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 min 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,

THE KNIGHTES TALE.

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 pitee for to here.

And therwithall Diane gan appere
With bowe in hond, right as an hunteresse,
And sayde; doughter, stint thin hevinesse.
Among the goddes highe it is affermed,

And by eterne word written and confermed,

71

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 orison.

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 pitous 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,
For 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 offension

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 swete 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, Fond 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.