Canterbury Tales and Other Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer (best summer reads .TXT) 📕

darkness horrible, and strong prison, This seven year hath sitten Palamon,

Forpined*, what for love, and for distress. pined, wasted away Who feeleth double sorrow and heaviness But Palamon? that love distraineth so, afflicts That wood out of his wits he went for woe, *mad And eke thereto he is a prisonere

Perpetual, not only for a year.

Who coulde rhyme in English properly

His martyrdom? forsooth*, it is not I; *truly Therefore I pass as lightly as I may.

It fell that in the seventh year, in May The thirde night (as olde bookes sayn, That all this story tellen more plain), Were it by a venture or destiny

(As when a thing is shapen* it shall be), *settled, decreed That soon after the midnight, Palamon

By helping of a friend brake his prison, And fled the city fast as he might go, For he had given drink his gaoler so

Of a clary <25>, made of a certain wine, With *narcotise and opie* of Thebes fine, narcotics and opium

That all the night, though that men would him shake, The gaoler slept, he mighte not awake: And thus he fled as fast as ever he may.

The night was short, and faste by the day close at hand was That needes cast he must himself to hide*. the day during which And to a grove faste there beside he must cast about, or contrive, With dreadful foot then stalked Palamon. to conceal himself.*

For shortly this was his opinion,

That in the grove he would him hide all day, And in the night then would he take his way To Thebes-ward, his friendes for to pray On Theseus to help him to warray*. *make war <26>

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 streames* drieth in the greves** rays *groves 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 point* of his desire, *object 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 greves, groves Were it of woodbine, or of hawthorn leaves, And loud he sang against the sun so sheen*. *shining 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 courser*, with a lusty heart, *horse 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 *trowed it full lite*. full little believed it

But sooth is said, gone since full many years, The field hath eyen*, and the wood hath ears, eyes It is full fair a man to bear him even, to be on his guard*

For all day meeten men at unset steven. *unexpected time <27>

Full little wot Arcite of his fellaw,

That was so nigh to hearken of his saw, saying, speech For in the bush he sitteth now full still.

When that Arcite had roamed all his fill, And *sungen all the roundel* lustily, sang the roundelay<28>

Into a study he fell suddenly,

As do those lovers in their *quainte gears, odd fashions*

Now in the crop*, and now down in the breres**, <29> tree-top Now up, now down, as bucket in a well. *briars Right as the Friday, soothly for to tell, Now shineth it, and now it raineth fast, Right so can geary* Venus overcast changeful The heartes of her folk, right as her day Is gearful, right so changeth she array. *changeful Seldom is Friday all the weeke like.

When Arcite had y-sung, he gan to sike, sigh And sat him down withouten any more:

“Alas!” quoth he, “the day that I was bore!

How longe, Juno, through thy cruelty

Wilt thou warrayen* Thebes the city? *torment 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 *so caitiff and so thrall, wretched and enslaved*

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 beknow* mine owen name, *acknowledge <30>

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 fordo undone, 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 brenningly burningly Y-sticked through my true careful heart, That shapen was my death erst than my shert. <31>

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 *mountance of a tare, value of a straw*

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 quoke*, no longer would he hide. quaked And when that he had heard Arcite’s tale, As he were wood, with face dead and pale, *mad He start him up out of the bushes thick, And said: “False Arcita, false traitor wick’, wicked Now art thou hent*, that lov’st my lady so, caught 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 bejaped here Duke Theseus, *deceived, 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 astart* by grace, escaped I dreade not that either thou shalt die, *doubt Or else thou shalt not loven Emily.

Choose which thou wilt, for thou shalt not astart.”

 

This Arcite then, with full dispiteous* heart, *wrathful 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, *N’ere it* that thou art sick, and wood for love, were it not

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 maugre* all thy might. despite But, for thou art a worthy gentle knight, And wilnest to darraine her by bataille, will reclaim her Have here my troth, to-morrow I will not fail, by combat*

Without weeting* of any other wight, knowledge That here I will be founden as a knight, And bringe harness right enough for thee; *armour 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 *laid his faith to borrow*. pledged his faith

 

O Cupid, out of alle charity!

O Regne* that wilt no fellow have with thee! *queen <32>

Full sooth is said, that love nor lordeship Will not, *his thanks*, have any fellowship. thanks to him

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 dight, prepared Both suffisant and meete to darraine contest 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 regne* of Thrace *kingdom That standeth at a gappe with a spear

When hunted is the lion or the bear,

And heareth him come rushing in the greves, groves 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 *As far as either of them other knew*. When they recognised each There was no good day, and no saluting, other afar off

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 foined* each at other wonder long. thrust Thou mightest weene, that this Palamon think In fighting were as a wood lion, *mad And as a cruel tiger was Arcite:

As wilde boars gan they together smite, That froth as white as foam, *for ire wood*. mad with anger

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 purveyance*, that God hath seen beforn; foreordination 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 eft in a thousand year. *again For certainly our appetites here,

Be it of war, or peace, or hate, or love, All is this ruled by the sight* above. *eye, intelligence, power This mean I now by mighty Theseus,

That for to hunten is so desirous —

And namely* the greate hart in May — *especially 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 bane destruction For after Mars he serveth now Diane.

Clear was