And though the ones on a tyme mysfille,
When Vulcanus had caught the in his laas,
And fand the liggyng by his wyf, allaas!
For thilke sorwe that was in thin herte,
Have reuthe as wel upon my peynes smerte.
I am yong and unkonnyng, as thou wost,
And, as I trowe, with love offendid most,
That ever was eny lyves creature:
For sche, that doth me al this wo endure,
Ne rekketh never, whether I synke or flete.
And wel I woot, or sche me mercy heete,
I moot with strengthe wyn hir in the place:
And wel I wot, withouten help or grace
Of the, ne may my strengthe nought avayle.
Then help me, lord, to morn in my batayle,
For thilke fyr that whilom brende the,
As wel as this fire now brenneth me;
And do to morn that I have the victorie.
Myn be the travail, al thin be the glorie.
Thy soverein tempul wol I most honouren
Of any place, and alway most labouren
In thy plesaunce and in thy craftes strong.
And in thy tempul I wol my baner hong,
And alle the armes of my companye,
And ever more, unto that day I dye,
Eterne fyr I wol bifore the fynde.
And eek to this avow I wol me bynde :
My berd, myn heer that hangeth longe adoun,
That never yit ne felt offensioun
Of rasour ne of schere, I wol thee give,
And be thy trewe servaunt whiles I lyve.
Lord, have rowthe uppon my sorwes sore,
Gif me the victorie, I aske no more."
The preyer stynt of Arcita the strange,
The rynges on the tempul dore that hange,
And eek the dores, clatereden ful fast,
Of which Arcita somwhat was agast.
The fyres brenden on the auter bright,
That it gan al the tempul for to light;
A swote smel anon the ground up gaf,
And Arcita anon his hand up haf,
And more encens into the fyr yet cast,
With othir rightes, and than atte last
The statu of Mars bigan his hauberk ryng.
And with that soun he herd a murmuryng
Ful lowe and dym, and sayde this, "Victorie."
For which he gaf to Mars honour and glorie.
And thus with joye, and hope wel to fare,
Arcite anoon unto his inne is fare,
As fayn as foul is of the brighte sonne.
And right anon such stryf is bygonne
For that grauntyng, in the heven above,
Bitwix Venus the goddes of love,
And Martz the sterne god armypotent,
That Jupiter was busy it to stent:
Til that the pale Saturnes the colde,
That knew so many of aventures olde,
Fond in his olde experiens an art,
That he ful sone hath plesyd every part.
As soth is sayd, eelde hath gret avantage,
In eelde is bothe wisdom and usage:
Men may the eelde at-ren, but nat at-rede.
Saturne anon, to stynte stryf and drede,
Al be it that it be agayns his kynde,
Of al this stryf he can a remedy fynde.
'My deere doughter Venus," quod Satourne,
'My cours, that hath so wyde for to tourne,
Hath more power than woot eny man.
Myn is the drenchyng in the see so wan;
Myn is the prisoun in the derke cote;
Myn is the stranglyng and hangyng by the throte; 2460
The murmur, and the cherles rebellyng;
The groyning, and the pryvé enpoysonyng.
I do vengance and pleyn correctioun,
Whiles I dwelle in the signe of the lyoun.
Myn is the ruen of the hihe halles,
The fallyng of the toures and the walles
Upon the mynour or the carpenter :
I slowh Sampsoun in schakyng the piler.
And myne ben the maladies colde,
2453.—agayns his kynde. According to the " Compost of Ptholomeus," Saturn was influential in producing strife: "And the children of the sayd Saturne shall be great jangeleres and chyders.... and they will never forgyve tyll they be revenged of theyr quarell."
2456. My cours. The course of the planet Saturn.
2457.-more power. The " Compost of Ptholomeus," quoted above, says of Saturn; "he is mighty of hymself... It is more than xxx yere or he may ronne his course. ... Whan he doth reygne, there is moche debate."
The derke tresoun, and the castes olde:
Myn lokyng is the fadir of pestilens.
Now wepe nomore, I schal do my diligence,
That Palamon, that is myn owen knight,
Schal have his lady, as thou him bihight.
Thow Martz schal kepe his knight, yet nevertheles
Bitwixe you ther moot som tyme be pees:
Al be ye nought of oo complexioun,
That ilke day causeth such divisioun.
I am thi ayel, redy at thy wille;
Wepe thou nomore, I wol thi lust fulfille."
Now wol I stynt of the goddes above,
Of Mars, and of Venus goddes of love,
And telle you, as pleinly as I can,
The grete effecte for that I bigan.
Gret was the fest in Athenus that day,
And eek that lusty sesoun of that May
Made every wight to ben in such plesaunce,
That al the Monday jousten they and daunce,
And spende it in Venus heigh servise.
But by the cause that they schuln arise
Erly a-morwe for to see that fight,
Unto their rest wente they at nyght.
And on the morwe whan the day gan spryng,
Of hors and hernoys noyse and clateryng
Ther was in the oostes al aboute:
And to the paleys rood ther many a route
Of lordes, upon steede and palfreys.
Ther mayst thou see devysyng of herneys
So uncowth and so riche wrought and wel
Of goldsmithry, of browdyng, and of steel;
The scheldes bright, testers, and trappures;
Gold-beten helmes, hauberks, and cote armures;
Lordes in paramentes on her coursers,
Knightes of retenu, and eek squyers;
Rayhyng the speres, and helmes bokelyng,
Girdyng of scheeldes, with layneres lasyng;
Ther as need is, they were nothing ydel:
Ther fomen steedes, on the golden bridel
Gnawyng, and faste armurers also
With fyle and hamer prikyng to and fro;
Yemen on foote, and knaves many oon
With schorte staves, as thikke as they may goon;
Pypes, trompes, nakers, and clariounes,
That in the batail blewe bloody sownes;
The paleys ful of pepul up and doun,
Heer thre, ther ten, haldyng her questioun,
Dyvynyng of this Thebans knightes two.
Som seyden thus, som seyd it schal be so;
Som heelde with him with the blake berd,
Som with the ballyd, som with thikke hered;
Som sayd he loked grym as he wold fight:
He hath a sparth of twenti pound of wight.
Thus was the halle ful of devynyng,
Lang after that the sonne gan to spring.
So in the Teseide,—
Qui tre, la quatro, e qui sei adunati,
Tra lor mostrando diverse ragione.
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