The Knight’s Tale – Lyrics
Read Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale
Scene 1
As history teaches us, it happened to be
That Theseus, the governor of Athens in Greece,
Attacked and besieged, with wisdom and honour,
The land of the Amazon women and conquered,
And wedded their Queen Ypolita; along with her
Young sister Emilye, (his plundered possessions),
Theseus met them with a humble reception
And let them come back with him, under protection
From hundreds of weapons, to Athens and kept them.
Upon his return to Greece, Theseus learned of these
Awful and shameful dishonoured injustices
Brought to the name of the monarch entrusted with
Keeping the city of Thebes. In the dust with his
Power obsolete in a coward’s defeat,
He now was deceased and cast out in the streets,
Where the hounds with their teeth would devour his meat.
His widow, the queen, in her hour of need,
Showered pleas on Theseus from down on her knees.
So he proudly agreed to put the town under siege,
And surrounded Thebes with all his men,
And pounded the city’s walls and when
Those towers were down-fallen, then
His troops to dust demolished them.
When the brawl was ended he finally obtained
And returned to the Thebian Queen for her pains,
The rest of her husband’s majestic remains.
Deep in the wreckage the people were left with,
Two knights were detected, of high blood suspected,
Since birth from the first had their paths intersected,
Though now were dejected, and it was expected
They would be dead soon from the head-wounds inflicted.
But Theseus ordered that they be protected
And sent them to Athens where they could be hidden,
And by his decision, the two knights were given
A prison to live in, though they were forbidden
To step from within ’til their ghosts had up-risen.
The names of these knights, in plain language:
Arcite and Palamon. Utterly thankless
That they were not hanged with the rest of the vanquished,
They were caged in a tower for ages to languish
And waste away hours and days with their anguish.
Years pass, ’til at last on a bright May morning,
Emilye rose, as dawn was just forming,
To walk in the garden, with flowers adorning
Her head as a tribute to spring, and her singing,
As soft as an angel’s, rose up and just happened
To waft in a window and cause a distraction,
And that’s when the passionate noise then up-rose
To where Palamon paced, giving voice to his woes.
“Woe, woe, woe is m…(he sees her) Whoah!”
Palamon, struck to the quick by this vision,
In his heart knew his lust to conflict his religion.
She looked like a goddess, and perhaps we’ll forgive him
If he thought she was Venus, and asked for deliverance
And he felt an up-surging of happiness in him
As hope was emerging that perhaps she would give him
A premature evacuation from prison.
Meanwhile Arcite had noticed the cracks in
His brother’s demeanor and focus and asked him:
“Why are you looking so hopeless, what’s happened?
What have you seen to provoke this reaction?”
Palamon sighed, “I’m choked with such passion
For her that I see down below, yet I’m trapped in
This prison, my station the lowest in Athens,
Until I escape, I’ll have no satisfaction.”
Palamon had gazed and paid the price,
And Arcite now bravely laid his eyes
Amazed upon the maiden guise
Of Emilye, and to his great surprise
She made him sigh and feel as sore
Inside as Palamon, and more.
Arcite fell to the stone and swore:
“This fresh beauty and peerless grace
Has rescued me; it clears away
The sorrow of this dreary place
If only she’d appear each day
I’d cheerfully stay here just to see her face”
Palamon’s answer was close to delirious:
“Be clear with this, brother, are you joking or serious?”
Choking on tears, his emotions were furious.
Arcite just sneered at this “I would never say
Anything as heavy-weight as this merely in clever play.”
Palamon’s felt his pleasure fade:
“Then you have betrayed me and openly broken
Your oath to me, plainly by both of us spoken
So faithfully, traded to pose as a token
Of total devotion, we must put that above
Any quarrel we have over matters of love
All we have is our blood, and that is a trust
Rather tough to just patch up after it’s cut.”
Arcite laughed as if touched, with a covered smirk:
“In other words, since you loved her first,
I’m supposed to pretend that it doesn’t hurt,
And I’m not even allowed to covet her,
Though I’m the one who suffers worst,
Why must I thirst while my brother flirts?
It’s enough to reverse one’s trusted word.”
Their hate and need were great indeed,
And made them seethe impatiently,
But destiny soon gave them leave
Of one another’s company,
Which had become unsavoury,
And shortly it would come to be
That Arcite was ungratefully
Released, ’cause Theseus was under siege
From a friend of Arcite’s of some degree
Who had come to speak and give humble pleas
That Arcite, despite what he’d done, should be freed
Theseus agreed, but made one decree:
That once released from his country,
If Arcite came within a hundred feet
Of Athens he’d soon be underneath
The axe and be beheaded violently,
So he returned to abide in Thebes.
Now try and see the irony.
Palamon remained in the tyrant’s keep
With shackled hands and ironed feet
And every day his eyes could peep
At Emilye, in all her vibrancy,
While Arcite was unconfined, yet he
Was not allowed inside the city
Of Athens, and if he tried to sneak
Or slyly creep by it’d be
Like a deadly game of hide and seek,
So Emilye was outside his reach,
But it’s up to you to decide which of these
Two knights’ bleak lives was the highest defeat.
Scene two
For two long years in the city of Thebes
Arcite remained weeping piteously,
Until he was finally ready to leave.
He looked in a mirror and in it he could see
That his face had been altered so hideously
From grief he looked sick with a deadly disease.
He was so different to see, he wasn’t turned away
When Arcite at last returned to stay
In Athens, and was fast to learn the ways
Of breaking his back for a servant’s wage
Making him act like an earnest page
And gradually he earn the praise
Of everyone concerned and made
Sure his plans were firmly laid,
For Emilye he yearned and prayed,
But never said a word, afraid.
Now, for seven long years, I aim to tell
How Palamon stayed chained in a cell;
This wretched prisoner remained to dwell
In darkness and felt the flames of hell,
Tortured and stretched, in pain, until
One fortunate night, he came to fill
His jailer’s drink up with strange little pills
So the guard became ill, (since the dope was made
From local opiates) and so he escaped.
He was sorely afraid, but slowly he made
His lonely way to a grove where he stayed
Unexposed in the shade and laid low for a day.
Arcite that morning made no delay,
And rode out from court so he could pay
Respects to the sport and frequent play
That people seek in May and came by chance
To aim his lance into those same high stands
Of trees, to complain on his hands and knees:
“I can’t believe I came from royalty,
And my family’s name will be destroyed in me!
Emilye’s to blame for spoiling me
And tempting me to shamefully toil and be
My enemy’s page and change my loyalty.”
Palamon’s blood nearly boiled as he
Crouched and listened joylessly
To this pointless speech. So annoyed was he
That he jumped up and uncoiled to speak:
“I hate to spoil the deceit you’ve created in court,
And interrupt the life you’ve betrayed me for,
But this is what I have been waiting for:
Waging war to decide who loves the lady more!”
Arcite bared the blade of his sword,
and gravely gave his brave retort:
“Has love so clouded your perception
That without any sort of weapon
You would dare come forth and step in
To this place to make war and threaten?”
But Arcite was bound by his high honour,
And valour abound, to provide armour
For his opponent, who chooses the best,
With clothes, and food at his request
And then rest for the night, as those were his dues
In the case of a feud and his right.
And Arcite well knew he could never refuse
On the truth of his oath as a knight.
Both awoke at first light, and the greetings refuted,
They helped one another to stand and get suited,
Like brothers and, swords distributed,
They fought ’til their guts were entangled
In knots, getting ruptured and mangled,
‘Til it got where they stood up to their ankles
In pools of their blood and they ought to’ve been thankful
That Theseus, hunting as he was accustomed,
Entered the grove and there came across them
With all of his women arranged in procession,
Ypolita and Emilye in his possession,
And seeing them, bravely he pulled out his weapon
And rode safely forth on his horse to arrest them:
“Throw down your swords, on pain of death
You both must now be slain unless
I find out who’s to blame for this mess
Now give me your names and confess!”
Palamon, with what remained of his breath
Did his best to be plain and explain his distress:
“I am Palamon, seeking your prison to flee.
And this is my brother and sworn enemy,
Arcite, concealing his identity.
Who swears he’s in love with the fair Emilye,
Who I love as well, so there’s no remedy,
As she tenderly watches your sword rending me;
Since we both deserve condemned to be,
Kill him first, and turn your sword then to me!”
With wisdom compassion and great sympathy
Theseus answered: “This makes sense to me.
And by your confession you must die instantly,”
But the women began to cry and weep.
As blood in front of their eyes did seep
From the brothers’ wounds both wide and deep,
They fell to pray beside his feet.
“Have Mercy, Lord, upon us all!”
The ladies whispered quietly.
And when he heard their pious pleas,
Theseus felt his pride appeased,
And forgave the knights their rivalry.
So wise was he that he thus decreed
They must be freed, which was agreed
By all to be a just deed.
Plus, the brothers’ lust to please,
Theseus generously accorded
That one of them would be awarded
Emilye, once they had sorted
Out the victor of this sordid
Conflict at the time afforded.
The duel was set for one year hence,
And each would bring for his defense
A hundred knights to guard against
His brother’s vengeance and dispense
With justice, then home they went,
And both, received with welcome, spent
The year in Thebes, though malcontent.
Scene 3
While the knights were gone away,
Theseus, to accommodate
Their combat, paid uncommon wages
To his most accomplished masons,
Who patiently went on to make
A theatre so strong and great,
With marble carvings on the gate,
That all who looked upon the place
Did so with an astonished face,
So much the structure shone with grace,
As did the Duke whose honoured state
Demanded that he dominate.
Now on the long awaited day
That they’d agreed upon in May,
Arcite and Palamon did make
Their somber way there to exonerate
Their honour, and confront their fate.
Early Palamon did wake that day,
And went to pray and pay respects at
The statue of Venus they’d erected,
Standing in a temple decked with
Likenesses of all the reckless
Souls whom love had misdirected.
Palamon’s prayer to Venus:
“Venus, I’ve come to ask if we
Might declare war on chastity.
My love is near capacity,
And Emilye just laughs at me.
Let me posses her passively,
Or let me die, disastrously.”
After these fervent words was he
Assured that she had heard his plea,
For currently he was unnerved to see
The statue of her stir to re-
Assure him he deserved to be
Unburdened, free of urgency,
And as her faithful servant he
Inferred from these occurrences he
Was meant to be the first to see
His Emilye no virgin be.
Palamon returned with glee,
So sure was he that worthy Venus
Had averted the emergency.
Emilye then went to see
Diane and prayed, and gave some words to
Try and save her maiden virtue.
Emilye’s prayer to Diana:
“Diane, you know that I am wild,
Nor do I wish to be defiled
By hand of man, nor got with child,
Therefore, I pray, be mild,
Don’t let my honour be beguiled.”
The altar fires burning, in plain English,
At her pious yearning were extinguished.
Emilye, unsinged, just stared with dread
As Diane reached out her hand and there she bled
Upon her servant’s weary head
The blood of virgins, cherry-red.
“Let it now be clearly said
You will soon see your marriage bed.”
In response to this rejection
Emilye asked a simple question:
“Then what’s the use of your protection,
If I fall prey to some erection?”
This was indeed a harsh defeat
For Emilye, both stark and bleak,
But rather let me start to speak
Of the brave-hearted Arcite,
Who laid himself so artfully
To pray for help at Mars’ feet.
Arcite’s prayer to Mars:
“Strong God, in this degree,
I know you know the mysteries
Of love and my sad history.
And now, for all my misery,
My love no pity gives to me,
Therefore if I am fit to be
Thy knight, grant me this victory.”
At this the statue ripped free
From its foundation viciously
And said: “Since you give to me
Such devotion, it’s agreed,
Soon I shall grant this to thee.”
Now the Gods, who must be honest,
Had, in their wisdom, justly promised
Arcite, (here perhaps the strongest)
Triumph in the fight, along with
Palamon (no doubt the fondest)
True love, as we see in sonnets.
I now shall tell you straight how on this
Day in May it was accomplished.
Theseus, who was provider
Of the venue, and presider
Over it, was seated higher,
Where his Queen by all was seen
With Emilye beside her.
Arcite, a worthy fighter,
Attacked his brother like a tiger,
And Palamon, alike a lion,
With equal fierceness did defy him.
The first, though not for lack of tryin’,
Could no fatal blow get by him.
But then, to Palamon’s poor luck,
Arcite’s knight behind him snuck,
And stuck a spear into his gut.
Though far from mortal was the cut,
It was enough, Arcite struck,
And Palamon, too hurt to duck,
Was knocked down, and dropped
In shock onto the rocky ground.
Not a sound, nor any talk,
Was found among the crowd,
‘Til Theseus declared aloud:
“Arcite is the victor proud,
And Emilye, as I avowed,
To thee shall now be well endowed.”
Arcite’s happiness exploded
In him, and he rose and showed it,
As above his foe he gloated,
Crowed and boasted and show-boated,
‘Til the Gods were overloaded
With his pride and so they smote it.
Arcite, with a blow demoted,
Fell onto his dome and broke it.
His sorrow overflowed there; dying,
He pronounced his woes where crying
Showed he’d go with no denying
That his soul was slowly rising.
And he left, while still professing
Love, with Palamon his blessing;
Requesting Emilye to be accepting
(Since he would in death be resting)
Of the next best thing.
Then back his broken head he laid
And gave his final spoken praise:
“Mercy, Emilye!”
The gentle maid then, in the ways
Of Athens, set the corpse ablaze,
And scorched away the source that makes
A mortal shape, and prayed his soul
It’s course through heaven’s portal take.
Hoping to at least dispel
The sorrow that in Greece did swell
The moment that Arcite fell,
Theseus released his will:
“Why should his wife and cousin grieve?
Arcite is gone, yet doesn’t he
Deserve to see his love in thee,
Alive, from up above in peace?
Thus Palamon and Emilye
Shall wed, if they my judgement heed.”
Since his wishes carried weight,
The two, with kisses, married straight,
And Palamon, though very late,
Did wear his bliss with a merry face,
‘Cause he could barely wait
To take away her cherry state.
And Emilye took care she made
A loving wife, and rarely gave
Advice and, looking fair, obeyed,
And nothing more is there to say
About this strange affair, good day.
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