by Homer
At request of the queen that kneeleth here,
And eke of Emily, my sister dear.
And ye shall both anon unto me swear,
That never more ye shall my country dere1 1injure
Nor make war upon me night nor day,
But be my friends in alle that ye may.
I you forgive this trespass 1every deal1. 1completely1
And they him sware 1his asking1 fair and well, 1what he asked1
And him of lordship and of mercy pray’d,
And he them granted grace, and thus he said:
“To speak of royal lineage and richess,
Though that she were a queen or a princess,
Each of you both is worthy doubteless
To wedde when time is; but natheless
I speak as for my sister Emily,
For whom ye have this strife and jealousy,
Ye wot1 yourselves, she may not wed the two 1know
At once, although ye fight for evermo:
But one of you, 1all be him loth or lief,1 1whether or not he wishes1
He must 1go pipe into an ivy leaf1: 1”go whistle”1
This is to say, she may not have you both,
All be ye never so jealous, nor so wroth.
And therefore I you put in this degree,
That each of you shall have his destiny
As 1him is shape1; and hearken in what wise 1as is decreed for him1
Lo hear your end of that I shall devise.
My will is this, for plain conclusion
Withouten any replication1, 1reply
If that you liketh, take it for the best,
That evereach of you shall go where 1him lest1, 1he pleases
Freely without ransom or danger;
And this day fifty weekes, 1farre ne nerre1, 1neither more nor less1
Evereach of you shall bring an hundred knights,
Armed for listes up at alle rights
All ready to darraine1 her by bataille, 1contend for
And this behete1 I you withoute fail 1promise
Upon my troth, and as I am a knight,
That whether of you bothe that hath might,
That is to say, that whether he or thou
May with his hundred, as I spake of now,
Slay his contrary, or out of listes drive,
Him shall I given Emily to wive,
To whom that fortune gives so fair a grace.
The listes shall I make here in this place.
1And God so wisly on my soule rue1, 1may God as surely have
As I shall even judge be and true. mercy on my soul1
Ye shall none other ende with me maken
Than one of you shalle be dead or taken.
And if you thinketh this is well y-said,
Say your advice1, and hold yourselves apaid2. 1opinion 2satisfied
This is your end, and your conclusion.”
Who looketh lightly now but Palamon?
Who springeth up for joye but Arcite?
Who could it tell, or who could it indite,
The joye that is maked in the place
When Theseus hath done so fair a grace?
But down on knees went every 1manner wight1, 1kind of person1
And thanked him with all their heartes’ might,
And namely1 these Thebans 1ofte sithe1. 1especially 1oftentimes1
And thus with good hope and with hearte blithe
They take their leave, and homeward gan they ride
To Thebes-ward, with his old walles wide.
I trow men woulde deem it negligence,
If I forgot to telle the dispence1 1expenditure
Of Theseus, that went so busily
To maken up the listes royally,
That such a noble theatre as it was,
I dare well say, in all this world there n’as1. 1was not
The circuit a mile was about,
Walled of stone, and ditched all without.
1Round was the shape, in manner of compass,
Full of degrees, the height of sixty pas1 1see note 1
That when a man was set on one degree
He letted1 not his fellow for to see. 1hindered
Eastward there stood a gate of marble white,
Westward right such another opposite.
And, shortly to conclude, such a place
Was never on earth made in so little space,
For in the land there was no craftes-man,
That geometry or arsmetrike1 can2, 1arithmetic 2knew
Nor pourtrayor1, nor carver of images, 1portrait painter
That Theseus ne gave him meat and wages
The theatre to make and to devise.
And for to do his rite and sacrifice
He eastward hath upon the gate above,
In worship of Venus, goddess of love,
1Done make1 an altar and an oratory; 1caused to be made1
And westward, in the mind and in memory
Of Mars, he maked hath right such another,
That coste largely of gold a fother1. 1a great amount
And northward, in a turret on the wall,
Of alabaster white and red coral
An oratory riche for to see,
In worship of Diane of chastity,
Hath Theseus done work in noble wise.
But yet had I forgotten to devise1 1describe
The noble carving, and the portraitures,
The shape, the countenance of the figures
That weren in there oratories three.
First in the temple of Venus may’st thou see
Wrought on the wall, full piteous to behold,
The broken sleepes, and the sikes1 cold, 1sighes
The sacred teares, and the waimentings1, 1lamentings
The fiery strokes of the desirings,
That Love’s servants in this life endure;
The oathes, that their covenants assure.
Pleasance and Hope, Desire, Foolhardiness,
Beauty and Youth, and Bawdry and Richess,
Charms and Sorc’ry, Leasings1 and Flattery, 1falsehoods
Dispence, Business, and Jealousy,
That wore of yellow goldes1 a garland, 1sunflowers
And had a cuckoo sitting on her hand,
Feasts, instruments, and caroles and dances,
Lust and array, and all the circumstances
Of Love, which I reckon’d and reckon shall
In order, were painted on the wall,
And more than I can make of mention.
For soothly all the mount of Citheron,
Where Venus hath her principal dwelling,
Was showed on the wall in pourtraying,
With all the garden, and the lustiness1. 1pleasantness
Nor was forgot the porter Idleness,
Nor Narcissus the fair of 1yore agone1, 1olden times1
Nor yet the folly of King Solomon,
Nor yet the greate strength of Hercules,
Th’ enchantments of Medea and Circes,
Nor of Turnus the hardy fierce courage,
The rich Croesus 1caitif in servage.1 1abased into slavery1
Thus may ye see, that wisdom nor richess,
Beauty, nor sleight, nor strength, nor hardiness
Ne may with Venus holde champartie1, 1divided possession
For as her liste the world may she gie1. 1guide
Lo, all these folk so caught were in her las1 1snare
Till they for woe full often said, Alas!
Suffice these ensamples one or two,
Although I could reckon a thousand mo’.
The statue of Venus, glorious to see
Was naked floating in the large sea,
And from the navel down all cover’d was
With waves green, and bright as any glass.
A citole in her right hand hadde she,
And on her head, full seemly for to see,
A rose garland fresh, and well smelling,
Abov
e her head her doves flickering
Before her stood her sone Cupido,
Upon his shoulders winges had he two;
And blind he was, as it is often seen;
A bow he bare, and arrows bright and keen.
Why should I not as well eke tell you all
The portraiture, that was upon the wall
Within the temple of mighty Mars the Red?
All painted was the wall in length and brede1 1breadth
Like to the estres1 of the grisly place 1interior chambers
That hight the great temple of Mars in Thrace,
In thilke1 cold and frosty region, 1that
There as Mars hath his sovereign mansion.
In which there dwelled neither man nor beast,
With knotty gnarry1 barren trees old 1gnarled
Of stubbes sharp and hideous to behold;
In which there ran a rumble and a sough1, 1groaning noise
As though a storm should bursten every bough:
And downward from an hill under a bent1 1slope
There stood the temple of Mars Armipotent,
Wrought all of burnish’d steel, of which th’ entry
Was long and strait, and ghastly for to see.
And thereout came 1a rage and such a vise1, 1such a furious voice1
That it made all the gates for to rise.
The northern light in at the doore shone,
For window on the walle was there none
Through which men mighten any light discern.
The doors were all of adamant etern,
Y-clenched 1overthwart and ende-long1 1crossways and lengthways1
With iron tough, and, for to make it strong,
Every pillar the temple to sustain
Was tunne-great1, of iron bright and sheen. 1thick as a tun (barrel)
There saw I first the dark imagining
Of felony, and all the compassing;
The cruel ire, as red as any glede1, 1live coal
The picke-purse, and eke the pale dread;
The smiler with the knife under the cloak,
The shepen1 burning with the blacke smoke 1stable
The treason of the murd’ring in the bed,
The open war, with woundes all be-bled;
Conteke1 with bloody knife, and sharp menace. 1contention, discord
All full of chirking1 was that sorry place. 1creaking, jarring noise
The slayer of himself eke saw I there,
His hearte-blood had bathed all his hair:
The nail y-driven in the shode1 at night, 1hair of the head
The colde death, with mouth gaping upright.
Amiddes of the temple sat Mischance,
With discomfort and sorry countenance;
Eke saw I Woodness1 laughing in his rage, 1Madness
Armed Complaint, Outhees1, and fierce Outrage; 1Outcry
The carrain1 in the bush, with throat y-corve2, 1corpse 2slashed
A thousand slain, and not 1of qualm y-storve1; 1dead of sickness1
The tyrant, with the prey by force y-reft;
The town destroy’d, that there was nothing left.
Yet saw I brent1 the shippes hoppesteres, 1burnt
The hunter strangled with the wilde bears:
The sow freting1 the child right in the cradle; 1devouring
The cook scalded, for all his longe ladle.
Nor was forgot, 1by th’infortune of Mart1 1through the misfortune
The carter overridden with his cart; of war1
Under the wheel full low he lay adown.
There were also of Mars’ division,
The armourer, the bowyer1, and the smith, 1maker of bows
That forgeth sharp swordes on his stith1. 1anvil
And all above depainted in a tower
Saw I Conquest, sitting in great honour,
With thilke1 sharpe sword over his head 1that
Hanging by a subtle y-twined thread.
Painted the slaughter was of Julius,
Of cruel Nero, and Antonius:
Although at that time they were yet unborn,
Yet was their death depainted there beforn,
By menacing of Mars, right by figure,
So was it showed in that portraiture,
As is depainted in the stars above,
Who shall be slain, or elles dead for love.
Sufficeth one ensample in stories old,
I may not reckon them all, though I wo’ld.
The statue of Mars upon a carte1 stood 1chariot
Armed, and looked grim as he were wood1, 1mad
And over his head there shone two figures
Of starres, that be cleped in scriptures,
That one Puella, that other Rubeus.
This god of armes was arrayed thus:
A wolf there stood before him at his feet
With eyen red, and of a man he eat:
With subtle pencil painted was this story,
In redouting1 of Mars and of his glory. 1reverance, fear
Now to the temple of Dian the chaste
As shortly as I can I will me haste,
To telle you all the descriptioun.
Depainted be the walles up and down
Of hunting and of shamefast chastity.
There saw I how woful Calistope,
When that Dian aggrieved was with her,
Was turned from a woman to a bear,
And after was she made the lodestar1: 1pole star
Thus was it painted, I can say no far1; 1farther
Her son is eke a star as men may see.
There saw I Dane turn’d into a tree,
I meane not the goddess Diane,
But Peneus’ daughter, which that hight Dane.
There saw I Actaeon an hart y-maked1, 1made
For vengeance that he saw Dian all naked:
I saw how that his houndes have him caught,
And freten1 him, for that they knew him not. 1devour
Yet painted was, a little farthermore
How Atalanta hunted the wild boar;
And Meleager, and many other mo’,
For which Diana wrought them care and woe.
There saw I many another wondrous story,
The which me list not drawen to memory.
This goddess on an hart full high was set1, 1seated
With smalle houndes all about her feet,
And underneath her feet she had a moon,
Waxing it was, and shoulde wane soon.
In gaudy green her statue clothed was,
With bow in hand, and arrows in a case1. 1quiver
Her eyen caste she full low adown,
Where Pluto hath his darke regioun.
A woman travailing was her beforn,
But, for her child so longe was unborn,
Full piteously Lucina gan she call,
And saide; “Help, for thou may’st best of all.”
Well could he painte lifelike that it wrought;
With many a florin he the hues had bought.
Now be these listes made, and Theseus,
That at his greate cost arrayed thus
The temples, and the theatre every deal1, 1part
When it was done, him liked wonder well.
But stint1 I will of Theseus a lite2, 1cease speaking 2little
And speak of Palamon and of Arcite.
The day approacheth of their returning,
That evereach an hundred knights should bring,
The battle to darraine1 as I you told; 1contest
And to Athens, their covenant to hold,
Hath ev’reach of them brought an hundred knights,
Well-armed for the war at alle rights.
And sickerly1 there trowed2 many a man, 1surely 2believed
That never, sithen1 that the world began, 1since
For to speaken of knighthood of their hand,
As far as God hath maked sea and land,
Was, of so few, so noble a company.
<
br /> For every wight that loved chivalry,
And would, 1his thankes, have a passant name1, 1thanks to his own
Had prayed, that he might be of that game, efforts, have a
And well was him, that thereto chosen was. surpassing name1
For if there fell to-morrow such a case,
Ye knowe well, that every lusty knight,
That loveth par amour, and hath his might
Were it in Engleland, or elleswhere,
They would, their thankes, willen to be there,
T’ fight for a lady; Benedicite,
It were a lusty1 sighte for to see. 1pleasing
And right so fared they with Palamon;
With him there wente knightes many one.
Some will be armed in an habergeon,
And in a breast-plate, and in a gipon1; 1short doublet.
And some will have 1a pair of plates1 large; 1back and front armour1
And some will have a Prusse1 shield, or targe; 1Prussian
Some will be armed on their legges weel;
Some have an axe, and some a mace of steel.
There is no newe guise1, but it was old. 1fashion
Armed they weren, as I have you told,
Evereach after his opinion.
There may’st thou see coming with Palamon
Licurgus himself, the great king of Thrace:
Black was his beard, and manly was his face.
The circles of his eyen in his head
They glowed betwixte yellow and red,
And like a griffin looked he about,
With kemped1 haires on his browes stout; 1combed
His limbs were great, his brawns were hard and strong,
His shoulders broad, his armes round and long.
And as the guise1 was in his country, 1fashion
Full high upon a car of gold stood he,
With foure white bulles in the trace.
Instead of coat-armour on his harness,
With yellow nails, and bright as any gold,
He had a beare’s skin, coal-black for old1. 1age
His long hair was y-kempt behind his back,
As any raven’s feather it shone for black.
A wreath of gold 1arm-great1, of huge weight, 1thick as a man’s arm1
Upon his head sate, full of stones bright,
Of fine rubies and clear diamants.
About his car there wente white alauns1, 1greyhounds
Twenty and more, as great as any steer,
To hunt the lion or the wilde bear,
And follow’d him, with muzzle fast y-bound,
Collars of gold, and torettes1 filed round. 1rings
An hundred lordes had he in his rout1 1retinue
Armed full well, with heartes stern and stout.
With Arcita, in stories as men find,