Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  Anon there is a noise of people gone,

  For joy of this, so loud and high withal,

  It seemed that the listes shoulde fall.

  What can now faire Venus do above?

  What saith she now? what doth this queen of love?

  But weepeth so, for wanting of her will,

  Till that her teares in the listes fill1 1fall

  She said: “I am ashamed doubteless.”

  Saturnus saide: “Daughter, hold thy peace.

  Mars hath his will, his knight hath all his boon,

  And by mine head thou shalt be eased soon.”

  The trumpeters with the loud minstrelsy,

  The heralds, that full loude yell and cry,

  Be in their joy for weal of Dan1 Arcite. 1Lord

  But hearken me, and stinte noise a lite,

  What a miracle there befell anon

  This fierce Arcite hath off his helm y-done,

  And on a courser for to shew his face

  He 1pricketh endelong1 the large place, 1rides from end to end1

  Looking upward upon this Emily;

  And she again him cast a friendly eye

  (For women, as to speaken 1in commune1, 1generally1

  They follow all the favour of fortune),

  And was all his in cheer1, as his in heart. 1countenance

  Out of the ground a fire infernal start,

  From Pluto sent, at request of Saturn

  For which his horse for fear began to turn,

  And leap aside, and founder1 as he leap 1stumble

  And ere that Arcite may take any keep1, 1care

  He pight1 him on the pummel2 of his head. 1pitched 2top

  That in the place he lay as he were dead.

  His breast to-bursten with his saddle-bow.

  As black he lay as any coal or crow,

  So was the blood y-run into his face.

  Anon he was y-borne out of the place

  With hearte sore, to Theseus’ palace.

  Then was he carven1 out of his harness. 1cut

  And in a bed y-brought full fair and blive1 1quickly

  For he was yet in mem’ry and alive,

  And always crying after Emily.

  Duke Theseus, with all his company,

  Is come home to Athens his city,

  With alle bliss and great solemnity.

  Albeit that this aventure was fall1, 1befallen

  He woulde not discomforte1 them all 1discourage

  Then said eke, that Arcite should not die,

  He should be healed of his malady.

  And of another thing they were as fain1. 1glad

  That of them alle was there no one slain,

  All1 were they sorely hurt, and namely2 one, 1although 2especially

  That with a spear was thirled1 his breast-bone. 1pierced

  To other woundes, and to broken arms,

  Some hadden salves, and some hadden charms:

  And pharmacies of herbs, and eke save1 1sage, Salvia officinalis

  They dranken, for they would their lives have.

  For which this noble Duke, as he well can,

  Comforteth and honoureth every man,

  And made revel all the longe night,

  Unto the strange lordes, as was right.

  Nor there was holden no discomforting,

  But as at jousts or at a tourneying;

  For soothly there was no discomfiture,

  For falling is not but an aventure1. 1chance, accident

  Nor to be led by force unto a stake

  Unyielding, and with twenty knights y-take

  One person all alone, withouten mo’,

  And harried1 forth by armes, foot, and toe, 1dragged, hurried

  And eke his steede driven forth with staves,

  With footmen, bothe yeomen and eke knaves1, 1servants

  It was 1aretted him no villainy:1 1counted no disgrace to him1

  There may no man 1clepen it cowardy1. 1call it cowardice1

  For which anon Duke Theseus 1let cry1, — 1caused to be proclaimed1

  To stenten1 alle rancour and envy, — 1stop

  The gree1 as well on one side as the other, 1prize, merit

  And either side alike as other’s brother:

  And gave them giftes after their degree,

  And held a feaste fully dayes three:

  And conveyed the kinges worthily

  Out of his town a journee1 largely 1day’s journey

  And home went every man the righte way,

  There was no more but “Farewell, Have good day.”

  Of this bataille I will no more indite

  But speak of Palamon and of Arcite.

  Swelleth the breast of Arcite and the sore

  Increaseth at his hearte more and more.

  The clotted blood, for any leache-craft1 1surgical skill

  Corrupteth and is 1in his bouk y-laft1 1left in his body1

  That neither 1veine blood nor ventousing1, 1blood-letting or cupping1

  Nor drink of herbes may be his helping.

  The virtue expulsive or animal,

  From thilke virtue called natural,

  Nor may the venom voide, nor expel

  The pipes of his lungs began to swell

  And every lacert1 in his breast adown 1sinew, muscle

  Is shent1 with venom and corruption. 1destroyed

  Him gaineth1 neither, for to get his life, 1availeth

  Vomit upward, nor downward laxative;

  All is to-bursten thilke region;

  Nature hath now no domination.

  And certainly where nature will not wirch,1 1work

  Farewell physic: go bear the man to chirch.1 1church

  This all and some is, Arcite must die.

  For which he sendeth after Emily,

  And Palamon, that was his cousin dear,

  Then said he thus, as ye shall after hear.

  “Nought may the woful spirit in mine heart

  Declare one point of all my sorrows’ smart

  To you, my lady, that I love the most:

  But I bequeath the service of my ghost

  To you aboven every creature,

  Since that my life ne may no longer dure.

  Alas the woe! alas, the paines strong

  That I for you have suffered and so long!

  Alas the death, alas, mine Emily!

  Alas departing1 of our company! 1the severance

  Alas, mine hearte’s queen! alas, my wife!

  Mine hearte’s lady, ender of my life!

  What is this world? what aske men to have?

  Now with his love, now in his colde grave

  Al one, withouten any company.

  Farewell, my sweet, farewell, mine Emily,

  And softly take me in your armes tway,

  For love of God, and hearken what I say.

  I have here with my cousin Palamon

  Had strife and rancour many a day agone,

  For love of you, and for my jealousy.

  And Jupiter so 1wis my soule gie1, 1surely guides my soul1

  To speaken of a servant properly,

  With alle circumstances truely,

  That is to say, truth, honour, and knighthead,

  Wisdom, humbless1, estate, and high kindred, 1humility

  Freedom, and all that longeth to that art,

  So Jupiter have of my soul part,

  As in this world right now I know not one,

  So worthy to be lov’d as Palamon,

  That serveth you, and will do all his life.

  And if that you shall ever be a wife,

  Forget not Palamon, the gentle man.”

  And with that word his speech to fail began.

  For from his feet up to his breast was come

  The cold of death, that had him overnome1. 1overcome

  And yet moreover in his armes two

  The vital strength is lost, and all ago1. 1gone

  Only the intellect, withoute more,

  Tha
t dwelled in his hearte sick and sore,

  Gan faile, when the hearte felte death;

  Dusked1 his eyen two, and fail’d his breath. 1grew dim

  But on his lady yet he cast his eye;

  His laste word was; “Mercy, Emily!”

  His spirit changed house, and wente there,

  As I came never I cannot telle where.

  Therefore I stent1, I am no divinister2; 1refrain 2diviner

  Of soules find I nought in this register.

  Ne me list not th’ opinions to tell

  Of them, though that they writen where they dwell;

  Arcite is cold, there Mars his soule gie.1 1guide

  Now will I speake forth of Emily.

  Shriek’d Emily, and howled Palamon,

  And Theseus his sister took anon

  Swooning, and bare her from the corpse away.

  What helpeth it to tarry forth the day,

  To telle how she wept both eve and morrow?

  For in such cases women have such sorrow,

  When that their husbands be from them y-go1, 1gone

  That for the more part they sorrow so,

  Or elles fall into such malady,

  That at the laste certainly they die.

  Infinite be the sorrows and the tears

  Of olde folk, and folk of tender years,

  In all the town, for death of this Theban:

  For him there weepeth bothe child and man.

  So great a weeping was there none certain,

  When Hector was y-brought, all fresh y-slain,

  To Troy: alas! the pity that was there,

  Scratching of cheeks, and rending eke of hair.

  “Why wouldest thou be dead?” these women cry,

  “And haddest gold enough, and Emily.”

  No manner man might gladden Theseus,

  Saving his olde father Egeus,

  That knew this worlde’s transmutatioun,

  As he had seen it changen up and down,

  Joy after woe, and woe after gladness;

  And shewed him example and likeness.

  “Right as there died never man,” quoth he,

  “That he ne liv’d in earth in some degree1, 1rank, condition

  Right so there lived never man,” he said,

  “In all this world, that sometime be not died.

  This world is but a throughfare full of woe,

  And we be pilgrims, passing to and fro:

  Death is an end of every worldly sore.”

  And over all this said he yet much more

  To this effect, full wisely to exhort

  The people, that they should them recomfort.

  Duke Theseus, with all his busy cure1, 1care

  1Casteth about1, where that the sepulture 1deliberates1

  Of good Arcite may best y-maked be,

  And eke most honourable in his degree.

  And at the last he took conclusion,

  That there as first Arcite and Palamon

  Hadde for love the battle them between,

  That in that selve1 grove, sweet and green, 1self-same

  There as he had his amorous desires,

  His complaint, and for love his hote fires,

  He woulde make a fire1, in which th’ office 1funeral pyre

  Of funeral he might all accomplice;

  And 1let anon command1 to hack and hew 1immediately gave orders1

  The oakes old, and lay them 1on a rew1 1in a row1

  In culpons1, well arrayed for to brenne2. 1logs 2burn

  His officers with swifte feet they renne1 1run

  And ride anon at his commandement.

  And after this, Duke Theseus hath sent

  After a bier, and it all oversprad

  With cloth of gold, the richest that he had;

  And of the same suit he clad Arcite.

  Upon his handes were his gloves white,

  Eke on his head a crown of laurel green,

  And in his hand a sword full bright and keen.

  He laid him 1bare the visage1 on the bier, 1with face uncovered1

  Therewith he wept, that pity was to hear.

  And, for the people shoulde see him all,

  When it was day he brought them to the hall,

  That roareth of the crying and the soun’.

  Then came this woful Theban, Palamon,

  With sluttery beard, and ruggy ashy hairs,

  In clothes black, y-dropped all with tears,

  And (passing over weeping Emily)

  The ruefullest of all the company.

  And 1inasmuch as1 the service should be 1in order that1

  The more noble and rich in its degree,

  Duke Theseus let forth three steedes bring,

  That trapped were in steel all glittering.

  And covered with the arms of Dan Arcite.

  Upon these steedes, that were great and white,

  There satte folk, of whom one bare his shield,

  Another his spear in his handes held;

  The thirde bare with him his bow Turkeis1, 1Turkish.

  Of brent1 gold was the case2 and the harness: 1burnished 2quiver

  And ride forth 1a pace1 with sorrowful cheer2 1at a foot pace1

  Toward the grove, as ye shall after hear. 2expression

  The noblest of the Greekes that there were

  Upon their shoulders carried the bier,

  With slacke pace, and eyen red and wet,

  Throughout the city, by the master1 street, 1main

  That spread was all with black, and wondrous high

  Right of the same is all the street y-wrie.1 1covered

  Upon the right hand went old Egeus,

  And on the other side Duke Theseus,

  With vessels in their hand of gold full fine,

  All full of honey, milk, and blood, and wine;

  Eke Palamon, with a great company;

  And after that came woful Emily,

  With fire in hand, as was that time the guise1, 1custom

  To do th’ office of funeral service.

  High labour, and full great appareling1 1preparation

  Was at the service, and the pyre-making,

  That with its greene top the heaven raught1, 1reached

  And twenty fathom broad its armes straught1: 1stretched

  This is to say, the boughes were so broad.

  Of straw first there was laid many a load.

  But how the pyre was maked up on height,

  And eke the names how the trees hight1, 1were called

  As oak, fir, birch, asp1, alder, holm, poplere, 1aspen

  Willow, elm, plane, ash, box, chestnut, lind1, laurere, 1linden, lime

  Maple, thorn, beech, hazel, yew, whipul tree,

  How they were fell’d, shall not be told for me;

  Nor how the goddes1 rannen up and down 1the forest deities

  Disinherited of their habitatioun,

  In which they wonned1 had in rest and peace, 1dwelt

  Nymphes, Faunes, and Hamadryades;

  Nor how the beastes and the birdes all

  Fledden for feare, when the wood gan fall;

  Nor how the ground aghast1 was of the light, 1terrified

  That was not wont to see the sunne bright;

  Nor how the fire was couched1 first with stre2, 1laid 2straw

  And then with dry stickes cloven in three,

  And then with greene wood and spicery1, 1spices

  And then with cloth of gold and with pierrie1, 1precious stones

  And garlands hanging with full many a flower,

  The myrrh, the incense with so sweet odour;

  Nor how Arcita lay among all this,

  Nor what richess about his body is;

  Nor how that Emily, as was the guise1, 1custom

  1Put in the fire1 of funeral service; 1appplied the torch1

  Nor how she swooned when she made the fire,

  Nor what she spake, nor what was her desire;

  Nor what jewels men in t
he fire then cast

  When that the fire was great and burned fast;

  Nor how some cast their shield, and some their spear,

  And of their vestiments, which that they wear,

  And cuppes full of wine, and milk, and blood,

  Into the fire, that burnt as it were wood1; 1mad

  Nor how the Greekes with a huge rout1 1procession

  Three times riden all the fire about

  Upon the left hand, with a loud shouting,

  And thries with their speares clattering;

  And thries how the ladies gan to cry;

  Nor how that led was homeward Emily;

  Nor how Arcite is burnt to ashes cold;

  Nor how the lyke-wake1 was y-hold 1wake

  All thilke1 night, nor how the Greekes play 1that

  The wake-plays1, ne keep2 I not to say: 1funeral games 2care

  Who wrestled best naked, with oil anoint,

  Nor who that bare him best 1in no disjoint1. 1in any contest1

  I will not tell eke how they all are gone

  Home to Athenes when the play is done;

  But shortly to the point now will I wend1, 1come

  And maken of my longe tale an end.

  By process and by length of certain years

  All stinted1 is the mourning and the tears 1ended

  Of Greekes, by one general assent.

  Then seemed me there was a parlement

  At Athens, upon certain points and cas1: 1cases

  Amonge the which points y-spoken was

  To have with certain countries alliance,

  And have of Thebans full obeisance.

  For which this noble Theseus anon

  Let1 send after the gentle Palamon, 1caused

  Unwist1 of him what was the cause and why: 1unknown

  But in his blacke clothes sorrowfully

  He came at his commandment 1on hie1; 1in haste1

  Then sente Theseus for Emily.

  When they were set1, and hush’d was all the place 1seated

  And Theseus abided1 had a space 1waited

  Ere any word came from his wise breast

  1His eyen set he there as was his lest1, 1he cast his eyes

  And with a sad visage he sighed still, wherever he pleased1

  And after that right thus he said his will.

  “The firste mover of the cause above

  When he first made the faire chain of love,

  Great was th’ effect, and high was his intent;

  Well wist he why, and what thereof he meant:

  For with that faire chain of love he bond1 1bound

  The fire, the air, the water, and the lond

  In certain bondes, that they may not flee:

  That same prince and mover eke,” quoth he,

  “Hath stablish’d, in this wretched world adown,

  Certain of dayes and duration

  To all that are engender’d in this place,

  Over the whiche day they may not pace1, 1pass