Canterbury Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by Geoffrey Chaucer

  And be your true servant while I live.

  Now lord, have pity upon my sorrows sore:

  Give me the victory, I ask no more.”

  The prayer being ended of Arcita the strong,

  The rings on the temple door that hung,

  And also the doors, clattered full fast,

  Of which Arcita somewhat took fright.

  The fires burned up on the altar bright,

  That it began all the temple to light;

  And sweet smell the ground anon gave up,

  And Arcita anon his hand up lifted,

  And more incense into the fire he cast,

  With other rites more; and at last

  The statue of Mars began his coat of mail to ring.

  And with that sound he heard a murmuring

  Full low and dim, that said thus, “Victory,”

  For which he gave to Mars honor and glory.

  And thus with joy and hope to fare well,

  Arcita anon into his dwelling is gone,

  As glad as is a bird of the bright sun.

  And right anon such strife there is begun,

  For that granting, in the heaven above,

  Between Venus, the goddess of love,

  And Mars, the stern god strong in arms,

  That Jupiter was bisy it to stente;

  Til that the pale Saturnus the colde,

  That knew so manye of aventures olde,

  Fond in his olde experience an art,

  That he ful sone hath plesed every part.

  As sooth is sayd, elde hath greet avantage

  In elde is bothe wisdom and usage;

  Men may the olde at-renne, and noght at-rede.

  Saturne anon, to stinten stryf and drede,

  Al be it that it is agayn his kynde,

  Of al this stryf he gan remedie fynde.

  “My dere doghter Venus,” quod Saturne,

  “My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne,

  Hath more power than wot any man.

  Myn is the drenching in the see so wan;

  Myn is the prison in the derke cote;

  Myn is the strangling and hanging by the throte;

  The murmure, and the cherles rebelling,

  The groyning, and the pryvee empoysoning:

  I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun

  Whyl I dwelle in the signe of the Leoun.

  Myn is the ruine of the hye halles,

  The falling of the toures and of the walles

  Up-on the mynour or the carpenter.

  I slow Sampsoun in shaking the piler;

  And myne be the maladyes colde,

  The derke tresons, and the castes olde;

  My loking is the fader of pestilence.

  Now weep namore, I shal doon diligence

  That Palamon, that is thyn owne knight,

  Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight.

  Though Mars shal helpe his knight, yet nathelees

  Bitwixe yow ther moot be some tyme pees,

  Al be ye noght of o complexioun,

  That causeth al day swich divisioun.

  I am thin ayel, redy at thy wille

  Weep thou namore, I wol thy lust fulfille.”

  Now wol I stinten of the goddes above,

  Of Mars, and of Venus, goddesse of love.

  That Jupiter was busy to stop it;

  Till pale Saturn, baleful and cold,24

  Who knew of so many adventures old,

  Found in his old experience an art

  That he full soon had pleased every side.

  As truth is said, old age has great advantage,

  In age is both wisdom and experience;

  Men may the old outrun yet not outwit them.

  Saturn anon, to stop strife and dread,

  Albeit that it was against his nature,

  Of all this strife he began a remedy to find.

  “My dear daughter Venus,” said Saturn,

  “My orbit, that has a circuit so wide to turn,

  Has more power than knows any man.

  Mine is the drowning in the sea so pale;

  Mine is the prison in the dark hut;

  Mine is the strangling and hanging by the throat;

  The murmur and the peasants rebelling,

  The grumbling and secret poisoning.

  I do vengeance and full punishment

  While I dwell in the sign of the lion.

  Mine is the ruin of the high halls,

  The falling of the towers and the walls

  Upon the miner or the carpenter.

  I slew Sampson, shaking the pillar;

  And mine be the maladies cold,

  The dark treasons, and the castles old;

  My aspect is the father of pestilence.

  Now weep no more, I shall do diligence

  That Palamon, who is your own knight,

  Shall have his lady, as you him promised.

  Though Mars shall help his knight, yet nevertheless

  Between you there must be at some time peace,

  Albeit you are not of the same temperament,

  That causes all day such division.

  I am your grandfather, ready at your will;

  Weep now no more, I will your desire fulfill.”

  Now will I stop telling of the gods above,

  Of Mars and Venus, goddess of love,

  And telle yow, as pleynly as I can,

  The grete effect, for which that I bigan.

  Part Four

  Greet was the feste in Athenes that day,

  And eek the lusty seson of that May

  Made every wight to been in swich plesaunce,

  That al that Monday justen they and daunce,

  And spenden it in Venus heigh servyse.

  But by the cause that they sholde ryse

  Erly, for to seen the grete fight,

  Unto hir reste wente they at night.

  And on the morwe, whan that day gan springe,

  Of hors and harneys, noyse and clateringe

  Ther was in hostelryes al aboute;

  And to the paleys rood ther many a route

  Of lordes, up-on stedes and palfreys.

  Ther maystow seen devysing of herneys

  So uncouth and so riche, and wroght so weel

  Of goldsmithrie, of browding, and of steel;

  The sheeldes brighte, testers, and trappures;

  Gold-hewen helmes, hauberks, cote-armures;

  Lordes in paraments on hir courseres,

  Knights of retenue, and eek squyeres

  Nailinge the speres, and helmes bokelinge,

  Gigginge of sheeldes, with layneres lacinge;

  Ther as need is, they weren no-thing ydel;

  The fomy stedes on the golden brydel

  Gnawinge, and faste the armurers also

  With fyle and hamer prikinge to and fro;

  Yemen on fote, and communes many oon

  With shorte staves, thikke as they may goon;

  Pypes, trompes, nakers, clariounes,

  That in the bataille blowen blody sounes;

  The paleys ful of peples up and doun,

  Heer three, ther ten, holding hir questioun,

  Divyninge of thise Theban knightes two.

  Somme seyden thus, somme seyde it shal be so;

  Somme helden with him with the blake berd,

  And tell you as plainly as I can

  The great outcome for which that I began.

  Part Four

  Great was the festival in Athens that day,

  And also the lusty season of May

  Made every person want to be in such pleasure,

  That all that Monday jousted they and danced,

  And spent it in Venus’ high service.

  But because they should rise

  Early, for to see the great fight,

  Unto their rest went they at night.

  And on the morrow, when day began to spring,

  Of horse and armor noise and clattering

&nb
sp; There was in hostelries all about;

  And to the palace rode there many a company

  Of lords upon chargers and palfreys.

  There may you have seen fitting of armor

  So unusual and so rich, and wrought so well

  Of goldsmithery, of embroidery, and of steel;

  The shields bright, headpieces and trapping;

  Gold-hued helmets, coats of mail, coats of arms;

  Lords in stately robes on their chargers,

  Knights in service, and also squires

  Nailing points to the spear shafts, and helmets buckling;

  Strapping of shields with leather thongs lacing—

  Wherever needed, they were in no way idle;

  The foamy steeds on the golden bridle

  Gnawing, and fast the armorers also

  With file and hammer riding to and fro;

  Yeomen on foot and commoners many a one

  With short staves, in close formation;

  Pipes, trumpets, kettledrums, clarions

  That in battle blow bloody sounds;

  The palace full of people up and down,

  Here three, there ten, holding their question,

  Guessing about these Theban knights two.

  Some said thus, some said it shall be so;

  Some sided with him with the black beard,

  Somme with the balled, somme with the thikke-herd;

  Somme sayde, he loked grim and he wolde fighte;

  He hath a sparth of twenty pound of wighte.

  Thus was the halle ful of divyninge,

  Longe after that the sonne gan to springe.

  The grete Theseus, that of his sleep awaked

  With minstralcye and noyse that was maked,

  Held yet the chambre of his paleys riche,

  Til that the Thebane knightes, bothe y-liche

  Honoured, were into the paleys fet.

  Duk Theseus was at a window set,

  Arrayed right as he were a god in trone.

  The peple preesseth thider-ward ful sone

  Him for to seen, and doon heigh reverence,

  And eek to herkne his hest and his sentence.

  An heraud on a scaffold made an ho,

  Til al the noyse of peple was y-do;

  And whan he saugh the peple of noyse al stille,

  Tho showed he the mighty dukes wille.

  “The lord hath of his heigh discrecioun

  Considered, that it were destruccioun

  To gentil blood, to fighten in the gyse

  Of mortal bataille now in this empryse;

  Wherfore, to shapen that they shul not dye,

  He wol his firste purpos modifye.

  No man therfor, up peyne of los of lyf,

  No maner shot, ne pollax, ne short knyf

  Into the listes sende, or thider bringe;

  Ne short swerd for to stoke, with poynt bytinge,

  No man ne drawe, ne bere it by his syde.

  Ne no man shal un-to his felawe ryde

  But o cours, with a sharp y-grounde spere;

  Foyne, if him list, on fote, him-self to were.

  And he that is at meschief, shal be take,

  And noght slayn, but be broght un-to the stake

  That shal ben ordeyned on either syde;

  But thider he shal by force, and ther abyde.

  And if so falle, the chieftayn be take

  On either syde, or elles slee his make,

  Some with the bald, some with the thickhaired;

  Some said that one looked grim, and he would fight—

  ”He has a battle-axe of twenty pounds weight.”

  Thus was the hall full of speculation,

  Long after the sun began to spring.

  The great Theseus, who from his sleep awakened

  With minstrelsy and noise that was made,

  Held yet the chamber of his palace rich,

  Till the Theban knights, both equally

  Honored, were into the palace summoned.

  Duke Theseus was sitting at a window

  Looking as if he were a god enthroned.

  The people pressed forward full soon

  Him to see, and do high reverence,

  And also to hear his command and his decision.

  A herald on a scaffold made a “Tadum!”

  Till all the noise of the people was done;

  And when he saw the people’s noise all still,

  Thus showed he the mighty duke’s will:

  “The lord hath of his high acumen

  Considered that it were destruction

  To gentle blood to fight in the manner

  Of mortal battle in this enterprise.

  Wherefore, to ensure that they do not die,

  He will his first purpose modify.

  No man therefore, upon pain of loss of life,

  Any manner of projectile, nor short knife

  Onto the battleground shall send, or there bring;

  Nor short sword, for to stab with point biting,

  Nor may any man draw it or bear it by his side.

  No man shall against his opponent ride

  But one charge with a sharp ground spear;

  He may parry, if he wishes, on foot, himself to defend.

  And he who is in trouble shall be captured,

  And not slain, but be brought unto the stake

  That shall be set up on either side;

  There brought by force, and there abide.

  And if it so happens the chieftain be taken

  On either side, or slain the other chieftain,

  No lenger shal the turneyinge laste.

  God spede yow; goth forth, and ley on faste.

  With long swerd and with maces fight your fille.

  Goth now your wey; this is the lordes wille.”

  The voys of peple touchede the hevene,

  So loude cryden they with mery stevene:

  “God save swich a lord, that is so good,

  He wilneth no destruccioun of blood!”

  Up goon the trompes and the melodye.

  And to the listes rit the companye

  By ordinaunce, thurgh-out the citee large,

  Hanged with cloth of gold, and nat with sarge.

  Ful lyk a lord this noble duk gan ryde,

  Thise two Thebanes up-on either syde;

  And after rood the quene, and Emelye,

  And after that another companye

  Of oon and other, after hir degree.

  And thus they passen thurgh-out the citee,

  And to the listes come they by tyme.

  It nas not of the day yet fully pryme,

  Whan set was Theseus ful riche and hye,

  Ipolita the quene and Emelye,

  And other ladies in degrees aboute.

  Un-to the seetes preesseth al the route.

  And west-ward, thurgh the gates under Marte,

  Arcite and eek the hundred of his parte,

  With baner reed is entred right anon;

  And in that selve moment Palamon

  Is under Venus, est-ward in the place,

  With baner whyt, and hardy chere and face.

  In al the world, to seken up and doun,

  So even with-outen variacioun,

  Ther nere swiche companyes tweye.

  For ther nas noon so wys that coude seye,

  That any hadde of other avauntage

  Of worthinesse, ne of estaat, ne age,

  So even were they chosen, for to gesse.

  And in two renges faire they hem dresse.

  Whan that hir names rad were everichoon,

  No longer shall the tourney last.

  God speed you! Go forth, and lay on fast.

  With long sword and mace fight your fill.

  Go now your way—this is the lord’s will.”

  The voice of people touched the heaven,

  So loud cried they with merry voice:

  “God save such a lord, who is so good,

  He desires no destruc
tion of blood!”

  Up went the trumpets and the melody,

  And to the arena rode the company,

  In order, throughout the city large,

  Hung with cloth of gold and not with serge.

  Full like a lord this noble duke began to ride,

  These two Thebans on either side;

  And after rode the queen and Emily,

  And after that another company

  Of one and other, according to their rank.

  And thus they passed throughout the city,

  And to the arena come they promptly.

  It was not of the day fully prime25

  When sat this Theseus full rich and high,

  Hyppolyta the queen and Emily,

  And other ladies in tiers about.

  Unto the seats pressed all the crowd.

  And westward, through the gates under Mars,

  Arcita, and the hundred of his side,

  With banner red is entered right anon;

  And in that same moment Palamon

  Is under Venus, eastward in the place,

  With banner white, and bold countenance and face.

  In all the world, to seek up and down,

  Matched so equally,

  There never were such companies two.

  For there was none so wise who could say

  That either had of the other advantage

  In worthiness, nor of estate nor age,

  So even were they chosen, for to guess.

  And in two rows fair they place themselves.

  Then every one of their names was read,

  That in hir nombre gyle were ther noon,

  Tho were the gates shet, and cryed was loude:

  “Do now your devoir, yonge knightes proude!”

  The heraudes lefte hir priking up and doun;

  Now ringen trompes loude and clarioun;

  Ther is namore to seyn, but west and est

  In goon the speres ful sadly in arest;

  In goth the sharpe spore in-to the syde.

  Ther seen men who can juste, and who can ryde;

  Ther shiveren shaftes up-on sheeldes thikke;

  He feleth thurgh the herte-spoon the prikke.

  Up springen speres twenty foot on highte;

  Out goon the swerdes as the silver brighte.

  The helmes they to-hewen and to-shrede;

  Out brest the blood, with sterne stremes rede.

  With mighty maces the bones they to-breste.

  He thurgh the thikkeste of the throng gan threste.

  Ther stomblen stedes stronge, and doun goth al.

  He rolleth under foot as dooth a bal.

  He foyneth on his feet with his tronchoun,

  And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun.

  He thurgh the body is hurt, and sithen y-take,

  Maugree his heed, and broght un-to the stake,

  As forward was, right ther he moste abyde;

  Another lad is on that other syde.