891 of his goodë name. Then hath he done his friend, nor him, 892 no shame And gladder ought his friend be of his death, When with honoúr is yielded up his breath, Than when his name appalled is for age; 893 For all forgotten is his vassalage. 894 Then is it best, as for a worthy fame, To dien when a man is best of name. The contrary of all this is wilfulness. Why grudgë we, why have we heaviness, That good Arcite, of chivalry the flower, Departed is, with duty and honoúr, Out of this foulë prison of this life? Why grudgë here his cousin and his wife Of his welfare, that loved him so well? Can he them thank?⁠—nay, God wot, never a deal⁠— 895 That both his soul and eke themselves offend, 896