The Knight’s Tale

haddest to Adon Have pity on my bitter tearës’ smart, And take mine humble prayer to thine heart. Alas! I havë no languáge to tell Th’ effectë, nor the torment of mine hell; Mine heartë may mine harmës not betray; I am so cónfused, that I cannot say. But mercy, lady bright, that knowest well My thought, and seest what harm that I feel. Consider all this, and rue upon my sore, As wisly as I shall for evermore Enforce my might, thy true servant to be, And holdë war alway with chastity: That make I mine avow, so ye me help. I keepë not of armës for to yelp, Nor ask I not to-morrow to have victóry, Nor rénown in this case, nor vainë glory Of prize of armës, blowing up and down, But I would have fully possessioun Of Emily, and die in her service; Find thou the manner how, and in what wise. I reckë not but it may better be To have vict’ry of them, or they of me, So that I have my lady in mine arms. For though so be that Mars is god of arms, Your virtue is so great in heaven above, That, if you list, I shall well have my love. Thy temple will I worship evermo’, And on thine altar, where I ride or go, I will do sacrifice, and firës bete. And if ye will not so, my lady sweet, Then pray I you, to-morrow with a spear That Arcita me through the heartë bear. Then reck I not, when I have lost my life, Though that Arcita win her to his wife. This is th’ effect and end of my prayére⁠— Give me