The Canterbury Tales · The Knight’s Tale 277 (1/8)

The Knight’s Tale277

Whilom,278 as oldë stories tellen us,

There was a duke that hightë279 Theseus.

Of Athens he was lord and governor,

And in his timë such a conqueror

That greater was there none under the sun.

Full many a richë country had he won.

What with his wisdom and his chivalry,

He conquer’d all the regne of Feminie,280

That whilom was y-cleped Scythia;

And weddedë the Queen Hippolyta,

And brought her home with him to his country

With muchel281 glory and great solemnity,

And eke her youngë sister Emily,

And thus with vict’ry and with melody

Let I this worthy Duke to Athens ride,

And all his host, in armës him beside.

And certes, if it n’ere282 too long to hear,

I would have told you fully the mannére,

How wonnen283 was the regne of Feminie,

By Theseus, and by his chivalry;

And of the greatë battle for the nonce

Betwixt Athenës and the Amazons;

And how assieged was Hippolyta,

The fairë hardy queen of Scythia;

And of the feast that was at her wedding,

And of the tempest at her homecoming.

But all these things I must as now forbear.

I have, God wot, a largë field to ear;284

And weakë be the oxen in my plough;

The remnant of my tale is long enow.

I will not letten eke none of this rout.285

Let every fellow tell his tale about,

And let see now who shall the supper win.

There as I left,286 I will again begin.

This Duke, of whom I makë mentioún,

When he was come almost unto the town,

In all his weal287 and in his mostë pride,

He was ware, as he cast his eye aside,

Where that there kneeled in the highë way

A company of ladies, tway and tway,

Each after other, clad in clothës black:

But such a cry and such a woe they make,

That in this world n’is creatúre living,

That heardë such another waimenting.288

And of this crying would they never stenten,289

Till they the reinës of his bridle henten.290

“What folk be ye that at mine homecoming

Perturben so my feastë with crying?”

Quoth Theseus; “Have ye so great envý

Of mine honoúr, that thus complain and cry?

Or who hath you misboden,291 or offended?

Do tellë me, if it may be amended;

And why that ye be clad thus all in black?”

The oldest lady of them all then spake,

When she had swooned, with a deadly cheer,292

That it was ruthë293 for to see or hear.

She saidë; “Lord, to whom fortúne hath given

Vict’ry, and as a conqueror to liven,

Nought grieveth us your glory and your honoúr;

But we beseechen mercy and succóur.

Have mercy on our woe and our distress;

Some drop of pity, through thy gentleness,

Upon us wretched women let now fall.

For certës, lord, there is none of us all

That hath not been a duchess or a queen;

Now be we caitives,294 as it is well seen:

Thanked be Fortune, and her falsë wheel,

That none estate ensureth to be wele.295

And certes, lord, t’ abiden your presénce

Here in this temple of the goddess Clemence

We have been waiting all this fortënight:

Now help us, lord, since it lies in thy might.

“I, wretched wight, that weep and wailë thus,

Was whilom wife to king Capaneus,

That starf296 at Thebes, cursed be that day:

And allë we that be in this array,

And maken all this lamentatioún,

We losten all our husbands at that town,

While that the siegë thereabouten lay.

And yet the oldë Creon, well-away!

That lord is now of Thebes the city,

Fulfilled of ire and of iniquity,

He for despite, and for his tyranny,

To do the deadë bodies villainy,297

Of all our lordës, which that been y-slaw,298

Hath all the bodies on an heap y-draw,

And will not suffer them by none assent

Neither to be y-buried, nor y-brent,299

But maketh houndës eat them in despite.”

And with that word, withoutë more respite

They fallen groff,300 and cryden piteously;

“Have on us wretched women some mercy,

And let our sorrow sinken in thine heart.”

This gentle Duke down from his courser start

With heartë piteous, when he heard them speak.

Him thoughtë that his heart would all to-break,

When he saw them so piteous and so mate,301

That whilom weren of so great estate.

And in his armës he them all up hent,302

And them comfórted in full good intent,

And swore his oath, as he was truë knight,

He wouldë do so farforthly his might303

Upon the tyrant Creon them to wreak,304

That all the people of Greecë shouldë speak,

How Creon was of Theseus y-served,

As he that had his death full well deserved.

And right anon withoutë more abode305

His banner he display’d, and forth he rode

To Thebes-ward, and all his host beside:

No ner306 Athenës would he go nor ride,

Nor take his easë fully half a day,

But onward on his way that night he lay:

And sent anon Hippolyta the queen,

And Emily her youngë sister sheen307

Unto the town of Athens for to dwell:

And forth he rit;308 there is no more to tell.

The red statúe of Mars with spear and targe

So shineth in his whitë banner large,

That all the fieldës glitter up and down:

And by his banner borne is his pennon

Of gold full rich, in which there was y-beat309

The Minotaur310 which that he slew in Crete.

Thus rit this Duke, thus rit this conquerour,

And in his host of chivalry the flower,

Till that he came to Thebes, and alight

Fair in a field, there as he thought to fight.

But shortly for to speaken of this thing,

With Creon, which that was of Thebes king,

He fought, and slew him manly as a knight

In plain batáille, and put his folk to flight:

And by assault he won the city after,

And rent adown both wall, and spar, and rafter;

And to the ladies he restored again

The bodies of their husbands that were slain,

To do obséquies, as was then the guise.311

But it were all too long for to devise312

The greatë clamour, and the waimenting,313

Which that the ladies made at the brenning314

Of the bodiës, and the great honour

That Theseus the noble conqueror

Did to the ladies, when they from him went:

But shortly for to tell is mine intent.

When that this worthy Duke, this Theseus,

Had Creon slain, and wonnen Thebés thus,

Still in the field he took all night his rest,

And did with all the country as him lest.315

To ransack in the tas316 of bodies dead,

Them for to strip of harness and of weed,317

The pillers318 did their business and cure,

After the battle and discomfiture.

And so befell, that in the tas they found,

Through girt with many a grievous bloody wound,

Two youngë knightës ligging by and by319

Both in one armës,320 wrought full richëly:

Of whichë two, Arcita hight that one,

And he that other hightë Palamon.

Not fully quick, nor fully dead they were,

But by their coat-armoúr, and by their gear,

The heralds knew them well in speciál,

As those that weren of the blood royál

Of Thebes, and of sistren two y-born.321

Out of the tas the pillers have them torn,

And have them carried soft unto the tent

Of Theseus, and he full soon them sent

To Athens, for to dwellen in prisón

Perpetually, he n’oldë no ranson.322

And when this worthy Duke had thus y-done,

He took his host, and home he rit anon

With laurel crowned as a conquerour;

And there he lived in joy and in honour

Term of his life;323 what needeth wordës mo’?

And in a tower, in anguish and in woe,

Dwellen this Palamon, and eke Arcite,

For evermore, there may no gold them quite.324

Thus passed year by year, and day by day,

Till it fell onës in a morn of May

That Emily, that fairer was to seen

Than is the lily upon his stalkë green,

And fresher than the May with flowers new

(For with the rosë colour strove her hue;

I n’ot325 which was the finer of them two),

Ere it was day, as she was wont to do,

She was arisen, and all ready dight,326

For May will have no sluggardy a-night;

The season pricketh every gentle heart,

And maketh him out of his sleep to start,

And saith, “Arise, and do thine óbservance.”

This maketh Emily have rémembrance

To do honoúr to May, and for to rise.

Y-clothed was she fresh for to devise;

Her yellow hair was braided in a tress,

Behind her back, a yardë long I guess.

And in the garden at the sun uprist327

She walketh up and down where as her list.

She gathereth flowers, party328 white and red,

To make a sotel329 garland for her head,

And as an angel heavenly she sung.

The greatë tower, that was so thick and strong,

Which of the castle was the chief dungeón330

(Where as these knightës weren in prisón,

Of which I toldë you, and tellë shall),

Was even joinant331 to the garden wall,

There as this Emily had her playing.

Bright was the sun, and clear that morrowning,

And Palamon, this woful prisoner,

As was his wont, by leave of his gaoler,

Was ris’n, and roamed in a chamber on high,

In which he all the noble city sigh,332

And eke the garden, full of branches green,

There as this fresh Emelia the sheen

Was in her walk, and roamed up and down.

This sorrowful prisoner, this Palamon

Went in his chamber roaming to and fro,

And to himself complaining of his woe:

That he was born, full oft he said, Alas!

And so befell, by áventure or cas,333

That through a window thick of many a bar

Of iron great, and square as any spar,

He cast his eyes upon Emelia,

And therewithal he blent334 and cried, Ah!

As though he stungen were unto the heart.

And with that cry Arcite anon up start,

And saidë, “Cousin mine, what aileth thee,

That art so pale and deadly for to see?

Why cried’st thou? who hath thee done offence?

For Goddë’s love, take all in patience

Our prison,335 for it may none other be.

Fortune hath giv’n us this adversity’.

Some wick’336 aspéct or dispositión

Of Saturn, by some constellatión,

Hath giv’n us this, although we had it sworn,

So stood the heaven when that we were born,

We must endure; this is the short and plain.”

This Palamon answér’d, and said again:

“Cousin, forsooth of this opinión

Thou hast a vain imaginatión.

This prison caused me not for to cry;

But I was hurt right now thorough mine eye

Into mine heart; that will my banë337 be.

The fairness of the lady that I see

Yond in the garden roaming to and fro,

Is cause of all my crying and my woe.

I n’ot whe’r338 she be woman or goddéss.

But Venus is it, soothly339 as I guess.”

And therewithal on knees adown he fill,

And saidë: “Venus, if it be your will

You in this garden thus to transfigúre,

Before me sorrowful wretched creatúre,

Out of this prison help that we may scape.

And if so be our destiny be shape

By etern word to dien in prisón,

Of our lineage have some compassión,

That is so low y-brought by tyranny.”

And with that word Arcita gan espy340

Where as this lady roamed to and fro.

And with that sight her beauty hurt him so,

That if that Palamon was wounded sore,

Arcite is hurt as much as he, or more.

And with a sigh he saidë piteously:

“The freshë beauty slay’th me suddenly

Of her that roameth yonder in the place.

And but341 I have her mercy and her grace,

That I may see her at the leastë way,

I am but dead; there is no more to say.”

This Palamon, when he these wordës heard,

Dispiteously342 he looked, and answér’d:

“Whether say’st thou this in earnest or in play?”

“Nay,” quoth Arcite, “in earnest, by my fay.343

God help me so, me lust full ill to play.”344

This Palamon gan knit his browës tway.

“It were,” quoth he, “to thee no great honoúr

For to be false, nor for to be traitoúr

To me, that am thy cousin and thy brother

Y-sworn full deep, and each of us to other,

That never for to dien in the pain,345

Till that the death departen shall us twain,

Neither of us in love to hinder other,

Nor in none other case, my levë346 brother;

But that thou shouldest truly farther me

In every case, as I should farther thee.

This was thine oath, and mine also certáin;

I wot it well, thou dar’st it not withsayn.347

Thus art thou of my counsel out of doubt.

And now thou wouldest falsely be about

To love my lady, whom I love and serve,

And ever shall, until mine heartë sterve.348

Now certes, false Arcite, thou shalt not so.

I lov’d her first, and toldë thee my woe

As to my counsel, and my brother sworn

To farther me, as I have told beforn.

For which thou art y-bounden as a knight

To helpë me, if it lie in thy might,

Or ellës art thou false, I dare well sayn,”

This Arcita full proudly spake again:

“Thou shalt,” quoth he, “be rather349 false than I,

And thou art false, I tell thee utterly;

For par amour I lov’d her first ere thou.

What wilt thou say? thou wist it not right now350

Whether she be a woman or goddéss.

Thine is affectión of holiness,

And mine is love, as to a creature:

For which I toldë thee mine áventure

As to my cousin, and my brother sworn.

I posë,351 that thou loved’st her beforn:

Wost352 thou not well the oldë clerkë’s saw,353

That who shall give a lover any law?

Love is a greater lawë, by my pan,354

Than may be giv’n to any earthly man:

Therefore positive law, and such decree,

Is broke alway for love in each degree

A man must needës love, maugré his head.355

He may not flee it, though he should be dead,

All be she356 maid, or widow, or else wife.

And eke it is not likely all thy life

To standen in her grace, no more than I:

For well thou wost thyselfë verily,

That thou and I be damned to prisón

Perpetual, us gaineth no ranson.

We strive, as did the houndës for the bone;

They fought all day, and yet their part was none.

There came a kite, while that they were so wroth,

And bare away the bone betwixt them both.

And therefore at the kingë’s court, my brother,

Each man for himselfë, there is no other.

Love if thee list; for I love and aye shall:

And soothly, levë brother, this is all.

Here in this prison musten we endure,

And each of us takë his áventúre.”