I'd been thinking about death since this morning because the big beautiful spider by my balcony finally died, her enormous web having quickly grown tattered. So it seemed appropriate coming to the end of "The Knight's Tale" from The Canterbury Tales this morning and Theseus' speech about death.
Lo the ook, that hath so long a norisshinge
From tyme that it first biginneth springe,
And hath so long a lyf, as we may see,
Yet at the laste wasted is the tree.
Considereth eek, how that the harde stoon
Under our feet, on which we trede and goon,
Yit wasteth it, as it lyth by the weye.
The brode river somtyme wexeth dreye.
The grete tounes see we wane and wende.
Than may ye see that al this thing hath ende.
Of man and womman seen we wel also,
That nedeth, in oon of thise termes two,
This is to seyn, in youthe or elles age,
He moot ben deed, the king as shal a page;
Som in his bed, som in the depe see,
Som in the large feeld, as men may se;
Ther helpeth noght, al goth that ilke weye.
Thanne may I seyn that al this thing moot deye.
This is part of grim, beautiful speech that caps off a story about two knights battling for the love a woman, Emelye, they've never spoken to. I'm sure I'm not the first one to point out this is a story in which almost no-one gets to make their own decisions. Only Theseus and the gods, really. Theseus' speech is about "the great mover", or God, and perhaps he thinks of himself as the "small mover", a Duke occupying a different part of the same hierarchy.
Palamon and Arcite are captured by Theseus and, trapped in Theseus' tower, fall in love with Emelye, seeing her in the garden below. And the two men who swore a bond of brotherhood with each other very quickly become bitter enemies over the right to wed Emelye. Every time either one tries to get what he wants, the effort ultimately proves in vain. Even getting out of prison seems to make them both miserable.
We don't hear from Emelye until much later and then it's to find out that she would rather be a virgin the rest of her life than know the company of man. Diana herself manifests to tell Emelye she can't have what she wants, either. Diana, Venus, Mars, and Saturn engage in indirect negotiation. Death is the grand finale of a life over which one has no control, a final, immutable twist of fate. Theseus says it's admirable, at least, for a man to die in his prime, though he says this of a man who died falling off a horse. I suppose one could say that, since he fell due to hellfire summoned by Saturn himself, it was a pretty remarkable demise. Cold comfort for a burned man.
But I suppose all that background negotiation was a fair mirror for how marriage often really works in many cultures, past and present. Political or financial realities play a big part. Princess Mako might be marrying a lawyer but most people would agree a lawyer is still a good catch, bank-wise. In that light, all the fanfare and drama Theseus deliberately builds around the contest between Palamon and Arcite--and which Chaucer describes in beautiful detail--is a really lovely thing to do. By such art Theseus enriches the necessities of life.
I trowe men wolde deme it necligence,
If I foryete to tellen the dispence
Of Theseus, that goth so bisily
To maken up the listes royally;
That swich a noble theatre as it was,
I dar wel seyn that in this world ther nas.
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