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"This sorweful prisoner, this Palamoun, Goth in the chambre, romynge to and fro, And to hymself compleynynge of his wo; That he was born, ful ofte he seyde, allas! And so bifel, by aventure or cas, That thurgh a wyndow, thikke of many a barre Of iren, greet and square as any sparre, He cast his eye upon Emelya, And therwithal he bleynte and cryed, A! As though he stongen were unto the herte. And with that cry Arcite anon upsterte..." (p. 11)