ow a herald proclaimed from a scaffold the will of Duke Theseus, decreeing
the weapons with which the tourney should be fought, and the rules of the
combat. Then with trumpets and music, Theseus and Hippolyta and Emilia in a
noble procession took their places; and from the west gate under the temple
of Mars came Arcite with a red banner, and from the east, under the temple
of Venus, Palamon with a white banner. And the names of the two companies
were recited, the heralds left pricking up and down, the trumpet and
clarion sounded, and the just began. Sore was the fight, and many were
wounded and by the duke's proclamation removed from the fight; and many a
time fought Palamon and Arcite together. But everything must have an end;
Emetreus gave Palamon a wound; and though Ligurge attempted his rescue, he
was borne down; and though Emetreus was thrust from his saddle by Palamon,
Palamon was wounded, and had to give up the combat and the hope of winning
Emilia. And Theseus cried to them that the tourney was finished, and that
Arcite should have the lady; whereat the rejoicing of the people was loud.

But in heaven Venus wept, so that her tears fell down into the lists; yet
Saturn promised that her sorrow should be eased soon.

And in truth as Arcite rode in triumph down the lists, looking up at
Emilia, Pluto, at the bidding of Saturn, sent from hell a fury, that
started from the ground in front of Arcite's horse, which shied and threw
his rider; and Arcite pitched on his head, and lay as though dead. They
bore him to Theseus' palace, cut his harness from off him, and laid him in
a bed.

Theseus for three days entertained the knights of the tourney, and then all
of them went their several ways. But Arcite lay dying; no longer had Nature
any power;

"And certeinly, ther nature wol nat wirche,
Far-wel, phisyk! go ber the man to chirche!"

On his deathbed he called Palamon and Emilia to his side, and bade farewell
to his heart's queen, commending Palamon to her,

"As in this world right now ne knowe I non
So worthy to ben loved as Palamon
That serveth yow, and wol don al his lyf.
And if that ever ye shul ben a wyf,
Forget nat Palamon, the gentil man."

And his speech failed him, and his strength went out of him: but he still
kept his eyes fixed on his lady, and his last word was "Mercy, Emilye!"

Theseus gave Arcite a costly funeral, and built his funeral pyre in the
grove where Palamon had heard him lamen