The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems Part 11

To stenten* alle rancour and envy, -- *stop The gree* as well on one side as the other, *prize, merit And either side alike as other's brother: And gave them giftes after their degree, And held a feaste fully dayes three: And conveyed the kinges worthily Out of his town a journee* largely *day's journey And home went every man the righte way, There was no more but "Farewell, Have good day."

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

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

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

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

Nor drink of herbes may be his helping.

The virtue expulsive or animal, From thilke virtue called natural, Nor may the venom voide, nor expel The pipes of his lungs began to swell And every lacert* in his breast adown *sinew, muscle Is shent* with venom and corruption. *destroyed Him gaineth* neither, for to get his life, *availeth Vomit upward, nor downward laxative; All is to-bursten thilke region; Nature hath now no domination.

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

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

"Nought may the woful spirit in mine heart Declare one point of all my sorrows' smart To you, my lady, that I love the most: But I bequeath the service of my ghost To you aboven every creature, Since that my life ne may no longer dure.

Alas the woe! alas, the paines strong That I for you have suffered and so long!

Alas the death, alas, mine Emily!

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

Mine hearte's lady, ender of my life!

What is this world? what aske men to have?

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

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

I have here with my cousin Palamon Had strife and rancour many a day agone, For love of you, and for my jealousy.

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

To speaken of a servant properly, With alle circ.u.mstances truely, That is to say, truth, honour, and knighthead, Wisdom, humbless*, estate, and high kindred, *humility Freedom, and all that longeth to that art, So Jupiter have of my soul part, As in this world right now I know not one, So worthy to be lov'd as Palamon, That serveth you, and will do all his life.

And if that you shall ever be a wife, Forget not Palamon, the gentle man."

And with that word his speech to fail began.

For from his feet up to his breast was come The cold of death, that had him overnome*. *overcome And yet moreover in his armes two The vital strength is lost, and all ago*. *gone Only the intellect, withoute more, That dwelled in his hearte sick and sore, Gan faile, when the hearte felte death; Dusked* his eyen two, and fail'd his breath. *grew dim But on his lady yet he cast his eye; His laste word was; "Mercy, Emily!"

His spirit changed house, and wente there, As I came never I cannot telle where.<84> Therefore I stent*, I am no divinister**; *refrain **diviner Of soules find I nought in this register.

Ne me list not th' opinions to tell Of them, though that they writen where they dwell; Arcite is cold, there Mars his soule gie.* *guide Now will I speake forth of Emily.

Shriek'd Emily, and howled Palamon, And Theseus his sister took anon Swooning, and bare her from the corpse away.

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

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

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

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

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

No manner man might gladden Theseus, Saving his olde father Egeus, That knew this worlde's trans.m.u.tatioun, As he had seen it changen up and down, Joy after woe, and woe after gladness; And shewed him example and likeness.

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

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

And over all this said he yet much more To this effect, full wisely to exhort The people, that they should them recomfort.

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

Of good Arcite may best y-maked be, And eke most honourable in his degree.

And at the last he took conclusion, That there as first Arcite and Palamon Hadde for love the battle them between, That in that selve* grove, sweet and green, *self-same There as he had his amorous desires, His complaint, and for love his hote fires, He woulde make a fire*, in which th' office *funeral pyre Of funeral he might all accomplice; And *let anon command* to hack and hew *immediately gave orders*

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

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

And after this, Duke Theseus hath sent After a bier, and it all oversprad With cloth of gold, the richest that he had; And of the same suit he clad Arcite.

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

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

Therewith he wept, that pity was to hear.

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

Then came this woful Theban, Palamon, With s.l.u.ttery beard, and ruggy ashy hairs,<85> In clothes black, y-dropped all with tears, And (pa.s.sing over weeping Emily) The ruefullest of all the company.

And *inasmuch as* the service should be *in order that*

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

And covered with the arms of Dan Arcite.

Upon these steedes, that were great and white, There satte folk, of whom one bare his s.h.i.+eld, Another his spear in his handes held; The thirde bare with him his bow Turkeis*, *Turkish.

Of brent* gold was the case** and the harness: *burnished **quiver And ride forth *a pace* with sorrowful cheer** *at a foot pace*

Toward the grove, as ye shall after hear. **expression

The n.o.blest of the Greekes that there were Upon their shoulders carried the bier, With slacke pace, and eyen red and wet, Throughout the city, by the master* street, *main <86> That spread was all with black, and wondrous high Right of the same is all the street y-wrie.* *covered <87> Upon the right hand went old Egeus, And on the other side Duke Theseus, With vessels in their hand of gold full fine, All full of honey, milk, and blood, and wine; Eke Palamon, with a great company; And after that came woful Emily, With fire in hand, as was that time the guise*, *custom To do th' office of funeral service.

High labour, and full great appareling* *preparation Was at the service, and the pyre-making, That with its greene top the heaven raught*, *reached And twenty fathom broad its armes straught*: *stretched This is to say, the boughes were so broad.

Of straw first there was laid many a load.

But how the pyre was maked up on height, And eke the names how the trees hight*, *were called As oak, fir, birch, asp*, alder, holm, poplere, *aspen Willow, elm, plane, ash, box, chestnut, lind*, laurere, *linden, lime Maple, thorn, beech, hazel, yew, whipul tree, How they were fell'd, shall not be told for me; Nor how the G.o.ddes* rannen up and down *the forest deities Disinherited of their habitatioun, In which they wonned* had in rest and peace, *dwelt Nymphes, Faunes, and Hamadryades; Nor how the beastes and the birdes all Fledden for feare, when the wood gan fall; Nor how the ground aghast* was of the light, *terrified That was not wont to see the sunne bright; Nor how the fire was couched* first with stre**, *laid **straw And then with dry stickes cloven in three, And then with greene wood and spicery*, *spices And then with cloth of gold and with pierrie*, *precious stones And garlands hanging with full many a flower, The myrrh, the incense with so sweet odour; Nor how Arcita lay among all this, Nor what richess about his body is; Nor how that Emily, as was the guise*, *custom *Put in the fire* of funeral service<88>; *appplied the torch*

Nor how she swooned when she made the fire, Nor what she spake, nor what was her desire; Nor what jewels men in the fire then cast When that the fire was great and burned fast;

Nor how some cast their s.h.i.+eld, and some their spear, And of their vestiments, which that they wear, And cuppes full of wine, and milk, and blood, Into the fire, that burnt as it were wood*; *mad Nor how the Greekes with a huge rout* *procession Three times riden all the fire about <89> Upon the left hand, with a loud shouting, And thries with their speares clattering; And thries how the ladies gan to cry; Nor how that led was homeward Emily; Nor how Arcite is burnt to ashes cold; Nor how the lyke-wake* was y-hold *wake <90> All thilke* night, nor how the Greekes play *that The wake-plays*, ne keep** I not to say: *funeral games **care Who wrestled best naked, with oil anoint, Nor who that bare him best *in no disjoint*. *in any contest*

I will not tell eke how they all are gone Home to Athenes when the play is done; But shortly to the point now will I wend*, *come And maken of my longe tale an end.

By process and by length of certain years All stinted* is the mourning and the tears *ended Of Greekes, by one general a.s.sent.

Then seemed me there was a parlement At Athens, upon certain points and cas*: *cases Amonge the which points y-spoken was To have with certain countries alliance, And have of Thebans full obeisance.

For which this n.o.ble Theseus anon Let* send after the gentle Palamon, *caused Unwist* of him what was the cause and why: *unknown But in his blacke clothes sorrowfully He came at his commandment *on hie*; *in haste*

Then sente Theseus for Emily.

When they were set*, and hush'd was all the place *seated And Theseus abided* had a s.p.a.ce *waited Ere any word came from his wise breast *His eyen set he there as was his lest*, *he cast his eyes And with a sad visage he sighed still, wherever he pleased*

And after that right thus he said his will.

"The firste mover of the cause above When he first made the faire chain of love, Great was th' effect, and high was his intent; Well wist he why, and what thereof he meant: For with that faire chain of love he bond* *bound The fire, the air, the water, and the lond In certain bondes, that they may not flee:<91> That same prince and mover eke," quoth he, "Hath stablish'd, in this wretched world adown, Certain of dayes and duration To all that are engender'd in this place, Over the whiche day they may not pace*, *pa.s.s All may they yet their dayes well abridge.

There needeth no authority to allege For it is proved by experience; But that me list declare my sentence*. *opinion Then may men by this order well discern, That thilke* mover stable is and etern. *the same Well may men know, but that it be a fool, That every part deriveth from its whole.

For nature hath not ta'en its beginning Of no *partie nor cantle* of a thing, *part or piece*

But of a thing that perfect is and stable, Descending so, till it be corruptable.

And therefore of His wise purveyance* *providence He hath so well beset* his ordinance, That species of things and progressions Shallen endure by successions, And not etern, withouten any lie: This mayst thou understand and see at eye.

Lo th' oak, that hath so long a nouris.h.i.+ng From the time that it 'ginneth first to spring, And hath so long a life, as ye may see, Yet at the last y-wasted is the tree.

Consider eke, how that the harde stone Under our feet, on which we tread and gon*, *walk Yet wasteth, as it lieth by the way.

The broade river some time waxeth drey*. *dry The greate townes see we wane and wend*. *go, disappear Then may ye see that all things have an end.

Of man and woman see we well also, -- That needes in one of the termes two, -- That is to say, in youth or else in age,- He must be dead, the king as shall a page; Some in his bed, some in the deepe sea, Some in the large field, as ye may see: There helpeth nought, all go that ilke* way: *same Then may I say that alle thing must die.

What maketh this but Jupiter the king?

The which is prince, and cause of alle thing, Converting all unto his proper will, From which it is derived, sooth to tell And hereagainst no creature alive, Of no degree, availeth for to strive.

Then is it wisdom, as it thinketh me, To make a virtue of necessity, And take it well, that we may not eschew*, *escape And namely what to us all is due.

And whoso grudgeth* ought, he doth folly, *murmurs at And rebel is to him that all may gie*. *direct, guide And certainly a man hath most honour To dien in his excellence and flower, When he is sicker* of his goode name. *certain Then hath he done his friend, nor him*, no shame *himself And gladder ought his friend be of his death, When with honour is yielded up his breath, Than when his name *appalled is for age*; *decayed by old age*

For all forgotten is his va.s.salage*. *valour, service Then is it best, as for a worthy fame, To dien when a man is best of name.

The contrary of all this is wilfulness.

Why grudge we, why have we heaviness, That good Arcite, of chivalry the flower, Departed is, with duty and honour, Out of this foule prison of this life?

Why grudge here his cousin and his wife Of his welfare, that loved him so well?

Can he them thank? nay, G.o.d wot, neverdeal*, -- *not a jot That both his soul and eke themselves offend*, *hurt And yet they may their l.u.s.tes* not amend**. *desires **control What may I conclude of this longe serie*, *string of remarks But after sorrow I rede* us to be merry, *counsel And thanke Jupiter for all his grace?

And ere that we departe from this place, I rede that we make of sorrows two One perfect joye lasting evermo': And look now where most sorrow is herein, There will I first amenden and begin.

"Sister," quoth he, "this is my full a.s.sent, With all th' advice here of my parlement, That gentle Palamon, your owen knight, That serveth you with will, and heart, and might, And ever hath, since first time ye him knew, That ye shall of your grace upon him rue*, *take pity And take him for your husband and your lord: Lend me your hand, for this is our accord.

*Let see* now of your womanly pity. *make display*

He is a kinge's brother's son, pardie*. *by G.o.d And though he were a poore bachelere, Since he hath served you so many a year, And had for you so great adversity, It muste be considered, *'lieveth me*. *believe me*

For gentle mercy *oweth to pa.s.sen right*." *ought to be rightly Then said he thus to Palamon the knight; directed*

"I trow there needeth little sermoning To make you a.s.sente to this thing.

Come near, and take your lady by the hand."

Betwixte them was made anon the band, That hight matrimony or marriage, By all the counsel of the baronage.

And thus with alle bliss and melody Hath Palamon y-wedded Emily.