And leap aside, and founder 782 as he leap: And ere that Arcite may take any keep, 783 He pight him on the pummel 784 of his head, That in the place he lay as he were dead, His breast to-bursten with his saddle-bow. As black he lay as any coal or crow, So was the blood y-run into his face. Anon he was y-borne out of the place With heartë sore, to Theseus’ palace. Then was he carven 785 out of his harnéss. And in a bed y-brought full fair and blive, 786 For he was yet in mem’ry and alive, And always crying after Emily.