The prayer stint 697 of Arcita the strong, The ringës on the temple door that hong, And eke the doorës, clattered full fast, Of which Arcita somewhat was aghast. The firës burn’d upon the altar bright, That it gan all the temple for to light; A sweetë smell anon the ground up gaf, 698 And Arcita anon his hand up haf, 699 And more incénse into the fire he cast, With other ritës more and at the last The statue of Mars began his hauberk ring; And with that sound he heard a murmuring Full low and dim, that saidë thus, “Victóry.” For which he gave to Mars honour and glory. And thus with joy, and hopë well to fare, Arcite anon unto his inn doth fare. As fain 700 as fowl is of the brightë sun.