Poor, sad, and rather dead, Arcite. Prayed to the wrong god for help with that little love problem of his. Alas, he chose Mars as his champion and patron, and prayed to the god of war and battle for victory over his cousin Palamon. I may not be as chivalrous as the good knyght nor held in as high estate, but I have learned much in my years of stewardship that oft’ cunning and shrewd knowledge can provide more rewards. Poor Arcite should have prayed to Mercury for the ability to trick Palamon into giving Emelye away freely. Instead Arcite won the physical battle but lost his life and love. If only Arcite had gone on a proper, valient quest full of danger, violence and intrigue, he might have saved a fair maiden and lived happily ever after!
Nothing against the good knyght, but I must say his tale did not please my lowly ears. What of wars and jousts and violence, I say? Too many details and not enough Romance have left me rather bored upon my horse. Thankfully I was sharp enough to sneak another skin of wine before we left so my boredom was not without some amusement.
Now, let’s hear another tale, I believe the swarthy Miller is up next. He seems a rather bawdy fellow -I doubt his tale will disappoint. Enough with chivalry and sermons, I am ready for some merrymaking and jolly laughter on this dreary English eve.