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Conteke with blody knif, and sharp manace:
All full of chirking was that sory place.
The sleer of himself yet saw I there,
His herte-blood hath bathed all his here:
The naile ydriven in the shode on hight,
The colde deth, with mouth gaping upright,
Amiddes of the temple sate mischance,
With discomfort and sory countenance.
Yet saw I woodnesse laughing in his rage.
Armed complaint, outhees, and fiers outrage;
The carraine in the bush, with throte ycorven, Lo, all these folk so caught were in hire las
A thousand slain, and not of qualme ystorven ; 151 they for wo ful often said Alas. Sufficeth here ensamples on or two,
The tirant, with the prey by force yraft;
The toun destroied, ther was nothing laft.
Yet saw I brent the shippes hoppesteres,
The hunte ystrangled with the wilde beres:
The sow freting the child right in the cradel;
Nought was foryete by th' infortune of Marte
The carter overridden with his carte;
Under the wheel ful low he lay adoun.
Ther were also of Martes division,
Th’armerer, and the bowyer, and the smith,
That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his stith.
And all above depeinted in a tour
With thilke sharp swerd over his hed
Yhanging by a subtil twined thred.
All be that thilke time they were unborne,
By manacing of Mars, right by figure,
So was it shewed in that purtreiture
As is depeinted in the cercles above,
Who shal be slaine or elles ded for love.
Sufficeth on ensample in stories olde,
I may not reken hem alle, though I wolde.
The statue of Mars upon a carte stood
Armed, and toked grim as he were wood,
And over his hed ther shinen two figures
Of sterres, that ben eleped in scriptures,
That or Puella, that other Rubeus.
This god of armes was arraied thus :
A wolf ther stood beforne him at his fete
With eyen red, and of a man he ete:
With subtil pensil peinted was this storie,
In redouting of Mars and of his glorie.
Now to the temple of Diane the chaste
As shortly as I can I wol me haste,
To tellen you of the descriptioun,
Depeinted by the walles up and doun,
Of hunting and of shamefast chastitee.
Ther saw I how woful Calistope,
Whan that Diane agreved was with here,
Was turned from a woman til a bere,
And after was she made the lodesterre:
Thus was it peinted, I can say no ferre;
Hire sone is eke a sterre as men may see,
Ther saw I Dane yturned til a tree,
mene not hire the goddesse Diane, The open werre, with woundes all bebledde ; But Peneus daughter, which that highte Dane
Ther saw I Atteon an hart ymaked,
vengeance that he saw Diane all naked
This goddesse on an hart ful heye sete,
Now ben these listes made, and Theseus
The day approcheth of hir returning,
And right so ferden they with Palamon.
Everich after his opinion.
There maist thou se coming with Palamon
With Arcita, in stories as men find,
And in this wise, these lordes all and some
Abouten prime, and in the town alight.
This Theseus, this duk, this worthy knight,
The Sonday night, or day began to spring,
** Fayrest of fayre, o lady inin Venus,
myn humble praier at thin herte.
Thy tomple wol I worship evermo,
Whan the orison was don of Palamon,
The thridde houre inequal that Palamon
Whan kindled was the fire, with pitous chere Unto Diane she spake, as ye may here,
* O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene, To whom both Heven and erthe and see is sene, Quene of the regne of Pluto, derke and lowe, Goddesse of maydens, that inin herte hast knowe Ful many a yere, and wost what I desire, As kepe me fro thy vengeance and thin ire, That Atteon aboughte cruelly: Chaste goddesse, wel wotest thou that I Desire to ben a mayden all my lif, Ne never wol I be no love ne wif. I am (thou wost) yet of thy compagnie, A mayde, and love hunting and venerie, And for to walken in the wodes wilde, And not to ben a wif, and be with childe, Nought wol I knowen compagnie of man. Now help ine, lady, sith ye may and can,
For tho three formes that thou hast in thee.
And hast in every regne and every lond And Palamon, that hath swiche love to me,
Of armes all the bridel in thin hond, And eke Arcite, that loveth me so sore,
And hem fortunest as thee list devise, This grace I praje thee withouten more;
Accept of me my pitous sacrifise. As sende love and pees betwix hem two:
If so be that my youthe may deserve, And fro me torne away hir hertes so,
And that my might be worthy for to serve That all his hote love, and hir desire,
Thy godhed, that I may ben on of thine, And all hir besy torment, and hir fire
Than praie I thee to rewe upon my pine, Be queinte, or torned in another place.
For thilke peine, and thilke hote fire, And if so be thou wolt not do me grace,
In which thou whilom brendest for desire Or if my destinee be shapen so,
Whanne that thou usedst the beautee That I shal nedes have on of bem two,
Of fayre yonge Venus, freshe and free, As send me him that most desireth me.
And haddest hire in armes at thy wille: “ Behold, goddesse of clene chastito,
Although thee ones on a time misfille, The bitter teres, that on my chekes fall.
Whan Vulcanus had caught thee in his las, Sin thou art mayde, and keper of us all,
And fond the ligging by his wif, alas ! My maydenhed thou kepe and wel conserve,
For thilke sorwe that was tho in thin herte, And while I live, a mayde I wol thee serve." Have reuthe as wel upon my peines smerte. The fires brenne upon the auter clere,
“I am yonge and unkonning, as thou wost, While Emelie was thus in hire praiere:
And, as I trow, with love offended most, But sodenly she saw a sighte queinte.
That ever was ony lives creature: For right anon on of the fires queinte,
For she, that doth me all this wo endure, And quiked again, and after that anon
Ne recceth never, whether I sinke or flete. That other fire was queinte, and all agon:
And wel I wot, or she me mercy hete, And as it queinte, it made a whisteling,
I moste with strengthe win hire in the place: As don these brondes wet in hir brenning.
And wel I wot, withouten helpe or grace And at the brondes ende outran anon
Of thee, he may my strengthe not availle: As it were blody dropes many on:
Than helpe me, lord, to-morwe in my bataille. For which so sure agast was Emelie,
Fore thilke fire that whilom brenned thee, That she was wel neigh mad, and gan to crie,
As wel as that this fire now brenneth me; For she ne wiste what it signified ;
And do, that I to-morwe may han victorie. But only for the fere thus she cried,
Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie. And wept, that it was pittee for to here.
Thy soveraine temple wol I most honouren And therwithall Diane gan appere
Of ony place, and alway most labouren With bowe in hond, right as an hunteresse, In thy plesance and in thy craftes strong. And sayde; “ Doughter, stint thin hevinesse. And in thy temple I wol my baner hong, Among the goddes highe it is affermed,
And all the armes of my compagnie, And by eterne word written and confermed, And evermore, until that day I die, Thou shalt be wedded unto on of tho,
Eterne fire I wol beforne thee finde, That han for thee so mochel care and wo:
And eke to this avow I wol me binde. But unto which of hem I may not tell.
My berd, my here that hangeth long adoun, Farewel, for here I may no longer dwell,
That never yet felt non offensioun The fires which that on min auter brenne,
Of rasour ne of shere, I wol thee yeve, Shal thee declaren er that thou go henne,
And ben thy trewe servant while I live. Thin aventure of love, as in this cas."
Now, lord, have reuthe upon my sorwes sore, And with that word, the arwes in the cas Yeve me the victorie, I axe thee no more.” Of the goddesse clatteren fast and ring,
The praier stint of Arcita the stronge, Aud forth she went, and made a vanishing, The ringes on the temple dore that honge, For which this Emelie astonied was,
And eke the dores clattereden ful faste, And sayde; “ What amounteth this, alas!
Of which Arcita somwhat him agaste. I putte me in thy protection,
The fires brent upon the auter bright, Diane, and in thy disposition.”
That it gan all the temple for to light; And home she goth anon the nexte way.
A sweete smell anon the ground up yal, This is the effecte, ther n'is no more to say.
And Arcita anon his hond up haf, The nexte houre of Mars folwing this,
And more encense into the fire he cast, Arcite unto the temple walked is
With other rites mo, and at the last Of fierce Mars, to don his sacrifise
The statue of Mars began his hauberke ring; With all the rites of his payen wise.
And with that soun he herd a murmuring With pitous herte and high devotion,
Ful low and dim, that sayde thus,“ Victorie.” Right thus to Mars he sayde his orison.
For which he yaf to Mars honour and glorie. “ O stronge god, that in the regnes cold
And thus with joye, and hope wel to fare, Of Trace honoured art, and lord yhold,
Arcite anon unto his inne is fare,
The sheldes brighte, testeres, and trappures :
Gold-hewen helmes, hauberkes, cote-armures;
Lordes in parementes on hir courseres,
Knightes of retenue, and eke squieres,
Nailing the speres, and helmes bokeling,
Gniding of sheldes, with lainers lacing;
Ther as nede is, they weren nothing idel:
The fomy stedes on the golden bridel
Gnawing, and fast the armureres also
With file and hammer priking to and fro;
Yemen on foot, and communes many on
With shorte staves, thicke as they may gon;
the old out-renne, but not out-rede. Pipes, trompes, nakeres, and clariounes,
That in the bataille blowen bloody sounes;
The paleis ful of peple up and doun,
Here three, ther ten, holding hir questioun,
Som sayden thus, som sayde it shal be so;
Som helden with him with the blacke berd,
Som with the balled, som with the thick herd;
Som saide he loked grim, and wolde fighte:
Thus was the halle full of devining
Long after that the Sonne gan up spring.
The gret Theseus that of his slepe is waked
With minstralcie and noise that was maked,
Held yet the chambre of his paleis riche,
Til that the Theban knightes bothe yliche
Honoured were, and to the paleis fette.
Duk Theseus is at a window sette,
Araied right as he were a god in trone:
The peple preseth thiderward ful sone
Him for to seen, and don high reverence,
And eke to herken his heste and his sentence.
An heraud on a scaffold made an O,
Till that the noise of the peple was ydo :
Thus shewed he the mighty dukes will.
“ The lord hath of his high discretion
Considered, that it were destruction
To gentil blood, to fighten in the gise
Wherfore to shapen that they shul not die,
He wol his firste purpos modifie.
“No man therfore up peine of losse of lif,
No maner shot, ne pollax, ne short knif
Into the listes send, or thider bring.
Ne short swerd for to stike with point biting
No man ne draw, ne bere it by his side,
Ne no man shal unto his felaw rid
But o cours, with a sharpe ygrounden spere:
Foin if him list on foot, himself to were.
And he that is at meschief, shal be take,
And not slaine, but be brought unto the stake,
That shal ben ordeined on eyther side,
Thider he shal by force, and ther abide.
And if so fall, the chevetain be take
On eyther side, or elles sleth his make,
No longer shal the tourneying ylast.
God spede you ; goth forth and lay on fast.
With longe swerd and with mase fighteth your fill.
Goth now your way; this is the lordes will,” Of goldsmithry, of brouding, and of stele;