The Knight's Tale, Part Three, ll. 1023-1624 (The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer)

From The Canterbury Tales:
The Knight's Tale

Sequitur Pars Tercia
(Here begins the third part)

	I trowe men wolde deme it necligence,
	If I foryete to tellen the dispence
1025	Of Theseus, that gooth so bisily
	To maken up the lystes roially;
	That swich a noble theatre as it was,
	I dar wel seyen, in this world ther nas.
	The circuit a myle was aboute,
1030	Walled of stoon, and dyched al withoute.
	Round was the shap, in manere of compas,
	Ful of degrees the heighte of sixty pas,
	That whan a man was set on o degree,
	He lette nat his felawe for to see.

1035	Estward ther stood a gate of marbul whit,
	Westward, right swich another in the opposit;
	And shortly to concluden, swich a place
	Was noon in erthe, as in so litel space.
	For in the lond ther was no crafty man
1040	That geometrie or ars-metrike kan,
	Ne portreytour, ne kervere of ymages,
	That Theseus ne yaf him mete and wages,
	The theatre for to maken and devyse.
	And for to doon his ryte and sacrifise,
1045	He estward hath upon the gate above,
	In worshipe of Venus, goddesse of love,
	Doon make an auter and an oratorie.
	And on the gate westward, in memorie
	Of Mars, he maked hath right swich another,
1050	That coste largely of gold a fother.
	And northward, in a touret on the wal
	Of alabastre whit, and reed coral,
	An oratorie, riche for to see,
	In worshipe of Dyane, of chastitee,
1055	Hath Theseus doon wroght in noble wyse.

	But yet hadde I foryeten to devyse
	The noble kervyng and the portreitures,
	The shap, the contenaunce, and the figures,
	That weren in thise oratories thre.

1060	First in the temple of Venus maystow se
	Wroght on the wal, ful pitous to biholde,
	The broken slepes and the sikes colde,
	The sacred teeris and the waymentynge,
	The firy strokes, and the desirynge
1065	That loves servantz in this lyf enduren;
	The othes that her covenantz assuren;
	Plesaunce and Hope, Desir, Foolhardynesse,
	Beautee and Youthe, Bauderie, Richesse,
	Charmes and Force, Lesynges, Flaterye,
1070	Despense, Bisynesse, and Jalousye,
	That wered of yelewe gooldes a gerland,
	And a cokkow sittynge on hir hand;
	Festes, instrumentz, caroles, daunces,
	Lust and array, and alle the circumstaunces
1075	Of love, whiche that I rekned, and rekne shal,
	By ordre weren peynted on the wal,
	And mo than I kan make of mencioun;
	For soothly, al the mount of Citheroun,
	Ther Venus hath hir principal dwellynge,
1080	Was shewed on the wal in portreyynge,
	With al the gardyn and the lustynesse.
	Nat was foryeten the Porter Ydelnesse,
	Ne Narcisus the faire, of yore agon,
	Ne yet the folye of kyng Salamon,
1085	And eek the grete strengthe of Ercules -
	Th'enchauntementz of Medea and Circes -
	Ne of Turnus, with the hardy fiers corage,
	The riche Cresus, kaytyf in servage.
	Thus may ye seen, that wysdom ne richesse,
1090	Beautee ne sleighte, strengthe ne hardynesse,
	Ne may with Venus holde champartie,
	For as hir list, the world than may she gye.
	Lo, alle thise folk so caught were in hir las,
	Til they for wo ful ofte seyde "allas!"
1095	Suffiseth heere ensamples oon or two-
	And, though, I koude rekene a thousand mo.

	The statue of Venus, glorious for to se,
	Was naked, fletynge in the large see,
	And fro the navele doun al covered was
1100	With wawes grene, and brighte as any glas.
	A citole in hir right hand hadde she,
	And on hir heed, ful semely for to se,
	A rose gerland, fressh and wel smellynge;
	Above hir heed hir dowves flikerynge.
1105	Biforn hir stood hir sone Cupido,
	Upon his shuldres wynges hadde he two,
	And blynd he was, as it was often seene.
	A bowe he bar, and arwes brighte and kene.

	Why sholde I noght as wel eek telle yow al
1110	The portreiture, that was upon the wal
	Withinne the temple of myghty Mars the rede?
	Al peynted was the wal in lengthe and brede
	Lyk to the estres of the grisly place
	That highte the grete temple of Mars in Trace,
1115	In thilke colde frosty regioun
	Ther as Mars hath his sovereyn mansioun.

	First on the wal was peynted a forest
	In which ther dwelleth neither man ne best,
	With knotty, knarry, bareyne trees olde,
1120	Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde,
	In which ther ran a rumbel and a swough
	As though a storm sholde bresten every bough.
	And dounward from an hille, under a bente,
	Ther stood the temple of Mars Armypotente,
1125	Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entree
	Was long and streit, and gastly for to see,
	And therout came a rage and suche a veze,
	That it made al the gate for to rese.
	The northren lyght in at the dores shoon,
1130	For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noon,
	Thurgh which men myghten any light discerne.
	The dore was al of adamant eterne,
	Yclenched overthwart and endelong
	With iren tough, and for to make it strong
1135	Every pyler, the temple to sustene,
	Was tonne-greet of iren bright and shene.

	Ther saugh I first the dirke ymaginyng
	Of Felonye, and al the compassyng,
	The crueel Ire, reed as any gleede,
1140	The pykepurs, and eek the pale Drede,
	The smylere with the knyf under the cloke,
	The shepne brennynge with the blake smoke,
	The tresoun of the mordrynge in the bedde,
	The open werre, with woundes al bibledde;
1145	Contek, with blody knyf and sharp manace,
	Al ful of chirkyng was that sory place.
	The sleere of hymself yet saugh I ther,
	His herte-blood hath bathed al his heer;
	The nayl ydryven in the shode anyght,
1150	The colde deeth, with mouth gapyng upright.
	Amyddes of the temple sat Meschaunce,
	With Disconfort and Sory Contenaunce.
	Yet saugh I Woodnesse laughynge in his rage,
	Armed Compleint, Outhees, and fiers Outrage;
1155	The careyne in the busk with throte ycorve,
	A thousand slayn, and nat of qualm ystorve,
	The tiraunt with the pray by force yraft,
	The toun destroyed, ther was nothyng laft.
	Yet saugh I brent the shippes hoppesteres,
1160	The hunte strangled with the wilde beres,
	The sowe freten the child right in the cradel,
	The cook yscalded, for al his longe ladel.
	Noght was foryeten by the infortune of Marte,
	The cartere overryden with his carte,
1165	Under the wheel ful lowe he lay adoun.
	Ther were also, of Martes divisioun,
	The barbour, and the bocher, and the smyth
	That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his styth.
	And al above, depeynted in a tour,
1170	Saugh I Conquest sittynge in greet honour,
	With the sharpe swerd over his heed
	Hangynge by a soutil twyned threed.
	Depeynted was the slaughtre of Julius,
	Of grete Nero, and of Antonius;
1175	Al be that thilke tyme they were unborn,
	Yet was hir deth depeynted ther-biforn
	By manasynge of Mars, right by figure;
	So was it shewed in that portreiture,
	As is depeynted in the sterres above
1180	Who shal be slayn or elles deed for love.
	Suffiseth oon ensample in stories olde,
	I may nat rekene hem alle though I wolde.

	The statue of Mars upon a carte stood
	Armed, and looked grym as he were wood,
1185	And over his heed ther shynen two figures
	Of sterres, that been cleped in scriptures
	That oon Puella, that oother Rubeus.
	This god of armes was arrayed thus:
	A wolf ther stood biforn hym at his feet,
1190	With eyen rede, and of a man he eet.
	With soutil pencel was depeynt this storie,
	In redoutynge of Mars and of his glorie.

	Now to the temple of Dyane the chaste
	As shortly as I kan I wol me haste,
1195	To telle yow al the descripsioun.
	Depeynted been the walles up and doun
	Of huntyng and of shamefast chastitee.
	Ther saugh I, how woful Calistopee
	Whan that Diane agreved was with here,
1200	Was turned from a womman til a bere,
	And after was she maad the loode-sterre.
	Thus was it peynted, I kan sey yow no ferre-
	Hir sone is eek a sterre, as men may see.
	Ther saugh I Dane, yturned til a tree,
1205	I mene nat the goddesse Diane,
	But Penneus doughter, which that highte Dane.
	Ther saugh I Attheon an hert ymaked,
	For vengeaunce that he saugh Diane al naked.
	I saugh how that hise houndes have hym caught
1210	And freeten hym, for that they knewe hym naught.
	Yet peynted was a litel forther moor
	How Atthalante hunted the wilde boor,
	And Meleagree, and many another mo,
	For which Dyane wroghte hym care and wo.
1215	Ther saugh I many another wonder storie,
	The which me list nat drawen to memorie.

	This goddesse on an hert ful hye seet,
	With smale houndes al aboute hir feet;
	And undernethe hir feet she hadde a moone,
1220	Wexynge it was, and sholde wanye soone.
	In gaude grene hir statue clothed was,
	With bowe in honde, and arwes in a cas.
	Hir eyen caste she ful lowe adoun,
	Ther Pluto hath his derke regioun.
1225	A womman travaillynge was hir biforn;
	But for hir child so longe was unborn
	Ful pitously Lucyna gan she calle,
	And seyde, "Help, for thou mayst best of alle!"
	Wel koude he peynten lyfly, that it wroghte,
1230	With many a floryn he the hewes boghte.

	Now been thise listes maad, and Theseus,
	That at his grete cost arrayed thus
	The temples, and the theatre every deel,
	Whan it was doon, hym lyked wonder weel.-
1235	But stynte I wole of Theseus a lite,
	And speke of Palamon and of Arcite.

	The day approcheth of hir retournynge,
	That everich sholde an hundred knyghtes brynge
	The bataille to darreyne, as I yow tolde.
1240	And til Atthenes, hir covenantz for to holde,
	Hath everich of hem broght an hundred knyghtes,
	Wel armed for the werre at alle rightes.
	And sikerly, ther trowed many a man,
	That nevere sithen, that the world bigan,
1245	As for to speke of knyghthod of hir hond,
	As fer as God hath maked see or lond,
	Nas of so fewe so noble a compaignye.
	For every wight that lovede chivalrye,
	And wolde, his thankes, han a passant name,
1250	Hath preyed that he myghte been of that game;
	And wel was hym that therto chosen was.
	For if ther fille tomorwe swich a cas
	Ye knowen wel, that every lusty knyght
	That loveth paramours, and hath his myght,
1255	Were it in Engelond or elles where,
	They wolde, hir thankes, wilnen to be there,
	To fighte for a lady, benedicitee!
	It were a lusty sighte for to see.

	And right so ferden they with Palamon,
1260	With hym ther wenten knyghtes many on.
	Som wol ben armed in an haubergeoun,
	In a bristplate, and in a light gypoun,
	And som wol have a paire plates large,
	And som wol have a Pruce sheeld, or a targe,
1265	Som wol ben armed on hir legges weel,
	And have an ax, and somme a mace of steel.
	Ther is no newe gyse, that it nas old;
	Armed were they, as I have yow told,
	Everych after his opinioun.

1270	Ther maistow seen comyng with Palamoun,
	Lygurge hym-self, the grete kyng of Trace.
	Blak was his berd, and manly was his face,
	The cercles of hise eyen in his heed,
	They gloweden bitwyxen yelow and reed,
1275	And lik a grifphon looked he aboute,
	With kempe heeris on hise browes stoute,
	Hise lymes grete, hise brawnes harde and stronge,
	Hise shuldres brode, hise armes rounde and longe;
	And as the gyse was in his contree,
1280	Ful hye upon a chaar of gold stood he,
	With foure white boles in the trays.
	In stede of cote-armure, over his harnays
	With nayles yelewe and brighte as any gold
	He hadde a beres skyn, col-blak, for old;
1285	His longe heer was kembd bihynde his bak,
	As any ravenes fethere it shoon for-blak.
	A wrethe of gold arm-greet, of huge wighte,
	Upon his heed, set ful of stones brighte,
	Of fyne rubyes and of dyamauntz.
1290	Aboute his chaar ther wenten white alauntz,
	Twenty and mo, as grete as any steer,
	To hunten at the leoun or the deer,
	And folwed hym, with mosel faste ybounde,
	Colored of gold, and tourettes fyled rounde.
1295	An hundred lordes hadde he in his route,
	Armed ful wel, with hertes stierne and stoute.

	With Arcita, in stories as men fynde,
	The grete Emetreus, the kyng of Inde,
	Upon a steede bay, trapped in steel,
1300	Covered in clooth of gold dyapred weel,
	Cam ridynge lyk the god of armes, Mars.
	His cote-armure was of clooth of Tars,
	Couched with perles white and rounde and grete.
	His sadel was of brend gold newe ybete;
1305	A mantelet upon his shuldre hangynge
	Bret-ful of rubyes rede, as fyr sparklynge.
	His crispe heer lyk rynges was yronne,
	And that was yelow, and glytered as the sonne.
	His nose was heigh, hise eyen bright citryn,
1310	Hise lippes rounde, his colour was sangwyn;
	A fewe frakenes in his face yspreynd,
	Bitwixen yelow and somdel blak ymeynd,
	And as a leoun he his looking caste.
	Of fyve and twenty yeer his age I caste;
1315	His berd was wel bigonne for to sprynge,
	His voys was as a trompe thonderynge.
	Upon his heed he wered of laurer grene
	A gerland, fressh and lusty for to sene.
	Upon his hand he bar for his deduyt
1320	An egle tame, as any lilye whyt.
	An hundred lordes hadde he with hym there,
	Al armed, save hir heddes, in al hir gere,
	Ful richely in alle maner thynges.
	For trusteth wel, that dukes, erles, kynges,
1325	Were gadered in this noble compaignye,
	For love, and for encrees of chivalrye.
	Aboute this kyng ther ran on every part
	Ful many a tame leoun and leopard,
	And in this wise thise lordes, alle and some
1330	Been on the sonday to the citee come,
	Aboute pryme, and in the toun alight.

	This Theseus, this duc, this worthy knyght,
	Whan he had broght hem into his citee,
	And inned hem, everich in his degree,
1335	He festeth hem, and dooth so greet labour
	To esen hem and doon hem al honour,
	That yet men wenen that no maner wit
	Of noon estaat ne koude amenden it.

	The mynstralcye, the service at the feeste,
1340	The grete yiftes to the mooste and leeste,
	The riche array of Theseus paleys,
	Ne who sat first ne last upon the deys,
	What ladyes fairest been, or best daunsynge,
	Or which of hem kan dauncen best and synge,
1345	Ne who moost felyngly speketh of love,
	What haukes sitten on the perche above,
	What houndes liggen in the floor adoun-
	Of al this make I now no mencioun;
	But, al th'effect, that thynketh me the beste,
1350	Now cometh the point, and herkneth if yow leste.

	The Sonday nyght, er day bigan to sprynge,
	Whan Palamon the larke herde synge,
	(Al though it nere nat day by houres two,
	Yet song the larke) and Palamon right tho.
1355	With hooly herte and with an heigh corage
	He roos, to wenden on his pilgrymage,
	Unto the blisful Citherea benigne,
	I mene Venus, honurable and digne.
	And in hir houre he walketh forth a pas
1360	Unto the lystes, ther hire temple was,
	And doun he kneleth, with ful humble cheere,
	And herte soor, and seyde in this manere.

	"Faireste of faire, O lady myn, Venus,
	Doughter to Jove, and spouse of Vulcanus,
1365	Thow glader of the Mount of Citheron,
	For thilke love thow haddest to Adoon,
	Have pitee of my bittre teeris smerte,
	And taak myn humble preyere at thyn herte.
	Allas, I ne have no langage to telle
1370	Th'effectes, ne the tormentz of myn helle!
	Myn herte may myne harmes nat biwreye,
	I am so confus that I kan noght seye.
	But 'Mercy, lady bright! that knowest weele
	My thought, and seest what harmes that I feele.'
1375	Considere al this, and rewe upon my soore,
	As wisly, as I shal for everemoore,
	Emforth my myght, thy trewe servant be,
	And holden werre alwey with chastitee.
	That make I myn avow, so ye me helpe.
1380	I kepe noght of armes for to yelpe,
	Ne I ne axe nat tomorwe to have victorie,
	Ne renoun in this cas, ne veyne glorie
	Of pris of armes blowen up and doun,
	But I wolde have fully possessioun
1385	Of Emelye, and dye in thy servyse.
	Fynd thow the manere how, and in what wyse-
	I recche nat, but it may bettre be
	To have victorie of hem, or they of me-
	So that I have my lady in myne armes.
1390	For though so be, that Mars is god of armes,
	Youre vertu is so greet in hevene above
	That if yow list, I shal wel have my love.
	Thy temple wol I worshipe everemo,
	And on thyn auter, where I ride or go,
1395	I wol doon sacrifice and fires beete.
	And if ye wol nat so, my lady sweete,
	Thanne preye I thee, tomorwe with a spere
	That Arcita me thurgh the herte bere.
	Thanne rekke I noght, whan I have lost my lyf,
1400	Though that Arcita wynne hir to his wyf.
	This is th'effect and ende of my preyere,
	Yif me my love, thow blisful lady deere!"

	Whan the orison was doon of Palamon,
	His sacrifice he dide, and that anon,
1405	Ful pitously with alle circumstaunces,
	Al telle I noght as now his observaunces.
	But atte laste, the statue of Venus shook,
	And made a signe wherby that he took
	That his preyere accepted was that day.
1410	For thogh the signe shewed a delay,
	Yet wiste he wel that graunted was his boone,
	And with glad herte he wente hym hoom ful soone.

	The thridde houre inequal, that Palamon
	Bigan to Venus temple for to gon,
1415	Up roos the sonne, and up roos Emelye,
	And to the temple of Dyane gan hye.
	Hir maydens that she thider with hir ladde,
	Ful redily with hem the fyr they ladde,
	Th'encens, the clothes, and the remenant al
1420	That to the sacrifice longen shal.
	The hornes fulle of meeth, as was the gyse,
	Ther lakked noght to doon hir sacrifise,
	Smokynge the temple, ful of clothes faire.
	This Emelye, with herte debonaire,
1425	Hir body wessh with water of a welle-
	But how she dide hir ryte I dar nat telle,
	But it be any thing in general;
	And yet it were a game to heeren al,
	To hym that meneth wel it were no charge,
1430	But it is good a man been at his large.-
	Hir brighte heer was kembd, untressed al,
	A coroune of a grene ook cerial
	Upon hir heed was set, ful fair and meete.
	Two fyres on the auter gan she beete,
1435	And dide hir thynges as men may biholde
	In Stace of Thebes, and thise bookes olde.
	Whan kyndled was the fyr, with pitous cheere
	Unto Dyane she spak as ye may heere.

	"O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene,
1440	To whom bothe hevene and erthe and see is sene,
	Queene of the regne of Pluto derk and lowe,
	Goddesse of maydens, that myn herte hast knowe
	Ful many a yeer, and woost what I desire,
	As keep me fro thy vengeaunce and thyn ire,
1445	That Attheon aboughte cruelly.
	Chaste goddesse, wel wostow that I
	Desire to ben a mayden al my lyf,
	Ne nevere wol I be no love ne wyf.
	I am, thow woost, yet of thy compaignye,
1450	A mayde, and love huntynge and venerye,
	And for to walken in the wodes wilde,
	And noght to ben a wyf, and be with childe.
	Noght wol I knowe the compaignye of man;
	Now helpe me, lady, sith ye may and kan,
1455	For tho thre formes that thou hast in thee.
	And Palamon, that hath swich love to me,
	And eek Arcite, that loveth me so soore,
	This grace I preye thee, withoute moore,
	As sende love and pees bitwixe hem two,
1460	And fro me turne awey hir hertes so,
	That al hir hoote love and hir desir,
	And al hir bisy torment and hir fir,
	Be queynt, or turned in another place.
	And if so be thou wolt do me no grace,
1465	And if my destynee be shapen so
	That I shal nedes have oon of hem two,
	As sende me hym that moost desireth me.
	Bihoold, goddesse, of clene chastitee,
	The bittre teeris that on my chekes falle.
1470	Syn thou art mayde and kepere of us alle,
	My maydenhede thou kepe and wel conserve,
	And whil I lyve a mayde, I wol thee serve."

	The fires brenne upon the auter cleere,
	Whil Emelye was thus in hir preyere;
1475	But sodeynly she saugh a sighte queynte,
	For right anon oon of the fyres queynte,
	And quyked agayn, and after that anon
	That oother fyr was queynt and al agon;
	And as it queynte, it made a whistelynge
1480	As doon thise wete brondes in hir brennynge;
	And at the brondes ende out ran anon
	As it were blody dropes many oon;
	For which so soore agast was Emelye
	That she was wel ny mad, and gan to crye;
1485	For she ne wiste what it signyfied.
	But oonly for the feere thus hath she cried,
	And weep that it was pitee for to heere.
	And therwithal Dyane gan appeere,
	With bowe in honde, right as an hunteresse,
1490	And seyde, "Doghter, stynt thyn hevynesse.
	Among the goddes hye it is affermed,
	And by eterne word writen and confermed,
	Thou shalt ben wedded unto oon of tho
	That han for thee so muchel care and wo.
1495	But unto which of hem I may nat telle,
	Farwel, for I ne may no lenger dwelle.
	The fires whiche that on myn auter brenne
	Shule thee declaren, er that thou go henne,
	Thyn aventure of love, as in this cas."
1500	And with that word, the arwes in the caas
	Of the goddesse clateren faste and rynge,
	And forth she wente, and made a vanysshynge,
	For which this Emelye astoned was,
	And seyde, "What amounteth this, allas!
1505	I putte me in thy proteccioun,
	Dyane, and in thy disposicioun!"
	And hoom she goth anon the nexte weye.
	This is th'effect, ther is namoore to seye.
	The nexte houre of Mars folwynge this
1510	Arcite unto the temple walked is
	Of fierse Mars, to doon his sacrifise
	With alle the rytes of his payen wyse.
	With pitous herte and heigh devocioun
	Right thus to Mars he seyde his orisoun.

1515	"O stronge god, that in the regnes colde
	Of Trace honoured art and lord yholde,
	And hast in every regne and every lond
	Of armes al the brydel in thyn hond,
	And hem fortunest as thee lyst devyse,
1520	Accepte of me my pitous sacrifise.
	If so be that my youthe may deserve,
	And that my myght be worthy for to serve
	Thy godhede, that I may been oon of thyne,
	Thanne preye I thee to rewe upon my pyne.
1525	For thilke peyne, and thilke hoote fir,
	In which thou whilom brendest for desir
	Whan that thow usedest the greet beautee
	Of faire yonge fresshe Venus free,
	And haddest hir in armes at thy wille-
1530	Although thee ones on a tyme mysfille
	Whan Vulcanus hadde caught thee in his las,
	And foond thee liggynge by his wyf, allas!-
	For thilke sorwe that was in thyn herte
	Have routhe as wel, upon my peynes smerte!
1535	I am yong and unkonnynge as thow woost,
	And, as I trowe, with love offended moost
	That evere was any lyves creature,
	For she that dooth me al this wo endure
	Ne reccheth nevere wher I synke or fleete.
1540	And wel I woot, er she me mercy heete,
	I moot with strengthe wynne hir in the place.
	And,. wel I woot, withouten help or grace
	Of thee, ne may my strengthe noght availle.
	Thanne help me, lord, tomorwe in my bataille
1545	For thilke fyr that whilom brente thee,
	As wel as thilke fyr now brenneth me!
	And do that I tomorwe have victorie,
	Myn be the travaille and thyn be the glorie!
	Thy sovereyn temple wol I moost honouren
1550	Of any place, and alwey moost labouren
	In thy plesaunce, and in thy craftes stronge,
	And in thy temple I wol my baner honge,
	And alle the armes of my compaignye;
	And evere-mo, unto that day I dye,
1555	Eterne fir I wol biforn thee fynde.
	And eek to this avow I wol me bynde;
	My beerd, myn heer, that hongeth long adoun,
	That nevere yet ne felte offensioun
	Of rasour, nor of shere, I wol thee yeve,
1560	And ben thy trewe servant whil I lyve.
	Now lord, have routhe upon my sorwes soore;
	Yif me victorie, I aske thee namoore!"

	The preyere stynt of Arcita the stronge;
	The rynges on the temple dore that honge,
1565	And eek the dores clatereden ful faste,
	Of which Arcita somwhat hym agaste.
	The fyres brenden upon the auter brighte,
	That it gan al the temple for to lighte,
	And sweete smel the ground anon up yaf,
1570	And Arcita anon his hand up haf,
	And moore encens into the fyr he caste,
	With othere rytes mo, and atte laste
	The statue of Mars bigan his hauberk rynge,
	And with that soun he herde a murmurynge,
1575	Ful lowe and dym, and seyde thus, "Victorie!"
	For which he yaf to Mars honour and glorie;
	And thus with joye and hope wel to fare,
	Arcite anon unto his in is fare,
	As fayn as fowel is of the brighte sonne.

1580	And right anon swich strif ther is bigonne
	For thilke grauntyng, in the hevene above
	Bitwixe Venus, the Goddesse of Love,
	And Mars the stierne God armypotente,
	That Jupiter was bisy it to stente;
1585	Til that the pale Saturnus the colde,
	That knew so manye of aventures olde,
	Foond in his olde experience an art
	That he ful soone hath plesed every part.
	As sooth is seyd, elde hath greet avantage;
1590	In elde is bothe wysdom and usage;
	Men may the olde atrenne, and noght atrede.
	Saturne anon, to stynten strif and drede,
	Al be it that it is agayn his kynde,
	Of al this strif he gan remedie fynde.

1595	"My deere doghter Venus," quod Saturne,
	"My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne,
	Hath moore power than woot any man.
	Myn is the drenchyng in the see so wan,
	Myn is the prison in the derke cote,
1600	Myn is the stranglyng and hangyng by the throte,
	The murmure, and the cherles rebellyng,
	The groynynge, and the pryvee empoysonyng.
	I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun,
	Whil I dwelle in the signe of the leoun.
1605	Myn is the ruyne of the hye halles,
	The fallynge of the toures and of the walles
	Upon the mynour, or the carpenter.
	I slow Sampsoun, shakynge the piler,
	And myne be the maladyes colde,
1610	The derke tresons, and the castes olde;
	My lookyng is the fader of pestilence.
	Now weep namoore, I shal doon diligence
	That Palamon, that is thyn owene knyght,
	Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight.
1615	Though Mars shal helpe his knyght, yet nathelees
	Bitwixe yow ther moot be somtyme pees,
	Al be ye noght of o compleccioun-
	That causeth al day swich divisioun.
	I am thyn aiel, redy at thy wille,
1620	Weep now namoore, I wol thy lust fulfille."

	Now wol I stynten of the goddes above,
	Of Mars and of Venus, goddesse of Love,
	And telle yow, as pleynly as I kan,
	The grete effect for which that I bygan.