upward at his prize, the lovely Emily,—who on her side, by a favouring glance, gave him to heed that she was all his own, both in heart as well as by the fortune of battle,—suddenly a fury, sent from the infernal regions by Pluto, started out of the ground before his horse, which made him leap aside for fear; and foundering as he leaped, Arcite was thrown upon his head, and his breast was crushed with the saddle-bow. Being carried to the palace of Theseus, and his armour cut off, he was softly laid upon a bed; the name of Emily all the while hanging upon his lips.
Meantime the King, with all his company, returned to the city, and were feasted by him three days; during which time the wounded were dressed; and when the time for parting arrived, he accompanied them a long journey from his town, everyone turning his own way home.
Arcite's injury continued to increase, for the inward bleeding could not be stopped on account of the bursting of the blood-vessels in his lungs. When he found that his death was near, he sent for Emily and his dear
