But at the last the statue of Venus shoke,
And made a signe, wherby that he toke,
That his praiere accepted was that day.
For though the signe shewed a delay,
Yet wist he wel that granted was his bone;
And with glad herte he went him home ful sone.
The thridde houre inequal that Palamon
Began to Venus temple for to gon,
Up rose the Sonne, and up rose Emelie,
And to the temple of Diane gan hie.

Hire maydens, that she thider with hire ladde,
Ful redily with hem the fire they hadde,
Th' encense, the clothes, and the remenant all
That to the sacrifice longen shall.
The hornes ful of mede, as was the gise,
Ther lakked nought to don hire sacrifise.
Smoking the temple, ful of clothes fayre,
This Emelie with herte debonaire
Hire body wesshe with water of a well.
But how she did hire rite I dare not tell;
But it be any thing in general;
And yet it were a game to heren all;
To him that meneth wel it n'ere no charge:
But it is good a man to ben at large.
Hire bright here kembed was, untressed all.
A coroune of a grene oke cerial

Upon hire hed was set ful fayre and mete.
Two fires on the auter gan she bete,
And did hire thinges, as men may behold
In Stace of Thebes, and these bokes old.
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 miu 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 helpe me, lady, sith ye may and can,
For tho three formes that thou hast in thee.
And Palamon, that hath swiche love to me,
And eke Arcite, that loveth me so sore,
This grace I praie thee withouten more;
As sende love and pees betwix hem two:
And fro me torne away hir hertes so,
That all hir hote love, and hir desire,
And all hir besy torment, and hir fire
Be queinte, or torned in another place.
And if so be thou wolt not do me grace,
Or if my destinee be shapen so,
That I shall nedes have on of hem two,
As sende me him that most desireth me.
"Behold, goddesse of clene chastite,
The bitter teres, that on my chekes fall.
Sin thou art mayde, and keper of us all,
My maydenhed thou kepe and wel conserve,
And while I live, a mayde I wol thee serve."
The fires brenne upon the auter clere,
While Emelie was thus in hire praiere:
But sodenly she saw a sighte queinte.
For right anon on of the fires queinte,

And quiked again, and after that anon
That other fire was queinte, and all agon:
And as it queinte, it made a whisteling,
As don these brondes wet in hir brenning.
And at the brondes ende outran anon
As it were blody dropes many on:
For which so sore agast was Emelie,
That she was wel neigh mad, and gan to crie,
For she ne wiste what it signified;
But only for the fere thus she cried,
And wept, that it was pittee for to here.
And therwithall Diane gan appere
With bowe in bond, right as an hunteresse,
And sayde; "Doughter, stint thin hevinesse.
Among the goddes highe it is affermed,
And by eterne word written and confermed,
Thou shalt be wedded unto on of tho,
That han for thee so mochel care and wo:
But unto which of hem I may not tell.
Farewel, for here I may no longer dwell.
The fires which that on min auter brenne,
Shal thee declaren er that thou go henne,
Thin aventure of love, as in this cas."

And with that word, the arwes in the cas
Of the goddesse clatteren fast and ring,
And forth she went, and made a vanishing,
For which this Emelie astonied was,
And sayde;
"What amounteth this, alas!

I putte me in thy protection,
Diane, and in thy disposition."

And home she goth anon the nexte way.
This is the effecte, ther n'is no more to say.

The nexte houre of Mars folwing this
Arcite unto the temple walked is
Of fierce Mars, to don his sacrifise
With all the rites of his payen wise.
With pitous herte and high devotion,
Right thus to Mars he sayde his or son.

"O stronge god, that in the regnes cold
Of Trace honoured art, and lord yhold,
And hast in every regne and every lond
Of armes all the bridel in thin hond,
And hem fortunest as thee list devise,
Accept of me my pitons sacrifise.

If so be that my youthe may deserve,
And that my might be worthy for to serve
Thy godhed, that I may ben on of thine,
Than praie I thee to rewe upon my pine,
For thilke peine, and thilke hote fire,
In which thou whilom brendest for desire
Whanne that thou usedest the beautee
Of fayre yonge Venus, freshe and free,
And haddest hire in armes at thy wille:
Although thee ones on a time misfille,
Whan Vulcanus had caught thee in his las,
And fond the ligging by his wif, alas!
For thilke sorwe that was tho in thin herte,
Have reuthe as wel upon my peines smerte.

"I am yonge and unkonning, as thou wost,
And, as I trow, with love offended most,
That ever was ony lives creature:
For she, that doth me all this wo endure,
Ne recceth never, whether I sinke or flete.
And wel I wot, or she me mercy hete,
I moste with strengthe win hire in the place:
And wel I wot, withouten helpe or grace
Of thee, ne may my strengthe not availle:
Than helpe me, lord, to-morwe in my bataille,
Fore thilke fire that whilom brenned thee,
As wel as that this fire now brenneth me;

And do, that I to-morwe may han victorie.
Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie.
Thy soveraine temple wol I most honouren
Of ony place, and alway most labouren
In thy plesance and in thy craftes strong.
And in thy temple I wol my baner hong,
And all the armes of my compagnie,
And evermore, until that day I die,
Eterne fire I wol beforne thee finde,
And eke to this avow I wol me binde.
My berd, my here that hangeth long adoun,
That never yet felt non offensioun
Of rasour ne of shere, I wol thee yeve,
And ben thy trewe servant while I live.
Now, lord, have reuthe upon my sorwes sore,
Yeve me the victorie, I axe thee no more."

The praier stint of Arcita the stronge,
The ringes on the temple dore that honge,
And eke the dores clattereden ful faste,
Of which Arcita somwhat him agaste.
The fires brent upon the auter bright,
That it gan all the temple for to light;
A sweete smell anon the ground up yaf,
And Arcita anon his hond up haf,
And more encense into the fire he cast,
With other rites mo, and at the last
The statue of Mars began his hauberke ring;
And with that soun he herd a murmuring
Ful low and dim, that sayde thus, "Victorie."
For which he yaf to Mars honour and glorie.
And thus with joye, and hope wel to fare,
Arcite anon unto his inne is fare,
As fayn as foul is of the brighte Sonne.

And right anon swiche strif ther is begonne For thilke granting, in the Heven above, Betwixen Venus the goddesse of love, And Mars the sterne god armipotent, That Jupiter was besy it to stent: Til that the pale Saturnus the colde, That knew so many of aventures olde, Food in his olde experience and art, That he ful sone hath plesed every part. As sooth is sayd, elde hath gret avantage, in elde is bothe wisdom and usage: Men may the old out-renne, but not out-rede. Saturne anon, to stenten strif and drede, Al be it that it is again his kind, Of all this strif he gan a remedy find. "My dere doughter Venus," quod Saturne, "My cours, that hath so wide for to turne, Hath more power than wot any man. Ma is the drenching in the see so wan, Ma is the prison in the derke cote,

Win is the strangel and hanging by the throte, The murmure, and the cherles rebelling, The groyning, and the prive empoysoning. !do vengeance and pleine correction, While I dwell in the signe of the Leon. Ma is the ruine of the highe halles, The falling of the toures and of the walles pon the minour, or the carpenter: New Sampson in shaking the piler. in ben also the maladies colde,

derke tresons, and the castes olde: Woking is the fader of pestilence.

repe no more, I shal do diligence, Me: Palamon, that is thin owen knight, inal have his lady, as thou hast him hight. Toch Mars shal help his knight yet natheles. seren you ther mot somtime be pees:

And be ye not of o complexion,
That causeth all day swiche division.
I am thin ayel, redy at thy will;
Wepe now no more, I shal thy lust fulfill."
Now wol I stenten of the goddes above,
Of Mars, and of Venus goddesse of love,
And tellen you as plainly as I can
The gret effect, for which that I began.

Gret was the feste in Athenes thilke day,
And eke the lusty seson of that May
Made every wight to ben in swiche plesance,
That all that Monday justen they and dance,
And spenden it, in Venus highe servise.
But by the cause that they shulden rise
Erly a-morwe for to seen the fight,
Unto hir reste wenten they at night.
And on the morwe whan the day gan spring,
Of hors and harneis noise and clattering
Ther was in the hostelries all aboute:
And to the paleis rode ther many a route
Of lordes, upon stedes and palfreis.

Ther mayst thou see devising of harneis So uncouth and so riche, and wrought so wele Of goldsmithry, of brouding, and of stele; 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; Pipes, trompes, nakeres, and clariounes, That in the bataille blowen blody sounes; The paleis ful of peple up and doun, Here three, ther ten, holding hir questioun, Devining of these Theban knightes two. 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: He hath a sparth of twenty pound of wighte. 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:
And whan he saw the peple of noise al still,
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
Of mortal bataille now in this emprise:
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 ride
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."

The vois of the peple touched to the Heven,
So loude crieden they with mery steven:
"God save swiche a lord that is so good,
He wilneth no destruction of blood."

Up gon the trompes and the melodie,
And to the listes rit the compagnie
By ordinance, thurghout the cite large,
Hanged with cloth of gold, and not with sarge.
Ful like a lord this noble duk gan ride,
And these two Thebans upon eyther side:
And after rode the quene and Emelie,
And after that another compagnie
Of on and other, after hir degree.
And thus they passen thurghout the citee,
And to the listes comen they be time:
It n'as not of the day yet fully prime.
Whan set was Theseus ful rich and hie,
Ipolita the quene, and Emelie,
And other ladies in degrees aboute,
Unto the setes preseth all the route.
And westward, thurgh the gates under Mart,
Arcite, and eke the hundred of his part,
With baner red, is entred right anon;
And in the selve moment Palamon
Is, under Venus, estward in the place,
With baner white, and hardy chere and face.
In all the world, to seken up and doun,
So even without variatioun

Ther n'ere swiche compagnies never twey.
For ther was non so wise that coude sey,
That any hadde of other avantage
Of worthinesse, ne of estat, ne age,
So even were they chosen for to gesse.
And in two renges fayre they hem dresse.
Whan that hir names red were everich on,
That in hir nombre gile were ther non,
Tho were the gates shette, and cried was loude;
"Do now your devoir, yonge knightes proude.'

The heraudes left hir priking up and doun.
Now ringen trompes loud and clarioun.
Ther is no more to say, but est and west
In gon the speres sadly in the rest;
In goth the sharpe spore into the side.
Ther see men who can juste, and who can ride.
Ther shiveren shaftes upon sheldes thicke;
He feleth thurgh the herte-spone the pricke.
Up springen speres twenty foot on highte;
Out gon the swerdes as the silver brighte.
The helmes they to-hewen, and to-shrede;
Out brest the blod, with sterne stremes rede.
With mighty maces the bones they to-breste.
He thurgh the thickest of the throng gan threste.
Ther stomblen stedes strong, and doun goth all.
He rolleth under foot as doth a ball.

He foineth on his foo with a tronchoun,
And he him hurtleth with his bors adoun.
He thurgh the body is hurt, and sith ytake
Maugre his hed, and brought unto the stake,
As forword was, right ther he must abide.
Another lad is on that other side.
And somtime doth hem Theseus to rest,
Hem to refresh, and drinken if hem lest.

Ful oft a day han thilke Thebanes two
Togeder met, and wrought eche other wo:
Unhorsed bath eche other of hem twey.
Ther n'as no tigre in the vale of Galaphey,
Whan that hire whelpe is stole, whan it is lite,
So cruel on the hunt, as is Arcite
For jalous herte upon this Palamon:
Ne in Belmarie ther n'is so fell leon,
That hunted is, or for his hunger wood,
Ne of his prey desireth so the blood,
As Palamon to sleen his foo Arcite.
The jalous strokes on hir helmes bite;
Out renneth blood on both hir sides rede.

Somtime an ende ther is of every dede.
For er the Sonne unto the reste went,
The stronge king Emetrius gan hent
This Palamon, as he fought with Arcite,
And made his swerd depe in his flesh to bite.
And by the force of twenty is he take
Unyolden, and ydrawen to the stake.
And in the rescous of this Palamon
The stronge king Licurge is borne adoun:
And king Emetrius for all his strengthe
Is borne out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe,
So hitte him Palamon or he were take:
But all for nought, he was brought to the stake:
His hardy herte might him helpen naught,
He mosté abiden, whan that he was caught,
By force, and eke by composition.

Who sorweth now but woful Palamon? That moste no more gon again to fight. And whau that Theseus had seen that sight, Unto the folk that foughten thus eche ou, He cried, "Ho! no more, for it is don. I wol be trewe juge, and not partie. Arcite of 'hebes shal have Emelie, That by his fortune hath hire fayre ywonne." Anon ther is a noise of peple begonne For joye of this, so loud and high withall, It semed that the listes shulden fall.

What can now fayre Venus don above? What saith she now? what doth this quene of lo But wepeth so, for wanting of hire will, Til that hire teres in the listes fill: She sayde: "I am ashamed douteless."

Saturnus sayde: "Danghter, hold thy pecs Mars hath his will, his knight hath all his bone And by min hed thou shalt ben esed sone.

The trompoures with the loude minstralcie, The heraudes, that so loude yell and crie, Ben in hir joye for wele of Dan Arcite. But herkeneth me, and stenteth noise a lite, Whiche a miracle ther befell anon.

This fierce Arcite hath of his helme ydon, And on a courser for to shew his face He priketh endelong the large place, Loking upward upon this Emelie; And she again him cast a friendlich eye, (For women, as to speken in commune, They folwen all the favour of fortune) And was all his in chere, as his in herte. Out of the ground a fury infernal sterte,

From Pluto sent, at requeste of Saturne,
For which his hors for fere gan to turne,
And lepte aside, and foundred as he lepe:
And er that Arcite may take any kepe,
He pight him on the pome! of his hed,
That in the place he lay as he were ded,
His brest to-brosten with his sadel bow.
As blake he lay as any cole or crow,
So was the blood yronnen in his face.

Anon he was yborne out of the place
With herte sore, to Theseus paleis.
Tho was he corven out of his harneis,
And in a bed ybrought ful fayre and blive,
For he was yet in memorie, and live,
And alway crying after Emelie.

Duk Theseus, with all his compagnie, Is comen home to Athenes his citee, With alle blisse and gret solempnite. Al be it that this aventure was falle, ile n'olde not discomforten hem alle. Men sayden eke, that Arcite shal not die, The shal ben heled of his maladie. And of another thing they were as fayn, That of hem alle was ther non yslain, Al were they sore yhurt, and namely on, That with a spere was thirled his brest bone. To other woundes, and to broken armes, Som hadden salves, and som hadden charmes : And fermacies of herbes, and eke save They dronken, for they wold hir lives have. For which this noble duk, as he wel can, Comforteth and honoureth every man, And made revel all the longe night, Into the strange lordes, as was right. Ne ther n'as holden no discomforting, But as at justes or a tourneying; For sothly ther n'as no discomfiture, For falling n'is not but an aventure. Ne to be lad by force unto a stake Fayolden, and with twenty knightes take, O person all alone, withouten mo, And baried forth by armes, foot, and too, And eke his stede driven forth with staves, With footmen, bothe yemen and eke knaves, It was aretted him no vilanie: Ther may no man clepen it cowardie. For which anon duk Theseus let crie, To steaten alle rancour and envie, The gree as wel of o side as of other, And eyther side ylike, as others brother: And yave hem giftes after hir degree, And helde a feste fully dayes three: And conveyed the kinges worthily Out of his toun a journee largely.

And home went every man the righte way,

Ther n'as no more, but farewel, have good day.
Of this battaille I wol no more endite,
Bat speke of Palamon and of Arcite.

Swelleth the brest of Arcite, and the sore
Facreseth at his herte more and more.
The clotered blood, for any leche-craft,
Corrampeth, and is in his bouke ylaft,
That neyther veine-blood, ne ventousing,
Se drinke of herbes may ben his helping.
The vertue expulsif, or animal,
Frothilke vertue cleped natural,
Ne may the venime voiden, ne expell.
The pipes of his longes gan to swell,
And every lacerte in his brest adoun
shent with venime and corruptioun.

Him gaineth neyther, for to get his lif,
Vomit upward, ne dounward laxatif;
All is to-brosten thilke region;
Nature hath now no domination

And certainly ther nature wol not werche,
farewel physike: go bere the man to cherche,
This is all and som, that Arcite moste die.
For which he sendeth after Emelie,
And Palamon, that was his cosin dere.
Than sayd he thus, as ye shuln after here.
"Nought may the woful spirit in myn herte
Declare o point of all my sorwes smerte
To you, my lady, that I love most;
But I bequethe the service of my gost
To you aboven every creature,

Sin that my lif ne may no lenger dure.
"Alas the wo! alas the peines stronge,
That I for you have suffered, and so longe!
Alas the deth! alas min Emelie !
Alas departing of our compagnie !
Alas min hertes quene! alas my wif!
Min hertes ladie, ender of my lif!

What is this world? what axen men to have?
Now with his love, now in his colde grave
Alone withouten any compagnie.
Farewel my swete, farewel min Emelie,
And softe take me in your armes twey,
For love of God, and herkeneth what I sey.
"I have here with my cosin Palamon
Had strif and rancour many a day agon
For love of you, and for my jalousie.
And Jupiter so wis my soule gie,
To speken of a servant proprely,

With alle circumstances trewely,

That is to sayn, trouth, honour, and knightliede,
Wisdom, humblesse, estat, and high kinrede,
Fredom, and all that longeth to that art,
So Jupiter have of my soule part,

As in this world right now ne know I non,
So worthy to be loved as Palamon,
That serveth you, and wol don all his lif.
And if that ever ye shal ben a wif,
Foryete not Palamon, the gentil man."

And with that word his speche faille began.
For from his feet up to his brest was come
The cold of deth, that had him overnome,
And yet moreover in his armes two
The vital strength is lost, and all ago.
Only the intellect, withouten more,
That dwelled in his herte sike and sore,
Gau feillen, whan the herte felte deth;
Dusked his eyen two, and failled his breth.
But on his ladie yet cast he his eye;
His laste word was; "Mercy, Emelie!”
His spirit changed hous, and wente ther,
As I came never I cannot tellen wher,
Therfore I stent, I am no divinistre;
Of soules find I not in this registre.
Ne me lust not th' opinions to telle

Of hem, though that they writen wher they dwelle.
Arcite is cold, ther Mars his soule gie.
Now wol I speken forth of Emelie.

Shright Emelie, and houleth Palamon,
And Theseus his sister toke anon
Swooning, and bare hire from the corps away.
What helpeth it to tarien forth the day,

To tellen how she wep both even and morwe ?
For in swiche cas wimmen have swiche sorwe,
Whan that hir housbonds ben fro hem ago,
That for the more part they sorwen so,

Or elles fallen in swiche maladie, That atte laste certainly they die.

Infinite ben the sorwes and the teres
Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeres,
In all the toun for deth of this Theban:
For him ther wepeth both childe and man.
So gret a weping was ther non certain,
Whan Hector was ybrought, all fresh yslain
To Troy, alas! the pitee that was there,
Cratching of chekes, rending eke of here.

Why woldest thou be ded?" thise women crie, "And haddest gold ynough, and Emelie."

No man might gladen this duk Theseus,
Saving his olde fader Egeus,
That knew this worldes transmutatioun,
As he had seen it chaungen up and doun,
Joye after wo, and wo after gladnesse;
And shewed him ensample and likenesse.

"Right as ther died never man" (quod he)
"That he ne lived in erthe in som degree,
Right so ther lived never man" (he seyd)
"In all this world, that somtime he ne deyd.
This world n'is but a thurghfare ful of wo,
And we ben pilgrimes, passing to and fro:
Deth is an end of every worldes sore."

And over all this yet said he mochel more
To this effect, ful wisely to enhort
The peple, that they shuld hem recomfort.

Duk Theseus with all his besy cure
He casteth now, wher that the sepulture
Of good Arcite may best ymaked be,
And eke most honourable in his degree.
And at the last he toke conclusion,
That ther as first Arcite and Palamon
Hadden for love the bataille hem betwene,
That in that selve grove, sote and grene,
Ther as he hadde his amorous desires,
His complaint, and for love his hote fires,
He wolde make a fire, in which the office
Of funeral he might all accomplise;

And lete anon commande to hack and hewe
The okes old, and lay hem on a rew
In culpons, wel araied for to brenne.
His officers with swifte feet they renne
And ride anon at his commandement.
And after this, this Theseus hath sent
After a bere, and it all overspradde
With cloth of gold, the richest that he hadde;
And of the same suit he cladde Arcite.
Upon his hondes were his gloves white,
Eke on his hed a croune of laurer greue,
And in his hond a swerd ful bright and kene.
He laid him bare the visage on the bere,
Therwith he wept that pitee was to here.
And for the peple shulde seen him alle,
Whan it was day he brought him to the halle,
That roreth of the crying and the soun.

Tho came this woful Theban Palamon
With flotery berd, and ruggy asshy heres,
In clothes blake, ydropped all with teres,
And (passing over of weping Emelie)
The reufullest of all the compagnie.

And in as much as the service shuld be
The more noble and riche in his degree,
Duk Theseus let forth three stedes bring,
That trapped were in stele all glittering,
And covered with the armes of Dan Arcite.
And eke upon these stedes gret and white
Ther saten folk, of which on bare his sheld,
Another his spere up in his hondes held;

The thridde bare with him his bow Turkeis,
Of brent gold was the cas and the haruies:
And riden forth a pas with sorweful chere
Toward the grove, as ye shul after here.

The noblest of the Grekes that ther were
Upon bir shuldres carrieden the bere,
With slacke pas, and eyen red and wete,
Thurghout the citee, by the maister strete,
That sprad was all with black, and wonder hie
Right of the same is all the strete ywrie,
Upon the right hand went olde Egeus,
And on that other side duk Theseus,
With vessels in hir hond of gold ful fine,
All ful of hony, milk, and blood, and wine;
Eke Palamon, with ful gret compagnie :
And after that came woful Emelie,
With fire in hond, as was that time the gise,
To don the office of funeral service.

High labour, and ful gret apparailling
Was at the service of that fire making,
That with his grene top the Heven raught,
And twenty fadom of brede the armes straught:
This is to sain, the boughes were so brode.
Of stre first ther was laied many a lode.

But how the fire was maked up on highte,
And eke the names how the trees highte,
As oke, fir, birch, aspe, alder, holm, poplere,
Wilow, elm, plane, ash, box, chestein, lind, laurere
Maple, thorn, beche, hasel, ew, whipultre,
How they were feld, shall not be told for me;
Ne how the goddes runnen up and doun
Disherited of her habitatioun,

In which they woneden in rest and pees,
Nimphes, Faunes, and Amadriades;
Ne how the bestes, and the briddes alle
Fledden for fere, whan the wood gan falle;
Ne how the ground agast was of the light,
That was not wont to see the Sonne bright;
Ne how the fire was couched first with stre,
And than with drie stickes cloven a-thre,
And than with grene wood and spicerie,
And than with cloth of gold and with perrie,
And gerlonds hanging with ful many a flour,
The mirre, th' encense also with swete odour;
Ne how Arcita lay among all this,
Ne what richesse about his body is;
Ne how that Emelie, as was the gise,
Put in the fire of funeral service;

Ne how she swounded when she made the fire,
Ne what she spake, ne what was hir desire;
Ne what jewelles men in the fire caste,
Whan that the fire was gret and brente faste;
Ne how som cast hir sheld, and som hir spere,
And of hir vestimentes, which they were,
And cuppes full of wine, and milk, and blood,
Into the fire, that brent as it were wood;
Ne how the Grekes with a huge route
Three times riden all the fire aboute
Upon the left hond, with a loud shouting,
And thries with hir speres clatering;
And thries how the ladies gan to crie;
Ne how that led was homeward Emelie;
Ne how Arcite is brent to ashen cold;
Ne how the liche-wake was yhold
All thilke night, ne how the Grekes play.
The wake-plaies ne kepe I not to say:
Who wrestled best naked, with oile enoint,
Ne who that bare him best in no disjoint.
I woll not tellen eke how they all gon
Home til Athenes whan the play is don;