Therewith the fire of jealousy upstart Within his breast, and hent* him by the heart *seized So woodly*, that he like was to behold *madly The box-tree, or the ashes dead and cold. Then said; “O cruel goddess, that govern This world with binding of your word etern* *eternal And writen in the table of adamant Your parlement* and your eternal grant, *consultation What is mankind more *unto you y-hold* *by you esteemed Than is the sheep, that rouketh* in the fold! *lie huddled together For slain is man, right as another beast; And dwelleth eke in prison and arrest, And hath sickness, and great adversity, And oftentimes guilteless, pardie* *by God What governance is in your prescience, That guilteless tormenteth innocence? And yet increaseth this all my penance, That man is bounden to his observance For Godde’s sake to *letten of his will*, *restrain his desire* Whereas a beast may all his lust fulfil. And when a beast is dead, he hath no pain; But man after his death must weep and plain, Though in this worlde he have care and woe: Withoute doubt it maye standen so. “The answer of this leave I to divines, But well I wot, that in this world great pine* is; *pain, trouble Alas! I see a serpent or a thief That many a true man hath done mischief, Go at his large, and where him list may turn. But I must be in prison through Saturn, And eke through Juno, jealous and eke wood*, *mad That hath well nigh destroyed all the blood Of Thebes, with his waste walles wide. And Venus slay’th me on that other side For jealousy, and fear of him, Arcite.” Now will I stent* of Palamon a lite**, *pause **little And let him in his prison stille dwell, And of Arcita forth I will you tell. The summer passeth, and the nightes long Increase double-wise the paines strong Both of the lover and the prisonere. I n’ot* which hath the wofuller mistere**. *know not **condition For, shortly for to say, this Palamon Perpetually is damned to prison, In chaines and in fetters to be dead; And Arcite is exiled *on his head* *on peril of his head* For evermore as out of that country, Nor never more he shall his lady see. You lovers ask I now this question,<18> Who lieth the worse, Arcite or Palamon? The one may see his lady day by day, But in prison he dwelle must alway. The other where him list may ride or go, But see his lady shall he never mo’. Now deem all as you liste, ye that can, For I will tell you forth as I began.