The cold of deth, that had him overnome; And yet moreover in his armes two The vital strength is lost and all ago; Only the intellect, withouten more, That dwelled in his herte sike and sore, Gan faillen whan the herte felt deth; Dusked his eyen two, and failled his breth: But on his ladie yet cast he his eye; His laste word was, Mercy, Emelie! His spirit changed hous, and wente ther As I cam never I cannot tellen wher; Therefore I stent, I am no divinistre; Of soules find I not in this registre: Ne me lust not the opinions to telle Of hem, though that they written wher they dwelle. Arcite is cold, ther Mars his soule gie. Now wol I speken forth of Emelie. Shright Emelie, and houleth Palamon, And Theseus his sister toke anon Swouning, and bare her from the corps away. What helpeth it to tarien forth the day, To tellen how she wepe both even and morwe? For in swiche cas wimmen have swiche sorwe, Whan that hir hosbonds ben fro hem ago, That for the more part they sorwen so, Or elles fallen in swiche maladie, That atte last certainly they die. Infinite ben the sorwes and the teres Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeres, In all the toun, for deth of this Theban; For him ther wepeth bothe child and man: So gret weping was ther non certain, Whan Hector was ybrought, all fresh yslain, To Troie: Alas! the pitee that was there; Cratching of chekes, rending eke of here. Why woldest thou be ded, thise women crie, And haddest gold ynough, and Emelie? No man might gladen this Duk Theseus, Saving his olde fader Egeus, That knew this worldes transmutation, As he had seen it chaungen up and doun, Joye after wo, and wo after gladnesse, And shewed him ensample and likenesse. Right as ther died never man, (quod he,) That he ne lived in erth in som degree, Right so ther lived never man, (he seyd,) In all this world, that somtime he ne deyd: This world n'is but a thurghfare, ful of wo, And we ben pilgrimes, passing to and fro: Deth is an end of every worldes sore And over all this yet said he mochel more, To this effect, ful wisely to enhort The peple, that they shuld hem recomfort. Duk Theseus, with all his besy cure, He casteth now, wher that the sepulture Of good Arcite may best ymaked be, And eke most honourable in his degree; And at the last he toke conclusion, That ther as first Arcite and Palamon Hadden for love the bataille hem betwene, That in that selve grove, sote and grene, Ther as he hadde his amorous desires, His complaint, and for love his hote fires; He wold make a fire, in which the office Of funeral he might all accomplise; And let anon commande to hack and hewe The okes old, and lay hem on a rew In culpons, wel arraied for to brenne.