168 THE KtflGHTES TALE.
For which anon Duk Theseus leet crie, To stynten alle rancour and envye, The gree as wel of o syde as of other, And either side ylik as otheres brother; Andjyaf hemj/iftes after here degre, And fully heeld a feste dayes thre; And conveyede the kynges worthily Out of his toun a journee largely. And hom wente every man the righte way. There was no more, but ' Farwel, have good day !' Of this battaylle I wol no more endite, But speke of Palamon and of Arcyte.
Swelleth the brest of Arcyte, and the sore Encresceth at his herte more and more. The clothred blood, for eny leche-craft, Corrumpeth, and is in his bouk i-laft, That nother veyne blood, ne ventusynge, Ne drinke of herbes may ben his helpynge. The vertu expulsif, or animal, Fro thilke vertu cleped natural, Ne may the venym voyde, ne expelle. The pypes of his longes gonne to swelle, And every lacerte in his brest adoun Is schent with venym and corrupcioun. Him gayneth nother. for to gete his lyf, Vomyt upward, ne dounward laxatif -3 Al is to-brosten thilke regioun, Nature hath now no dominacioun. And certeynly ther nature wil not wirche, Farwel phisik; go ber the man to chirche. This al and som, that Arcyta moot dye, For which he sendeth after Emelye, And Palamon, that was his cosyn deere. Than seyde he thus, as yt schul after heere.
4 Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte Declare o poynt of alle my sorvves smerte To you, my lady, that I love most;