How Creon was of Thefeus yferved,
As he that hath his deth ful wel deferved.
And right anon, withouten more abode,
His banner he difplaide, and forth he rode
To Thebes ward, and all his hoft befide:
No ner Athenes n'olde he go ne ride,
Ne take his efe fully half a day,

But onward on his way that night he lay,
And fent anon Ipolita the quene,
And Emelie hire younge fifter fhene,
Unto the toun of Athenes for to dwell;
And forth he rit; ther n'is no more to tell.

The red ftatue of Mars, with fpere and targe,
So fhineth in his white banner large,
That all the feldes gliteren up and doun;
And by his banner berne is his penon

Of gold ful riche, in which that ther was ybete
The Minotaure which that he flew in Crete,
Thus rit this duk, thus rit this conquerour,
And in his hoft of chevalrie the flour,
Til that he came to Thebes, and alight
Fayre in a feld, her as he thought to fight,
But fhortly for to fpeken of this thing,
With Creon, which that was of Thebes king
He fought, and flew him manly as a knight
In plaine bataille, and put his folk to flight;
And by affaut he wan the citee after,
And rent adoun bothe wall, and sparre, and rafter;
And to the ladies he restored again

'The bodies of hir houfbondes that were flain,
To don the obfequies, as was tho the gife.
But it were all to long for to devise
'The grete clamour and the waimenting
Whiche that the ladies made at the brenning
Of the bodies, and the gret honour
That Thefeus, the noble conquerour,
Doth to the ladies whan they from him wente;
But fhortly for to telle is min entente.

Whan that this worthy duk, this Thefeus,
Hath Creon flain and wonnen Thebes thus,
Still in the feld he toke all night his refte;
And did with all the countree as him lefte;
To ranfake in the tas of bodies dede,
Hem for to ftripe of harneis and of wede,
The pillours dide hir befineffe and cure,
After the bataille and discomfiture;
And fo befell that in the tas they found,
Thurgh girt with many a grevous blody wound,
'Two yonge knightes ligging by and by,
Bothe in on armes wrought ful richely;
Of whiche two Arcita highte that on,
And he that other highte Palamon.
Not fully quik ne fully ded they were,
But by hir cote armure and by hir gere
The heraudes knew him wel in fpecial
As tho that weren of the bled real
Of Thebes and of fuftren two yborne.
Out of the tas the pillours han hem torne,
And han hem carried foft unto the tente
Of Thefeus, and he ful fone hem fente
To Athenes, for to dwellen in prifon
Perpetuel, he n'olde no raunfon.
And whan this worthy duk had thus ydon,
He toke his hoft, and home be rit anon,

With laurel crouned as a conquerour,
And ther he liveth in joye and in honour
Terme of his lif; what nedeth wordes mo?
And in a tour in anguish and in wo
Dwellen this Palamon and eke Arcite
For evermo, ther may no gold hem quite.
Thus paffeth yere by yere, and day by day,
Till it fell ones in a morwe of May
That Emelie, that fayrer was to fene
Than is the lilie upon his ftälke grene,
And fresfher than the May with floures new,
(For with the rofe colour strof hire hewe;
I n'ot which was the finer of hem two)
Er it was day, as fhe was wont to do,
She was arifen, and all redy dight,
For May wol have no flogardie a night;
The fefon priketh every gentil herte,
And maketh him out of his flepe to fterte,
And fayth, Arife, and do thin obfervance.

།

This maketh Emelie han remembrance To don honour to May, and for to rife; Yclothed was the fresfhe for to devise, Hire yelwe here was broided in a treffe Behind hire back, a yerde long I geffe; And in the gardin at the fonne uprift She walketh up and doun wher as hire lift; She gathereth floures, partie white and red, To make a fotel gerlond for hire hed And as an angel hevenlich fhe fong, The grete tour that was fo thikke and strong, Which of the caftel was the chef dongeon, (Wher as these knightes weren in prifon, Of which I tolde you, and tellen fhal) Was even joinant to the gardin wall, Ther as this Emelie had hire playing.

[ing

Bright was the fonne and clere that morwen

And Palamon, this woful prifoner,

As was his wone, by leve of his gayler

Was rifen, and romed in a chambre on high,

In which he all the noble citce figh,
And eke the gardin, ful of branches grene,
Ther as this fresfhe Emelia the fhene
Was in hire walk, and romed up and doun,

This forweful prifoner, this Palamon,
Goth in his chambre roming to and fro,
And to himselfe complaining of his wo:
That he was borne ful oft he fayd Alas!
And fo befell, by aventure or cas,
That thurgh a window thikke of many a barre
Of yren gret, and fquare as any sparre,
He caft his cyen upon Emelia,

And therwithal he blent and cried A!
As though he ftongen were unto the herte;
And with that crie Arcite anon up fterte,
And faide, Cofin min, what eyleth thee
That art fo pale and dedly for to fee?
Why crideft thou? who hath thee don offence?
For Goddes love take all in patience

This word has various fenfes in Chaucer, as it is derived from blinnan, ceare; blindan, cæcare; or blendan, mifcere. It feems here to be used in a fourth fenfe, the fame in which Shakespeare ufes the verb to blench, i. 2. to fhrink or flart afide. Johnson's Di&. in y, Blench. See Glaf. in v. Blent, part, of Blencb,

Our prifon, for it may non other be;
Fortune hath yeven us this adverfite:
Som wikke afpect or difpofition
Of Saturne, by fom conftellation,

Hath yeven us this, although we had it fworn:
So ftood the heven whan that we were born:
We mofte endure; this is the fhort and plain.
This Palamon answerde, and fayde again,
Cofin, forfoth of this opinion
Thou haft a vaine imagination:
This prifon caufed me not for to crie,
But I was hurt right now thurghout min eye
Into min herte, that wol my bane be:
The fayrneffe of a lady that I fe
Yond in the gardin roming to and fro
Is caufe of all my crying and my wo:
I n'ot whe'r fhe be woman or goddeffe,
But Venus is it fothly as I geffe.

And therwithall on knees adoun he fill,
And fayde; Venus, if it be your will
You in this gardin thus to transfigure,
Beforn me forweful wretched creature,
Out of this prifon helpe that we may scape;
And if fo be our deftine be shape
By eterne word to dien in prifon,
Of our lignage have fome compaffion,
That is fo low ybrought by tyrannie.
And with that word Arcita gan espie
Wher as this lady romed to and fro,
And with that fight hire beaute hurt him so,
That if that Palamon were wounded fore
Arcite is hurt as moche as he or more:
And with a figh he fayde pitoufly,
The freshe beaute fleth me fodenly
Of hire that rometh in the yonder place;
And but I have hire mercie and hire grace,
That I may feen hire at the lefte way,
I n'am but ded; ther n'is no more to say.

This Palamor, whan he thefe wordes herd, Difpitously he loked, and answerd, Whether fayeft thou this in ernest or in play?

Nay, quod Arcite, in ernest by my fay;
God helpe me fo, me luft full yvel play.

This Palamon gan knit his browes twey.
It were, quod he, to thee no gret honour
For to be falfe, ne for to be traytour
To me, that am thy cofin and thy brother
Yfworne ful depe, and eche of us to other,
That never for to dien in the peine
Til that the deth departen fhal us tweine,
Neyther of us in love to hindre other,
Ne in non other cas, my leve brother;
But that thou fhuldeft trewely forther me
In every cas as I fhuld forther thee.
This was thin oth, and min also certain;
I wot it wel thou darft it not withfain:
Thus art thou of my confeil out of doute,
And now thou woldeft falfly ben aboute
To love my lady whom I love and serve,
And ever fhal til that min herte sterve.

Now certes, falfe Arcite, thou shalt not fo;
I loved hire firfte, and tolde thee my wo.
As to my confeil, and my brother fworne
To forther me as I have told beforne,

For which thou art ybounden as a knight
To helpen me, if it lie in thy might,
Or elles art thou falfe I dare wel fain.

This Arcita full proudly fpake again,
Thou fhalt, quod he, be rather false than I,
And thou art falfe, I tell thee utterly;
For par amour I loved hire first or thou.
What wolt thou sayn? thou wistest nat right now
Whether the were a woman or a goddeffe:
Thin is affection of holineffe,

And min is love as to a creature,
For which I tolde thee min aventure,
As to my cofin and my brother fworne.

I pofe that thou lovedeft hire beforne :
Woft thou not wel the olde clerkes fawet,
That who shall give a lover any lawe?
Love is a greter lawe by my pan
Then may be yeven of any erthly man;
And therfore positif lawe and swiche decree
Is broken all day for love in eche degree.
A man mofte nedes love maugre his hed;
He may not fleen it though he fhuld be ded,
All be the maid, or widewe, or elles wif.

And eke it is not likely all thy lif
To ftonden in hire grace, no more shal I;
For wel thou woft thy felven veraily
That thou and I be damned to prifon
Perpetuel; us gaineth no raunfon.

We strive as did the houndes for the bone,
They fought all day, and yet hir part was none :
Ther came a kyte, while that they were fo wrothe
And bare away the bone betwix hem bothe.
And therfore at the kinges court, my brother,
Eche man for himself, ther is non other.
Love if thee luft, for I love, and ay shal;
And fothly, leve brother, this is al.
Here in this prifon moften we endure,
And everich of us take his aventure.

Gret was the ftrif, and long betwix him tw
If that I hadde leifer for to fey:
But to th' effect. It happed on a day,
(To tell it you as fhortly as I may)
A worthy duk that highte Perithous,
That felaw was to this duk Thefeus
Sin thilke day that they were children lite,
Was come to Athenes his felaw to visite,
And for to play as he was wont to do,
For in this world he loved no man fo,
And he loved him as tendrely again:
So wel they loved, as olde bokes fain,
That whan that on was dede, fothly to tell,
His felaw wente and fought him doun in hell
But of that ftopic lift me not to write.
Duk Perithous loved wel Arcite,
And had him knowe at Thebes yere by yere :
And finally, at request and praiere
Of Perithous, withouten any raunfon,
Duk Thefeus him let out of prison,

The olde clerk is Boethius, from whose book De Confolatione, Chaucer has borrowed largely in many places. The paffage alluded to is in 1. ii. met. 12.

Quis legem det amantibus? Major lex amor eft fibi

Frely to gon wher that him lift over all,
In fwiche a gife as I you tellen fhall.

This was the forword, plainly for to endite,
Betwixen Thefeus and him Arcite;
That if fo were that Arcite were yfound
Ever in his lif, by day or night, o stound
In any countree of this Thefeus,

And he were caught, it was accorded thus,
That with a fwerd he shulde lefe his hed;
Ther was non other remedie ne rede;
But taketh his leve, and homeward he him fpedde:
Let him beware, his nekke lieth to wedde.

How gret a forwe fuffereth now Arcite?
The deth he feleth thurgh his herte smite;
He wepeth, waileth, crieth pitously,
To fleen himself he waiteth prively.
He said, Alas the day that I was borne!
Now is my prifon werfe than beforne;
Now is me fhape eternally to dwelle
Not only in purgatorie but in helle.
Alas! that ever I knew Perithous,
For elles had I dwelt with Thefeus,
Yfetered in his prifon evermo;
Than had I ben in bliffe and not in wo:
Only the fight of hire whom that I serve,
Though that I never hire grace may deserve,
Wold have fufficed right ynough for me.

O dere cofin Palamon, quod he,
Thin is the victorie of this aventure;
Ful blisful in prison maieft thou endure:
In prifon? certes nay, but in paradise.
Wel hath Fortune yturned thee the dife,
That haft the fight of hire and I th' abfence.
For poffible is, fin thou haft hire prefence,
And art a knight, a worthy and an able,
That by fome cas, fin Fortune is changeable,
Thou maieft to thy defir fomtime atteine:
But that I am exiled, and barreine
Of alle grace, and in fo gret despaire,
That ther n'is erthe, water, fire, ne aire,
Ne creature, that of hem maked is,
That may me hele or don comfort in this,
Wel ought I fterve in wanhope and diftreffe.
Farewel my lif, my luft, and my gladnesse.

Alas! why plainen men fo in commune
Of purveiance of God or of Fortune,
That yeveth hem ful oft in many a gife
Wel better than they can hemfelf devife?
Som man defireth for to have richesse,
That cause is of his murdre or gret fiknesse;
And fom man wold out of his prison fayn,
That in his houfe is of his meynie flain.
Infinite harmes ben in this matere:
We wote not what thing that we praien here.
We faren as he that dronke is as a mous:
A dronken man wot wel he hath an hous,
But he ne wot which is the right way thider,
And to a dronken man the way is flider,
And certes in this world fo faren we.
We seken faft after felicite,
But we go wrong ful often trewely.
Thus we may fayen alle, and namely I,
That wende, and had a gret opinion,
That if I might efcapen fro prifon

Than I had ben in joye and parfite hele,
Ther now I am exiled fro my wele.
Sin that I may not feen you Emelie
I n'am but ded; ther n'is no remedie.
Upon that other fide Palamon,

Whan that he wift Arcita was agon,
Swiche forwe he maketh, that the grete tour
Refouned of his yelling and clamour.
The pure fetters on his fhinnes grete
Were of his bitter falte teres wete.

Alas! quod he, Arcita, cofin min,
Of all our ftrif, God wot, the frute is thin.
Thou walkest now in Thebes at thy large,
And of my wo thou yevest litel charge.
Thou maist, fith thou hast wisdom and manhede,
Affemblen all the folk of our kinrede,
And make a werre fo fharpe on this contree,
That by fom aventure or fom tretee
Thou maist have hire to lady and to wif
For whom that I muft nedes lefe my lif
For as by way of poffibilítce,

Sith thou art at thy large of prison free,
And art a lord, gret is thin avantage,
More than is min, that fterve here in a cage:
For I may wepe and waile while that I live,
With all the wo that prifon may me yeve,
And eke with peine that love me yeveth also,
That doubleth all my tourment and my wo,

Therwith the fire of jaloufie up fterte
Within his breft, and hent him by the herte
So woodly, that he like was to behold
The box-tree, or the afhen ded and cold.
Then faid he; O cruel Goddes! that governe
This world with binding of your word eterne,
And writen in the table of athamant
Your parlement and your eterne grant,
What is mankind more unto yhold
Than is the shepe that rouketh in the fold?
For flain is man right as another beeft,
And dwelleth eke in prifon and arreft,
And hath fikneffe and gret adversite,
And often times gilteles parde.

What governance is in this prefcience That giltelefs turmenteth innocence? And yet encrefeth this all my penance, That man is bounden to his obfervance For Goddes fake to leten of his will, Ther as a beeft may all his luft fulfill. And when a beeft is ded he hath no peine; But man after his deth mote wepe and pleine, Though in this world he have care and wo: Withouten doute it maye ftonden fo.

The answer of this lete I to divines,
But wel I wote that in this world gret pine is.
Alas! I fee a ferpent or a thefe,

That many a trewe man hath do mefchefe,
Gon at his large, and wher him luft may turn
But I mofte ben in prison thurgh Saturn,
And eke thurgh Juno, jalous and eke wood
That hath wel neye deftruied all the blood
Of Thebes, with his wafte walls wide.
And Venus fleeth me on that other fide
For jaloufie, and fere of him Arcite

Now wol I Rent of Palamon a lite,

And leten him in his prifon still dwelle,
And of Arcita forth I wol you telle.

The former paffeth, and the nightes long
Encrefen double wife the peines strong
Both of the lover and of the prifoner;
I n'ot which hath the wofuller mistere
For fhortly for to fay, this Palamon
Perpetuelly is damned to prifon,

In chaines and in fetters to ben ded
And Arcite is exiled on his hed
For evermore as out of that contree,
Ne never more he fhal his lady fee.

You lovers axe I now this question,
Who hath the werfe, Arcite or Palamon?
That on my se his lady day by day,
But in prifon mofte he dwellen alway:
That other wher him last may ride or go,
But fen his lady fhal he never mo.
Now demeth as you lifte, ye that can,
For I wil tell you forth as 1 began.

When that Arcite to Thebes comen was,
Ful oft a day he fwelt and said Alas!
For fen his lady fhal he never mo.
And fhortly to concluden all his wo,
So mochel forwe hadde never creature
That is or fhal be while the world may dure.
His flepe, his mete, his drinke, is him byraft,
That lene he wex, and drie as is a fhaft.
His eyen holwe, and grifly to behold,
His hewe falwe, and pale as afhen cold,
And folitary he was, and ever alone,

And wailing all the night, making his mone:
And if he herde fong or inftrument,
Than would he wepe, he mightę not be stent.
So feble were his fpirites, and fo low,
And changed fo, that no man coude know
His fpeche ne his vois, though men it herd.
And in his gere, for all the world he ferd
Nought only like the lovers maladie,
Of Ereos, but rather ylike manie,
Engendred of humours melancolike,
Beforne his hed in his celle fantastike.
And shortly turned was all up fo doun
Both habit and eke difpofitioun
Of him, this woful lover Dan Arcite,
What shuld I all day of his wo endite ?

Whan he endured had a yere or two
This cruel torment, and this peine and wo,
At Thebes, in his contree, as I faid,
Upon a night in slepe as he him laid,
Him thought how that the winged god Mercury
Beforne him ftood, and bad him to be mery.
His flepy yerde in hond he bare upright;
An hat he wered upon his heres bright:
Arraied was this god (as he toke kepe)
As he was whan that Argus toke his flepe,
And faid him thus; To Athenes fhalt thou wende;
Ther is thee fhapen of thy wo an ende.

And with that word Arcite awoke and ftert.
Now trewely how fore that ever me fmert.
Quod he, to Athenes right now wol I fare;
Ne for no drede of deth fhall I not spare
To fe my lady, that I love and ferve;
In hire prefence I rekke not to serva

And with that word he caught a gret mirrður,
And saw that changed was all his colour,
And faw his vifage all in another kind:
And right anon it ran him in his mind,
That fith his face was fo disfigured
Of maladie the which he had endured,
He mighte wel, if that he bare him lowe,
Live in Athenes evermore unknowe,
And fen his lady wel nigh day by day.
And right anon he changed his aray,
And clad him as a poure labourer.
And all alone, fave only a fquier,
That knew his privite and all his cas,
Which was difguifed pourely as he was,
To Athenes is he gone the nexte way.
And to the court he went upon a day,
And at the gate he proffered his fervice,
To drugge and draw what fo men wold devife.
And fhortly of this matere for to sayn;
He fell in office with a chamberlain,
The which that dwelling was with Emelie,
For he was wife, and coude fone efpie
Of every fervent which that ferved hire:
Wel coude he hewen wood, and water bere,
For he was yonge and mighty for the nones,
And therto he was ftrong and big of bones
To don that any wight can him devise.

A yere or two he was in this fervice,
Page of the chambre of Emelie the bright,
And Philostrate he fayde that he hight.
But half fo wel beloved a man as he
Ne was ther never in court of his degre.
He was fo gentil of conditioun,

That thurghout all the court was his renoun.
They fayden that it were a charite
That Thefeus wold enhaunfe his degre,
And putten him in worshipful fervice,
Ther as he might his vertues exercise.
And thus within a while his name is fpronge
Both of his dedes and of his good tonge,
That Thefeus had taken him fo ner
That of his chambre he made him a fquier,
And gave him gold to mainteine his degre;
And eke men brought him out of his contre
Fro yere to yere ful prively his rent;
But honestly and fleighly he it fpent,
That no man wondred how that he it hadde.
And thre yere in this wife his lif he ladde,
And bare him fo in pees and eke in werre
Ther n'as no man that Thefeus hath derre.
And in this bliffe let I now Arcite,
And speke I wol of Palamon a lite.

In derkeneffe and horrible and strong prifon
This seven yere hath fitten Palamon,
Forpined, what for love and for diftreffe.
Who feleth double forwe and hevinesse
But Palamon? that love diftraineth so,
That wood out of his wit he goth for wo
And eke therto he is a prisonere
Perpetuell, not only for a yere.

Who coude time in English proprely
His martirdom? forfoth it am not I,
Therfore I paffe as lightly as I may.
It fell that in the feventh yere, in May

The thridde night, (as olde bokes fayn,
That all this ftorie tellen more plain)
Were it by aventure or deftinee,
(As when a thing is fhapen it fhal be)
That fone after the midnight Palamon,
By helping of a frend, brake his prison,
And fleeth the cite fafte as he may go,
For he had yeven drinke his gayler fo,
Of a clarre made of a certain wine,

With narcotikes and opie of Thebes fine, [fhake,
That all the night though that men wold him
The gailer flept, he mighte not awake:
And thus he fleeth as fafte as ever he may.

The night was short, and faste by the day,
That nedes coft he mofte himselven hide;
And to a grove faste ther befide
With dredful foot than stalketh Palamon:
For fhortly this was his opinion,

That in that grove he wold him hide all day,
And in the night than wold he take his way
To Thebes ward, his frendes for to prcie
On Thefeus to helpen him werreie:
And shortly, eyther he wold lefe his lif
Or winnen Emelie unto his wif
This is the effect, and his entente plein.

Now wol I turnen to Arcite agein,
That litel wift how neighe was his care,
Till that Fortune had brought him in the fnare.
The befy larke, the meffager of day,
Salewith in hire fong the morwe gra y
And firy Phebus rifeth up fo bright,
That all the orient laugheth of the fight,
And with his ftremes drieth in the greves
The filver dropes hanging on the leves.
And Arcite, that is in the court real
With Thefeus the fquier principal,
Is rifen, and loketh on the mery day;
And for to don his obfervance to May,
Remembring on the point of his defire,
He on his courfer, fterting as the fire,
Is ridden to the feldes him to pley,
Out of the court, were it a mile or twey;
And to the grove of which that I you told
By aventure his way he gan. to hold,
To maken him a gerlond of the greves,
Were it of woodbind or of hauthorn leves,
And loud he fong agen the fonne shene.

Maye, with all thy flours and thy grene,
Right welcome be thou faire freshe May,
I hope that I fome grene here getten may.
And from his courfer with a lufty herte
Into the grove ful haftily he fterte,
And in a path he romed up and doun,
Ther as by aventure this Palamon
Was in a bufh, that no man might him fe,
For fore afered of his deth was he.
Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite :
God wot he wold have trowed it ful lite.
But foth is faid, gon fithen are many yeres,
That feld hath eyen, and the wood hath eres,
It is ful faire a man to bere him even
For al day meten men at unfet steven.
Ful litel wote Arcite of his felaw,
That was fo neigh to herken of his faw,

For in the bush he fitteth now ful ftill.
Whan that Arcite had romed all his fill
And fongen all the roundel luftily,
Into a studie he fell fodenly,

As don thefe lovers in hir queinte geres,
Now in the crop, and now down in the breres.
Now up, now doun, as boket in a well.
Right as the Friday, fothly for to tell,
Now fhineth it, and now it raineth faft;
Right fo can gery Venus overcaft
The hertes of hire folk, right as hire day
Is gerfull, right fo changeth fhe aray.
Selde is the Friday all the weke ylike.

Whan Arcite hadde yfonge, he gan to fike,
And fet him doun withouten any more;
Alas! (quod he) the day that I was bore!
How longe, Juno, thurgh thy crueltee
Wilt thou werreien Thebes the citee?
Alas! ybrought is to confufion

The blood real of Cadme and Amphion:
Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man
That Thebes built, or firfte the toun began,
And of the citee firfte was crouned king,
Of his linage am I, and his ofspring
By veray line, as of the ftok real;
And now I am fo caitif and fo thral,
That he that is my mortal enemy
I ferve him as his fquier pourely.
And yet doth Juno me wel more shame,
For I dare not beknowe min owen name,
But ther as I was wont to highte Arcite,
Now highte I Ahiloftrat not worth a mite,
Alas! thou fell Mars, alas! thou Juno,
Thus hath your ire our linage all fordo,
Save only me and wretched Palamon,
That Thefeus martireth in prison.
And over all this, to flen me utterly,
Love hath his firy dart fo brenningly
Yitiked thurgh my trewe careful hert,
That shapen was my deth erft than my fhert.
Ye flen me with your eyen Emelie;
Ye ben the caufe wherfore that I die.
Of all the remenant of min other care
Ne fet I not the mountance of a tare,
So that I coud don ought to your pleance.

And with that word he fell doun in a trance
A longe time, and afterward up fterte.
This Palamon, that thought thurghout his herte
He felt a colde fwerd fodenly glide;
For ire he quoke, no lenger wolde he hide :
And whan that he had herd Arcites tale,
As he were wood, with face ded and pale,
He fterte him up out of the bushes thikke
And fayde; Falfe Arcite, falfe traitour wicke,
Now art thou hent, that loveft my lady fo,
For whom that I have all this peine and wo
And art my blood, and to my confeil fworn,
As I ful oft have told thee herebeforn,
And haft beiaped here Duk Thefeus,
And falfely changed haft thy name thus;
I wol be ded, or clles thou shalt die :
Thou fhalt not love my lady Emelie,
But I wol love hire only and no mo,
For I am Palamon thy portal fe.