Page:The Canterbury tales of Geoffrey Chaucer.djvu/56

 now I am so miserable and so enthralled that I serve poorly, as his squire, him that is my mortal enemy. And Juno doth me yet more ignominy, for I dare not avow mine own name, but I that was wont to be called Arcite now am called Philostrate, not worth a farthing. Alas, thou fell Mars! Alas, Juno! thus hath your ire all fordone our kindred save me only and wretched Palamon, that Theseus martyreth in fetters. And above all this, and utterly to slay me, Love hath stuck his fiery dart so burningly through my heart that my death was shapen for me before my swaddling bands. Ye slay me with your eyes, Emily, ye be the cause of my dying. Of all the remnant I set not the amount of a tare, so that I could do aught to your pleasure." And with that word he fell down a long time in a trance.

This Palamon, that thought he felt a cold sword glide suddenly through his heart, quaked for ire when he had heard Arcite's tale, and no longer would he abide, but with face dead and pale started up out of the thick bushes as he were mad, and said: "Arcite, false wicked traitor, now art thou caught that so lovest my lady for whom I have all this pain, and art of my blood and sworn to my counsel, as I have told thee full oft; and thou hast here cozened Duke Theseus and falsely changed thy name. I will be dead, or else thou. Thou shalt not love my lady Emily, but I will love her only, for I am Palamon and thy mortal foe. And though in this place I have no weapon, but am escaped out of prison only by good chance, either thou shalt die, I doubt not, or thou shalt not love Emily. Choose which thou wilt,—thou shalt not escape."

This Arcite, with full pitiless heart, when he knew him and had heard his tale, as fierce as a lion pulled out his sword, and said: "By God that sitteth on high, wert thou not sick and mad