The Canterbury Tales · The Knight’s Tale 277 (2/8)

Great was the strife and long betwixt them tway,

If that I haddë leisure for to say;

But to the effect: it happen’d on a day

(To tell it you as shortly as I may),

A worthy duke that hight Perithous,

That fellow was to the Duke Theseus357

Since thilkë358 day that they were children lite,359

Was come to Athéns, his fellow to visite,

And for to play, as he was wont to do;

For in this world he loved no man so;

And he lov’d him as tenderly again.

So well they lov’d, as oldë bookës sayn,

That when that one was dead, soothly to tell,

His fellow went and sought him down in hell:

But of that story list me not to write.

Duke Perithous loved well Arcite,

And had him known at Thebes year by year:

And finally at réquest and prayére

Of Perithous, withoutë ransón

Duke Theseus him let out of prisón,

Freely to go, where him list over all,

In such a guise, as I you tellen shall

This was the forword,360 plainly to indite,

Betwixtë Theseus and him Arcite:

That if so were, that Arcite were y-found

Ever in his life, by day or night, one stound361

In any country of this Theseus,

And he were caught, it was accorded thus,

That with a sword he shouldë lose his head;

There was none other remedy nor rede.362

But took his leave, and homeward he him sped;

Let him beware, his neckë lieth to wed.363

How great a sorrow suff’reth now Arcite!

The death he feeleth through his heartë smite;

He weepeth, waileth, crieth piteously;

To slay himself he waiteth privily.

He said; “Alas the day that I was born!

Now is my prison worsë than beforn:

Now is me shape364 eternally to dwell

Not in purgatory, but right in hell.

Alas! that ever I knew Perithous.

For ellës had I dwelt with Theseus

Y-fettered in his prison evermo’.

Then had I been in bliss, and not in woe.

Only the sight of her, whom that I serve,

Though that I never may her grace deserve,

Would have sufficed right enough for me.

O dearë cousin Palamon,” quoth he,

“Thine is the vict’ry of this áventúre,

Full blissfully in prison to endure:

In prison? nay certes, in paradise.

Well hath fortúne y-turned thee the dice,

That hast the sight of her, and I th’ absénce.

For possible is, since thou hast her presénce,

And art a knight, a worthy and an able,

That by some cas,365 since fortune is changeáble,

Thou may’st to thy desire sometime attain.

But I that am exiled, and barrén

Of allë grace, and in so great despair,

That there n’is earthë, water, fire, nor air,

Nor creature, that of them maked is,

That may me helpë nor comfort in this,

Well ought I sterve in wanhope366 and distress.

Farewell my life, my lust,367 and my gladnéss.

Alas, why plainen men so in commúne

Of purveyance of God,368 or of Fortúne,

That giveth them full oft in many a guise

Well better than they can themselves devise?

Some man desireth for to have richess,

That cause is of his murder or great sickness.

And some man would out of his prison fain,

That in his house is of his meinie369 slain.

Infinite harmës be in this mattére.

We wot never what thing we pray for here.

We fare as he that drunk is as a mouse.

A drunken man wot well he hath an house,

But he wot not which is the right way thither,

And to a drunken man the way is slither.370

And certes in this world so farë we.

We seekë fast after felicity,

But we go wrong full often truëly.

Thus we may sayen all, and namely371 I,

That ween’d,372 and had a great opinión,

That if I might escapë from prisón

Then had I been in joy and perfect heal,

Where now I am exiled from my weal.

Since that I may not see you, Emily,

I am but dead; there is no remedy.”

Upon that other sidë, Palamon,

When that he wist Arcita was agone,

Much sorrow maketh, that the greatë tower

Resounded of his yelling and clamoúr.

The purë fetters373 on his shinnës great

Were of his bitter saltë tearës wet.

“Alas!” quoth he, “Arcita, cousin mine,

Of all our strife, God wot, the fruit is thine.

Thou walkest now in Thebes at thy large,

And of my woe thou givest little charge.374

Thou mayst, since thou hast wisdom and manhead,375

Assemble all the folk of our kindréd,

And make a war so sharp on this countrý,

That by some áventure, or some treatý,

Thou mayst have her to lady and to wife,

For whom that I must needës lose my life.

For as by way of possibility,

Since thou art at thy large, of prison free,

And art a lord, great is thine ávantage,

More than is mine, that sterve376 here in a cage.

For I must weep and wail, while that I live,

With all the woe that prison may me give,

And eke with pain that love me gives also,

That doubles all my torment and my woe.”

Therewith the fire of jealousy upstart

Within his breast, and hent him by the heart

So woodly,377 that he like was to behold

The box-tree, or the ashes dead and cold.

Then said; “O cruel goddess, that govérn

This world with binding of your word etern,378

And writen in the table of adamant

Your parlement379 and your eternal grant,

What is mankind more unto you y-hold380

Than is the sheep, that rouketh381 in the fold!

For slain is man, right as another beast,

And dwelleth eke in prison and arrest,

And hath sicknéss, and great adversity,

And oftentimës guiltëless, pardie.382

What governance is in your prescience,

That guiltëless tormenteth innocence?

And yet increaseth this all my penance,

That man is bounden to his observance

For Goddë’s sake to letten of his will,383

Whereas a beast may all his lust384 fulfil.

And when a beast is dead, he hath no pain;

But man after his death must weep and plain,

Though in this worldë he have care and woe:

Withoutë doubt it mayë standen so.

“The answer of this leave I to divinës,

But well I wot, that in this world great pine385 is:

Alas! I see a serpent or a thief

That many a truë man hath done mischief,

Go at his large, and where him list may turn.

But I must be in prison through Saturn,

And eke through Juno, jealous and eke wood,386

That hath well nigh destroyed all the blood

Of Thebes, with his wastë wallës wide.

And Venus slay’th me on that other side

For jealousy, and fear of him, Arcite.”

Now will I stent387 of Palamon a lite,388

And let him in his prison stillë dwell,

And of Arcita forth I will you tell.

The summer passeth, and the nightës long

Increasë double-wise the painës strong

Both of the lover and the prisonére.

I n’ot389 which hath the wofuller mistére.390

For, shortly for to say, this Palamon

Perpetually is damned to prisón,

In chainës and in fetters to be dead;

And Arcite is exiled on his head391

For evermore as out of that country,

Nor never more he shall his lady see.

You lovers ask I now this question,392

Who lieth the worse, Arcite or Palamon?

The one may see his lady day by day,

But in prison he dwellë must alway.

The other where him list may ride or go,

But see his lady shall he never mo’.

Now deem all as you listë, ye that can,

For I will tell you forth as I began.

When that Arcite to Thebes comen was,

Full oft a day he swelt,393 and said, “Alas!”

For see this lady he shall never mo’.

And shortly to concluden all his woe,

So much sorrow had never creatúre

That is or shall be while the world may dure.

His sleep, his meat, his drink is him byraft,394

That lean he wex,395 and dry as any shaft.396

His eyen hollow, grisly to behold,

His hue fallow,397 and pale as ashes cold,

And solitary he was, ever alone,

And wailing all the night, making his moan.

And if he heardë song or instrument,

Then would he weepen, he might not be stent.398

So feeble were his spirits, and so low,

And changed so, that no man couldë know

His speech, neither his voice, though men it heard.

And in his gear399 for all the world he far’d

Not only like the lovers’ malady

Of Eros, but rather y-like maníe,400

Engender’d of humoúrs meláncholic,

Before his head in his cell fántastic.401

And shortly turned was all upside down,

Both habit and eke dispositioún,

Of him, this woful lover Dan402 Arcite.

Why should I all day of his woe indite?

When he endured had a year or two

This cruel torment, and this pain and woe,

At Thebes, in his country, as I said,

Upon a night in sleep as he him laid,

Him thought how that the winged god Mercúry

Before him stood, and bade him to be merry.

His sleepy yard403 in hand he bare upright;

A hat he wore upon his hairës bright.

Arrayed was this god (as he took keep)404

As he was when that Argus405 took his sleep;

And said him thus: “To Athens shalt thou wend;406

There is thee shapen407 of thy woe an end.”

And with that word Arcite woke and start.

“Now truëly how sore that e’er me smart,”

Quoth he, “to Athens right now will I fare.

Nor for no dread of death shall I not spare

To see my lady that I love and serve;

In her presénce I reckë not to sterve.”408

And with that word he caught a great mirrór,

And saw that changed was all his colór,

And saw his visage all in other kind.

And right anon it ran him ill his mind,

That since his facë was so disfigúr’d

Of malady the which he had endúr’d,

He mightë well, if that he bare him low,409

Live in Athenës evermore unknow,

And see his lady well-nigh day by day.

And right anon he changed his array,

And clad him as a poorë labourer.

And all alone, save only a squiér,

That knew his privity410 and all his cas,411

Which was disguised poorly as he was,

To Athens is he gone the nextë412 way.

And to the court he went upon a day,

And at the gate he proffer’d his service,

To drudge and draw, what so men would devise.413

And, shortly of this matter for to sayn,

He fell in office with a chamberlain,

The which that dwelling was with Emily.

For he was wise, and couldë soon espy

Of every servant which that served her.

Well could he hewë wood, and water bear,

For he was young and mighty for the nones,414

And thereto he was strong and big of bones

To do that any wight can him devise.

A year or two he was in this servíce,

Page of the chamber of Emily the bright;

And Philostrate he saidë that he hight.

But half so well belov’d a man as he

Ne was there never in court of his degree.

He was so gentle of conditioún,

That throughout all the court was his renown.

They saidë that it were a charity

That Theseus would énhance his degree,415

And put him in some worshipful servíce,

There as he might his virtue exercise.

And thus within a while his namë sprung

Both of his deedës, and of his good tongue,

That Theseus hath taken him so near,

That of his chamber he hath made him squire,

And gave him gold to máintain his degree;

And eke men brought him out of his country

From year to year full privily his rent.

But honestly and slyly416 he it spent,

That no man wonder’d how that he it had.

And three year in this wise his life be lad,417

And bare him so in peace and eke in werre,418

There was no man that Theseus had so derre.419

And in this blissë leave I now Arcite,

And speak I will of Palamon a lite.420

In darkness horrible, and strong prisón,

This seven year hath sitten Palamon,

Forpined,421 what for love, and for distress.

Who feeleth double sorrow and heaviness

But Palamon? that love distraineth422 so,

That wood423 out of his wits he went for woe,

And eke thereto he is a prisonére

Perpetual, not only for a year.

Who couldë rhyme in English properly

His martyrdom? forsooth, it is not I;424

Therefore I pass as lightly as I may.

It fell that in the seventh year, in May

The thirdë night (as oldë bookës sayn,

That all this story tellen morë plain),

Were it by áventure or destiny

(As, when a thing is shapen425 it shall be),

That, soon after the midnight, Palamon

By helping of a friend brake his prisón,

And fled the city fast as he might go,

For he had given drink his gaoler so

Of a clary,426 made of a certain wine,

With narcotise and opie427 of Thebes fine,

That all the night, though that men would him shake,

The gaoler slept, he mightë not awake:

And thus he fled as fast as ever he may.

The night was short, and fastë by the day

That needës cast he must428 himself to hide.

And to a grovë fastë there beside

With dreadful foot then stalked Palamon.

For shortly this was his opinión,

That in the grove he would him hide all day,

And in the night then would he take his way

To Thebes-ward, his friendës for to pray

On Theseus to help him to warray.429

And shortly either he would lose his life,

Or winnen Emily unto his wife.

This is th’ effect, and his intention plain.