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To ransake in the taas of bodyes dede, |
| Hem for to strepe of harneys and of wede, |
| The pilours diden bisynesse and cure, |
| 150 | After the bataille and disconfiture; |
| And so bifel, that in the taas they founde |
| Thurgh-girt with many a grevous blody wounde, |
| Two yonge knyghtes liggynge by and by, |
| Bothe in oon armes, wroght ful richely, |
| 155 | Of whiche two Arcita highte that oon, |
| And that oother knyght highte Palamon. |
| Nat fully quyke, ne fully dede they were, |
| But by here cote-armures and by hir gere, |
| The heraudes knewe hem best in special |
| 160 | As they that weren of the blood roial |
| Of Thebes, and of sustren two yborn. |
| Out of the taas the pilours han hem torn, |
| And had hem caried softe unto the tente |
| Of Theseus, and he ful soone hem sente |
| 165 | To Atthenes to dwellen in prisoun |
| Perpetuelly, he nolde no raunsoun. |
| And whan this worthy duc hath thus ydon, |
| He took his hoost, and hoom he rit anon, |
| With laurer crowned, as a conquerour; |
| 170 | And ther he lyveth in joye and in honour |
| Terme of his lyve; what nedeth wordes mo? |
| And in a tour, in angwissh and in wo, |
| Dwellen this Palamon and eek Arcite |
| For evermoore, ther may no gold hem quite. |
|
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In searching through the heap of enemy dead, |
| Stripping them of their gear from heel to head, |
| The busy pillagers could pick and choose, |
| 150 | After the battle, what they best could use; |
| And it happened that in a heap they found, |
| Pierced through with many a grievous, bloody wound, |
| Two young knights lying together, side by side, |
| Bearing one crest, wrought richly, of their pride, |
| 155 | And of those two Arcita was the one, |
| The other knight was known as Palamon. |
| Not fully quick, nor fully dead they were, |
| But by their coats of arms and by their gear |
| The heralds readily could tell, withal, |
| 160 | That they were of the Theban blood royal, |
| And that they had been of two sisters born. |
| Out of the heap the spoilers had them torn |
| And carried gently over to the tent |
| Of Theseus; who shortly had them sent |
| 165 | To Athens, there in prison cell to lie |
| For ever, without ransom, till they die. |
| And when this worthy duke had all this done, |
| He gathered host and home he rode anon, |
| With laurel crowned again as conqueror; |
| 170 | There lived he in all joy and all honour |
| His term of life; what more need words express? |
| And in a tower, in anguish and distress, |
| Palamon and Arcita, day and night, |
| Dwelt whence no gold might help them to take flight. |
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