 heart, 1wrathful
When he him knew, and had his tale heard,
As fierce as lion pulled out a swerd,
And saide thus; “By God that sitt’th above,
1N’ere it1 that thou art sick, and wood for love, 1were it not1
And eke that thou no weap’n hast in this place,
Thou should’st never out of this grove pace,
That thou ne shouldest dien of mine hand.
For I defy the surety and the band,
Which that thou sayest I have made to thee.
What? very fool, think well that love is free;
And I will love her maugre1 all thy might. 1despite
But, for thou art a worthy gentle knight,
And 1wilnest to darraine her by bataille1, 1will reclaim her
Have here my troth, to-morrow I will not fail, by combat1
Without weeting1 of any other wight, 1knowledge
That here I will be founden as a knight,
And bringe harness1 right enough for thee; 1armour and arms
And choose the best, and leave the worst for me.
And meat and drinke this night will I bring
Enough for thee, and clothes for thy bedding.
And if so be that thou my lady win,
And slay me in this wood that I am in,
Thou may’st well have thy lady as for me.”
This Palamon answer’d, “I grant it thee.”
And thus they be departed till the morrow,
When each of them hath 1laid his faith to borrow1. 1pledged his faith1
O Cupid, out of alle charity!
O Regne1 that wilt no fellow have with thee! 1queen
Full sooth is said, that love nor lordeship
Will not, 1his thanks1, have any fellowship. 1thanks to him1
Well finden that Arcite and Palamon.
Arcite is ridd anon unto the town,
And on the morrow, ere it were daylight,
Full privily two harness hath he dight1, 1prepared
Both suffisant and meete to darraine1 1contest
The battle in the field betwixt them twain.
And on his horse, alone as he was born,
He carrieth all this harness him beforn;
And in the grove, at time and place y-set,
This Arcite and this Palamon be met.
Then change gan the colour of their face;
Right as the hunter in the regne1 of Thrace 1kingdom
That standeth at a gappe with a spear
When hunted is the lion or the bear,
And heareth him come rushing in the greves1, 1groves
And breaking both the boughes and the leaves,
Thinketh, “Here comes my mortal enemy,
Withoute fail, he must be dead or I;
For either I must slay him at the gap;
Or he must slay me, if that me mishap:”
So fared they, in changing of their hue
1As far as either of them other knew1. 1When they recognised each
There was no good day, and no saluting, other afar off1
But straight, withoute wordes rehearsing,
Evereach of them holp to arm the other,
As friendly, as he were his owen brother.
And after that, with sharpe speares strong
They foined1 each at other wonder long. 1thrust
Thou mightest weene1, that this Palamon 1think
In fighting were as a wood1 lion, 1mad
And as a cruel tiger was Arcite:
As wilde boars gan they together smite,
That froth as white as foam, 1for ire wood1. 1mad with anger1
Up to the ancle fought they in their blood.
And in this wise I let them fighting dwell,
And forth I will of Theseus you tell.
The Destiny, minister general,
That executeth in the world o’er all
The purveyance1, that God hath seen beforn; 1foreordination
So strong it is, that though the world had sworn
The contrary of a thing by yea or nay,
Yet some time it shall fallen on a day
That falleth not eft1 in a thousand year. 1again
For certainly our appetites here,
Be it of war, or peace, or hate, or love,
All is this ruled by the sight1 above. 1eye, intelligence, power
This mean I now by mighty Theseus,
That for to hunten is so desirous —
And namely1 the greate hart in May — 1especially
That in his bed there dawneth him no day
That he n’is clad, and ready for to ride
With hunt and horn, and houndes him beside.
For in his hunting hath he such delight,
That it is all his joy and appetite
To be himself the greate harte’s bane1 1destruction
For after Mars he serveth now Diane.
Clear was the day, as I have told ere this,
And Theseus, with alle joy and bliss,
With his Hippolyta, the faire queen,
And Emily, y-clothed all in green,
On hunting be they ridden royally.
And to the grove, that stood there faste by,
In which there was an hart, as men him told,
Duke Theseus the straighte way doth hold,
And to the laund1 he rideth him full right, 1plain
There was the hart y-wont to have his flight,
And over a brook, and so forth on his way.
This Duke will have a course at him or tway
With houndes, such as him lust1 to command. 1pleased
And when this Duke was come to the laund,
Under the sun he looked, and anon
He was ware of Arcite and Palamon,
That foughte breme1, as it were bulles two. 1fiercely
The brighte swordes wente to and fro
So hideously, that with the leaste stroke
It seemed that it woulde fell an oak,
But what they were, nothing yet he wote1. 1knew
This Duke his courser with his spurres smote,
1And at a start1 he was betwixt them two, 1suddenly1
And pulled out a sword and cried, “Ho!
No more, on pain of losing of your head.
By mighty Mars, he shall anon be dead
That smiteth any stroke, that I may see!
But tell to me what mister1 men ye be, 1manner, kind
That be so hardy for to fighte here
Withoute judge or other officer,
As though it were in listes royally.
This Palamon answered hastily,
And saide: “Sir, what needeth wordes mo’?
We have the death deserved bothe two,
Two woful wretches be we, and caitives,
That be accumbered1 of our own lives, 1burdened
And as thou art a rightful lord and judge,
So give us neither mercy nor refuge.
And slay me first, for sainte charity,
But slay my fellow eke as well as me.
Or slay him first; for, though thou know it lite1, 1little
This is thy mortal foe, this is Arcite
That from thy land is banisht on his head,
For which he hath deserved to be dead.
For this is he that came unto thy gate
And saide, that he highte Philostrate.
Thus hath he japed1 thee full many year, 1deceived
And thou hast made of him thy chief esquier;
And this is he, that loveth Emily.
For since the day is come that I shall die
I make pleinly1 my confession, 1fully, unreservedly
That I am thilke1 woful Palamon, 1that same
That hath thy prison broken wickedly.
I am thy mortal foe, and it am I
That so hot loveth Emily the bright,
That I would die here present in her sight.
Therefore I aske death and my jewise1. 1judgement
But slay my fellow eke in the same wise,
For both we have deserved to be slain.”
This worthy Duke answer’d anon again,
And said, “This is a short conclusion.
Your own mouth, by your own confession
Hath damned you, and I will it record;
It needeth not to pain you with the cord;
Ye shall be dead, by mighty Mars the Red.
The queen anon for very womanhead
Began to weep, and so did Emily,
And all the ladies in the company.
Great pity was it as it thought them all,
That ever such a chance should befall,
For gentle men they were, of great estate,
And nothing but for love was this debate
They saw their bloody woundes wide and sore,
And cried all at once, both less and more,
“Have mercy, Lord, upon us women all.”
And on their bare knees adown they fall
And would have kissed his feet there as he stood,
Till at the last 1aslaked was his mood1 1his anger was
(For pity runneth soon in gentle heart); appeased1
And though at first for ire he quoke and start
He hath consider’d shortly in a clause
The trespass of them both, and eke the cause:
And although that his ire their guilt accused
Yet in his reason he them both excused;
As thus; he thoughte well that every man
Will help himself in love if that he
can,
And eke deliver himself out of prison.
Of women, for they wepten ever-in-one:1 1continually
And eke his hearte had compassion
And in his gentle heart he thought anon,
And soft unto himself he saide: “Fie
Upon a lord that will have no mercy,
But be a lion both in word and deed,
To them that be in repentance and dread,
As well as-to a proud dispiteous1 man 1unpitying
That will maintaine what he first began.
That lord hath little of discretion,
That in such case 1can no division1: 1can make no distinction1
But weigheth pride and humbless 1after one1.” 1alike1
And shortly, when his ire is thus agone,
He gan to look on them with eyen light1, 1gentle, lenient1
And spake these same wordes 1all on height.1 1aloud1
“The god of love, ah! benedicite1, 1bless ye him
How mighty and how great a lord is he!
Against his might there gaine1 none obstacles, 1avail, conquer
He may be called a god for his miracles
For he can maken at his owen guise
Of every heart, as that him list devise.
Lo here this Arcite, and this Palamon,
That quietly were out of my prison,
And might have lived in Thebes royally,
And weet1 I am their mortal enemy, 1knew
And that their death li’th in my might also,
And yet hath love, 1maugre their eyen two1, 1in spite of their eyes1
Y-brought them hither bothe for to die.
Now look ye, is not this an high folly?
Who may not be a fool, if but he love?
Behold, for Godde’s sake that sits above,
See how they bleed! be they not well array’d?
Thus hath their lord, the god of love, them paid
Their wages and their fees for their service;
And yet they weene for to be full wise,
That serve love, for aught that may befall.
But this is yet the beste game1 of all, 1joke
That she, for whom they have this jealousy,
Can them therefor as muchel thank as me.
She wot no more of all this 1hote fare1, 1hot behaviour1
By God, than wot a cuckoo or an hare.
But all must be assayed hot or cold;
A man must be a fool, or young or old;
I wot it by myself 1full yore agone1: 1long years ago1
For in my time a servant was I one.
And therefore since I know of love’s pain,
And wot how sore it can a man distrain1, 1distress
As he that oft hath been caught in his last1, 1snare
I you forgive wholly this trespass,