From Geoffrey Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales", The Knight's Tale, lines 670-715

From The Canterbury Tales:
The Knight's Tale
lines 670-715: Arcita dreams aloud about Emily and angers Palamon, who responds furiously

670	Whan that Arcite hadde romed al his fille
	And songen al the roundel lustily,
	Into a studie he fil al sodeynly,
	As doon thise loveres in hir queynte geres,
	Now in the croppe, now doun in the breres,
675	Now up, now doun as boket in a welle.
	Right as the Friday, soothly for to telle,
	Now it shyneth, now it reyneth faste,
	Right so kan geery Venus overcaste
	The hertes of hir folk; right as hir day
680	Is gereful, right so chaungeth she array.
	Selde is the Friday al the wowke ylike.

670	Arcita, having roamed and roved his fill,
	And having sung his rondel, lustily,
	Into a study fell he, suddenly,
	As do these lovers in their strange desires,
	Now in the trees, now down among the briers,
675	Now up, now down, like bucket in a well.
	Even as on a Friday, truth to tell,
	The sun shines now, and now the rain comes fast,
	Even so can fickle Venus overcast
	The spirits of her people; as her day,
680	Is changeful, so she changes her array.
	Seldom is Friday quite like all the week.

	Whan that Arcite had songe, he gan to sike,
	And sette hym doun withouten any moore;
	"Allas," quod he, "that day that I was bore!
685	How longe, Juno, thurgh thy crueltee
	Woltow werreyen Thebes the Citee?
	Allas, ybroght is to confusioun
	The blood roial of Cadme and Amphioun, -
	Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man
690	That Thebes bulte, or first the toun bigan,
	And of the citee first was crouned kyng,
	Of his lynage am I, and his ofspryng,
	By verray ligne, as of the stok roial,
	And now I am so caytyf and so thral
695	That he that is my mortal enemy
	I serve hym as his squier povrely.
	And yet dooth Juno me wel moore shame,
	For I dar noght biknowe myn owene name,
	But theras I was wont to highte Arcite,
700	Now highte I Philostrate, noght worth a myte.
	Allas, thou felle Mars! allas, Juno!
	Thus hath youre ire oure lynage al fordo,
	Save oonly me, and wrecched Palamoun
	That Theseus martireth in prisoun.
705	And over al this, to sleen me outrely,
	Love hath his firy dart so brennyngly
	Ystiked thurgh my trewe careful herte,
	That shapen was my deeth erst than my sherte.
	Ye sleen me with youre eyen, Emelye!
710	Ye been the cause wherfore that I dye.
	Of al the remenant of myn oother care
	Ne sette I nat the montance of a tare,
	So that I koude doon aught to youre plesaunce."
	And with that word he fil doun in a traunce
715	A longe tyme, and after he upsterte.

	Arcita, having sung, began to speak,
	And sat him down, sighing like one forlorn.
	"Alas," said he, "the day that I was born!
685	How long, O Juno, of thy cruelty,
	Wilt thou wage bitter war on Thebes city?
	Alas! Confounded beyond all reason
	The blood of Cadmus and of Amphion;
	Of royal Cadmus, who was the first man
690	To build at Thebes, and first the town began,
	And first of all the city to be king;
	Of his lineage am I, and his offspring,
	By true descent, and of the stock royal:
	And now I'm such a wretched serving thrall,
695	That he who is my mortal enemy,
	I serve him as his squire, and all humbly.
	And even more does Juno give me shame,
	For I dare not acknowledge my own name;
	But whereas I was Arcita by right,
700	Now I'm Philostrates, not worth a mite.
	Alas, thou cruel Mars! Alas, Juno!
	Thus have your angers all our kin brought low,
	Except only me, and wretched Palamon,
	Whom Theseus martyrs yonder in prison.
705	And above all, to slay me utterly,
	Love has his fiery dart so burningly
	Struck through my faithful and care-laden heart,
	My death was patterned before my swaddling-shirt.
	You slay me with your two eyes, Emily;
710	You are the cause for which I now must die.
	For on the whole of all my other care
	I would not set the value of a tare,
	So I could do one thing to your pleasance!"
	And with that word he fell down in a trance
715	That lasted long; and then he did up-start.