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diff --git a/257-h/257-h.htm b/257-h/257-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ea9ce70 --- /dev/null +++ b/257-h/257-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10003 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Troilus and Criseyde, by Geoffrey Chaucer + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Troilus and Criseyde, by Geoffrey Chaucer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Troilus and Criseyde + +Author: Geoffrey Chaucer + +Release Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #257] +Last Updated: January 26, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROILUS AND CRISEYDE *** + + + + +Produced by Douglas B. Killings, Diane M. Brendan, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + TROILUS AND CRISEYDE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Geoffrey Chaucer + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> BOOK I. Incipit Liber Primus </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> BOOK II. Incipit Prohemium Secundi Libri. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> BOOK III. Incipit prohemium tercii libri. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> BOOK IV. Incipit Prohemium Liber Quartus. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> BOOK V. Incipit Liber Quintus. </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + BOOK I. Incipit Liber Primus + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen, 1 + That was the king Priamus sone of Troye, + In lovinge, how his aventures fellen + Fro wo to wele, and after out of Ioye, + My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye. 5 + Thesiphone, thou help me for tendyte + Thise woful vers, that wepen as I wryte! + + To thee clepe I, thou goddesse of torment, + Thou cruel Furie, sorwing ever in peyne; + Help me, that am the sorwful instrument 10 + That helpeth lovers, as I can, to pleyne! + For wel sit it, the sothe for to seyne, + A woful wight to han a drery fere, + And, to a sorwful tale, a sory chere. + + For I, that god of Loves servaunts serve, 15 + Ne dar to Love, for myn unlyklinesse, + Preyen for speed, al sholde I therfor sterve, + So fer am I fro his help in derknesse; + But nathelees, if this may doon gladnesse + To any lover, and his cause avayle, 20 + Have he my thank, and myn be this travayle! + + But ye loveres, that bathen in gladnesse, + If any drope of pitee in yow be, + Remembreth yow on passed hevinesse + That ye han felt, and on the adversitee 25 + Of othere folk, and thenketh how that ye + Han felt that Love dorste yow displese; + Or ye han wonne hym with to greet an ese. + + And preyeth for hem that ben in the cas + Of Troilus, as ye may after here, 30 + That love hem bringe in hevene to solas, + And eek for me preyeth to god so dere, + That I have might to shewe, in som manere, + Swich peyne and wo as Loves folk endure, + In Troilus unsely aventure. 35 + + And biddeth eek for hem that been despeyred + In love, that never nil recovered be, + And eek for hem that falsly been apeyred + Thorugh wikked tonges, be it he or she; + Thus biddeth god, for his benignitee, 40 + So graunte hem sone out of this world to pace, + That been despeyred out of Loves grace. + + And biddeth eek for hem that been at ese, + That god hem graunte ay good perseveraunce, + And sende hem might hir ladies so to plese, 45 + That it to Love be worship and plesaunce. + For so hope I my soule best avaunce, + To preye for hem that Loves servaunts be, + And wryte hir wo, and live in charitee. + + And for to have of hem compassioun 50 + As though I were hir owene brother dere. + Now herkeneth with a gode entencioun, + For now wol I gon streight to my matere, + In whiche ye may the double sorwes here + Of Troilus, in loving of Criseyde, 55 + And how that she forsook him er she deyde. + + It is wel wist, how that the Grekes stronge + In armes with a thousand shippes wente + To Troyewardes, and the citee longe + Assegeden neigh ten yeer er they stente, 60 + And, in diverse wyse and oon entente, + The ravisshing to wreken of Eleyne, + By Paris doon, they wroughten al hir peyne. + + Now fil it so, that in the toun ther was + Dwellinge a lord of greet auctoritee, 65 + A gret devyn that cleped was Calkas, + That in science so expert was, that he + Knew wel that Troye sholde destroyed be, + By answere of his god, that highte thus, + Daun Phebus or Apollo Delphicus. 70 + + So whan this Calkas knew by calculinge, + And eek by answere of this Appollo, + That Grekes sholden swich a peple bringe, + Thorugh which that Troye moste been for-do, + He caste anoon out of the toun to go; 75 + For wel wiste he, by sort, that Troye sholde + Destroyed ben, ye, wolde who-so nolde. + + For which, for to departen softely + Took purpos ful this forknowinge wyse, + And to the Grekes ost ful prively 80 + He stal anoon; and they, in curteys wyse, + Hym deden bothe worship and servyse, + In trust that he hath conning hem to rede + In every peril which that is to drede. + + The noyse up roos, whan it was first aspyed, 85 + Thorugh al the toun, and generally was spoken, + That Calkas traytor fled was, and allyed + With hem of Grece; and casten to ben wroken + On him that falsly hadde his feith so broken; + And seyden, he and al his kin at ones 90 + Ben worthy for to brennen, fel and bones. + + Now hadde Calkas left, in this meschaunce, + Al unwist of this false and wikked dede, + His doughter, which that was in gret penaunce, + For of hir lyf she was ful sore in drede, 95 + As she that niste what was best to rede; + For bothe a widowe was she, and allone + Of any freend to whom she dorste hir mone. + + Criseyde was this lady name a-right; + As to my dome, in al Troyes citee 100 + Nas noon so fair, for passing every wight + So aungellyk was hir natyf beautee, + That lyk a thing immortal semed she, + As doth an hevenish parfit creature, + That doun were sent in scorning of nature. 105 + + This lady, which that al-day herde at ere + Hir fadres shame, his falsnesse and tresoun, + Wel nigh out of hir wit for sorwe and fere, + In widewes habit large of samit broun, + On knees she fil biforn Ector a-doun; 110 + With pitous voys, and tendrely wepinge, + His mercy bad, hir-selven excusinge. + + Now was this Ector pitous of nature, + And saw that she was sorwfully bigoon, + And that she was so fair a creature; 115 + Of his goodnesse he gladed hir anoon, + And seyde, `Lat your fadres treson goon + Forth with mischaunce, and ye your-self, in Ioye, + Dwelleth with us, whyl you good list, in Troye. + + `And al thonour that men may doon yow have, 120 + As ferforth as your fader dwelled here, + Ye shul han, and your body shal men save, + As fer as I may ought enquere or here.' + And she him thonked with ful humble chere, + And ofter wolde, and it hadde ben his wille, 125 + And took hir leve, and hoom, and held hir stille. + + And in hir hous she abood with swich meynee + As to hir honour nede was to holde; + And whyl she was dwellinge in that citee, + Kepte hir estat, and bothe of yonge and olde 130 + Ful wel beloved, and wel men of hir tolde. + But whether that she children hadde or noon, + I rede it naught; therfore I late it goon. + + The thinges fellen, as they doon of werre, + Bitwixen hem of Troye and Grekes ofte; 135 + For som day boughten they of Troye it derre, + And eft the Grekes founden no thing softe + The folk of Troye; and thus fortune on-lofte, + And under eft, gan hem to wheelen bothe + After hir cours, ay whyl they were wrothe. 140 + + But how this toun com to destruccioun + Ne falleth nought to purpos me to telle; + For it were a long digressioun + Fro my matere, and yow to longe dwelle. + But the Troyane gestes, as they felle, 145 + In Omer, or in Dares, or in Dyte, + Who-so that can, may rede hem as they wryte. + + But though that Grekes hem of Troye shetten, + And hir citee bisegede al a-boute, + Hir olde usage wolde they not letten, 150 + As for to honoure hir goddes ful devoute; + But aldermost in honour, out of doute, + They hadde a relik hight Palladion, + That was hir trist a-boven everichon. + + And so bifel, whan comen was the tyme 155 + Of Aperil, whan clothed is the mede + With newe grene, of lusty Ver the pryme, + And swote smellen floures whyte and rede, + In sondry wyses shewed, as I rede, + The folk of Troye hir observaunces olde, 160 + Palladiones feste for to holde. + + And to the temple, in al hir beste wyse, + In general, ther wente many a wight, + To herknen of Palladion servyse; + And namely, so many a lusty knight, 165 + So many a lady fresh and mayden bright, + Ful wel arayed, bothe moste and leste, + Ye, bothe for the seson and the feste. + + Among thise othere folk was Criseyda, + In widewes habite blak; but nathelees, 170 + Right as our firste lettre is now an A, + In beautee first so stood she, makelees; + Hir godly looking gladede al the prees. + Nas never seyn thing to ben preysed derre, + Nor under cloude blak so bright a sterre 175 + + As was Criseyde, as folk seyde everichoon + That hir behelden in hir blake wede; + And yet she stood ful lowe and stille alloon, + Bihinden othere folk, in litel brede, + And neigh the dore, ay under shames drede, 180 + Simple of a-tyr, and debonaire of chere, + With ful assured loking and manere. + + This Troilus, as he was wont to gyde + His yonge knightes, ladde hem up and doun + In thilke large temple on every syde, 185 + Biholding ay the ladyes of the toun, + Now here, now there, for no devocioun + Hadde he to noon, to reven him his reste, + But gan to preyse and lakken whom him leste. + + And in his walk ful fast he gan to wayten 190 + If knight or squyer of his companye + Gan for to syke, or lete his eyen bayten + On any woman that he coude aspye; + He wolde smyle, and holden it folye, + And seye him thus, `god wot, she slepeth softe 195 + For love of thee, whan thou tornest ful ofte! + + `I have herd told, pardieux, of your livinge, + Ye lovers, and your lewede observaunces, + And which a labour folk han in winninge + Of love, and, in the keping, which doutaunces; 200 + And whan your preye is lost, wo and penaunces; + O verrey foles! nyce and blinde be ye; + Ther nis not oon can war by other be.' + + And with that word he gan cast up the browe, + Ascaunces, `Lo! is this nought wysly spoken?' 205 + At which the god of love gan loken rowe + Right for despyt, and shoop for to ben wroken; + He kidde anoon his bowe nas not broken; + For sodeynly he hit him at the fulle; + And yet as proud a pekok can he pulle. 210 + + O blinde world, O blinde entencioun! + How ofte falleth al theffect contraire + Of surquidrye and foul presumpcioun; + For caught is proud, and caught is debonaire. + This Troilus is clomben on the staire, 215 + And litel weneth that he moot descenden. + But al-day falleth thing that foles ne wenden. + + As proude Bayard ginneth for to skippe + Out of the wey, so priketh him his corn, + Til he a lash have of the longe whippe, 220 + Than thenketh he, `Though I praunce al biforn + First in the trays, ful fat and newe shorn, + Yet am I but an hors, and horses lawe + I moot endure, and with my feres drawe.' + + So ferde it by this fers and proude knight; 225 + Though he a worthy kinges sone were, + And wende nothing hadde had swiche might + Ayens his wil that sholde his herte stere, + Yet with a look his herte wex a-fere, + That he, that now was most in pryde above, 230 + Wex sodeynly most subget un-to love. + + For-thy ensample taketh of this man, + Ye wyse, proude, and worthy folkes alle, + To scornen Love, which that so sone can + The freedom of your hertes to him thralle; 235 + For ever it was, and ever it shal bifalle, + That Love is he that alle thing may binde; + For may no man for-do the lawe of kinde. + + That this be sooth, hath preved and doth yet; + For this trowe I ye knowen, alle or some, 240 + Men reden not that folk han gretter wit + Than they that han be most with love y-nome; + And strengest folk ben therwith overcome, + The worthiest and grettest of degree: + This was, and is, and yet men shal it see. 245 + + And trewelich it sit wel to be so; + For alderwysest han ther-with ben plesed; + And they that han ben aldermost in wo, + With love han ben conforted most and esed; + And ofte it hath the cruel herte apesed, 250 + And worthy folk maad worthier of name, + And causeth most to dreden vyce and shame. + + Now sith it may not goodly be withstonde, + And is a thing so vertuous in kinde, + Refuseth not to Love for to be bonde, 255 + Sin, as him-selven list, he may yow binde. + The yerde is bet that bowen wole and winde + Than that that brest; and therfor I yow rede + To folwen him that so wel can yow lede. + + But for to tellen forth in special 260 + As of this kinges sone of which I tolde, + And leten other thing collateral, + Of him thenke I my tale for to holde, + Both of his Ioye, and of his cares colde; + And al his werk, as touching this matere, 265 + For I it gan, I wol ther-to refere. + + With-inne the temple he wente him forth pleyinge, + This Troilus, of every wight aboute, + On this lady and now on that lokinge, + Wher-so she were of toune, or of with-oute: 270 + And up-on cas bifel, that thorugh a route + His eye perced, and so depe it wente, + Til on Criseyde it smoot, and ther it stente. + + And sodeynly he wax ther-with astoned, + And gan hire bet biholde in thrifty wyse: 275 + `O mercy, god!' thoughte he, `wher hastow woned, + That art so fair and goodly to devyse?' + Ther-with his herte gan to sprede and ryse, + And softe sighed, lest men mighte him here, + And caughte a-yein his firste pleyinge chere. 280 + + She nas nat with the leste of hir stature, + But alle hir limes so wel answeringe + Weren to womanhode, that creature + Was neuer lasse mannish in seminge. + And eek the pure wyse of here meninge 285 + Shewede wel, that men might in hir gesse + Honour, estat, and wommanly noblesse. + + To Troilus right wonder wel with-alle + Gan for to lyke hir meninge and hir chere, + Which somdel deynous was, for she leet falle 290 + Hir look a lite a-side, in swich manere, + Ascaunces, `What! May I not stonden here?' + And after that hir loking gan she lighte, + That never thoughte him seen so good a sighte. + + And of hir look in him ther gan to quiken 295 + So greet desir, and swich affeccioun, + That in his herte botme gan to stiken + Of hir his fixe and depe impressioun: + And though he erst hadde poured up and doun, + He was tho glad his hornes in to shrinke; 300 + Unnethes wiste he how to loke or winke. + + Lo, he that leet him-selven so konninge, + And scorned hem that loves peynes dryen, + Was ful unwar that love hadde his dwellinge + With-inne the subtile stremes of hir yen; 305 + That sodeynly him thoughte he felte dyen, + Right with hir look, the spirit in his herte; + Blissed be love, that thus can folk converte! + + She, this in blak, likinge to Troylus, + Over alle thyng, he stood for to biholde; 310 + Ne his desir, ne wherfor he stood thus, + He neither chere made, ne worde tolde; + But from a-fer, his maner for to holde, + On other thing his look som-tyme he caste, + And eft on hir, whyl that servyse laste. 315 + + And after this, not fulliche al awhaped, + Out of the temple al esiliche he wente, + Repentinge him that he hadde ever y-iaped + Of loves folk, lest fully the descente + Of scorn fille on him-self; but, what he mente, 320 + Lest it were wist on any maner syde, + His wo he gan dissimulen and hyde. + + Whan he was fro the temple thus departed, + He streyght anoon un-to his paleys torneth, + Right with hir look thurgh-shoten and thurgh-darted, 325 + Al feyneth he in lust that he soiorneth; + And al his chere and speche also he borneth; + And ay, of loves servants every whyle, + Him-self to wrye, at hem he gan to smyle. + + And seyde, `Lord, so ye live al in lest, 330 + Ye loveres! For the conningest of yow, + That serveth most ententiflich and best, + Him tit as often harm ther-of as prow; + Your hyre is quit ayein, ye, god wot how! + Nought wel for wel, but scorn for good servyse; 335 + In feith, your ordre is ruled in good wyse! + + `In noun-certeyn ben alle your observaunces, + But it a sely fewe poyntes be; + Ne no-thing asketh so grete attendaunces + As doth youre lay, and that knowe alle ye; 340 + But that is not the worste, as mote I thee; + But, tolde I yow the worste poynt, I leve, + Al seyde I sooth, ye wolden at me greve! + + `But tak this, that ye loveres ofte eschuwe, + Or elles doon of good entencioun, 345 + Ful ofte thy lady wole it misconstrue, + And deme it harm in hir opinioun; + And yet if she, for other enchesoun, + Be wrooth, than shalt thou han a groyn anoon: + Lord! wel is him that may be of yow oon!' 350 + + But for al this, whan that he say his tyme, + He held his pees, non other bote him gayned; + For love bigan his fetheres so to lyme, + That wel unnethe un-to his folk he fayned + That othere besye nedes him destrayned; 355 + For wo was him, that what to doon he niste, + But bad his folk to goon wher that hem liste. + + And whan that he in chaumbre was allone, + He doun up-on his beddes feet him sette, + And first be gan to syke, and eft to grone, 360 + And thoughte ay on hir so, with-outen lette, + That, as he sat and wook, his spirit mette + That he hir saw a temple, and al the wyse + Right of hir loke, and gan it newe avyse. + + Thus gan he make a mirour of his minde, 365 + In which he saugh al hoolly hir figure; + And that he wel coude in his herte finde, + It was to him a right good aventure + To love swich oon, and if he dide his cure + To serven hir, yet mighte he falle in grace, 370 + Or elles, for oon of hir servaunts pace. + + Imagininge that travaille nor grame + Ne mighte, for so goodly oon, be lorn + As she, ne him for his desir ne shame, + Al were it wist, but in prys and up-born 375 + Of alle lovers wel more than biforn; + Thus argumented he in his ginninge, + Ful unavysed of his wo cominge. + + Thus took he purpos loves craft to suwe, + And thoughte he wolde werken prively, 380 + First, to hyden his desir in muwe + From every wight y-born, al-outrely, + But he mighte ought recovered be therby; + Remembring him, that love to wyde y-blowe + Yelt bittre fruyt, though swete seed be sowe. 385 + + And over al this, yet muchel more he thoughte + What for to speke, and what to holden inne, + And what to arten hir to love he soughte, + And on a song anoon-right to biginne, + And gan loude on his sorwe for to winne; 390 + For with good hope he gan fully assente + Criseyde for to love, and nought repente. + + And of his song nought only the sentence, + As writ myn autour called Lollius, + But pleynly, save our tonges difference, 395 + I dar wel sayn, in al that Troilus + Seyde in his song, lo! every word right thus + As I shal seyn; and who-so list it here, + Lo! next this vers, he may it finden here. + + Cantus Troili. + + `If no love is, O god, what fele I so? 400 + And if love is, what thing and whiche is he! + If love be good, from whennes comth my wo? + If it be wikke, a wonder thinketh me, + Whenne every torment and adversitee + That cometh of him, may to me savory thinke; 405 + For ay thurst I, the more that I it drinke. + + `And if that at myn owene lust I brenne, + Fro whennes cometh my wailing and my pleynte? + If harme agree me, wher-to pleyne I thenne? + I noot, ne why unwery that I feynte. 410 + O quike deeth, O swete harm so queynte, + How may of thee in me swich quantitee, + But-if that I consente that it be? + + `And if that I consente, I wrongfully + Compleyne, y-wis; thus possed to and fro, 415 + Al sterelees with inne a boot am I + A-mid the see, by-twixen windes two, + That in contrarie stonden ever-mo. + Allas! what is this wonder maladye? + For hete of cold, for cold of hete, I deye.' 420 + + And to the god of love thus seyde he + With pitous voys, `O lord, now youres is + My spirit, which that oughte youres be. + Yow thanke I, lord, that han me brought to this; + But whether goddesse or womman, y-wis, 425 + She be, I noot, which that ye do me serve; + But as hir man I wole ay live and sterve. + + `Ye stonden in hire eyen mightily, + As in a place un-to youre vertu digne; + Wherfore, lord, if my servyse or I 430 + May lyke yow, so beth to me benigne; + For myn estat royal here I resigne + In-to hir hond, and with ful humble chere + Bicome hir man, as to my lady dere.' + + In him ne deyned sparen blood royal 435 + The fyr of love, wher-fro god me blesse, + Ne him forbar in no degree, for al + His vertu or his excellent prowesse; + But held him as his thral lowe in distresse, + And brende him so in sondry wyse ay newe, 440 + That sixty tyme a day he loste his hewe. + + So muche, day by day, his owene thought, + For lust to hir, gan quiken and encrese, + That every other charge he sette at nought; + For-thy ful ofte, his hote fyr to cese, 445 + To seen hir goodly look he gan to prese; + For ther-by to ben esed wel he wende, + And ay the ner he was, the more he brende. + + For ay the ner the fyr, the hotter is, + This, trowe I, knoweth al this companye. 450 + But were he fer or neer, I dar seye this, + By night or day, for wisdom or folye, + His herte, which that is his brestes ye, + Was ay on hir, that fairer was to sene + Than ever were Eleyne or Polixene. 455 + + Eek of the day ther passed nought an houre + That to him-self a thousand tyme he seyde, + `Good goodly, to whom serve I and laboure, + As I best can, now wolde god, Criseyde, + Ye wolden on me rewe er that I deyde! 460 + My dere herte, allas! myn hele and hewe + And lyf is lost, but ye wole on me rewe.' + + Alle othere dredes weren from him fledde, + Both of the assege and his savacioun; + Ne in him desyr noon othere fownes bredde 465 + But argumentes to his conclusioun, + That she on him wolde han compassioun, + And he to be hir man, whyl he may dure; + Lo, here his lyf, and from the deeth his cure! + + The sharpe shoures felle of armes preve, 470 + That Ector or his othere bretheren diden, + Ne made him only ther-fore ones meve; + And yet was he, wher-so men wente or riden, + Founde oon the beste, and lengest tyme abiden + Ther peril was, and dide eek such travayle 475 + In armes, that to thenke it was mervayle. + + But for non hate he to the Grekes hadde, + Ne also for the rescous of the toun, + Ne made him thus in armes for to madde, + But only, lo, for this conclusioun, 480 + To lyken hir the bet for his renoun; + Fro day to day in armes so he spedde, + That alle the Grekes as the deeth him dredde. + + And fro this forth tho refte him love his sleep, + And made his mete his foo; and eek his sorwe 485 + Gan multiplye, that, who-so toke keep, + It shewed in his hewe, bothe eve and morwe; + Therfor a title he gan him for to borwe + Of other syknesse, lest of him men wende + That the hote fyr of love him brende, 490 + + And seyde, he hadde a fever and ferde amis; + But how it was, certayn, can I not seye, + If that his lady understood not this, + Or feyned hir she niste, oon of the tweye; + But wel I rede that, by no maner weye, 495 + Ne semed it as that she of him roughte, + Nor of his peyne, or what-so-ever he thoughte. + + But than fel to this Troylus such wo, + That he was wel neigh wood; for ay his drede + Was this, that she som wight had loved so, 500 + That never of him she wolde have taken hede; + For whiche him thoughte he felte his herte blede. + Ne of his wo ne dorste he not biginne + To tellen it, for al this world to winne. + + But whanne he hadde a space fro his care, 505 + Thus to him-self ful ofte he gan to pleyne; + He sayde, `O fool, now art thou in the snare, + That whilom Iapedest at loves peyne; + Now artow hent, now gnaw thyn owene cheyne; + Thou were ay wont eche lovere reprehende 510 + Of thing fro which thou canst thee nat defende. + + `What wol now every lover seyn of thee, + If this be wist, but ever in thyn absence + Laughen in scorn, and seyn, `Lo, ther gooth he, + That is the man of so gret sapience, 515 + That held us lovers leest in reverence! + Now, thonked be god, he may goon in the daunce + Of hem that Love list febly for to avaunce!' + + `But, O thou woful Troilus, god wolde, + Sin thou most loven thurgh thi destinee, 520 + That thow beset were on swich oon that sholde + Knowe al thy wo, al lakkede hir pitee: + But al so cold in love, towardes thee, + Thy lady is, as frost in winter mone, + And thou fordoon, as snow in fyr is sone.' 525 + + `God wolde I were aryved in the port + Of deth, to which my sorwe wil me lede! + A, lord, to me it were a gret comfort; + Than were I quit of languisshing in drede. + For by myn hidde sorwe y-blowe on brede 530 + I shal bi-Iaped been a thousand tyme + More than that fool of whos folye men ryme. + + `But now help god, and ye, swete, for whom + I pleyne, y-caught, ye, never wight so faste! + O mercy, dere herte, and help me from 535 + The deeth, for I, whyl that my lyf may laste, + More than my-self wol love yow to my laste. + And with som freendly look gladeth me, swete, + Though never more thing ye me bi-hete!' + + This wordes and ful manye an-other to 540 + He spak, and called ever in his compleynte + Hir name, for to tellen hir his wo, + Til neigh that he in salte teres dreynte. + Al was for nought, she herde nought his pleynte; + And whan that he bithoughte on that folye, 545 + A thousand fold his wo gan multiplye. + + Bi-wayling in his chambre thus allone, + A freend of his, that called was Pandare, + Com ones in unwar, and herde him grone, + And say his freend in swich distresse and care: + `Allas!' quod he, `who causeth al this fare? 551 + O mercy, god! What unhap may this mene? + Han now thus sone Grekes maad yow lene? + + `Or hastow som remors of conscience, + And art now falle in som devocioun, 555 + And waylest for thy sinne and thyn offence, + And hast for ferde caught attricioun? + God save hem that bi-seged han our toun, + And so can leye our Iolyte on presse, + And bring our lusty folk to holinesse!' 560 + + These wordes seyde he for the nones alle, + That with swich thing he mighte him angry maken, + And with an angre don his sorwe falle, + As for the tyme, and his corage awaken; + But wel he wist, as fer as tonges spaken, 565 + Ther nas a man of gretter hardinesse + Than he, ne more desired worthinesse. + + `What cas,' quod Troilus, `or what aventure + Hath gyded thee to see my languisshinge, + That am refus of euery creature? 570 + But for the love of god, at my preyinge, + Go henne a-way, for certes, my deyinge + Wol thee disese, and I mot nedes deye; + Ther-for go wey, ther is no more to seye. + + `But if thou wene I be thus sik for drede, 575 + It is not so, and ther-for scorne nought; + Ther is a-nother thing I take of hede + Wel more than ought the Grekes han y-wrought, + Which cause is of my deeth, for sorwe and thought. + But though that I now telle thee it ne leste, 580 + Be thou nought wrooth; I hyde it for the beste.' + + This Pandare, that neigh malt for wo and routhe, + Ful often seyde, `Allas! what may this be? + Now freend,' quod he, `if ever love or trouthe + Hath been, or is, bi-twixen thee and me, 585 + Ne do thou never swiche a crueltee + To hyde fro thy freend so greet a care; + Wostow nought wel that it am I, Pandare? + + `I wole parten with thee al thy peyne, + If it be so I do thee no comfort, 590 + As it is freendes right, sooth for to seyne, + To entreparten wo, as glad desport. + I have, and shal, for trewe or fals report, + In wrong and right y-loved thee al my lyve; + Hyd not thy wo fro me, but telle it blyve.' 595 + + Than gan this sorwful Troilus to syke, + And seyde him thus, "God leve it be my beste + To telle it thee; for sith it may thee lyke, + Yet wole I telle it, though myn herte breste; + And wel wot I thou mayst do me no reste. 600 + But lest thow deme I truste not to thee, + Now herkne, freend, for thus it stant with me. + + `Love, a-yeins the which who-so defendeth + Him-selven most, him alder-lest avayleth, + With disespeir so sorwfully me offendeth, 605 + That streyght un-to the deeth myn herte sayleth. + Ther-to desyr so brenningly me assaylleth, + That to ben slayn it were a gretter Ioye + To me than king of Grece been and Troye! + + `Suffiseth this, my fulle freend Pandare, 610 + That I have seyd, for now wostow my wo; + And for the love of god, my colde care + So hyd it wel, I telle it never to mo; + For harmes mighte folwen, mo than two, + If it were wist; but be thou in gladnesse, 615 + And lat me sterve, unknowe, of my distresse.' + + `How hastow thus unkindely and longe + Hid this fro me, thou fool?' quod Pandarus; + `Paraunter thou might after swich oon longe, + That myn avys anoon may helpen us.' 620 + `This were a wonder thing,' quod Troylus, + `Thou coudest never in love thy-selven wisse; + How devel maystow bringen me to blisse?' + + `Ye, Troilus, now herke,' quod Pandare, + `Though I be nyce; it happeth ofte so, 625 + That oon that exces doth ful yvele fare, + By good counseyl can kepe his freend ther-fro. + I have my-self eek seyn a blind man go + Ther-as he fel that coude loke wyde; + A fool may eek a wys man ofte gyde. 630 + + `A whetston is no kerving instrument, + And yet it maketh sharpe kerving-tolis. + And ther thou woost that I have ought miswent, + Eschewe thou that, for swich thing to thee scole is; + Thus ofte wyse men ben war by folis. 635 + If thou do so, thy wit is wel biwared; + By his contrarie is every thing declared. + + `For how might ever sweetnesse have be knowe + To him that never tasted bitternesse? + Ne no man may be inly glad, I trowe, 640 + That never was in sorwe or som distresse; + Eek whyt by blak, by shame eek worthinesse, + Ech set by other, more for other semeth; + As men may see; and so the wyse it demeth. + + `Sith thus of two contraries is a lore, 645 + I, that have in love so ofte assayed + Grevaunces, oughte conne, and wel the more + Counsayllen thee of that thou art amayed. + Eek thee ne oughte nat ben yvel apayed, + Though I desyre with thee for to bere 650 + Thyn hevy charge; it shal the lasse dere. + + `I woot wel that it fareth thus by me + As to thy brother Parys an herdesse, + Which that y-cleped was Oenone, + Wrot in a compleynte of hir hevinesse: 655 + Ye say the lettre that she wroot, y gesse?' + `Nay, never yet, y-wis,' quod Troilus. + `Now,' quod Pandare, `herkneth, it was thus. — + + "Phebus, that first fond art of medicyne,' + Quod she, `and coude in every wightes care 660 + Remede and reed, by herbes he knew fyne, + Yet to him-self his conning was ful bare; + For love hadde him so bounden in a snare, + Al for the doughter of the kinge Admete, + That al his craft ne coude his sorwe bete." — 665 + + `Right so fare I, unhappily for me; + I love oon best, and that me smerteth sore; + And yet, paraunter, can I rede thee, + And not my-self; repreve me no more. + I have no cause, I woot wel, for to sore 670 + As doth an hauk that listeth for to pleye, + But to thyn help yet somwhat can I seye. + + `And of o thing right siker maystow be, + That certayn, for to deyen in the peyne, + That I shal never-mo discoveren thee; 675 + Ne, by my trouthe, I kepe nat restreyne + Thee fro thy love, thogh that it were Eleyne, + That is thy brotheres wif, if ich it wiste; + Be what she be, and love hir as thee liste. + + `Therfore, as freend fullich in me assure, 680 + And tel me plat what is thyn enchesoun, + And final cause of wo that ye endure; + For douteth no-thing, myn entencioun + Nis nought to yow of reprehencioun, + To speke as now, for no wight may bireve 685 + A man to love, til that him list to leve. + + `And witeth wel, that bothe two ben vyces, + Mistrusten alle, or elles alle leve; + But wel I woot, the mene of it no vyce is, + For to trusten sum wight is a preve 690 + Of trouthe, and for-thy wolde I fayn remeve + Thy wrong conseyte, and do thee som wight triste, + Thy wo to telle; and tel me, if thee liste. + + `The wyse seyth, "Wo him that is allone, + For, and he falle, he hath noon help to ryse;" 695 + And sith thou hast a felawe, tel thy mone; + For this nis not, certeyn, the nexte wyse + To winnen love, as techen us the wyse, + To walwe and wepe as Niobe the quene, + Whos teres yet in marbel been y-sene. 700 + + `Lat be thy weping and thi drerinesse, + And lat us lissen wo with other speche; + So may thy woful tyme seme lesse. + Delyte not in wo thy wo to seche, + As doon thise foles that hir sorwes eche 705 + With sorwe, whan they han misaventure, + And listen nought to seche hem other cure. + + `Men seyn, "To wrecche is consolacioun + To have an-other felawe in his peyne;" + That oughte wel ben our opinioun, 710 + For, bothe thou and I, of love we pleyne; + So ful of sorwe am I, soth for to seyne, + That certeynly no more harde grace + May sitte on me, for-why ther is no space. + + `If god wole thou art not agast of me, 715 + Lest I wolde of thy lady thee bigyle, + Thow wost thy-self whom that I love, pardee, + As I best can, gon sithen longe whyle. + And sith thou wost I do it for no wyle, + And sith I am he that thou tristest most, 720 + Tel me sumwhat, sin al my wo thou wost.' + + Yet Troilus, for al this, no word seyde, + But longe he ley as stille as he ded were; + And after this with sykinge he abreyde, + And to Pandarus voys he lente his ere, 725 + And up his eyen caste he, that in fere + Was Pandarus, lest that in frenesye + He sholde falle, or elles sone dye; + + And cryde `A-wake' ful wonderly and sharpe; + `What? Slombrestow as in a lytargye? 730 + Or artow lyk an asse to the harpe, + That hereth soun, whan men the strenges plye, + But in his minde of that no melodye + May sinken, him to glade, for that he + So dul is of his bestialitee?' 735 + + And with that, Pandare of his wordes stente; + And Troilus yet him no word answerde, + For-why to telle nas not his entente + To never no man, for whom that he so ferde. + For it is seyd, `Man maketh ofte a yerde 740 + With which the maker is him-self y-beten + In sondry maner,' as thise wyse treten, + + And namely, in his counseyl tellinge + That toucheth love that oughte be secree; + For of him-self it wolde y-nough out-springe, 745 + But-if that it the bet governed be. + Eek som-tyme it is craft to seme flee + Fro thing which in effect men hunte faste; + Al this gan Troilus in his herte caste. + + But nathelees, whan he had herd him crye 750 + `Awake!' he gan to syke wonder sore, + And seyde, `Freend, though that I stille lye, + I am not deef; now pees, and cry no more; + For I have herd thy wordes and thy lore; + But suffre me my mischef to biwayle, 755 + For thy proverbes may me nought avayle. + + `Nor other cure canstow noon for me. + Eek I nil not be cured, I wol deye; + What knowe I of the quene Niobe? + Lat be thyne olde ensaumples, I thee preye.' 760 + `No,' quod tho Pandarus, `therfore I seye, + Swich is delyt of foles to biwepe + Hir wo, but seken bote they ne kepe. + + `Now knowe I that ther reson in the fayleth. + But tel me, if I wiste what she were 765 + For whom that thee al this misaunter ayleth? + Dorstestow that I tolde hir in hir ere + Thy wo, sith thou darst not thy-self for fere, + And hir bisoughte on thee to han som routhe?' + `Why, nay,' quod he, `by god and by my trouthe!' 770 + + `What, Not as bisily,' quod Pandarus, + `As though myn owene lyf lay on this nede?' + `No, certes, brother,' quod this Troilus, + `And why?' — `For that thou sholdest never spede.' + `Wostow that wel?' — `Ye, that is out of drede,' 775 + Quod Troilus, `for al that ever ye conne, + She nil to noon swich wrecche as I be wonne.' + + Quod Pandarus, `Allas! What may this be, + That thou dispeyred art thus causelees? + What? Liveth not thy lady? Benedicite! 780 + How wostow so that thou art gracelees? + Swich yvel is nat alwey botelees. + Why, put not impossible thus thy cure, + Sin thing to come is ofte in aventure. + + `I graunte wel that thou endurest wo 785 + As sharp as doth he, Ticius, in helle, + Whos stomak foules tyren ever-mo + That highte volturis, as bokes telle. + But I may not endure that thou dwelle + In so unskilful an opinioun 790 + That of thy wo is no curacioun. + + `But ones niltow, for thy coward herte, + And for thyn ire and folish wilfulnesse, + For wantrust, tellen of thy sorwes smerte, + Ne to thyn owene help do bisinesse 795 + As muche as speke a resoun more or lesse, + But lyest as he that list of no-thing recche. + What womman coude love swich a wrecche? + + `What may she demen other of thy deeth, + If thou thus deye, and she not why it is, 800 + But that for fere is yolden up thy breeth, + For Grekes han biseged us, y-wis? + Lord, which a thank than shaltow han of this! + Thus wol she seyn, and al the toun at ones, + "The wrecche is deed, the devel have his bones!" 805 + + `Thou mayst allone here wepe and crye and knele; + But, love a woman that she woot it nought, + And she wol quyte that thou shalt not fele; + Unknowe, unkist, and lost that is un-sought. + What! Many a man hath love ful dere y-bought 810 + Twenty winter that his lady wiste, + That never yet his lady mouth he kiste. + + `What? Shulde be therfor fallen in despeyr, + Or be recreaunt for his owene tene, + Or sleen him-self, al be his lady fayr? 815 + Nay, nay, but ever in oon be fresh and grene + To serve and love his dere hertes quene, + And thenke it is a guerdoun hir to serve + A thousand-fold more than he can deserve.' + + Of that word took hede Troilus, 820 + And thoughte anoon what folye he was inne, + And how that sooth him seyde Pandarus, + That for to sleen him-self mighte he not winne, + But bothe doon unmanhod and a sinne, + And of his deeth his lady nought to wyte; 825 + For of his wo, god woot, she knew ful lyte. + + And with that thought he gan ful sore syke, + And seyde, `Allas! What is me best to do?' + To whom Pandare answered, `If thee lyke, + The best is that thou telle me thy wo; 830 + And have my trouthe, but thou it finde so, + I be thy bote, or that it be ful longe, + To peces do me drawe, and sithen honge!' + + `Ye, so thou seyst,' quod Troilus tho, `allas! + But, god wot, it is not the rather so; 835 + Ful hard were it to helpen in this cas, + For wel finde I that Fortune is my fo, + Ne alle the men that ryden conne or go + May of hir cruel wheel the harm withstonde; + For, as hir list, she pleyeth with free and bonde.' 840 + + Quod Pandarus, `Than blamestow Fortune + For thou art wrooth, ye, now at erst I see; + Wostow nat wel that Fortune is commune + To every maner wight in som degree? + And yet thou hast this comfort, lo, pardee! 845 + That, as hir Ioyes moten over-goon, + So mote hir sorwes passen everichoon. + + `For if hir wheel stinte any-thing to torne, + Than cessed she Fortune anoon to be: + Now, sith hir wheel by no wey may soiorne, 850 + What wostow if hir mutabilitee + Right as thy-selven list, wol doon by thee, + Or that she be not fer fro thyn helpinge? + Paraunter, thou hast cause for to singe! + + `And therfor wostow what I thee beseche? 855 + Lat be thy wo and turning to the grounde; + For who-so list have helping of his leche, + To him bihoveth first unwrye his wounde. + To Cerberus in helle ay be I bounde, + Were it for my suster, al thy sorwe, 860 + By my wil, she sholde al be thyn to-morwe. + + `Loke up, I seye, and tel me what she is + Anoon, that I may goon aboute thy nede; + Knowe ich hir ought? For my love, tel me this; + Than wolde I hopen rather for to spede.' 865 + Tho gan the veyne of Troilus to blede, + For he was hit, and wex al reed for shame; + `A ha!' quod Pandare, `Here biginneth game!' + + And with that word he gan him for to shake, + And seyde, `Theef, thou shalt hir name telle.' 870 + But tho gan sely Troilus for to quake + As though men sholde han led him in-to helle, + And seyde, `Allas! Of al my wo the welle, + Than is my swete fo called Criseyde!' + And wel nigh with the word for fere he deyde. 875 + + And whan that Pandare herde hir name nevene, + Lord, he was glad, and seyde, `Freend so dere, + Now fare a-right, for Ioves name in hevene, + Love hath biset the wel, be of good chere; + For of good name and wysdom and manere 880 + She hath y-nough, and eek of gentilesse; + If she be fayr, thou wost thy-self, I gesse, + + `Ne I never saw a more bountevous + Of hir estat, ne a gladder, ne of speche + A freendlier, ne a more gracious 885 + For to do wel, ne lasse hadde nede to seche + What for to doon; and al this bet to eche, + In honour, to as fer as she may strecche, + A kinges herte semeth by hirs a wrecche. + + `And for-thy loke of good comfort thou be; 890 + For certeinly, the firste poynt is this + Of noble corage and wel ordeyne, + A man to have pees with him-self, y-wis; + So oughtest thou, for nought but good it is + To loven wel, and in a worthy place; 895 + Thee oghte not to clepe it hap, but grace. + + `And also thenk, and ther-with glade thee, + That sith thy lady vertuous is al, + So folweth it that ther is som pitee + Amonges alle thise othere in general; 900 + And for-thy see that thou, in special, + Requere nought that is ayein hir name; + For vertue streccheth not him-self to shame. + + `But wel is me that ever that I was born, + That thou biset art in so good a place; 905 + For by my trouthe, in love I dorste have sworn, + Thee sholde never han tid thus fayr a grace; + And wostow why? For thou were wont to chace + At Love in scorn, and for despyt him calle + "Seynt Idiot, lord of thise foles alle." 910 + + `How often hastow maad thy nyce Iapes, + And seyd, that loves servants everichone + Of nycetee been verray goddes apes; + And some wolde monche hir mete alone, + Ligging a-bedde, and make hem for to grone; 915 + And som, thou seydest, hadde a blaunche fevere, + And preydest god he sholde never kevere. + + `And som of hem tok on hem, for the colde, + More than y-nough, so seydestow ful ofte; + And som han feyned ofte tyme, and tolde 920 + How that they wake, whan they slepen softe; + And thus they wolde han brought hem-self a-lofte, + And nathelees were under at the laste; + Thus seydestow, and Iapedest ful faste. + + `Yet seydestow, that, for the more part, 925 + These loveres wolden speke in general, + And thoughten that it was a siker art, + For fayling, for to assayen over-al. + Now may I iape of thee, if that I shal! + But nathelees, though that I sholde deye, 930 + That thou art noon of tho, that dorste I seye. + + `Now beet thy brest, and sey to god of love, + "Thy grace, lord! For now I me repente + If I mis spak, for now my-self I love:" + Thus sey with al thyn herte in good entente.' 935 + Quod Troilus, `A! Lord! I me consente, + And prey to thee my Iapes thou foryive, + And I shal never-more whyl I live.' + + `Thou seyst wel,' quod Pandare, `and now I hope + That thou the goddes wraththe hast al apesed; 940 + And sithen thou hast wepen many a drope, + And seyd swich thing wher-with thy god is plesed, + Now wolde never god but thou were esed; + And think wel, she of whom rist al thy wo + Here-after may thy comfort been al-so. 945 + + `For thilke ground, that bereth the wedes wikke, + Bereth eek thise holsom herbes, as ful ofte + Next the foule netle, rough and thikke, + The rose waxeth swote and smothe and softe; + And next the valey is the hil a-lofte; 950 + And next the derke night the glade morwe; + And also Ioye is next the fyn of sorwe. + + `Now loke that atempre be thy brydel, + And, for the beste, ay suffre to the tyde, + Or elles al our labour is on ydel; 955 + He hasteth wel that wysly can abyde; + Be diligent, and trewe, and ay wel hyde. + Be lusty, free, persevere in thy servyse, + And al is wel, if thou werke in this wyse. + + `But he that parted is in every place 960 + Is no-wher hool, as writen clerkes wyse; + What wonder is, though swich oon have no grace? + Eek wostow how it fareth of som servyse? + As plaunte a tre or herbe, in sondry wyse, + And on the morwe pulle it up as blyve, 965 + No wonder is, though it may never thryve. + + `And sith that god of love hath thee bistowed + In place digne un-to thy worthinesse, + Stond faste, for to good port hastow rowed; + And of thy-self, for any hevinesse, 970 + Hope alwey wel; for, but-if drerinesse + Or over-haste our bothe labour shende, + I hope of this to maken a good ende. + + `And wostow why I am the lasse a-fered + Of this matere with my nece trete? 975 + For this have I herd seyd of wyse y-lered, + "Was never man ne woman yet bigete + That was unapt to suffren loves hete, + Celestial, or elles love of kinde;" + For-thy som grace I hope in hir to finde. 980 + + `And for to speke of hir in special, + Hir beautee to bithinken and hir youthe, + It sit hir nought to be celestial + As yet, though that hir liste bothe and couthe; + But trewely, it sete hir wel right nouthe 985 + A worthy knight to loven and cheryce, + And but she do, I holde it for a vyce. + + `Wherfore I am, and wol be, ay redy + To peyne me to do yow this servyse; + For bothe yow to plese thus hope I 990 + Her-afterward; for ye beth bothe wyse, + And conne it counseyl kepe in swich a wyse + That no man shal the wyser of it be; + And so we may be gladed alle three. + + `And, by my trouthe, I have right now of thee 995 + A good conceyt in my wit, as I gesse, + And what it is, I wol now that thou see. + I thenke, sith that love, of his goodnesse, + Hath thee converted out of wikkednesse, + That thou shalt be the beste post, I leve, 1000 + Of al his lay, and most his foos to-greve. + + `Ensample why, see now these wyse clerkes, + That erren aldermost a-yein a lawe, + And ben converted from hir wikked werkes + Thorugh grace of god, that list hem to him drawe, 1005 + Than arn they folk that han most god in awe, + And strengest-feythed been, I understonde, + And conne an errour alder-best withstonde.' + + Whan Troilus had herd Pandare assented + To been his help in loving of Criseyde, 1010 + Wex of his wo, as who seyth, untormented, + But hotter wex his love, and thus he seyde, + With sobre chere, al-though his herte pleyde, + `Now blisful Venus helpe, er that I sterve, + Of thee, Pandare, I may som thank deserve. 1015 + + `But, dere frend, how shal myn wo ben lesse + Til this be doon? And goode, eek tel me this, + How wiltow seyn of me and my destresse? + Lest she be wrooth, this drede I most, y-wys, + Or nil not here or trowen how it is. 1020 + Al this drede I, and eek for the manere + Of thee, hir eem, she nil no swich thing here.' + + Quod Pandarus, `Thou hast a ful gret care + Lest that the cherl may falle out of the mone! + Why, lord! I hate of the thy nyce fare! 1025 + Why, entremete of that thou hast to done! + For goddes love, I bidde thee a bone, + So lat me alone, and it shal be thy beste.' — + `Why, freend,' quod he, `now do right as the leste. + + `But herke, Pandare, o word, for I nolde 1030 + That thou in me wendest so greet folye, + That to my lady I desiren sholde + That toucheth harm or any vilenye; + For dredelees, me were lever dye + Than she of me ought elles understode 1035 + But that, that mighte sounen in-to gode.' + + Tho lough this Pandare, and anoon answerde, + `And I thy borw? Fy! No wight dooth but so; + I roughte nought though that she stode and herde + How that thou seyst; but fare-wel, I wol go. 1040 + A-dieu! Be glad! God spede us bothe two! + Yif me this labour and this besinesse, + And of my speed be thyn al that swetnesse.' + + Tho Troilus gan doun on knees to falle, + And Pandare in his armes hente faste, 1045 + And seyde, `Now, fy on the Grekes alle! + Yet, pardee, god shal helpe us at the laste; + And dredelees, if that my lyf may laste, + And god to-forn, lo, som of hem shal smerte; + And yet me athinketh that this avaunt me asterte! 1050 + + `Now, Pandare, I can no more seye, + But thou wys, thou wost, thou mayst, thou art al! + My lyf, my deeth, hool in thyn bonde I leye; + Help now,' Quod he, `Yis, by my trouthe, I shal.' + `God yelde thee, freend, and this in special,' 1055 + Quod Troilus, `that thou me recomaunde + To hir that to the deeth me may comaunde.' + + This Pandarus tho, desirous to serve + His fulle freend, than seyde in this manere, 1059 + `Far-wel, and thenk I wol thy thank deserve; + Have here my trouthe, and that thou shalt wel here.' — + And wente his wey, thenking on this matere, + And how he best mighte hir beseche of grace, + And finde a tyme ther-to, and a place. + + For every wight that hath an hous to founde 1065 + Ne renneth nought the werk for to biginne + With rakel hond, but he wol byde a stounde, + And sende his hertes lyne out fro with-inne + Alderfirst his purpos for to winne. + Al this Pandare in his herte thoughte, 1070 + And caste his werk ful wysly, or he wroughte. + + But Troilus lay tho no lenger doun, + But up anoon up-on his stede bay, + And in the feld he pleyde tho leoun; + Wo was that Greek that with him mette that day. 1075 + And in the toun his maner tho forth ay + So goodly was, and gat him so in grace, + That ech him lovede that loked on his face. + + For he bicom the frendlyeste wight, + The gentileste, and eek the moste free, 1080 + The thriftieste and oon the beste knight, + That in his tyme was, or mighte be. + Dede were his Iapes and his crueltee, + His heighe port and his manere estraunge, + And ech of tho gan for a vertu chaunge. 1085 + + Now lat us stinte of Troilus a stounde, + That fareth lyk a man that hurt is sore, + And is somdel of akinge of his wounde + Y-lissed wel, but heled no del more: + And, as an esy pacient, the lore 1090 + Abit of him that gooth aboute his cure; + And thus he dryveth forth his aventure. + + Explicit Liber Primus +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK II. Incipit Prohemium Secundi Libri. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Out of these blake wawes for to sayle, + O wind, O wind, the weder ginneth clere; + For in this see the boot hath swich travayle, + Of my conning, that unnethe I it stere: + This see clepe I the tempestous matere 5 + Of desespeyr that Troilus was inne: + But now of hope the calendes biginne. + + O lady myn, that called art Cleo, + Thou be my speed fro this forth, and my muse, + To ryme wel this book, til I have do; 10 + Me nedeth here noon other art to use. + For-why to every lovere I me excuse, + That of no sentement I this endyte, + But out of Latin in my tonge it wryte. + + Wherfore I nil have neither thank ne blame 15 + Of al this werk, but prey yow mekely, + Disblameth me if any word be lame, + For as myn auctor seyde, so seye I. + Eek though I speke of love unfelingly, + No wondre is, for it no-thing of newe is; 20 + A blind man can nat Iuggen wel in hewis. + + Ye knowe eek, that in forme of speche is chaunge + With-inne a thousand yeer, and wordes tho + That hadden prys, now wonder nyce and straunge + Us thinketh hem; and yet they spake hem so, 25 + And spedde as wel in love as men now do; + Eek for to winne love in sondry ages, + In sondry londes, sondry ben usages. + + And for-thy if it happe in any wyse, + That here be any lovere in this place 30 + That herkneth, as the storie wol devyse, + How Troilus com to his lady grace, + And thenketh, so nolde I nat love purchace, + Or wondreth on his speche or his doinge, + I noot; but it is me no wonderinge; 35 + + For every wight which that to Rome went, + Halt nat o path, or alwey o manere; + Eek in som lond were al the gamen shent, + If that they ferde in love as men don here, + As thus, in open doing or in chere, 40 + In visitinge, in forme, or seyde hire sawes; + For-thy men seyn, ech contree hath his lawes. + + Eek scarsly been ther in this place three + That han in love seid lyk and doon in al; + For to thy purpos this may lyken thee, 45 + And thee right nought, yet al is seyd or shal; + Eek som men grave in tree, som in stoon wal, + As it bitit; but sin I have begonne, + Myn auctor shal I folwen, if I conne. + + Exclipit prohemium Secundi Libri. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Incipit Liber Secundus. + + In May, that moder is of monthes glade, 50 + That fresshe floures, blewe, and whyte, and rede, + Ben quike agayn, that winter dede made, + And ful of bawme is fleting every mede; + Whan Phebus doth his brighte bemes sprede + Right in the whyte Bole, it so bitidde 55 + As I shal singe, on Mayes day the thridde, + + That Pandarus, for al his wyse speche, + Felt eek his part of loves shottes kene, + That, coude he never so wel of loving preche, + It made his hewe a-day ful ofte grene; 60 + So shoop it, that hym fil that day a tene + In love, for which in wo to bedde he wente, + And made, er it was day, ful many a wente. + + The swalwe Proigne, with a sorwful lay, + Whan morwe com, gan make hir waymentinge, 65 + Why she forshapen was; and ever lay + Pandare a-bedde, half in a slomeringe, + Til she so neigh him made hir chiteringe + How Tereus gan forth hir suster take, + That with the noyse of hir he gan a-wake; 70 + + And gan to calle, and dresse him up to ryse, + Remembringe him his erand was to done + From Troilus, and eek his greet empryse; + And caste and knew in good plyt was the mone + To doon viage, and took his wey ful sone 75 + Un-to his neces paleys ther bi-syde; + Now Ianus, god of entree, thou him gyde! + + Whan he was come un-to his neces place, + `Wher is my lady?' to hir folk seyde he; + And they him tolde; and he forth in gan pace, 80 + And fond, two othere ladyes sete and she, + With-inne a paved parlour; and they three + Herden a mayden reden hem the geste + Of the Sege of Thebes, whyl hem leste. + + Quod Pandarus, `Ma dame, god yow see, 85 + With al your book and al the companye!' + `Ey, uncle myn, welcome y-wis,' quod she, + And up she roos, and by the hond in hye + She took him faste, and seyde, `This night thrye, + To goode mote it turne, of yow I mette!' 90 + And with that word she doun on bench him sette. + + `Ye, nece, ye shal fare wel the bet, + If god wole, al this yeer,' quod Pandarus; + `But I am sory that I have yow let + To herknen of your book ye preysen thus; 95 + For goddes love, what seith it? tel it us. + Is it of love? O, som good ye me lere!' + `Uncle,' quod she, `your maistresse is not here!' + + With that they gonnen laughe, and tho she seyde, + `This romaunce is of Thebes, that we rede; 100 + And we han herd how that king Laius deyde + Thurgh Edippus his sone, and al that dede; + And here we stenten at these lettres rede, + How the bisshop, as the book can telle, + Amphiorax, fil thurgh the ground to helle.' 105 + + Quod Pandarus, `Al this knowe I my-selve, + And al the assege of Thebes and the care; + For her-of been ther maked bokes twelve: — + But lat be this, and tel me how ye fare; + Do wey your barbe, and shew your face bare; 110 + Do wey your book, rys up, and lat us daunce, + And lat us don to May som observaunce.' + + `A! God forbede!' quod she. `Be ye mad? + Is that a widewes lyf, so god you save? + By god, ye maken me right sore a-drad, 115 + Ye ben so wilde, it semeth as ye rave! + It sete me wel bet ay in a cave + To bidde, and rede on holy seyntes lyves; + Lat maydens gon to daunce, and yonge wyves.' + + `As ever thryve I,' quod this Pandarus, 120 + `Yet coude I telle a thing to doon you pleye.' + `Now, uncle dere,' quod she, `tel it us + For goddes love; is than the assege aweye? + I am of Grekes so ferd that I deye.' + `Nay, nay,' quod he, `as ever mote I thryve! 125 + It is a thing wel bet than swiche fyve.' + + `Ye, holy god,' quod she, `what thing is that? + What! Bet than swiche fyve? Ey, nay, y-wis! + For al this world ne can I reden what + It sholde been; som Iape, I trowe, is this; 130 + And but your-selven telle us what it is, + My wit is for to arede it al to lene; + As help me god, I noot nat what ye meene.' + + `And I your borow, ne never shal, for me, + This thing be told to yow, as mote I thryve!' 135 + `And why so, uncle myn? Why so?' quod she. + `By god,' quod he, `that wole I telle as blyve; + For prouder womman were ther noon on-lyve, + And ye it wiste, in al the toun of Troye; + I iape nought, as ever have I Ioye!' 140 + + Tho gan she wondren more than biforn + A thousand fold, and doun hir eyen caste; + For never, sith the tyme that she was born, + To knowe thing desired she so faste; + And with a syk she seyde him at the laste, 145 + `Now, uncle myn, I nil yow nought displese, + Nor axen more, that may do yow disese.' + + So after this, with many wordes glade, + And freendly tales, and with mery chere, + Of this and that they pleyde, and gunnen wade 150 + In many an unkouth glad and deep matere, + As freendes doon, whan they ben met y-fere; + Til she gan axen him how Ector ferde, + That was the tounes wal and Grekes yerde. + + `Ful wel, I thanke it god,' quod Pandarus, 155 + `Save in his arm he hath a litel wounde; + And eek his fresshe brother Troilus, + The wyse worthy Ector the secounde, + In whom that ever vertu list abounde, + As alle trouthe and alle gentillesse, 160 + Wysdom, honour, fredom, and worthinesse.' + + `In good feith, eem,' quod she, `that lyketh me; + They faren wel, god save hem bothe two! + For trewely I holde it greet deyntee + A kinges sone in armes wel to do, 165 + And been of good condiciouns ther-to; + For greet power and moral vertu here + Is selde y-seye in o persone y-fere.' + + `In good feith, that is sooth,' quod Pandarus; + `But, by my trouthe, the king hath sones tweye, 170 + That is to mene, Ector and Troilus, + That certainly, though that I sholde deye, + They been as voyde of vyces, dar I seye, + As any men that liveth under the sonne, + Hir might is wyde y-knowe, and what they conne. 175 + + `Of Ector nedeth it nought for to telle: + In al this world ther nis a bettre knight + Than he, that is of worthinesse welle; + And he wel more vertu hath than might. + This knoweth many a wys and worthy wight. 180 + The same prys of Troilus I seye, + God help me so, I knowe not swiche tweye.' + + `By god,' quod she, `of Ector that is sooth; + Of Troilus the same thing trowe I; + For, dredelees, men tellen that he dooth 185 + In armes day by day so worthily, + And bereth him here at hoom so gentilly + To every wight, that al the prys hath he + Of hem that me were levest preysed be.' + + `Ye sey right sooth, y-wis,' quod Pandarus; 190 + `For yesterday, who-so hadde with him been, + He might have wondred up-on Troilus; + For never yet so thikke a swarm of been + Ne fleigh, as Grekes fro him gonne fleen; + And thorugh the feld, in everi wightes ere, 195 + Ther nas no cry but "Troilus is there!" + + `Now here, now there, he hunted hem so faste, + Ther nas but Grekes blood; and Troilus, + Now hem he hurte, and hem alle doun he caste; + Ay where he wente, it was arayed thus: 200 + He was hir deeth, and sheld and lyf for us; + That as that day ther dorste noon with-stonde, + Whyl that he held his blody swerd in honde. + + `Therto he is the freendlieste man + Of grete estat, that ever I saw my lyve; 205 + And wher him list, best felawshipe can + To suche as him thinketh able for to thryve.' + And with that word tho Pandarus, as blyve, + He took his leve, and seyde, `I wol go henne.' + `Nay, blame have I, myn uncle,' quod she thenne. 210 + + `What eyleth yow to be thus wery sone, + And namelich of wommen? Wol ye so? + Nay, sitteth down; by god, I have to done + With yow, to speke of wisdom er ye go.' + And every wight that was a-boute hem tho, 215 + That herde that, gan fer a-wey to stonde, + Whyl they two hadde al that hem liste in honde. + + Whan that hir tale al brought was to an ende, + Of hire estat and of hir governaunce, + Quod Pandarus, `Now is it tyme I wende; 220 + But yet, I seye, aryseth, lat us daunce, + And cast your widwes habit to mischaunce: + What list yow thus your-self to disfigure, + Sith yow is tid thus fair an aventure?' + + `A! Wel bithought! For love of god,' quod she, 225 + `Shal I not witen what ye mene of this?' + `No, this thing axeth layser,' tho quod he, + `And eek me wolde muche greve, y-wis, + If I it tolde, and ye it toke amis. + Yet were it bet my tonge for to stille 230 + Than seye a sooth that were ayeins your wille. + + `For, nece, by the goddesse Minerve, + And Iuppiter, that maketh the thonder ringe, + And by the blisful Venus that I serve, + Ye been the womman in this world livinge, 235 + With-oute paramours, to my wittinge, + That I best love, and lothest am to greve, + And that ye witen wel your-self, I leve.' + + `Y-wis, myn uncle,' quod she, `grant mercy; + Your freendship have I founden ever yit; 240 + I am to no man holden trewely, + So muche as yow, and have so litel quit; + And, with the grace of god, emforth my wit, + As in my gilt I shal you never offende; + And if I have er this, I wol amende. 245 + + `But, for the love of god, I yow beseche, + As ye ben he that I love most and triste, + Lat be to me your fremde manere speche, + And sey to me, your nece, what yow liste:' + And with that word hir uncle anoon hir kiste, 250 + And seyde, `Gladly, leve nece dere, + Tak it for good that I shal seye yow here.' + + With that she gan hir eiyen doun to caste, + And Pandarus to coghe gan a lyte, + And seyde, `Nece, alwey, lo! To the laste, 255 + How-so it be that som men hem delyte + With subtil art hir tales for to endyte, + Yet for al that, in hir entencioun + Hir tale is al for som conclusioun. + + `And sithen thende is every tales strengthe, 260 + And this matere is so bihovely, + What sholde I peynte or drawen it on lengthe + To yow, that been my freend so feithfully?' + And with that word he gan right inwardly + Biholden hir, and loken on hir face, 265 + And seyde, `On suche a mirour goode grace!' + + Than thoughte he thus: `If I my tale endyte + Ought hard, or make a proces any whyle, + She shal no savour han ther-in but lyte, + And trowe I wolde hir in my wil bigyle. 270 + For tendre wittes wenen al be wyle + Ther-as they can nat pleynly understonde; + For-thy hir wit to serven wol I fonde —' + + And loked on hir in a besy wyse, + And she was war that he byheld hir so, 275 + And seyde, `Lord! So faste ye me avyse! + Sey ye me never er now? What sey ye, no?' + `Yes, yes,' quod he, `and bet wole er I go; + But, by my trouthe, I thoughte now if ye + Be fortunat, for now men shal it see. 280 + + `For to every wight som goodly aventure + Som tyme is shape, if he it can receyven; + And if that he wol take of it no cure, + Whan that it commeth, but wilfully it weyven, + Lo, neither cas nor fortune him deceyven, 285 + But right his verray slouthe and wrecchednesse; + And swich a wight is for to blame, I gesse. + + `Good aventure, O bele nece, have ye + Ful lightly founden, and ye conne it take; + And, for the love of god, and eek of me, 290 + Cacche it anoon, lest aventure slake. + What sholde I lenger proces of it make? + Yif me your hond, for in this world is noon, + If that yow list, a wight so wel begoon. + + `And sith I speke of good entencioun, 295 + As I to yow have told wel here-biforn, + And love as wel your honour and renoun + As creature in al this world y-born; + By alle the othes that I have yow sworn, + And ye be wrooth therfore, or wene I lye, 300 + Ne shal I never seen yow eft with ye. + + `Beth nought agast, ne quaketh nat; wher-to? + Ne chaungeth nat for fere so your hewe; + For hardely the werste of this is do; + And though my tale as now be to yow newe, 305 + Yet trist alwey, ye shal me finde trewe; + And were it thing that me thoughte unsittinge, + To yow nolde I no swiche tales bringe.' + + `Now, my good eem, for goddes love, I preye,' + Quod she, `com of, and tel me what it is; 310 + For bothe I am agast what ye wol seye, + And eek me longeth it to wite, y-wis. + For whether it be wel or be amis, + Say on, lat me not in this fere dwelle:' + `So wol I doon; now herkneth, I shal telle: 315 + + `Now, nece myn, the kinges dere sone, + The goode, wyse, worthy, fresshe, and free, + Which alwey for to do wel is his wone, + The noble Troilus, so loveth thee, + That, bot ye helpe, it wol his bane be. 320 + Lo, here is al, what sholde I more seye? + Doth what yow list, to make him live or deye. + + `But if ye lete him deye, I wol sterve; + Have her my trouthe, nece, I nil not lyen; + Al sholde I with this knyf my throte kerve —' 325 + With that the teres braste out of his yen, + And seyde, `If that ye doon us bothe dyen, + Thus giltelees, than have ye fisshed faire; + What mende ye, though that we bothe apeyre? + + `Allas! He which that is my lord so dere, 330 + That trewe man, that noble gentil knight, + That nought desireth but your freendly chere, + I see him deye, ther he goth up-right, + And hasteth him, with al his fulle might, + For to be slayn, if fortune wol assente; 335 + Allas! That god yow swich a beautee sente! + + `If it be so that ye so cruel be, + That of his deeth yow liste nought to recche, + That is so trewe and worthy, as ye see, + No more than of a Iapere or a wrecche, 340 + If ye be swich, your beautee may not strecche + To make amendes of so cruel a dede; + Avysement is good bifore the nede. + + `Wo worth the faire gemme vertulees! + Wo worth that herbe also that dooth no bote! 345 + Wo worth that beautee that is routhelees! + Wo worth that wight that tret ech under fote! + And ye, that been of beautee crop and rote, + If therwith-al in you ther be no routhe, + Than is it harm ye liven, by my trouthe! 350 + + `And also thenk wel that this is no gaude; + For me were lever, thou and I and he + Were hanged, than I sholde been his baude, + As heyghe, as men mighte on us alle y-see: + I am thyn eem, the shame were to me, 355 + As wel as thee, if that I sholde assente, + Thorugh myn abet, that he thyn honour shente. + + `Now understond, for I yow nought requere, + To binde yow to him thorugh no beheste, + But only that ye make him bettre chere 360 + Than ye han doon er this, and more feste, + So that his lyf be saved, at the leste; + This al and som, and playnly our entente; + God help me so, I never other mente. + + `Lo, this request is not but skile, y-wis, 365 + Ne doute of reson, pardee, is ther noon. + I sette the worste that ye dredden this, + Men wolden wondren seen him come or goon: + Ther-ayeins answere I thus a-noon, + That every wight, but he be fool of kinde, 370 + Wol deme it love of freendship in his minde. + + `What? Who wol deme, though he see a man + To temple go, that he the images eteth? + Thenk eek how wel and wysly that he can + Governe him-self, that he no-thing foryeteth, 375 + That, wher he cometh, he prys and thank him geteth; + And eek ther-to, he shal come here so selde, + What fors were it though al the toun behelde? + + `Swich love of freendes regneth al this toun; + And wrye yow in that mantel ever-mo; 380 + And god so wis be my savacioun, + As I have seyd, your beste is to do so. + But alwey, goode nece, to stinte his wo, + So lat your daunger sucred ben a lyte, + That of his deeth ye be nought for to wyte.' 385 + + Criseyde, which that herde him in this wyse, + Thoughte, `I shal fele what he meneth, y-wis.' + `Now, eem,' quod she, `what wolde ye devyse? + What is your reed I sholde doon of this?' + `That is wel seyd,' quod be. `certayn, best is 390 + That ye him love ayein for his lovinge, + As love for love is skilful guerdoninge. + + `Thenk eek, how elde wasteth every houre + In eche of yow a party of beautee; + And therfore, er that age thee devoure, 395 + Go love, for, olde, ther wol no wight of thee. + Lat this proverbe a lore un-to yow be; + "To late y-war, quod Beautee, whan it paste;" + And elde daunteth daunger at the laste. + + `The kinges fool is woned to cryen loude, 400 + Whan that him thinketh a womman bereth hir hye, + "So longe mote ye live, and alle proude, + Til crowes feet be growe under your ye, + And sende yow thanne a mirour in to prye + In whiche that ye may see your face a-morwe!" 405 + Nece, I bidde wisshe yow no more sorwe.' + + With this he stente, and caste adoun the heed, + And she bigan to breste a-wepe anoon, + And seyde, `Allas, for wo! Why nere I deed? + For of this world the feith is al agoon! 410 + Allas! What sholden straunge to me doon, + Whan he, that for my beste freend I wende, + Ret me to love, and sholde it me defende? + + `Allas! I wolde han trusted, doutelees, + That if that I, thurgh my disaventure, 415 + Had loved other him or Achilles, + Ector, or any mannes creature, + Ye nolde han had no mercy ne mesure + On me, but alwey had me in repreve; + This false world, allas! Who may it leve? 420 + + `What? Is this al the Ioye and al the feste? + Is this your reed, is this my blisful cas? + Is this the verray mede of your beheste? + Is al this peynted proces seyd, allas! + Right for this fyn? O lady myn, Pallas! 425 + Thou in this dredful cas for me purveye; + For so astonied am I that I deye!' + + With that she gan ful sorwfully to syke; + `A! May it be no bet?' quod Pandarus; + `By god, I shal no-more come here this wyke, 430 + And god to-forn, that am mistrusted thus; + I see ful wel that ye sette lyte of us, + Or of our deeth! Allas! I woful wrecche! + Mighte he yet live, of me is nought to recche. + + `O cruel god, O dispitouse Marte, 435 + O Furies three of helle, on yow I crye! + So lat me never out of this hous departe, + If that I mente harm or vilanye! + But sith I see my lord mot nedes dye, + And I with him, here I me shryve, and seye 440 + That wikkedly ye doon us bothe deye. + + `But sith it lyketh yow that I be deed, + By Neptunus, that god is of the see, + Fro this forth shal I never eten breed + Til I myn owene herte blood may see; 445 + For certayn, I wole deye as sone as he —' + And up he sterte, and on his wey he raughte, + Til she agayn him by the lappe caughte. + + Criseyde, which that wel neigh starf for fere, + So as she was the ferfulleste wight 450 + That mighte be, and herde eek with hir ere, + And saw the sorwful ernest of the knight, + And in his preyere eek saw noon unright, + And for the harm that mighte eek fallen more, + She gan to rewe and dredde hir wonder sore; 455 + + And thoughte thus, `Unhappes fallen thikke + Alday for love, and in swich maner cas, + As men ben cruel in hem-self and wikke; + And if this man slee here him-self, allas! + In my presence, it wol be no solas. 460 + What men wolde of hit deme I can nat seye; + It nedeth me ful sleyly for to pleye.' + + And with a sorwful syk she seyde thrye, + `A! Lord! What me is tid a sory chaunce! + For myn estat lyth in Iupartye, 465 + And eek myn emes lyf lyth in balaunce; + But nathelees, with goddes governaunce, + I shal so doon, myn honour shal I kepe, + And eek his lyf;' and stinte for to wepe. + + `Of harmes two, the lesse is for to chese; 470 + Yet have I lever maken him good chere + In honour, than myn emes lyf to lese; + Ye seyn, ye no-thing elles me requere?' + `No, wis,' quod he, `myn owene nece dere.' + `Now wel,' quod she, `and I wol doon my peyne; 475 + I shal myn herte ayeins my lust constreyne. + + `But that I nil not holden him in honde, + Ne love a man, ne can I not, ne may + Ayeins my wil; but elles wol I fonde, + Myn honour sauf, plese him fro day to day; 480 + Ther-to nolde I nought ones have seyd nay, + But that I dredde, as in my fantasye; + But cesse cause, ay cesseth maladye. + + `And here I make a protestacioun, + That in this proces if ye depper go, 485 + That certaynly, for no savacioun + Of yow, though that ye sterve bothe two, + Though al the world on o day be my fo, + Ne shal I never on him han other routhe. —' + `I graunte wel,' quod Pandare, `by my trouthe. 490 + + `But may I truste wel ther-to,' quod he, + `That of this thing that ye han hight me here, + Ye wol it holden trewly un-to me?' + `Ye, doutelees,' quod she, `myn uncle dere.' + `Ne that I shal han cause in this matere,' 495 + Quod he, `to pleyne, or after yow to preche?' + `Why, no, parde; what nedeth more speche?' + + Tho fillen they in othere tales glade, + Til at the laste, `O good eem,' quod she tho, + `For love of god, which that us bothe made, 500 + Tel me how first ye wisten of his wo: + Wot noon of hit but ye?' He seyde, `No.' + `Can he wel speke of love?' quod she, `I preye, + Tel me, for I the bet me shal purveye.' + + Tho Pandarus a litel gan to smyle, 505 + And seyde, `By my trouthe, I shal yow telle. + This other day, nought gon ful longe whyle, + In-with the paleys-gardyn, by a welle, + Gan he and I wel half a day to dwelle, + Right for to speken of an ordenaunce, 510 + How we the Grekes myghte disavaunce. + + `Sone after that bigonne we to lepe, + And casten with our dartes to and fro, + Til at the laste he seyde he wolde slepe, + And on the gres a-doun he leyde him tho; 515 + And I after gan rome to and fro + Til that I herde, as that I welk allone, + How he bigan ful wofully to grone. + + `Tho gan I stalke him softely bihinde, + And sikerly, the sothe for to seyne, 520 + As I can clepe ayein now to my minde, + Right thus to Love he gan him for to pleyne; + He seyde, "Lord! Have routhe up-on my peyne, + Al have I been rebel in myn entente; + Now, MEA CULPA, lord! I me repente. 525 + + `"O god, that at thy disposicioun + Ledest the fyn by Iuste purveyaunce, + Of every wight, my lowe confessioun + Accepte in gree, and send me swich penaunce + As lyketh thee, but from desesperaunce, 530 + That may my goost departe awey fro thee, + Thou be my sheld, for thy benignitee. + + `"For certes, lord, so soore hath she me wounded, + That stod in blak, with loking of hir yen, + That to myn hertes botme it is y-sounded, 535 + Thorugh which I woot that I mot nedes dyen; + This is the worste, I dar me not bi-wryen; + And wel the hotter been the gledes rede, + That men hem wryen with asshen pale and dede." + + `With that he smoot his heed adoun anoon, 540 + And gan to motre, I noot what, trewely. + And I with that gan stille awey to goon, + And leet ther-of as no-thing wist hadde I, + And come ayein anoon and stood him by, + And seyde, "A-wake, ye slepen al to longe; 545 + It semeth nat that love dooth yow longe, + + `"That slepen so that no man may yow wake. + Who sey ever or this so dul a man?" + "Ye, freend," quod he, "do ye your hedes ake + For love, and lat me liven as I can." 550 + But though that he for wo was pale and wan, + Yet made he tho as freshe a countenaunce + As though he shulde have led the newe daunce. + + `This passed forth, til now, this other day, + It fel that I com roming al allone 555 + Into his chaumbre, and fond how that he lay + Up-on his bed; but man so sore grone + Ne herde I never, and what that was his mone, + Ne wist I nought; for, as I was cominge, + Al sodeynly he lefte his compleyninge. 560 + + `Of which I took somwat suspecioun, + And neer I com, and fond he wepte sore; + And god so wis be my savacioun, + As never of thing hadde I no routhe more. + For neither with engyn, ne with no lore, 565 + Unethes mighte I fro the deeth him kepe; + That yet fele I myn herte for him wepe. + + `And god wot, never, sith that I was born, + Was I so bisy no man for to preche, + Ne never was to wight so depe y-sworn, 570 + Or he me tolde who mighte been his leche. + But now to yow rehersen al his speche, + Or alle his woful wordes for to soune, + Ne bid me not, but ye wol see me swowne. + + `But for to save his lyf, and elles nought, 575 + And to non harm of yow, thus am I driven; + And for the love of god that us hath wrought, + Swich chere him dooth, that he and I may liven. + Now have I plat to yow myn herte shriven; + And sin ye woot that myn entente is clene, 580 + Tak hede ther-of, for I non yvel mene. + + `And right good thrift, I prey to god, have ye, + That han swich oon y-caught with-oute net; + And be ye wys, as ye ben fair to see, + Wel in the ring than is the ruby set. 585 + Ther were never two so wel y-met, + Whan ye ben his al hool, as he is youre: + Ther mighty god yet graunte us see that houre!' + + `Nay, therof spak I not, a, ha!' quod she, + `As helpe me god, ye shenden every deel!' 590 + `O mercy, dere nece,' anoon quod he, + `What-so I spak, I mente nought but weel, + By Mars the god, that helmed is of steel; + Now beth nought wrooth, my blood, my nece dere.' + `Now wel,' quod she, `foryeven be it here!' 595 + + With this he took his leve, and hoom he wente; + And lord, he was glad and wel bigoon! + Criseyde aroos, no lenger she ne stente, + But straught in-to hir closet wente anoon, + And sette here doun as stille as any stoon, 600 + And every word gan up and doun to winde, + That he hadde seyd, as it com hir to minde; + + And wex somdel astonied in hir thought, + Right for the newe cas; but whan that she + Was ful avysed, tho fond she right nought 605 + Of peril, why she oughte afered be. + For man may love, of possibilitee, + A womman so, his herte may to-breste, + And she nought love ayein, but-if hir leste. + + But as she sat allone and thoughte thus, 610 + Thascry aroos at skarmish al with-oute, + And men cryde in the strete, `See, Troilus + Hath right now put to flight the Grekes route!' + With that gan al hir meynee for to shoute, + `A! Go we see, caste up the latis wyde; 615 + For thurgh this strete he moot to palays ryde; + + `For other wey is fro the yate noon + Of Dardanus, ther open is the cheyne.' + With that com he and al his folk anoon + An esy pas rydinge, in routes tweyne, 620 + Right as his happy day was, sooth to seyne, + For which, men say, may nought disturbed be + That shal bityden of necessitee. + + This Troilus sat on his baye stede, + Al armed, save his heed, ful richely, 625 + And wounded was his hors, and gan to blede, + On whiche he rood a pas, ful softely; + But swych a knightly sighte, trewely, + As was on him, was nought, with-outen faile, + To loke on Mars, that god is of batayle. 630 + + So lyk a man of armes and a knight + He was to seen, fulfild of heigh prowesse; + For bothe he hadde a body and a might + To doon that thing, as wel as hardinesse; + And eek to seen him in his gere him dresse, 635 + So fresh, so yong, so weldy semed he, + It was an heven up-on him for to see. + + His helm to-hewen was in twenty places, + That by a tissew heng, his bak bihinde, + His sheld to-dasshed was with swerdes and maces, 640 + In which men mighte many an arwe finde + That thirled hadde horn and nerf and rinde; + And ay the peple cryde, `Here cometh our Ioye, + And, next his brother, holdere up of Troye!' + + For which he wex a litel reed for shame, 645 + Whan he the peple up-on him herde cryen, + That to biholde it was a noble game, + How sobreliche he caste doun his yen. + Cryseyda gan al his chere aspyen, + And leet so softe it in hir herte sinke, 650 + That to hir-self she seyde, `Who yaf me drinke?' + + For of hir owene thought she wex al reed, + Remembringe hir right thus, `Lo, this is he + Which that myn uncle swereth he moot be deed, + But I on him have mercy and pitee;' 655 + And with that thought, for pure a-shamed, she + Gan in hir heed to pulle, and that as faste, + Whyl he and al the peple for-by paste, + + And gan to caste and rollen up and doun + With-inne hir thought his excellent prowesse, 660 + And his estat, and also his renoun, + His wit, his shap, and eek his gentillesse; + But most hir favour was, for his distresse + Was al for hir, and thoughte it was a routhe + To sleen swich oon, if that he mente trouthe. 665 + + Now mighte som envyous Iangle thus, + `This was a sodeyn love; how mighte it be + That she so lightly lovede Troilus + Right for the firste sighte; ye, pardee?' + Now who-so seyth so, mote he never thee! 670 + For every thing, a ginning hath it nede + Er al be wrought, with-outen any drede. + + For I sey nought that she so sodeynly + Yaf him hir love, but that she gan enclyne + To lyke him first, and I have told yow why; 675 + And after that, his manhod and his pyne + Made love with-inne hir for to myne, + For which, by proces and by good servyse, + He gat hir love, and in no sodeyn wyse. + + And also blisful Venus, wel arayed, 680 + Sat in hir seventhe hous of hevene tho, + Disposed wel, and with aspectes payed, + To helpen sely Troilus of his wo. + And, sooth to seyn, she nas not al a fo + To Troilus in his nativitee; 685 + God woot that wel the soner spedde he. + + Now lat us stinte of Troilus a throwe, + That rydeth forth, and lat us tourne faste + Un-to Criseyde, that heng hir heed ful lowe, + Ther-as she sat allone, and gan to caste 690 + Wher-on she wolde apoynte hir at the laste, + If it so were hir eem ne wolde cesse, + For Troilus, up-on hir for to presse. + + And, lord! So she gan in hir thought argue + In this matere of which I have yow told, 695 + And what to doon best were, and what eschue, + That plyted she ful ofte in many fold. + Now was hir herte warm, now was it cold, + And what she thoughte somwhat shal I wryte, + As to myn auctor listeth for to endyte. 700 + + She thoughte wel that Troilus persone + She knew by sighte and eek his gentillesse, + And thus she seyde, `Al were it nought to done, + To graunte him love, yet, for his worthinesse, + It were honour, with pley and with gladnesse, 705 + In honestee, with swich a lord to dele, + For myn estat, and also for his hele. + + `Eek, wel wot I my kinges sone is he; + And sith he hath to see me swich delyt, + If I wolde utterly his sighte flee, 710 + Peraunter he mighte have me in dispyt, + Thurgh which I mighte stonde in worse plyt; + Now were I wys, me hate to purchace, + With-outen nede, ther I may stonde in grace? + + `In every thing, I woot, ther lyth mesure. 715 + For though a man forbede dronkenesse, + He nought for-bet that every creature + Be drinkelees for alwey, as I gesse; + Eek sith I woot for me is his distresse, + I ne oughte not for that thing him despyse, 720 + Sith it is so, he meneth in good wyse. + + `And eek I knowe, of longe tyme agoon, + His thewes goode, and that he is not nyce. + Ne avauntour, seyth men, certein, he is noon; + To wys is he to do so gret a vyce; 725 + Ne als I nel him never so cheryce, + That he may make avaunt, by Iuste cause; + He shal me never binde in swiche a clause. + + `Now set a cas, the hardest is, y-wis, + Men mighten deme that he loveth me; 730 + What dishonour were it un-to me, this? + May I him lette of that? Why nay, pardee! + I knowe also, and alday here and see, + Men loven wommen al this toun aboute; + Be they the wers? Why, nay, with-outen doute. 735 + + `I thenk eek how he able is for to have + Of al this noble toun the thriftieste, + To been his love, so she hir honour save; + For out and out he is the worthieste, + Save only Ector, which that is the beste. 740 + And yet his lyf al lyth now in my cure, + But swich is love, and eek myn aventure. + + `Ne me to love, a wonder is it nought; + For wel wot I my-self, so god me spede, + Al wolde I that noon wiste of this thought, 745 + I am oon the fayreste, out of drede, + And goodlieste, who-so taketh hede; + And so men seyn in al the toun of Troye. + What wonder is it though he of me have Ioye? + + `I am myn owene woman, wel at ese, 750 + I thank it god, as after myn estat; + Right yong, and stonde unteyd in lusty lese, + With-outen Ialousye or swich debat; + Shal noon housbonde seyn to me "Chekmat!" + For either they ben ful of Ialousye, 755 + Or maisterful, or loven novelrye. + + `What shal I doon? To what fyn live I thus? + Shal I nat loven, in cas if that me leste? + What, par dieux! I am nought religious! + And though that I myn herte sette at reste 760 + Upon this knight, that is the worthieste, + And kepe alwey myn honour and my name, + By alle right, it may do me no shame.' + + But right as whan the sonne shyneth brighte, + In March, that chaungeth ofte tyme his face, 765 + And that a cloud is put with wind to flighte + Which over-sprat the sonne as for a space, + A cloudy thought gan thorugh hir soule pace, + That over-spradde hir brighte thoughtes alle, + So that for fere almost she gan to falle. 770 + + That thought was this: `Allas! Sin I am free, + Sholde I now love, and putte in Iupartye + My sikernesse, and thrallen libertee? + Allas! How dorste I thenken that folye? + May I nought wel in other folk aspye 775 + Hir dredful Ioye, hir constreynt, and hir peyne? + Ther loveth noon, that she nath why to pleyne. + + `For love is yet the moste stormy lyf, + Right of him-self, that ever was bigonne; + For ever som mistrust, or nyce stryf, 780 + Ther is in love, som cloud is over that sonne: + Ther-to we wrecched wommen no-thing conne, + Whan us is wo, but wepe and sitte and thinke; + Our wreche is this, our owene wo to drinke. + + `Also these wikked tonges been so prest 785 + To speke us harm, eek men be so untrewe, + That, right anoon as cessed is hir lest, + So cesseth love, and forth to love a newe: + But harm y-doon, is doon, who-so it rewe. + For though these men for love hem first to-rende, 790 + Ful sharp biginning breketh ofte at ende. + + `How ofte tyme hath it y-knowen be, + The treson, that to womman hath be do? + To what fyn is swich love, I can nat see, + Or wher bicometh it, whan it is ago; 795 + Ther is no wight that woot, I trowe so, + Wher it bycomth; lo, no wight on it sporneth; + That erst was no-thing, in-to nought it torneth. + + `How bisy, if I love, eek moste I be + To plesen hem that Iangle of love, and demen, 800 + And coye hem, that they sey non harm of me? + For though ther be no cause, yet hem semen + Al be for harm that folk hir freendes quemen; + And who may stoppen every wikked tonge, + Or soun of belles whyl that they be ronge?' 805 + + And after that, hir thought bigan to clere, + And seyde, `He which that no-thing under-taketh, + No thing ne acheveth, be him looth or dere.' + And with an other thought hir herte quaketh; + Than slepeth hope, and after dreed awaketh; 810 + Now hoot, now cold; but thus, bi-twixen tweye, + She rist hir up, and went hir for to pleye. + + Adoun the steyre anoon-right tho she wente + In-to the gardin, with hir neces three, + And up and doun ther made many a wente, 815 + Flexippe, she, Tharbe, and Antigone, + To pleyen, that it Ioye was to see; + And othere of hir wommen, a gret route, + hir folwede in the gardin al aboute. + + This yerd was large, and rayled alle the aleyes, 820 + And shadwed wel with blosmy bowes grene, + And benched newe, and sonded alle the weyes, + In which she walketh arm in arm bi-twene; + Til at the laste Antigone the shene + Gan on a Troian song to singe clere, 825 + That it an heven was hir voys to here. — + + She seyde, `O love, to whom I have and shal + Ben humble subgit, trewe in myn entente, + As I best can, to yow, lord, yeve ich al + For ever-more, myn hertes lust to rente. 830 + For never yet thy grace no wight sente + So blisful cause as me, my lyf to lede + In alle Ioye and seurtee, out of drede. + + `Ye, blisful god, han me so wel beset + In love, y-wis, that al that bereth lyf 835 + Imaginen ne cowde how to ben bet; + For, lord, with-outen Ialousye or stryf, + I love oon which that is most ententyf + To serven wel, unwery or unfeyned, + That ever was, and leest with harm distreyned. 840 + + `As he that is the welle of worthinesse, + Of trouthe ground, mirour of goodliheed, + Of wit Appollo, stoon of sikernesse, + Of vertu rote, of lust findere and heed, + Thurgh which is alle sorwe fro me deed, 845 + Y-wis, I love him best, so doth he me; + Now good thrift have he, wher-so that he be! + + `Whom sholde I thanke but yow, god of love, + Of al this blisse, in which to bathe I ginne? + And thanked be ye, lord, for that I love! 850 + This is the righte lyf that I am inne, + To flemen alle manere vyce and sinne: + This doth me so to vertu for to entende, + That day by day I in my wil amende. + + `And who-so seyth that for to love is vyce, 855 + Or thraldom, though he fele in it distresse, + He outher is envyous, or right nyce, + Or is unmighty, for his shrewednesse, + To loven; for swich maner folk, I gesse, + Defamen love, as no-thing of him knowe; 860 + Thei speken, but they bente never his bowe. + + `What is the sonne wers, of kinde righte, + Though that a man, for feblesse of his yen, + May nought endure on it to see for brighte? + Or love the wers, though wrecches on it cryen? 865 + No wele is worth, that may no sorwe dryen. + And for-thy, who that hath an heed of verre, + Fro cast of stones war him in the werre! + + `But I with al myn herte and al my might, + As I have seyd, wol love, un-to my laste, 870 + My dere herte, and al myn owene knight, + In which myn herte growen is so faste, + And his in me, that it shal ever laste. + Al dredde I first to love him to biginne, + Now woot I wel, ther is no peril inne.' 875 + + And of hir song right with that word she stente, + And therwith-al, `Now, nece,' quod Criseyde, + `Who made this song with so good entente?' + Antigone answerde anoon, and seyde, + `Ma dame, y-wis, the goodlieste mayde 880 + Of greet estat in al the toun of Troye; + And let hir lyf in most honour and Ioye.' + + `Forsothe, so it semeth by hir song,' + Quod tho Criseyde, and gan ther-with to syke, + And seyde, `Lord, is there swich blisse among 885 + These lovers, as they conne faire endyte?' + `Ye, wis,' quod freshe Antigone the whyte, + `For alle the folk that han or been on lyve + Ne conne wel the blisse of love discryve. + + `But wene ye that every wrecche woot 890 + The parfit blisse of love? Why, nay, y-wis; + They wenen al be love, if oon be hoot; + Do wey, do wey, they woot no-thing of this! + Men mosten axe at seyntes if it is + Aught fair in hevene; Why? For they conne telle; 895 + And axen fendes, is it foul in helle.' + + Criseyde un-to that purpos nought answerde, + But seyde, `Y-wis, it wol be night as faste.' + But every word which that she of hir herde, + She gan to prenten in hir herte faste; 900 + And ay gan love hir lasse for to agaste + Than it dide erst, and sinken in hir herte, + That she wex somwhat able to converte. + + The dayes honour, and the hevenes ye, + The nightes fo, al this clepe I the sonne, 905 + Gan westren faste, and dounward for to wrye, + As he that hadde his dayes cours y-ronne; + And whyte thinges wexen dimme and donne + For lak of light, and sterres for to appere, + That she and al hir folk in wente y-fere. 910 + + So whan it lyked hir to goon to reste, + And voyded weren they that voyden oughte, + She seyde, that to slepe wel hir leste. + Hir wommen sone til hir bed hir broughte. + Whan al was hust, than lay she stille, and thoughte 915 + Of al this thing the manere and the wyse. + Reherce it nedeth nought, for ye ben wyse. + + A nightingale, upon a cedre grene, + Under the chambre-wal ther as she lay, + Ful loude sang ayein the mone shene, 920 + Paraunter, in his briddes wyse, a lay + Of love, that made hir herte fresh and gay. + That herkned she so longe in good entente, + Til at the laste the dede sleep hir hente. + + And as she sleep, anoon-right tho hir mette, 925 + How that an egle, fethered whyt as boon, + Under hir brest his longe clawes sette, + And out hir herte he rente, and that a-noon, + And dide his herte in-to hir brest to goon, + Of which she nought agroos, ne no-thing smerte, 930 + And forth he fleigh, with herte left for herte. + + Now lat hir slepe, and we our tales holde + Of Troilus, that is to paleys riden, + Fro the scarmuch, of the whiche I tolde, + And in his chaumbre sit, and hath abiden 935 + Til two or three of his messages yeden + For Pandarus, and soughten him ful faste, + Til they him founde and broughte him at the laste. + + This Pandarus com leping in at ones, + And seiyde thus: `Who hath ben wel y-bete 940 + To-day with swerdes, and with slinge-stones, + But Troilus, that hath caught him an hete?' + And gan to Iape, and seyde, `Lord, so ye swete! + But rys, and lat us soupe and go to reste;' 944 + And he answerde him, `Do we as thee leste.' + + With al the haste goodly that they mighte, + They spedde hem fro the souper un-to bedde; + And every wight out at the dore him dighte, + And wher him liste upon his wey him spedde; + But Troilus, that thoughte his herte bledde 950 + For wo, til that he herde som tydinge, + He seyde, `Freend, shal I now wepe or singe?' + + Quod Pandarus, `Ly stille and lat me slepe, + And don thyn hood, thy nedes spedde be; + And chese, if thou wolt singe or daunce or lepe; 955 + At shorte wordes, thow shal trowe me. — + Sire, my nece wol do wel by thee, + And love thee best, by god and by my trouthe, + But lak of pursuit make it in thy slouthe. + + `For thus ferforth I have thy work bigonne, 960 + Fro day to day, til this day, by the morwe, + Hir love of freendship have I to thee wonne, + And also hath she leyd hir feyth to borwe. + Algate a foot is hameled of thy sorwe.' + What sholde I lenger sermon of it holde? 965 + As ye han herd bifore, al he him tolde. + + But right as floures, thorugh the colde of night + Y-closed, stoupen on hir stalke lowe, + Redressen hem a-yein the sonne bright, + And spreden on hir kinde cours by rowe, 970 + Right so gan tho his eyen up to throwe + This Troilus, and seyde, `O Venus dere, + Thy might, thy grace, y-heried be it here!' + + And to Pandare he held up bothe his hondes, + And seyde, `Lord, al thyn be that I have; 975 + For I am hool, al brosten been my bondes; + A thousand Troians who so that me yave, + Eche after other, god so wis me save, + Ne mighte me so gladen; lo, myn herte, + It spredeth so for Ioye, it wol to-sterte! 980 + + `But Lord, how shal I doon, how shal I liven? + Whan shal I next my dere herte see? + How shal this longe tyme a-wey be driven, + Til that thou be ayein at hir fro me? + Thou mayst answere, "A-byd, a-byd," but he 985 + That hangeth by the nekke, sooth to seyne, + In grete disese abydeth for the peyne.' + + `Al esily, now, for the love of Marte,' + Quod Pandarus, `for every thing hath tyme; + So longe abyd til that the night departe; 990 + For al so siker as thow lyst here by me, + And god toforn, I wol be there at pryme, + And for thy werk somwhat as I shal seye, + Or on som other wight this charge leye. + + `For pardee, god wot, I have ever yit 995 + Ben redy thee to serve, and to this night + Have I nought fayned, but emforth my wit + Don al thy lust, and shal with al my might. + Do now as I shal seye, and fare a-right; + And if thou nilt, wyte al thy-self thy care, 1000 + On me is nought along thyn yvel fare. + + `I woot wel that thow wyser art than I + A thousand fold, but if I were as thou, + God help me so, as I wolde outrely, + Right of myn owene hond, wryte hir right now 1005 + A lettre, in which I wolde hir tellen how + I ferde amis, and hir beseche of routhe; + Now help thy-self, and leve it not for slouthe. + + `And I my-self shal ther-with to hir goon; + And whan thou wost that I am with hir there, 1010 + Worth thou up-on a courser right anoon, + Ye, hardily, right in thy beste gere, + And ryd forth by the place, as nought ne were, + And thou shalt finde us, if I may, sittinge + At som windowe, in-to the strete lokinge. 1015 + + `And if thee list, than maystow us saluwe, + And up-on me make thy contenaunce; + But, by thy lyf, be war and faste eschuwe + To tarien ought, god shilde us fro mischaunce! + Ryd forth thy wey, and hold thy governaunce; 1020 + And we shal speke of thee som-what, I trowe, + Whan Thou art goon, to do thyne eres glowe! + + `Touching thy lettre, thou art wys y-nough, + I woot thow nilt it digneliche endyte; + As make it with thise argumentes tough; 1025 + Ne scrivenish or craftily thou it wryte; + Beblotte it with thy teres eek a lyte; + And if thou wryte a goodly word al softe, + Though it be good, reherce it not to ofte. + + `For though the beste harpour upon lyve 1030 + Wolde on the beste souned Ioly harpe + That ever was, with alle his fingres fyve, + Touche ay o streng, or ay o werbul harpe, + Were his nayles poynted never so sharpe, + It shulde maken every wight to dulle, 1035 + To here his glee, and of his strokes fulle. + + `Ne Iompre eek no discordaunt thing y-fere, + As thus, to usen termes of phisyk; + In loves termes, hold of thy matere + The forme alwey, and do that it be lyk; 1040 + For if a peyntour wolde peynte a pyk + With asses feet, and hede it as an ape, + It cordeth nought; so nere it but a Iape.' + + This counseyl lyked wel to Troilus; + But, as a dreedful lover, he seyde this: — 1045 + `Allas, my dere brother Pandarus, + I am ashamed for to wryte, y-wis, + Lest of myn innocence I seyde a-mis, + Or that she nolde it for despyt receyve; + Thanne were I deed, ther mighte it no-thing weyve.' 1050 + + To that Pandare answerde, `If thee lest, + Do that I seye, and lat me therwith goon; + For by that lord that formed est and west, + I hope of it to bringe answere anoon + Right of hir hond, and if that thou nilt noon, 1055 + Lat be; and sory mote he been his lyve, + Ayeins thy lust that helpeth thee to thryve.' + + Quod Troilus, `Depardieux, I assente; + Sin that thee list, I will aryse and wryte; + And blisful god preye ich, with good entente, 1060 + The vyage, and the lettre I shal endyte, + So spede it; and thou, Minerva, the whyte, + Yif thou me wit my lettre to devyse:' + And sette him doun, and wroot right in this wyse. — + + First he gan hir his righte lady calle, 1065 + His hertes lyf, his lust, his sorwes leche, + His blisse, and eek these othere termes alle, + That in swich cas these loveres alle seche; + And in ful humble wyse, as in his speche, + He gan him recomaunde un-to hir grace; 1070 + To telle al how, it axeth muchel space. + + And after this, ful lowly he hir prayde + To be nought wrooth, though he, of his folye, + So hardy was to hir to wryte, and seyde, + That love it made, or elles moste he dye, 1075 + And pitously gan mercy for to crye; + And after that he seyde, and ley ful loude, + Him-self was litel worth, and lesse he coude; + + And that she sholde han his conning excused, + That litel was, and eek he dredde hir so, 1080 + And his unworthinesse he ay acused; + And after that, than gan he telle his woo; + But that was endeles, with-outen ho; + And seyde, he wolde in trouthe alwey him holde; — + And radde it over, and gan the lettre folde. 1085 + + And with his salte teres gan he bathe + The ruby in his signet, and it sette + Upon the wex deliverliche and rathe; + Ther-with a thousand tymes, er he lette, + He kiste tho the lettre that he shette, 1090 + And seyde, `Lettre, a blisful destenee + Thee shapen is, my lady shal thee see.' + + This Pandare took the lettre, and that by tyme + A-morwe, and to his neces paleys sterte, + And faste he swoor, that it was passed pryme, 1095 + And gan to Iape, and seyde, `Y-wis, myn herte, + So fresh it is, al-though it sore smerte, + I may not slepe never a Mayes morwe; + I have a Ioly wo, a lusty sorwe.' + + Criseyde, whan that she hir uncle herde, 1100 + With dreedful herte, and desirous to here + The cause of his cominge, thus answerde: + `Now by your feyth, myn uncle,' quod she, `dere, + What maner windes gydeth yow now here? + Tel us your Ioly wo and your penaunce, 1105 + How ferforth be ye put in loves daunce.' + + `By god,' quod he, `I hoppe alwey bihinde!' + And she to-laugh, it thoughte hir herte breste. + Quod Pandarus, `Loke alwey that ye finde + Game in myn hood, but herkneth, if yow leste; 1110 + Ther is right now come in-to toune a geste, + A Greek espye, and telleth newe thinges, + For which I come to telle yow tydinges. + + `Into the gardin go we, and we shal here, + Al prevely, of this a long sermoun.' 1115 + With that they wenten arm in arm y-fere + In-to the gardin from the chaumbre doun. + And whan that he so fer was that the soun + Of that he speke, no man here mighte, + He seyde hir thus, and out the lettre plighte, 1120 + + `Lo, he that is al hoolly youres free + Him recomaundeth lowly to your grace, + And sent to you this lettre here by me; + Avyseth you on it, whan ye han space, + And of som goodly answere yow purchace; 1125 + Or, helpe me god, so pleynly for to seyne, + He may not longe liven for his peyne.' + + Ful dredfully tho gan she stonde stille, + And took it nought, but al hir humble chere + Gan for to chaunge, and seyde, `Scrit ne bille, 1130 + For love of god, that toucheth swich matere, + Ne bring me noon; and also, uncle dere, + To myn estat have more reward, I preye, + Than to his lust; what sholde I more seye? + + `And loketh now if this be resonable, 1135 + And letteth nought, for favour ne for slouthe, + To seyn a sooth; now were it covenable + To myn estat, by god, and by your trouthe, + To taken it, or to han of him routhe, + In harming of my-self or in repreve? 1140 + Ber it a-yein, for him that ye on leve!' + + This Pandarus gan on hir for to stare, + And seyde, `Now is this the grettest wonder + That ever I sey! Lat be this nyce fare! + To deethe mote I smiten be with thonder, 1145 + If, for the citee which that stondeth yonder, + Wolde I a lettre un-to yow bringe or take + To harm of yow; what list yow thus it make? + + `But thus ye faren, wel neigh alle and some, + That he that most desireth yow to serve, 1150 + Of him ye recche leest wher he bicome, + And whether that he live or elles sterve. + But for al that that ever I may deserve, + Refuse it nought,' quod he, and hente hir faste, + And in hir bosom the lettre doun he thraste, 1155 + + And seyde hire, `Now cast it awey anoon, + That folk may seen and gauren on us tweye.' + Quod she, `I can abyde til they be goon,' + And gan to smyle, and seyde hym, `Eem, I preye, + Swich answere as yow list, your-self purveye, 1160 + For trewely I nil no lettre wryte.' + `No? than wol I,' quod he, `so ye endyte.' + + Therwith she lough, and seyde, `Go we dyne.' + And he gan at him-self to iape faste, + And seyde, `Nece, I have so greet a pyne 1165 + For love, that every other day I faste' — + And gan his beste Iapes forth to caste; + And made hir so to laughe at his folye, + That she for laughter wende for to dye. + + And whan that she was comen in-to halle, 1170 + `Now, eem,' quod she, `we wol go dine anoon;' + And gan some of hir women to hir calle, + And streyght in-to hir chaumbre gan she goon; + But of hir besinesses, this was oon + A-monges othere thinges, out of drede, 1175 + Ful prively this lettre for to rede; + + Avysed word by word in every lyne, + And fond no lak, she thoughte he coude good; + And up it putte, and went hir in to dyne. + But Pandarus, that in a study stood, 1180 + Er he was war, she took him by the hood, + And seyde, `Ye were caught er that ye wiste;' + `I vouche sauf,' quod he. `do what yow liste.' + + Tho wesshen they, and sette hem doun and ete; + And after noon ful sleyly Pandarus 1185 + Gan drawe him to the window next the strete, + And seyde, `Nece, who hath arayed thus + The yonder hous, that stant afor-yeyn us?' + `Which hous?' quod she, and gan for to biholde, + And knew it wel, and whos it was him tolde, 1190 + + And fillen forth in speche of thinges smale, + And seten in the window bothe tweye. + Whan Pandarus saw tyme un-to his tale, + And saw wel that hir folk were alle aweye, + `Now, nece myn, tel on,' quod he; `I seye, 1195 + How liketh yow the lettre that ye woot? + Can he ther-on? For, by my trouthe, I noot.' + + Therwith al rosy hewed tho wex she, + And gan to humme, and seyde, `So I trowe.' + `Aquyte him wel, for goddes love,' quod he; 1200 + `My-self to medes wol the lettre sowe.' + And held his hondes up, and sat on knowe, + `Now, goode nece, be it never so lyte, + Yif me the labour, it to sowe and plyte.' + + `Ye, for I can so wryte,' quod she tho; 1205 + `And eek I noot what I sholde to him seye.' + `Nay, nece,' quod Pandare, `sey nat so; + Yet at the leste thanketh him, I preye, + Of his good wil, and doth him not to deye. + Now for the love of me, my nece dere, 1210 + Refuseth not at this tyme my preyere.' + + `Depar-dieux,' quod she, `God leve al be wel! + God help me so, this is the firste lettre + That ever I wroot, ye, al or any del.' + And in-to a closet, for to avyse hir bettre, 1215 + She wente allone, and gan hir herte unfettre + Out of disdaynes prison but a lyte; + And sette hir doun, and gan a lettre wryte, + + Of which to telle in short is myn entente + Theffect, as fer as I can understonde: — 1220 + She thonked him of al that he wel mente + Towardes hir, but holden him in honde + She nolde nought, ne make hir-selven bonde + In love, but as his suster, him to plese, + She wolde fayn to doon his herte an ese. 1225 + + She shette it, and to Pandarus in gan goon, + There as he sat and loked in-to the strete, + And doun she sette hir by him on a stoon + Of Iaspre, up-on a quisshin gold y-bete, + And seyde, `As wisly helpe me god the grete, 1230 + I never dide a thing with more peyne + Than wryte this, to which ye me constreyne;' + + And took it him: He thonked hir and seyde, + `God woot, of thing ful ofte looth bigonne + Cometh ende good; and nece myn, Criseyde, 1235 + That ye to him of hard now ben y-wonne + Oughte he be glad, by god and yonder sonne! + For-why men seyth, "Impressiounes lighte + Ful lightly been ay redy to the flighte.' + + `But ye han pleyed tyraunt neigh to longe, 1240 + And hard was it your herte for to grave; + Now stint, that ye no longer on it honge, + Al wolde ye the forme of daunger save. + But hasteth yow to doon him Ioye have; + For trusteth wel, to longe y-doon hardnesse 1245 + Causeth despyt ful often, for destresse.' + + And right as they declamed this matere, + Lo, Troilus, right at the stretes ende, + Com ryding with his tenthe some y-fere, + Al softely, and thiderward gan bende 1250 + Ther-as they sete, as was his way to wende + To paleys-ward; and Pandare him aspyde, + And seyde, `Nece, y-see who cometh here ryde! + + `O flee not in, he seeth us, I suppose; + Lest he may thinke that ye him eschuwe.' 1255 + `Nay, nay,' quod she, and wex as reed as rose. + With that he gan hir humbly to saluwe + With dreedful chere, and oft his hewes muwe; + And up his look debonairly he caste, + And bekked on Pandare, and forth he paste. 1260 + + God woot if he sat on his hors a-right, + Or goodly was beseyn, that ilke day! + God woot wher he was lyk a manly knight! + What sholde I drecche, or telle of his aray? + Criseyde, which that alle these thinges say, 1265 + To telle in short, hir lyked al y-fere, + His persone, his aray, his look, his chere, + + His goodly manere, and his gentillesse, + So wel, that never, sith that she was born, + Ne hadde she swich routhe of his distresse; 1270 + And how-so she hath hard ben her-biforn, + To god hope I, she hath now caught a thorn, + She shal not pulle it out this nexte wyke; + God sende mo swich thornes on to pyke! + + Pandare, which that stood hir faste by, 1275 + Felte iren hoot, and he bigan to smyte, + And seyde, `Nece, I pray yow hertely, + Tel me that I shal axen yow a lyte: + A womman, that were of his deeth to wyte, + With-outen his gilt, but for hir lakked routhe, 1280 + Were it wel doon?' Quod she, `Nay, by my trouthe!' + + `God help me so,' quod he, `ye sey me sooth. + Ye felen wel your-self that I not lye; + Lo, yond he rit!' Quod she, `Ye, so he dooth!' + `Wel,' quod Pandare, `as I have told yow thrye, 1285 + Lat be youre nyce shame and youre folye, + And spek with him in esing of his herte; + Lat nycetee not do yow bothe smerte.' + + But ther-on was to heven and to done; + Considered al thing, it may not be; 1290 + And why, for shame; and it were eek to sone + To graunten him so greet a libertee. + `For playnly hir entente,' as seyde she, + `Was for to love him unwist, if she mighte, + And guerdon him with no-thing but with sighte.' 1295 + + But Pandarus thoughte, `It shal not be so, + If that I may; this nyce opinioun + Shal not be holden fully yeres two.' + What sholde I make of this a long sermoun? + He moste assente on that conclusioun, 1300 + As for the tyme; and whan that it was eve, + And al was wel, he roos and took his leve. + + And on his wey ful faste homward he spedde, + And right for Ioye he felte his herte daunce; + And Troilus he fond alone a-bedde, 1305 + That lay as dooth these loveres, in a traunce, + Bitwixen hope and derk desesperaunce. + But Pandarus, right at his in-cominge, + He song, as who seyth, `Lo! Sumwhat I bringe,' + + And seyde, `Who is in his bed so sone 1310 + Y-buried thus?' `It am I, freend,' quod he. + `Who, Troilus? Nay, helpe me so the mone,' + Quod Pandarus, `Thou shalt aryse and see + A charme that was sent right now to thee, + The which can helen thee of thyn accesse, 1315 + If thou do forth-with al thy besinesse.' + + `Ye, through the might of god!' quod Troilus. + And Pandarus gan him the lettre take, + And seyde, `Pardee, god hath holpen us; + Have here a light, and loke on al this blake.' 1320 + But ofte gan the herte glade and quake + Of Troilus, whyl that he gan it rede, + So as the wordes yave him hope or drede. + + But fynally, he took al for the beste + That she him wroot, for somwhat he biheld 1325 + On which, him thoughte, he mighte his herte reste, + Al covered she the wordes under sheld. + Thus to the more worthy part he held, + That, what for hope and Pandarus biheste, + His grete wo for-yede he at the leste. 1330 + + But as we may alday our-selven see, + Through more wode or col, the more fyr; + Right so encrees hope, of what it be, + Therwith ful ofte encreseth eek desyr; + Or, as an ook cometh of a litel spyr, 1335 + So through this lettre, which that she him sente, + Encresen gan desyr, of which he brente. + + Wherfore I seye alwey, that day and night + This Troilus gan to desiren more + Than he dide erst, thurgh hope, and dide his might 1340 + To pressen on, as by Pandarus lore, + And wryten to hir of his sorwes sore + Fro day to day; he leet it not refreyde, + That by Pandare he wroot somwhat or seyde; + + And dide also his othere observaunces 1345 + That to a lovere longeth in this cas; + And, after that these dees turnede on chaunces, + So was he outher glad or seyde `Allas!' + And held after his gestes ay his pas; + And aftir swiche answeres as he hadde, 1350 + So were his dayes sory outher gladde. + + But to Pandare alwey was his recours, + And pitously gan ay til him to pleyne, + And him bisoughte of rede and som socours; + And Pandarus, that sey his wode peyne, 1355 + Wex wel neigh deed for routhe, sooth to seyne, + And bisily with al his herte caste + Som of his wo to sleen, and that as faste; + + And seyde, `Lord, and freend, and brother dere, + God woot that thy disese dooth me wo. 1360 + But woltow stinten al this woful chere, + And, by my trouthe, or it be dayes two, + And god to-forn, yet shal I shape it so, + That thou shalt come in-to a certayn place, + Ther-as thou mayst thy-self hir preye of grace. 1365 + + `And certainly, I noot if thou it wost, + But tho that been expert in love it seye, + It is oon of the thinges that furthereth most, + A man to have a leyser for to preye, + And siker place his wo for to biwreye; 1370 + For in good herte it moot som routhe impresse, + To here and see the giltles in distresse. + + `Paraunter thenkestow: though it be so + That kinde wolde doon hir to biginne + To han a maner routhe up-on my wo, 1375 + Seyth Daunger, "Nay, thou shalt me never winne; + So reuleth hir hir hertes goost with-inne, + That, though she bende, yet she stant on rote; + What in effect is this un-to my bote?" + + `Thenk here-ayeins, whan that the sturdy ook, 1380 + On which men hakketh ofte, for the nones, + Receyved hath the happy falling strook, + The grete sweigh doth it come al at ones, + As doon these rokkes or these milne-stones. + For swifter cours cometh thing that is of wighte, 1385 + Whan it descendeth, than don thinges lighte. + + `And reed that boweth doun for every blast, + Ful lightly, cesse wind, it wol aryse; + But so nil not an ook whan it is cast; + It nedeth me nought thee longe to forbyse. 1390 + Men shal reioysen of a greet empryse + Acheved wel, and stant with-outen doute, + Al han men been the lenger ther-aboute. + + `But, Troilus, yet tel me, if thee lest, + A thing now which that I shal axen thee; 1395 + Which is thy brother that thou lovest best + As in thy verray hertes privetee?' + `Y-wis, my brother Deiphebus,' quod he. + `Now,' quod Pandare, `er houres twyes twelve, + He shal thee ese, unwist of it him-selve. 1400 + + `Now lat me allone, and werken as I may,' + Quod he; and to Deiphebus wente he tho + Which hadde his lord and grete freend ben ay; + Save Troilus, no man he lovede so. + To telle in short, with-outen wordes mo, 1405 + Quod Pandarus, `I pray yow that ye be + Freend to a cause which that toucheth me.' + + `Yis, pardee,' quod Deiphebus, `wel thow wost, + In al that ever I may, and god to-fore, + Al nere it but for man I love most, 1410 + My brother Troilus; but sey wherfore + It is; for sith that day that I was bore, + I nas, ne never-mo to been I thinke, + Ayeins a thing that mighte thee for-thinke.' + + Pandare gan him thonke, and to him seyde, 1415 + `Lo, sire, I have a lady in this toun, + That is my nece, and called is Criseyde, + Which some men wolden doon oppressioun, + And wrongfully have hir possessioun: + Wherfor I of your lordship yow biseche 1420 + To been our freend, with-oute more speche.' + + Deiphebus him answerde, `O, is not this, + That thow spekest of to me thus straungely, + Criseyda, my freend?' He seyde, `Yis.' + `Than nedeth,' quod Deiphebus, `hardely, 1425 + Na-more to speke, for trusteth wel, that I + Wol be hir champioun with spore and yerde; + I roughte nought though alle hir foos it herde. + + `But tel me how, thou that woost al this matere, + How I might best avaylen? Now lat see.' 1430 + Quod Pandarus; `If ye, my lord so dere, + Wolden as now don this honour to me, + To preyen hir to-morwe, lo, that she + Come un-to yow hir pleyntes to devyse, + Hir adversaries wolde of it agryse. 1435 + + `And if I more dorste preye as now, + And chargen yow to have so greet travayle, + To han som of your bretheren here with yow, + That mighten to hir cause bet avayle, + Than, woot I wel, she mighte never fayle 1440 + For to be holpen, what at your instaunce, + What with hir othere freendes governaunce.' + + Deiphebus, which that comen was, of kinde, + To al honour and bountee to consente, + Answerde, `It shal be doon; and I can finde 1445 + Yet gretter help to this in myn entente. + What wolt thow seyn, if I for Eleyne sente + To speke of this? I trowe it be the beste; + For she may leden Paris as hir leste. + + `Of Ector, which that is my lord, my brother, 1450 + It nedeth nought to preye him freend to be; + For I have herd him, o tyme and eek other, + Speke of Criseyde swich honour, that he + May seyn no bet, swich hap to him hath she. + It nedeth nought his helpes for to crave; 1455 + He shal be swich, right as we wole him have. + + `Spek thou thy-self also to Troilus + On my bihalve, and pray him with us dyne.' + `Sire, al this shal be doon,' quod Pandarus; + And took his leve, and never gan to fyne, 1460 + But to his neces hous, as streyt as lyne, + He com; and fond hir fro the mete aryse; + And sette him doun, and spak right in this wyse. + + He seyde, `O veray god, so have I ronne! + Lo, nece myn, see ye nought how I swete? 1465 + I noot whether ye the more thank me conne. + Be ye nought war how that fals Poliphete + Is now aboute eft-sones for to plete, + And bringe on yow advocacyes newe?' + `I? No,' quod she, and chaunged al hir hewe. 1470 + + `What is he more aboute, me to drecche + And doon me wrong? What shal I do, allas? + Yet of him-self no-thing ne wolde I recche, + Nere it for Antenor and Eneas, + That been his freendes in swich maner cas; 1475 + But, for the love of god, myn uncle dere, + No fors of that; lat him have al y-fere; + + `With-outen that I have ynough for us.' + `Nay,' quod Pandare, `it shal no-thing be so. + For I have been right now at Deiphebus, 1480 + And Ector, and myne othere lordes mo, + And shortly maked eche of hem his fo; + That, by my thrift, he shal it never winne + For ought he can, whan that so he biginne.' + + And as they casten what was best to done, 1485 + Deiphebus, of his owene curtasye, + Com hir to preye, in his propre persone, + To holde him on the morwe companye + At diner, which she nolde not denye, + But goodly gan to his preyere obeye. 1490 + He thonked hir, and wente up-on his weye. + + Whanne this was doon, this Pandare up a-noon, + To telle in short, and forth gan for to wende + To Troilus, as stille as any stoon; + And al this thing he tolde him, word and ende; 1495 + And how that he Deiphebus gan to blende; + And seyde him, `Now is tyme, if that thou conne, + To bere thee wel to-morwe, and al is wonne. + + `Now spek, now prey, now pitously compleyne; + Lat not for nyce shame, or drede, or slouthe; 1500 + Som-tyme a man mot telle his owene peyne; + Bileve it, and she shal han on thee routhe; + Thou shalt be saved by thy feyth, in trouthe. + But wel wot I, thou art now in a drede; + And what it is, I leye, I can arede. 1505 + + `Thow thinkest now, "How sholde I doon al this? + For by my cheres mosten folk aspye, + That for hir love is that I fare a-mis; + Yet hadde I lever unwist for sorwe dye." + Now thenk not so, for thou dost greet folye. 1510 + For I right now have founden o manere + Of sleighte, for to coveren al thy chere. + + `Thow shalt gon over night, and that as blyve, + Un-to Deiphebus hous, as thee to pleye, + Thy maladye a-wey the bet to dryve, 1515 + For-why thou semest syk, soth for to seye. + Sone after that, doun in thy bed thee leye, + And sey, thow mayst no lenger up endure, + And ly right there, and byde thyn aventure. + + `Sey that thy fever is wont thee for to take 1520 + The same tyme, and lasten til a-morwe; + And lat see now how wel thou canst it make, + For, par-dee, syk is he that is in sorwe. + Go now, farwel! And, Venus here to borwe, + I hope, and thou this purpos holde ferme, 1525 + Thy grace she shal fully ther conferme.' + + Quod Troilus, `Y-wis, thou nedelees + Conseylest me, that sykliche I me feyne, + For I am syk in ernest, doutelees, + So that wel neigh I sterve for the peyne.' 1530 + Quod Pandarus, `Thou shalt the bettre pleyne, + And hast the lasse need to countrefete; + For him men demen hoot that men seen swete. + + `Lo, holde thee at thy triste cloos, and I + Shal wel the deer un-to thy bowe dryve.' 1535 + Therwith he took his leve al softely, + And Troilus to paleys wente blyve. + So glad ne was he never in al his lyve; + And to Pandarus reed gan al assente, + And to Deiphebus hous at night he wente. 1540 + + What nedeth yow to tellen al the chere + That Deiphebus un-to his brother made, + Or his accesse, or his siklych manere, + How men gan him with clothes for to lade, + Whan he was leyd, and how men wolde him glade? 1545 + But al for nought; he held forth ay the wyse + That ye han herd Pandare er this devyse. + + But certeyn is, er Troilus him leyde, + Deiphebus had him prayed, over night, + To been a freend and helping to Criseyde. 1550 + God woot, that he it grauntede anon-right, + To been hir fulle freend with al his might. + But swich a nede was to preye him thenne, + As for to bidde a wood man for to renne. + + The morwen com, and neighen gan the tyme 1555 + Of meel-tyd, that the faire quene Eleyne + Shoop hir to been, an houre after the pryme, + With Deiphebus, to whom she nolde feyne; + But as his suster, hoomly, sooth to seyne, + She com to diner in hir playn entente. 1560 + But god and Pandare wiste al what this mente. + + Com eek Criseyde, al innocent of this, + Antigone, hir sister Tarbe also; + But flee we now prolixitee best is, + For love of god, and lat us faste go 1565 + Right to the effect, with-oute tales mo, + Why al this folk assembled in this place; + And lat us of hir saluinges pace. + + Gret honour dide hem Deiphebus, certeyn, + And fedde hem wel with al that mighte lyke. 1570 + But ever-more, `Allas!' was his refreyn, + `My goode brother Troilus, the syke, + Lyth yet"—and therwith-al he gan to syke; + And after that, he peyned him to glade + Hem as he mighte, and chere good he made. 1575 + + Compleyned eek Eleyne of his syknesse + So feithfully, that pitee was to here, + And every wight gan waxen for accesse + A leche anoon, and seyde, `In this manere + Men curen folk; this charme I wol yow lere.' 1580 + But ther sat oon, al list hir nought to teche, + That thoughte, best coude I yet been his leche. + + After compleynt, him gonnen they to preyse, + As folk don yet, whan som wight hath bigonne + To preyse a man, and up with prys him reyse 1585 + A thousand fold yet hyer than the sonne: — + `He is, he can, that fewe lordes conne.' + And Pandarus, of that they wolde afferme, + He not for-gat hir preysing to conferme. + + Herde al this thing Criseyde wel y-nough, 1590 + And every word gan for to notifye; + For which with sobre chere hir herte lough; + For who is that ne wolde hir glorifye, + To mowen swich a knight don live or dye? + But al passe I, lest ye to longe dwelle; 1595 + For for o fyn is al that ever I telle. + + The tyme com, fro diner for to ryse, + And, as hem oughte, arisen everychoon, + And gonne a while of this and that devyse. + But Pandarus brak al this speche anoon, 1600 + And seyde to Deiphebus, `Wole ye goon, + If youre wille be, as I yow preyde, + To speke here of the nedes of Criseyde?' + + Eleyne, which that by the hond hir held, + Took first the tale, and seyde, `Go we blyve;' 1605 + And goodly on Criseyde she biheld, + And seyde, `Ioves lat him never thryve, + That dooth yow harm, and bringe him sone of lyve! + And yeve me sorwe, but he shal it rewe, + If that I may, and alle folk be trewe.' 1610 + + `Tel thou thy neces cas,' quod Deiphebus + To Pandarus, `for thou canst best it telle.' — + `My lordes and my ladyes, it stant thus; + What sholde I lenger,' quod he, `do yow dwelle?' + He rong hem out a proces lyk a belle, 1615 + Up-on hir fo, that highte Poliphete, + So heynous, that men mighte on it spete. + + Answerde of this ech worse of hem than other, + And Poliphete they gonnen thus to warien, + `An-honged be swich oon, were he my brother; 1620 + And so he shal, for it ne may not varien.' + What sholde I lenger in this tale tarien? + Pleynly, alle at ones, they hir highten + To been hir helpe in al that ever they mighten. + + Spak than Eleyne, and seyde, `Pandarus, 1625 + Woot ought my lord, my brother, this matere, + I mene, Ector? Or woot it Troilus?' + He seyde, `Ye, but wole ye now me here? + Me thinketh this, sith Troilus is here, + It were good, if that ye wolde assente, 1630 + She tolde hir-self him al this, er she wente. + + `For he wole have the more hir grief at herte, + By cause, lo, that she a lady is; + And, by your leve, I wol but right in sterte, + And do yow wite, and that anoon, y-wis, 1635 + If that he slepe, or wole ought here of this.' + And in he lepte, and seyde him in his ere, + `God have thy soule, y-brought have I thy bere!' + + To smylen of this gan tho Troilus, + And Pandarus, with-oute rekeninge, 1640 + Out wente anoon to Eleyne and Deiphebus, + And seyde hem, `So there be no taryinge, + Ne more pres, he wol wel that ye bringe + Criseyda, my lady, that is here; + And as he may enduren, he wole here. 1645 + + `But wel ye woot, the chaumbre is but lyte, + And fewe folk may lightly make it warm; + Now loketh ye, (for I wol have no wyte, + To bringe in prees that mighte doon him harm + Or him disesen, for my bettre arm), 1650 + Wher it be bet she byde til eft-sones; + Now loketh ye, that knowen what to doon is. + + `I sey for me, best is, as I can knowe, + That no wight in ne wente but ye tweye, + But it were I, for I can, in a throwe, 1655 + Reherce hir cas unlyk that she can seye; + And after this, she may him ones preye + To ben good lord, in short, and take hir leve; + This may not muchel of his ese him reve. + + `And eek, for she is straunge, he wol forbere 1660 + His ese, which that him thar nought for yow; + Eek other thing that toucheth not to here, + He wol me telle, I woot it wel right now, + That secret is, and for the tounes prow.' + And they, that no-thing knewe of his entente, 1665 + With-oute more, to Troilus in they wente. + + Eleyne, in al hir goodly softe wyse, + Gan him saluwe, and womanly to pleye, + And seyde, `Ywis, ye moste alweyes aryse! + Now fayre brother, beth al hool, I preye!' 1670 + And gan hir arm right over his sholder leye, + And him with al hir wit to recomforte; + As she best coude, she gan him to disporte. + + So after this quod she, `We yow biseke, + My dere brother, Deiphebus and I, 1675 + For love of god, and so doth Pandare eke, + To been good lord and freend, right hertely, + Un-to Criseyde, which that certeinly + Receyveth wrong, as woot wel here Pandare, + That can hir cas wel bet than I declare.' 1680 + + This Pandarus gan newe his tunge affyle, + And al hir cas reherce, and that anoon; + Whan it was seyd, sone after, in a whyle, + Quod Troilus, `As sone as I may goon, + I wol right fayn with al my might ben oon, 1685 + Have god my trouthe, hir cause to sustene.' + `Good thrift have ye,' quod Eleyne the quene. + + Quod Pandarus, `And it your wille be + That she may take hir leve, er that she go?' + `O, elles god for-bede,' tho quod he, 1690 + `If that she vouche sauf for to do so.' + And with that word quod Troilus, `Ye two, + Deiphebus, and my suster leef and dere, + To yow have I to speke of o matere, + + `To been avysed by your reed the bettre': — 1695 + And fond, as hap was, at his beddes heed, + The copie of a tretis and a lettre, + That Ector hadde him sent to axen reed, + If swich a man was worthy to ben deed, + Woot I nought who; but in a grisly wyse 1700 + He preyede hem anoon on it avyse. + + Deiphebus gan this lettre to unfolde + In ernest greet; so did Eleyne the quene; + And rominge outward, fast it gan biholde, + Downward a steyre, in-to an herber grene. 1705 + This ilke thing they redden hem bi-twene; + And largely, the mountaunce of an houre, + Thei gonne on it to reden and to poure. + + Now lat hem rede, and turne we anoon + To Pandarus, that gan ful faste prye 1710 + That al was wel, and out he gan to goon + In-to the grete chambre, and that in hye, + And seyde, `God save al this companye! + Com, nece myn; my lady quene Eleyne + Abydeth yow, and eek my lordes tweyne. 1715 + + `Rys, take with yow your nece Antigone, + Or whom yow list, or no fors, hardily; + The lesse prees, the bet; com forth with me, + And loke that ye thonke humblely + Hem alle three, and, whan ye may goodly 1720 + Your tyme y-see, taketh of hem your leve, + Lest we to longe his restes him bireve.' + + Al innocent of Pandarus entente, + Quod tho Criseyde, `Go we, uncle dere'; + And arm in arm inward with him she wente, 1725 + Avysed wel hir wordes and hir chere; + And Pandarus, in ernestful manere, + Seyde, `Alle folk, for goddes love, I preye, + Stinteth right here, and softely yow pleye. + + `Aviseth yow what folk ben here with-inne, 1730 + And in what plyt oon is, god him amende! + And inward thus ful softely biginne; + Nece, I conjure and heighly yow defende, + On his half, which that sowle us alle sende, + And in the vertue of corounes tweyne, 1735 + Slee nought this man, that hath for yow this peyne! + + `Fy on the devel! Thenk which oon he is, + And in what plyt he lyth; com of anoon; + Thenk al swich taried tyd, but lost it nis! + That wol ye bothe seyn, whan ye ben oon. 1740 + Secoundelich, ther yet devyneth noon + Up-on yow two; come of now, if ye conne; + Whyl folk is blent, lo, al the tyme is wonne! + + `In titering, and pursuite, and delayes, + The folk devyne at wagginge of a stree; 1745 + And though ye wolde han after merye dayes, + Than dar ye nought, and why? For she, and she + Spak swich a word; thus loked he, and he; + Lest tyme I loste, I dar not with yow dele; + Com of therfore, and bringeth him to hele.' 1750 + + But now to yow, ye lovers that ben here, + Was Troilus nought in a cankedort, + That lay, and mighte whispringe of hem here, + And thoughte, `O lord, right now renneth my sort + Fully to dye, or han anoon comfort'; 1755 + And was the firste tyme he shulde hir preye + Of love; O mighty god, what shal he seye? + + Explicit Secundus Liber. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK III. Incipit prohemium tercii libri. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O blisful light of whiche the bemes clere 1 + Adorneth al the thridde hevene faire! + O sonnes lief, O Ioves doughter dere, + Plesaunce of love, O goodly debonaire, + In gentil hertes ay redy to repaire! 5 + O verray cause of hele and of gladnesse, + Y-heried be thy might and thy goodnesse! + + In hevene and helle, in erthe and salte see + Is felt thy might, if that I wel descerne; + As man, brid, best, fish, herbe and grene tree 10 + Thee fele in tymes with vapour eterne. + God loveth, and to love wol nought werne; + And in this world no lyves creature, + With-outen love, is worth, or may endure. + + Ye Ioves first to thilke effectes glade, 15 + Thorugh which that thinges liven alle and be, + Comeveden, and amorous him made + On mortal thing, and as yow list, ay ye + Yeve him in love ese or adversitee; + And in a thousand formes doun him sente 20 + For love in erthe, and whom yow liste, he hente. + + Ye fierse Mars apeysen of his ire, + And, as yow list, ye maken hertes digne; + Algates, hem that ye wol sette a-fyre, + They dreden shame, and vices they resigne; 25 + Ye do hem corteys be, fresshe and benigne, + And hye or lowe, after a wight entendeth; + The Ioyes that he hath, your might him sendeth. + + Ye holden regne and hous in unitee; + Ye soothfast cause of frendship been also; 30 + Ye knowe al thilke covered qualitee + Of thinges which that folk on wondren so, + Whan they can not construe how it may io, + She loveth him, or why he loveth here; + As why this fish, and nought that, comth to were. 35 + + Ye folk a lawe han set in universe, + And this knowe I by hem that loveres be, + That who-so stryveth with yow hath the werse: + Now, lady bright, for thy benignitee, + At reverence of hem that serven thee, 40 + Whos clerk I am, so techeth me devyse + Som Ioye of that is felt in thy servyse. + + Ye in my naked herte sentement + Inhelde, and do me shewe of thy swetnesse. — + Caliope, thy vois be now present, 45 + For now is nede; sestow not my destresse, + How I mot telle anon-right the gladnesse + Of Troilus, to Venus heryinge? + To which gladnes, who nede hath, god him bringe! + + Explicit prohemium Tercii Libri. + + Incipit Liber Tercius. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Lay al this mene whyle Troilus, 50 + Recordinge his lessoun in this manere, + `Ma fey!' thought he, `Thus wole I seye and thus; + Thus wole I pleyne unto my lady dere; + That word is good, and this shal be my chere; + This nil I not foryeten in no wyse.' 55 + God leve him werken as he can devyse! + + And, lord, so that his herte gan to quappe, + Heringe hir come, and shorte for to syke! + And Pandarus, that ledde hir by the lappe, + Com ner, and gan in at the curtin pyke, 60 + And seyde, `God do bote on alle syke! + See, who is here yow comen to visyte; + Lo, here is she that is your deeth to wyte.' + + Ther-with it semed as he wepte almost; + `A ha,' quod Troilus so rewfully, 65 + `Wher me be wo, O mighty god, thow wost! + Who is al there? I se nought trewely.' + `Sire,' quod Criseyde, `it is Pandare and I.' + `Ye, swete herte? Allas, I may nought ryse + To knele, and do yow honour in som wyse.' 70 + + And dressede him upward, and she right tho + Gan bothe here hondes softe upon him leye, + `O, for the love of god, do ye not so + To me,' quod she, `Ey! What is this to seye? + Sire, come am I to yow for causes tweye; 75 + First, yow to thonke, and of your lordshipe eke + Continuance I wolde yow biseke.' + + This Troilus, that herde his lady preye + Of lordship him, wex neither quik ne deed, + Ne mighte a word for shame to it seye, 80 + Al-though men sholde smyten of his heed. + But lord, so he wex sodeinliche reed, + And sire, his lesson, that he wende conne, + To preyen hir, is thurgh his wit y-ronne. + + Cryseyde al this aspyede wel y-nough, 85 + For she was wys, and lovede him never-the-lasse, + Al nere he malapert, or made it tough, + Or was to bold, to singe a fool a masse. + But whan his shame gan somwhat to passe, + His resons, as I may my rymes holde, 90 + I yow wole telle, as techen bokes olde. + + In chaunged vois, right for his verray drede, + Which vois eek quook, and ther-to his manere + Goodly abayst, and now his hewes rede, + Now pale, un-to Criseyde, his lady dere, 95 + With look doun cast and humble yolden chere, + Lo, the alderfirste word that him asterte + Was, twyes, `Mercy, mercy, swete herte!' + + And stinte a whyl, and whan he mighte out-bringe, + The nexte word was, `God wot, for I have, 100 + As feyfully as I have had konninge, + Ben youres, also god so my sowle save; + And shal til that I, woful wight, be grave. + And though I dar ne can un-to yow pleyne, + Y-wis, I suffre nought the lasse peyne. 105 + + `Thus muche as now, O wommanliche wyf, + I may out-bringe, and if this yow displese, + That shal I wreke upon myn owne lyf + Right sone, I trowe, and doon your herte an ese, + If with my deeth your herte I may apese. 110 + But sin that ye han herd me som-what seye, + Now recche I never how sone that I deye.' + + Ther-with his manly sorwe to biholde, + It mighte han maad an herte of stoon to rewe; + And Pandare weep as he to watre wolde, 115 + And poked ever his nece newe and newe, + And seyde, `Wo bigon ben hertes trewe! + For love of god, make of this thing an ende, + Or slee us bothe at ones, er that ye wende.' + + `I? What?' quod she, `By god and by my trouthe, 120 + I noot nought what ye wilne that I seye.' + `I? What?' quod he, `That ye han on him routhe, + For goddes love, and doth him nought to deye.' + `Now thanne thus,' quod she, `I wolde him preye + To telle me the fyn of his entente; 125 + Yet wist I never wel what that he mente.' + + `What that I mene, O swete herte dere?' + Quod Troilus, `O goodly, fresshe free! + That, with the stremes of your eyen clere, + Ye wolde som-tyme freendly on me see, 130 + And thanne agreen that I may ben he, + With-oute braunche of vyce on any wyse, + In trouthe alwey to doon yow my servyse, + + `As to my lady right and chief resort, + With al my wit and al my diligence, 135 + And I to han, right as yow list, comfort, + Under your yerde, egal to myn offence, + As deeth, if that I breke your defence; + And that ye deigne me so muche honoure, + Me to comaunden ought in any houre. 140 + + `And I to ben your verray humble trewe, + Secret, and in my paynes pacient, + And ever-mo desire freshly newe, + To serven, and been y-lyke ay diligent, + And, with good herte, al holly your talent 145 + Receyven wel, how sore that me smerte, + Lo, this mene I, myn owene swete herte.' + + Quod Pandarus, `Lo, here an hard request, + And resonable, a lady for to werne! + Now, nece myn, by natal Ioves fest, 150 + Were I a god, ye sholde sterve as yerne, + That heren wel, this man wol no-thing yerne + But your honour, and seen him almost sterve, + And been so looth to suffren him yow serve.' + + With that she gan hir eyen on him caste 155 + Ful esily, and ful debonairly, + Avysing hir, and hyed not to faste + With never a word, but seyde him softely, + `Myn honour sauf, I wol wel trewely, + And in swich forme as he can now devyse, 160 + Receyven him fully to my servyse, + + `Biseching him, for goddes love, that he + Wolde, in honour of trouthe and gentilesse, + As I wel mene, eek mene wel to me, + And myn honour, with wit and besinesse 165 + Ay kepe; and if I may don him gladnesse, + From hennes-forth, y-wis, I nil not feyne: + Now beeth al hool; no lenger ye ne pleyne. + + `But nathelees, this warne I yow,' quod she, + `A kinges sone al-though ye be, y-wis, 170 + Ye shal na-more have soverainetee + Of me in love, than right in that cas is; + Ne I nil forbere, if that ye doon a-mis, + To wrathen yow; and whyl that ye me serve, + Cherycen yow right after ye deserve. 175 + + `And shortly, dere herte and al my knight, + Beth glad, and draweth yow to lustinesse, + And I shal trewely, with al my might, + Your bittre tornen al in-to swetenesse. + If I be she that may yow do gladnesse, 180 + For every wo ye shal recovere a blisse'; + And him in armes took, and gan him kisse. + + Fil Pandarus on knees, and up his eyen + To hevene threw, and held his hondes hye, + `Immortal god!' quod he, `That mayst nought dyen, 185 + Cupide I mene, of this mayst glorifye; + And Venus, thou mayst maken melodye; + With-outen hond, me semeth that in the towne, + For this merveyle, I here ech belle sowne. + + `But ho! No more as now of this matere, 190 + For-why this folk wol comen up anoon, + That han the lettre red; lo, I hem here. + But I coniure thee, Criseyde, and oon, + And two, thou Troilus, whan thow mayst goon, + That at myn hous ye been at my warninge, 195 + For I ful wel shal shape youre cominge; + + `And eseth ther your hertes right y-nough; + And lat see which of yow shal bere the belle + To speke of love a-right!' ther-with he lough, + `For ther have ye a layser for to telle.' 200 + Quod Troilus, `How longe shal I dwelle + Er this be doon?' Quod he, `Whan thou mayst ryse, + This thing shal be right as I yow devyse.' + + With that Eleyne and also Deiphebus + Tho comen upward, right at the steyres ende; 205 + And Lord, so than gan grone Troilus, + His brother and his suster for to blende. + Quod Pandarus, `It tyme is that we wende; + Tak, nece myn, your leve at alle three, + And lat hem speke, and cometh forth with me.' 210 + + She took hir leve at hem ful thriftily, + As she wel coude, and they hir reverence + Un-to the fulle diden hardely, + And speken wonder wel, in hir absence, + Of hir, in preysing of hir excellence, 215 + Hir governaunce, hir wit; and hir manere + Commendeden, it Ioye was to here. + + Now lat hir wende un-to hir owne place, + And torne we to Troilus a-yein, + That gan ful lightly of the lettre passe 220 + That Deiphebus hadde in the gardin seyn. + And of Eleyne and him he wolde fayn + Delivered been, and seyde that him leste + To slepe, and after tales have reste. + + Eleyne him kiste, and took hir leve blyve, 225 + Deiphebus eek, and hoom wente every wight; + And Pandarus, as faste as he may dryve, + To Troilus tho com, as lyne right; + And on a paillet, al that glade night, + By Troilus he lay, with mery chere, 230 + To tale; and wel was hem they were y-fere. + + Whan every wight was voided but they two, + And alle the dores were faste y-shette, + To telle in short, with-oute wordes mo, + This Pandarus, with-outen any lette, 235 + Up roos, and on his beddes syde him sette, + And gan to speken in a sobre wyse + To Troilus, as I shal yow devyse: + + `Myn alderlevest lord, and brother dere, + God woot, and thou, that it sat me so sore, 240 + When I thee saw so languisshing to-yere, + For love, of which thy wo wex alwey more; + That I, with al my might and al my lore, + Have ever sithen doon my bisinesse + To bringe thee to Ioye out of distresse, 245 + + `And have it brought to swich plyt as thou wost, + So that, thorugh me, thow stondest now in weye + To fare wel, I seye it for no bost, + And wostow which? For shame it is to seye, + For thee have I bigonne a gamen pleye 250 + Which that I never doon shal eft for other, + Al-though he were a thousand fold my brother. + + `That is to seye, for thee am I bicomen, + Bitwixen game and ernest, swich a mene + As maken wommen un-to men to comen; 255 + Al sey I nought, thou wost wel what I mene. + For thee have I my nece, of vyces clene, + So fully maad thy gentilesse triste, + That al shal been right as thy-selve liste. + + `But god, that al wot, take I to witnesse, 260 + That never I this for coveityse wroughte, + But only for to abregge that distresse, + For which wel nygh thou deydest, as me thoughte. + But, gode brother, do now as thee oughte, + For goddes love, and kep hir out of blame, 265 + Sin thou art wys, and save alwey hir name. + + `For wel thou wost, the name as yet of here + Among the peple, as who seyth, halwed is; + For that man is unbore, I dar wel swere, + That ever wiste that she dide amis. 270 + But wo is me, that I, that cause al this, + May thenken that she is my nece dere, + And I hir eem, and trattor eek y-fere! + + `And were it wist that I, through myn engyn, + Hadde in my nece y-put this fantasye, 275 + To do thy lust, and hoolly to be thyn, + Why, al the world up-on it wolde crye, + And seye, that I the worste trecherye + Dide in this cas, that ever was bigonne, + And she for-lost, and thou right nought y-wonne. 280 + + `Wher-fore, er I wol ferther goon a pas, + Yet eft I thee biseche and fully seye, + That privetee go with us in this cas; + That is to seye, that thou us never wreye; + And be nought wrooth, though I thee ofte preye 285 + To holden secree swich an heigh matere; + For skilful is, thow wost wel, my preyere. + + `And thenk what wo ther hath bitid er this, + For makinge of avantes, as men rede; + And what mischaunce in this world yet ther is, 290 + Fro day to day, right for that wikked dede; + For which these wyse clerkes that ben dede + Han ever yet proverbed to us yonge, + That "Firste vertu is to kepe tonge." + + `And, nere it that I wilne as now tabregge 295 + Diffusioun of speche, I coude almost + A thousand olde stories thee alegge + Of wommen lost, thorugh fals and foles bost; + Proverbes canst thy-self y-nowe, and wost, + Ayeins that vyce, for to been a labbe, 300 + Al seyde men sooth as often as they gabbe. + + `O tonge, allas! So often here-biforn + Hastow made many a lady bright of hewe + Seyd, "Welawey! The day that I was born!" + And many a maydes sorwes for to newe; 305 + And, for the more part, al is untrewe + That men of yelpe, and it were brought to preve; + Of kinde non avauntour is to leve. + + `Avauntour and a lyere, al is on; + As thus: I pose, a womman graunte me 310 + Hir love, and seyth that other wol she non, + And I am sworn to holden it secree, + And after I go telle it two or three; + Y-wis, I am avauntour at the leste, + And lyere, for I breke my biheste. 315 + + `Now loke thanne, if they be nought to blame, + Swich maner folk; what shal I clepe hem, what, + That hem avaunte of wommen, and by name, + That never yet bihighte hem this ne that, + Ne knewe hem more than myn olde hat? 320 + No wonder is, so god me sende hele, + Though wommen drede with us men to dele. + + `I sey not this for no mistrust of yow, + Ne for no wys man, but for foles nyce, + And for the harm that in the world is now, 325 + As wel for foly ofte as for malyce; + For wel wot I, in wyse folk, that vyce + No womman drat, if she be wel avysed; + For wyse ben by foles harm chastysed. + + `But now to purpos; leve brother dere, 330 + Have al this thing that I have seyd in minde, + And keep thee clos, and be now of good chere, + For at thy day thou shalt me trewe finde. + I shal thy proces sette in swich a kinde, + And god to-forn, that it shall thee suffyse, 335 + For it shal been right as thou wolt devyse. + + `For wel I woot, thou menest wel, parde; + Therfore I dar this fully undertake. + Thou wost eek what thy lady graunted thee, + And day is set, the chartres up to make. 340 + Have now good night, I may no lenger wake; + And bid for me, sin thou art now in blisse, + That god me sende deeth or sone lisse.' + + Who mighte telle half the Ioye or feste + Which that the sowle of Troilus tho felte, 345 + Heringe theffect of Pandarus biheste? + His olde wo, that made his herte swelte, + Gan tho for Ioye wasten and to-melte, + And al the richesse of his sykes sore + At ones fledde, he felte of hem no more. 350 + + But right so as these holtes and these hayes, + That han in winter dede been and dreye, + Revesten hem in grene, whan that May is, + Whan every lusty lyketh best to pleye; + Right in that selve wyse, sooth to seye, 355 + Wax sodeynliche his herte ful of Ioye, + That gladder was ther never man in Troye. + + And gan his look on Pandarus up caste + Ful sobrely, and frendly for to see, + And seyde, `Freend, in Aprille the laste, 360 + As wel thou wost, if it remembre thee, + How neigh the deeth for wo thou founde me; + And how thou didest al thy bisinesse + To knowe of me the cause of my distresse. + + `Thou wost how longe I it for-bar to seye 365 + To thee, that art the man that I best triste; + And peril was it noon to thee by-wreye, + That wiste I wel; but tel me, if thee liste, + Sith I so looth was that thy-self it wiste, + How dorst I mo tellen of this matere, 370 + That quake now, and no wight may us here? + + `But natheles, by that god I thee swere, + That, as him list, may al this world governe, + And, if I lye, Achilles with his spere + Myn herte cleve, al were my lyf eterne, 375 + As I am mortal, if I late or yerne + Wolde it biwreye, or dorste, or sholde conne, + For al the good that god made under sonne; + + `That rather deye I wolde, and determyne, + As thinketh me, now stokked in presoun, 380 + In wrecchednesse, in filthe, and in vermyne, + Caytif to cruel king Agamenoun; + And this, in alle the temples of this toun + Upon the goddes alle, I wol thee swere, + To-morwe day, if that thee lyketh here. 385 + + `And that thou hast so muche y-doon for me, + That I ne may it never-more deserve, + This knowe I wel, al mighte I now for thee + A thousand tymes on a morwen sterve. + I can no more, but that I wol thee serve 390 + Right as thy sclave, whider-so thou wende, + For ever-more, un-to my lyves ende! + + `But here, with al myn herte, I thee biseche, + That never in me thou deme swich folye + As I shal seyn; me thoughte, by thy speche, 395 + That this, which thou me dost for companye, + I sholde wene it were a bauderye; + I am nought wood, al-if I lewed be; + It is not so, that woot I wel, pardee. + + `But he that goth, for gold or for richesse, 400 + On swich message, calle him what thee list; + And this that thou dost, calle it gentilesse, + Compassioun, and felawship, and trist; + Departe it so, for wyde-where is wist + How that there is dyversitee requered 405 + Bitwixen thinges lyke, as I have lered. + + `And, that thou knowe I thenke nought ne wene + That this servyse a shame be or Iape, + I have my faire suster Polixene, + Cassandre, Eleyne, or any of the frape; 410 + Be she never so faire or wel y-shape, + Tel me, which thou wilt of everichone, + To han for thyn, and lat me thanne allone. + + `But, sith that thou hast don me this servyse + My lyf to save, and for noon hope of mede, 415 + So, for the love of god, this grete empryse + Performe it out; for now is moste nede. + For high and low, with-outen any drede, + I wol alwey thyne hestes alle kepe; + Have now good night, and lat us bothe slepe.' 420 + + Thus held him ech of other wel apayed, + That al the world ne mighte it bet amende; + And, on the morwe, whan they were arayed, + Ech to his owene nedes gan entende. + But Troilus, though as the fyr he brende 425 + For sharp desyr of hope and of plesaunce, + He not for-gat his gode governaunce. + + But in him-self with manhod gan restreyne + Ech rakel dede and ech unbrydled chere, + That alle tho that liven, sooth to seyne, 430 + Ne sholde han wist, by word or by manere, + What that he mente, as touching this matere. + From every wight as fer as is the cloude + He was, so wel dissimulen he coude. + + And al the whyl which that I yow devyse, 435 + This was his lyf; with al his fulle might, + By day he was in Martes high servyse, + This is to seyn, in armes as a knight; + And for the more part, the longe night + He lay, and thoughte how that he mighte serve 440 + His lady best, hir thank for to deserve. + + Nil I nought swere, al-though he lay softe, + That in his thought he nas sumwhat disesed, + Ne that he tornede on his pilwes ofte, + And wolde of that him missed han ben sesed; 445 + But in swich cas men is nought alwey plesed, + For ought I wot, no more than was he; + That can I deme of possibilitee. + + But certeyn is, to purpos for to go, + That in this whyle, as writen is in geste, 450 + He say his lady som-tyme; and also + She with him spak, whan that she dorste or leste, + And by hir bothe avys, as was the beste, + Apoynteden ful warly in this nede, + So as they dorste, how they wolde procede. 455 + + But it was spoken in so short a wyse, + In swich awayt alwey, and in swich fere, + Lest any wyght devynen or devyse + Wolde of hem two, or to it leye an ere, + That al this world so leef to hem ne were 460 + As that Cupido wolde hem grace sende + To maken of hir speche aright an ende. + + But thilke litel that they spake or wroughte, + His wyse goost took ay of al swich hede, + It semed hir, he wiste what she thoughte 465 + With-outen word, so that it was no nede + To bidde him ought to done, or ought for-bede; + For which she thought that love, al come it late, + Of alle Ioye hadde opned hir the yate. + + And shortly of this proces for to pace, 470 + So wel his werk and wordes he bisette, + That he so ful stood in his lady grace, + That twenty thousand tymes, or she lette, + She thonked god she ever with him mette; + So coude he him governe in swich servyse, 475 + That al the world ne might it bet devyse. + + For-why she fond him so discreet in al, + So secret, and of swich obeisaunce, + That wel she felte he was to hir a wal + Of steel, and sheld from every displesaunce; 480 + That, to ben in his gode governaunce, + So wys he was, she was no more afered, + I mene, as fer as oughte ben requered. + + And Pandarus, to quike alwey the fyr, + Was evere y-lyke prest and diligent; 485 + To ese his frend was set al his desyr. + He shof ay on, he to and fro was sent; + He lettres bar whan Troilus was absent. + That never man, as in his freendes nede, + Ne bar him bet than he, with-outen drede. 490 + + But now, paraunter, som man wayten wolde + That every word, or sonde, or look, or chere + Of Troilus that I rehersen sholde, + In al this whyle un-to his lady dere; + I trowe it were a long thing for to here; 495 + Or of what wight that stant in swich disioynte, + His wordes alle, or every look, to poynte. + + For sothe, I have not herd it doon er this, + In storye noon, ne no man here, I wene; + And though I wolde I coude not, y-wis; 500 + For ther was som epistel hem bitwene, + That wolde, as seyth myn auctor, wel contene + Neigh half this book, of which him list not wryte; + How sholde I thanne a lyne of it endyte? + + But to the grete effect: than sey I thus, 505 + That stonding in concord and in quiete, + Thise ilke two, Criseyde and Troilus, + As I have told, and in this tyme swete, + Save only often mighte they not mete, + Ne layser have hir speches to fulfelle, 510 + That it befel right as I shal yow telle. + + That Pandarus, that ever dide his might + Right for the fyn that I shal speke of here, + As for to bringe to his hous som night + His faire nece, and Troilus y-fere, 515 + Wher-as at leyser al this heigh matere, + Touching hir love, were at the fulle up-bounde, + Hadde out of doute a tyme to it founde. + + For he with greet deliberacioun + Hadde every thing that her-to mighte avayle 520 + Forn-cast, and put in execucioun. + And neither laft, for cost ne for travayle; + Come if hem list, hem sholde no-thing fayle; + And for to been in ought espyed there, + That, wiste he wel, an inpossible were. 525 + + Dredelees, it cleer was in the wind + Of every pye and every lette-game; + Now al is wel, for al the world is blind + In this matere, bothe fremed and tame. + This timbur is al redy up to frame; 530 + Us lakketh nought but that we witen wolde + A certein houre, in which she comen sholde. + + And Troilus, that al this purveyaunce + Knew at the fulle, and waytede on it ay, + Hadde here-up-on eek made gret ordenaunce, 535 + And founde his cause, and ther-to his aray, + If that he were missed, night or day, + Ther-whyle he was aboute this servyse, + That he was goon to doon his sacrifyse, + + And moste at swich a temple alone wake, 540 + Answered of Appollo for to be; + And first to seen the holy laurer quake, + Er that Apollo spak out of the tree, + To telle him next whan Grekes sholden flee, + And forthy lette him no man, god forbede, 545 + But preye Apollo helpen in this nede. + + Now is ther litel more for to doone, + But Pandare up, and shortly for to seyne, + Right sone upon the chaunging of the mone, + Whan lightles is the world a night or tweyne, 550 + And that the welken shoop him for to reyne, + He streight a-morwe un-to his nece wente; + Ye han wel herd the fyn of his entente. + + Whan he was come, he gan anoon to pleye + As he was wont, and of him-self to Iape; 555 + And fynally, he swor and gan hir seye, + By this and that, she sholde him not escape, + Ne lengere doon him after hir to gape; + But certeynly she moste, by hir leve, + Come soupen in his hous with him at eve. 560 + + At whiche she lough, and gan hir faste excuse, + And seyde, `It rayneth; lo, how sholde I goon?' + `Lat be,' quod he, `ne stond not thus to muse; + This moot be doon, ye shal be ther anoon.' + So at the laste her-of they felle at oon, 565 + Or elles, softe he swor hir in hir ere, + He nolde never come ther she were. + + Sone after this, to him she gan to rowne, + And asked him if Troilus were there? + He swor hir, `Nay, for he was out of towne,' 570 + And seyde, `Nece, I pose that he were, + Yow thurfte never have the more fere. + For rather than men mighte him ther aspye, + Me were lever a thousand-fold to dye.' + + Nought list myn auctor fully to declare 575 + What that she thoughte whan he seyde so, + That Troilus was out of town y-fare, + As if he seyde ther-of sooth or no; + But that, with-outen awayt, with him to go, + She graunted him, sith he hir that bisoughte 580 + And, as his nece, obeyed as hir oughte. + + But nathelees, yet gan she him biseche, + Al-though with him to goon it was no fere, + For to be war of goosish peples speche, + That dremen thinges whiche that never were, 585 + And wel avyse him whom he broughte there; + And seyde him, `Eem, sin I mot on yow triste, + Loke al be wel, and do now as yow liste.' + + He swor hire, `Yis, by stokkes and by stones, + And by the goddes that in hevene dwelle, 590 + Or elles were him levere, soule and bones, + With Pluto king as depe been in helle + As Tantalus!' What sholde I more telle? + Whan al was wel, he roos and took his leve, + And she to souper com, whan it was eve, 595 + + With a certayn of hir owene men, + And with hir faire nece Antigone, + And othere of hir wommen nyne or ten; + But who was glad now, who, as trowe ye, + But Troilus, that stood and mighte it see 600 + Thurgh-out a litel windowe in a stewe, + Ther he bishet, sin midnight, was in mewe, + + Unwist of every wight but of Pandare? + But to the poynt; now whan that she was y-come + With alle Ioye, and alle frendes fare, 605 + Hir em anoon in armes hath hir nome, + And after to the souper, alle and some, + Whan tyme was, ful softe they hem sette; + God wot, ther was no deyntee for to fette. + + And after souper gonnen they to ryse, 610 + At ese wel, with hertes fresshe and glade, + And wel was him that coude best devyse + To lyken hir, or that hir laughen made. + He song; she pleyde; he tolde tale of Wade. + But at the laste, as every thing hath ende, 615 + She took hir leve, and nedes wolde wende. + + But O, Fortune, executrice of wierdes, + O influences of thise hevenes hye! + Soth is, that, under god, ye ben our hierdes, + Though to us bestes been the causes wrye. 620 + This mene I now, for she gan hoomward hye, + But execut was al bisyde hir leve, + At the goddes wil, for which she moste bleve. + + The bente mone with hir hornes pale, + Saturne, and Iove, in Cancro ioyned were, 625 + That swich a rayn from hevene gan avale + That every maner womman that was there + Hadde of that smoky reyn a verray fere; + At which Pandare tho lough, and seyde thenne, + `Now were it tyme a lady to go henne! 630 + + `But goode nece, if I mighte ever plese + Yow any-thing, than prey I yow,' quod he, + `To doon myn herte as now so greet an ese + As for to dwelle here al this night with me, + For-why this is your owene hous, pardee. 635 + For, by my trouthe, I sey it nought a-game, + To wende as now, it were to me a shame.' + + Criseyde, which that coude as muche good + As half a world, tok hede of his preyere; + And sin it ron, and al was on a flood, 640 + She thoughte, as good chep may I dwellen here, + And graunte it gladly with a freendes chere, + And have a thank, as grucche and thanne abyde; + For hoom to goon, it may nought wel bityde.' + + `I wol,' quod she, `myn uncle leef and dere, 645 + Sin that yow list, it skile is to be so; + I am right glad with yow to dwellen here; + I seyde but a-game, I wolde go.' + `Y-wis, graunt mercy, nece!' quod he tho; + `Were it a game or no, soth for to telle, 650 + Now am I glad, sin that yow list to dwelle.' + + Thus al is wel; but tho bigan aright + The newe Ioye, and al the feste agayn; + But Pandarus, if goodly hadde he might, + He wolde han hyed hir to bedde fayn, 655 + And seyde, `Lord, this is an huge rayn! + This were a weder for to slepen inne; + And that I rede us sonE to biginne. + + `And nece, woot ye wher I wol yow leye, + For that we shul not liggen fer asonder, 660 + And for ye neither shullen, dar I seye, + Heren noise of reynes nor of thondre? + By god, right in my lyte closet yonder. + And I wol in that outer hous allone + Be wardeyn of your wommen everichone. 665 + + `And in this middel chaumbre that ye see + Shal youre wommen slepen wel and softe; + And ther I seyde shal your-selve be; + And if ye liggen wel to-night, com ofte, + And careth not what weder is on-lofte. 670 + The wyn anon, and whan so that yow leste, + So go we slepe, I trowe it be the beste.' + + Ther nis no more, but here-after sone, + The voyde dronke, and travers drawe anon, + Gan every wight, that hadde nought to done 675 + More in the place, out of the chaumber gon. + And ever-mo so sternelich it ron, + And blew ther-with so wonderliche loude, + That wel neigh no man heren other coude. + + Tho Pandarus, hir eem, right as him oughte, 680 + With women swiche as were hir most aboute, + Ful glad un-to hir beddes syde hir broughte, + And toke his leve, and gan ful lowe loute, + And seyde, `Here at this closet-dore with-oute, + Right over-thwart, your wommen liggen alle, 685 + That, whom yow list of hem, ye may here calle.' + + So whan that she was in the closet leyd, + And alle hir wommen forth by ordenaunce + A-bedde weren, ther as I have seyd, + There was no more to skippen nor to traunce, 690 + But boden go to bedde, with mischaunce, + If any wight was steringe any-where, + And late hem slepe that a-bedde were. + + But Pandarus, that wel coude eche a del + The olde daunce, and every poynt ther-inne, 695 + Whan that he sey that alle thing was wel, + He thoughte he wolde up-on his werk biginne, + And gan the stewe-dore al softe un-pinne; + And stille as stoon, with-outen lenger lette, + By Troilus a-doun right he him sette. 700 + + And, shortly to the poynt right for to gon, + Of al this werk he tolde him word and ende, + And seyde, `Make thee redy right anon, + For thou shalt in-to hevene blisse wende.' + `Now blisful Venus, thou me grace sende,' 705 + Quod Troilus, `for never yet no nede + Hadde I er now, ne halvendel the drede.' + + Quod Pandarus, `Ne drede thee never a del, + For it shal been right as thou wilt desyre; + So thryve I, this night shal I make it wel, 710 + Or casten al the gruwel in the fyre.' + `Yit blisful Venus, this night thou me enspyre,' + Quod Troilus, `as wis as I thee serve, + And ever bet and bet shal, til I sterve. + + `And if I hadde, O Venus ful of murthe, 715 + Aspectes badde of Mars or of Saturne, + Or thou combust or let were in my birthe, + Thy fader prey al thilke harm disturne + Of grace, and that I glad ayein may turne, + For love of him thou lovedest in the shawe, 720 + I mene Adoon, that with the boor was slawe. + + `O Iove eek, for the love of faire Europe, + The whiche in forme of bole awey thou fette; + Now help, O Mars, thou with thy blody cope, + For love of Cipris, thou me nought ne lette; 725 + O Phebus, thenk whan Dane hir-selven shette + Under the bark, and laurer wex for drede, + Yet for hir love, O help now at this nede! + + `Mercurie, for the love of Hierse eke, + For which Pallas was with Aglauros wrooth, 730 + Now help, and eek Diane, I thee biseke + That this viage be not to thee looth. + O fatal sustren, which, er any clooth + Me shapen was, my destene me sponne, + So helpeth to this werk that is bi-gonne!' 735 + + Quod Pandarus, `Thou wrecched mouses herte, + Art thou agast so that she wol thee byte? + Why, don this furred cloke up-on thy sherte, + And folowe me, for I wol have the wyte; + But byd, and lat me go bifore a lyte.' 740 + And with that word he gan un-do a trappe, + And Troilus he broughte in by the lappe. + + The sterne wind so loude gan to route + That no wight other noyse mighte here; + And they that layen at the dore with-oute, 745 + Ful sykerly they slepten alle y-fere; + And Pandarus, with a ful sobre chere, + Goth to the dore anon with-outen lette, + Ther-as they laye, and softely it shette. + + And as he com ayeinward prively, 750 + His nece awook, and asked, `Who goth there?' + `My dere nece,' quod he, `it am I; + Ne wondreth not, ne have of it no fere;' + And ner he com, and seyde hir in hir ere, + `No word, for love of god I yow biseche; 755 + Lat no wight ryse and heren of oure speche.' + + `What! Which wey be ye comen, benedicite?' + Quod she; `And how thus unwist of hem alle?' + `Here at this secre trappe-dore,' quod he. + Quod tho Criseyde, `Lat me som wight calle.' 760 + `Ey! God forbede that it sholde falle,' + Quod Pandarus, `that ye swich foly wroughte! + They mighte deme thing they never er thoughte! + + `It is nought good a sleping hound to wake, + Ne yeve a wight a cause to devyne; 765 + Your wommen slepen alle, I under-take, + So that, for hem, the hous men mighte myne; + And slepen wolen til the sonne shyne. + And whan my tale al brought is to an ende, + Unwist, right as I com, so wol I wende. 770 + + `Now, nece myn, ye shul wel understonde,' + Quod he, `so as ye wommen demen alle, + That for to holde in love a man in honde, + And him hir "leef" and "dere herte" calle, + And maken him an howve above a calle, 775 + I mene, as love an other in this whyle, + She doth hir-self a shame, and him a gyle. + + `Now wherby that I telle yow al this? + Ye woot your-self, as wel as any wight, + How that your love al fully graunted is 780 + To Troilus, the worthieste knight, + Oon of this world, and ther-to trouthe plyght, + That, but it were on him along, ye nolde + Him never falsen, whyle ye liven sholde. + + `Now stant it thus, that sith I fro yow wente, 785 + This Troilus, right platly for to seyn, + Is thurgh a goter, by a prive wente, + In-to my chaumbre come in al this reyn, + Unwist of every maner wight, certeyn, + Save of my-self, as wisly have I Ioye, 790 + And by that feith I shal Pryam of Troye! + + `And he is come in swich peyne and distresse + That, but he be al fully wood by this, + He sodeynly mot falle in-to wodnesse, + But-if god helpe; and cause why this is, 795 + He seyth him told is, of a freend of his, + How that ye sholde love oon that hatte Horaste, + For sorwe of which this night shalt been his laste.' + + Criseyde, which that al this wonder herde, + Gan sodeynly aboute hir herte colde, 800 + And with a syk she sorwfully answerde, + `Allas! I wende, who-so tales tolde, + My dere herte wolde me not holde + So lightly fals! Allas! Conceytes wronge, + What harm they doon, for now live I to longe! 805 + + `Horaste! Allas! And falsen Troilus? + I knowe him not, god helpe me so,' quod she; + `Allas! What wikked spirit tolde him thus? + Now certes, eem, to-morwe, and I him see, + I shal ther-of as ful excusen me 810 + As ever dide womman, if him lyke'; + And with that word she gan ful sore syke. + + `O god!' quod she, `So worldly selinesse, + Which clerkes callen fals felicitee, + Y-medled is with many a bitternesse! 815 + Ful anguisshous than is, god woot,' quod she, + `Condicioun of veyn prosperitee; + For either Ioyes comen nought y-fere, + Or elles no wight hath hem alwey here. + + `O brotel wele of mannes Ioye unstable! 820 + With what wight so thou be, or how thou pleye, + Either he woot that thou, Ioye, art muable, + Or woot it not, it moot ben oon of tweye; + Now if he woot it not, how may he seye + That he hath verray Ioye and selinesse, 825 + That is of ignoraunce ay in derknesse? + + `Now if he woot that Ioye is transitorie, + As every Ioye of worldly thing mot flee, + Than every tyme he that hath in memorie, + The drede of lesing maketh him that he 830 + May in no perfit selinesse be. + And if to lese his Ioye he set a myte, + Than semeth it that Ioye is worth ful lyte. + + `Wherfore I wol deffyne in this matere, + That trewely, for ought I can espye, 835 + Ther is no verray wele in this world here. + But O, thou wikked serpent, Ialousye, + Thou misbeleved and envious folye, + Why hastow Troilus me mad untriste, + That never yet agilte him, that I wiste?' 840 + + Quod Pandarus, `Thus fallen is this cas.' + `Why, uncle myn,' quod she, `who tolde him this? + Why doth my dere herte thus, allas?' + `Ye woot, ye nece myn,' quod he, `what is; + I hope al shal be wel that is amis, 845 + For ye may quenche al this, if that yow leste, + And doth right so, for I holde it the beste.' + + `So shal I do to-morwe, y-wis,' quod she, + `And god to-forn, so that it shal suffyse.' + `To-morwe? Allas, that were a fair!' quod he, 850 + `Nay, nay, it may not stonden in this wyse; + For, nece myn, thus wryten clerkes wyse, + That peril is with drecching in y-drawe; + Nay, swich abodes been nought worth an hawe. + + `Nece, al thing hath tyme, I dar avowe; 855 + For whan a chaumber a-fyr is, or an halle, + Wel more nede is, it sodeynly rescowe + Than to dispute, and axe amonges alle + How is this candele in the straw y-falle? + A! Benedicite! For al among that fare 860 + The harm is doon, and fare-wel feldefare! + + `And, nece myn, ne take it not a-greef, + If that ye suffre him al night in this wo, + God help me so, ye hadde him never leef, + That dar I seyn, now there is but we two; 865 + But wel I woot, that ye wol not do so; + Ye been to wys to do so gret folye, + To putte his lyf al night in Iupertye. + + `Hadde I him never leef? By god, I wene + Ye hadde never thing so leef,' quod she. 870 + `Now by my thrift,' quod he, `that shal be sene; + For, sin ye make this ensample of me, + If I al night wolde him in sorwe see + For al the tresour in the toun of Troye, + I bidde god, I never mote have Ioye! 875 + + `Now loke thanne, if ye, that been his love, + Shul putte al night his lyf in Iupartye + For thing of nought! Now, by that god above, + Nought only this delay comth of folye, + But of malyce, if that I shal nought lye. 880 + What, platly, and ye suffre him in distresse, + Ye neither bountee doon ne gentilesse!' + + Quod tho Criseyde, `Wole ye doon o thing, + And ye therwith shal stinte al his disese? + Have here, and bereth him this blewe ringe, 885 + For ther is no-thing mighte him bettre plese, + Save I my-self, ne more his herte apese; + And sey my dere herte, that his sorwe + Is causeles, that shal be seen to-morwe.' + + `A ring?' quod he, `Ye, hasel-wodes shaken! 890 + Ye nece myn, that ring moste han a stoon + That mighte dede men alyve maken; + And swich a ring trowe I that ye have noon. + Discrecioun out of your heed is goon; + That fele I now,' quod he, `and that is routhe; 895 + O tyme y-lost, wel maystow cursen slouthe! + + `Wot ye not wel that noble and heigh corage + Ne sorweth not, ne stinteth eek for lyte? + But if a fool were in a Ialous rage, + I nolde setten at his sorwe a myte, 900 + But feffe him with a fewe wordes whyte + Another day, whan that I mighte him finde; + But this thing stant al in another kinde. + + `This is so gentil and so tendre of herte, + That with his deeth he wol his sorwes wreke; 905 + For trusteth wel, how sore that him smerte, + He wol to yow no Ialouse wordes speke. + And for-thy, nece, er that his herte breke, + So spek your-self to him of this matere; + For with o word ye may his herte stere. 910 + + `Now have I told what peril he is inne, + And his coming unwist is to every wight; + Ne, pardee, harm may ther be noon, ne sinne; + I wol my-self be with yow al this night. + Ye knowe eek how it is your owne knight, 915 + And that, by right, ye moste upon him triste, + And I al prest to fecche him whan yow liste.' + + This accident so pitous was to here, + And eek so lyk a sooth, at pryme face, + And Troilus hir knight to hir so dere, 920 + His prive coming, and the siker place, + That, though that she dide him as thanne a grace, + Considered alle thinges as they stode, + No wonder is, sin she dide al for gode. + + Cryseyde answerde, `As wisly god at reste 925 + My sowle bringe, as me is for him wo! + And eem, y-wis, fayn wolde I doon the beste, + If that I hadde grace to do so. + But whether that ye dwelle or for him go, + I am, til god me bettre minde sende, 930 + At dulcarnon, right at my wittes ende.' + + Quod Pandarus, `Ye, nece, wol ye here? + Dulcarnon called is "fleminge of wrecches"; + It semeth hard, for wrecches wol not lere + For verray slouthe or othere wilful tecches; 935 + This seyd by hem that be not worth two fecches. + But ye ben wys, and that we han on honde + Nis neither hard, ne skilful to withstonde.' + + `Thanne, eem,' quod she, `doth her-of as yow list; + But er he come, I wil up first aryse; 940 + And, for the love of god, sin al my trist + Is on yow two, and ye ben bothe wyse, + So wircheth now in so discreet a wyse, + That I honour may have, and he plesaunce; + For I am here al in your governaunce.' 945 + + `That is wel seyd,' quod he, `my nece dere' + Ther good thrift on that wyse gentil herte! + But liggeth stille, and taketh him right here, + It nedeth not no ferther for him sterte; + And ech of yow ese otheres sorwes smerte, 950 + For love of god; and, Venus, I the herie; + For sone hope I we shulle ben alle merie.' + + This Troilus ful sone on knees him sette + Ful sobrely, right be hir beddes heed, + And in his beste wyse his lady grette; 955 + But lord, so she wex sodeynliche reed! + Ne, though men sholden smyten of hir heed, + She coude nought a word a-right out-bringe + So sodeynly, for his sodeyn cominge. + + But Pandarus, that so wel coude fele 960 + In every thing, to pleye anoon bigan, + And seyde, `Nece, see how this lord can knele! + Now, for your trouthe, seeth this gentil man!' + And with that word he for a quisshen ran, + And seyde, `Kneleth now, whyl that yow leste, 965 + Ther god your hertes bringe sone at reste!' + + Can I not seyn, for she bad him not ryse, + If sorwe it putte out of hir remembraunce, + Or elles that she toke it in the wyse + Of duetee, as for his observaunce; 970 + But wel finde I she dide him this plesaunce, + That she him kiste, al-though she syked sore; + And bad him sitte a-doun with-outen more. + + Quod Pandarus, `Now wol ye wel biginne; + Now doth him sitte, gode nece dere, 975 + Upon your beddes syde al there with-inne, + That ech of yow the bet may other here.' + And with that word he drow him to the fere, + And took a light, and fond his contenaunce, + As for to loke up-on an old romaunce. 980 + + Criseyde, that was Troilus lady right, + And cleer stood on a ground of sikernesse, + Al thoughte she, hir servaunt and hir knight + Ne sholde of right non untrouthe in hir gesse, + Yet nathelees, considered his distresse, 985 + And that love is in cause of swich folye, + Thus to him spak she of his Ialousye: + + `Lo, herte myn, as wolde the excellence + Of love, ayeins the which that no man may, + Ne oughte eek goodly maken resistence 990 + And eek bycause I felte wel and say + Youre grete trouthe, and servyse every day; + And that your herte al myn was, sooth to seyne, + This droof me for to rewe up-on your peyne. + + `And your goodnesse have I founde alwey yit, 995 + Of whiche, my dere herte and al my knight, + I thonke it yow, as fer as I have wit, + Al can I nought as muche as it were right; + And I, emforth my conninge and my might, + Have and ay shal, how sore that me smerte, 1000 + Ben to yow trewe and hool, with a myn herte; + + `And dredelees, that shal be founde at preve. — + But, herte myn, what al this is to seyne + Shal wel be told, so that ye noght yow greve, + Though I to yow right on your-self compleyne. 1005 + For ther-with mene I fynally the peyne, + That halt your herte and myn in hevinesse, + Fully to sleen, and every wrong redresse. + + `My goode, myn, not I for-why ne how + That Ialousye, allas! That wikked wivere, 1010 + Thus causelees is cropen in-to yow; + The harm of which I wolde fayn delivere! + Allas! That he, al hool, or of him slivere, + Shuld have his refut in so digne a place, + Ther Iove him sone out of your herte arace! 1015 + + `But O, thou Iove, O auctor of nature, + Is this an honour to thy deitee, + That folk ungiltif suffren here iniure, + And who that giltif is, al quit goth he? + O were it leful for to pleyne on thee, 1020 + That undeserved suffrest Ialousye, + Of that I wolde up-on thee pleyne and crye! + + `Eek al my wo is this, that folk now usen + To seyn right thus, "Ye, Ialousye is love!" + And wolde a busshel venim al excusen, 1025 + For that o greyn of love is on it shove! + But that wot heighe god that sit above, + If it be lyker love, or hate, or grame; + And after that, it oughte bere his name. + + `But certeyn is, som maner Ialousye 1030 + Is excusable more than som, y-wis. + As whan cause is, and som swich fantasye + With pietee so wel repressed is, + That it unnethe dooth or seyth amis, + But goodly drinketh up al his distresse; 1035 + And that excuse I, for the gentilesse. + + `And som so ful of furie is and despyt + That it sourmounteth his repressioun; + But herte myn, ye be not in that plyt, + That thanke I god, for whiche your passioun 1040 + I wol not calle it but illusioun, + Of habundaunce of love and bisy cure, + That dooth your herte this disese endure. + + `Of which I am right sory but not wrooth; + But, for my devoir and your hertes reste, 1045 + Wher-so yow list, by ordal or by ooth, + By sort, or in what wyse so yow leste, + For love of god, lat preve it for the beste! + And if that I be giltif, do me deye, + Allas! What mighte I more doon or seye?' 1050 + + With that a fewe brighte teres newe + Owt of hir eyen fille, and thus she seyde, + `Now god, thou wost, in thought ne dede untrewe + To Troilus was never yet Criseyde.' + With that hir heed doun in the bed she leyde, 1055 + And with the shete it wreigh, and syghed sore, + And held hir pees; not o word spak she more. + + But now help god to quenchen al this sorwe, + So hope I that he shal, for he best may; + For I have seyn, of a ful misty morwe 1060 + Folwen ful ofte a mery someres day; + And after winter folweth grene May. + Men seen alday, and reden eek in stories, + That after sharpe shoures been victories. + + This Troilus, whan he hir wordes herde, 1065 + Have ye no care, him liste not to slepe; + For it thoughte him no strokes of a yerde + To here or seen Criseyde, his lady wepe; + But wel he felte aboute his herte crepe, + For every teer which that Criseyde asterte, 1070 + The crampe of deeth, to streyne him by the herte. + + And in his minde he gan the tyme acurse + That he cam there, and that that he was born; + For now is wikke y-turned in-to worse, + And al that labour he hath doon biforn, 1075 + He wende it lost, he thoughte he nas but lorn. + `O Pandarus,' thoughte he, `allas! Thy wyle + Serveth of nought, so weylaway the whyle!' + + And therwithal he heng a-doun the heed, + And fil on knees, and sorwfully he sighte; 1080 + What mighte he seyn? He felte he nas but deed, + For wrooth was she that shulde his sorwes lighte. + But nathelees, whan that he speken mighte, + Than seyde he thus, `God woot, that of this game, + Whan al is wist, than am I not to blame!' 1085 + + Ther-with the sorwe so his herte shette, + That from his eyen fil there not a tere, + And every spirit his vigour in-knette, + So they astoned or oppressed were. + The feling of his sorwe, or of his fere, 1090 + Or of ought elles, fled was out of towne; + And doun he fel al sodeynly a-swowne. + + This was no litel sorwe for to see; + But al was hust, and Pandare up as faste, + `O nece, pees, or we be lost,' quod he, 1095 + `Beth nought agast;' But certeyn, at the laste, + For this or that, he in-to bedde him caste, + And seyde, `O theef, is this a mannes herte?' + And of he rente al to his bare sherte; + + And seyde, `Nece, but ye helpe us now, 1100 + Allas, your owne Troilus is lorn!' + `Y-wis, so wolde I, and I wiste how, + Ful fayn,' quod she; `Allas! That I was born!' + `Ye, nece, wole ye pullen out the thorn + That stiketh in his herte?' quod Pandare; 1105 + `Sey "Al foryeve," and stint is al this fare!' + + `Ye, that to me,' quod she, `ful lever were + Than al the good the sonne aboute gooth'; + And therwith-al she swoor him in his ere, + `Y-wis, my dere herte, I am nought wrooth, 1110 + Have here my trouthe and many another ooth; + Now speek to me, for it am I, Cryseyde!' + But al for nought; yet mighte he not a-breyde. + + Therwith his pous and pawmes of his hondes + They gan to frote, and wete his temples tweyne, 1115 + And, to deliveren him from bittre bondes, + She ofte him kiste; and, shortly for to seyne, + Him to revoken she dide al hir peyne. + And at the laste, he gan his breeth to drawe, + And of his swough sone after that adawe, 1120 + + And gan bet minde and reson to him take, + But wonder sore he was abayst, y-wis. + And with a syk, whan he gan bet a-wake, + He seyde, `O mercy, god, what thing is this?' + `Why do ye with your-selven thus amis?' 1125 + Quod tho Criseyde, `Is this a mannes game? + What, Troilus! Wol ye do thus, for shame?' + + And therwith-al hir arm over him she leyde, + And al foryaf, and ofte tyme him keste. + He thonked hir, and to hir spak, and seyde 1130 + As fil to purpos for his herte reste. + And she to that answerde him as hir leste; + And with hir goodly wordes him disporte + She gan, and ofte his sorwes to comforte. + + Quod Pandarus, `For ought I can espyen, 1135 + This light, nor I ne serven here of nought; + Light is not good for syke folkes yen. + But for the love of god, sin ye be brought + In thus good plyt, lat now non hevy thought + Ben hanginge in the hertes of yow tweye:' 1140 + And bar the candele to the chimeneye. + + Sone after this, though it no nede were, + Whan she swich othes as hir list devyse + Hadde of him take, hir thoughte tho no fere, + Ne cause eek non, to bidde him thennes ryse. 1145 + Yet lesse thing than othes may suffyse + In many a cas; for every wight, I gesse, + That loveth wel meneth but gentilesse. + + But in effect she wolde wite anoon + Of what man, and eek where, and also why 1150 + He Ielous was, sin ther was cause noon; + And eek the signe, that he took it by, + She bad him that to telle hir bisily, + Or elles, certeyn, she bar him on honde, + That this was doon of malis, hir to fonde. 1155 + + With-outen more, shortly for to seyne, + He moste obeye un-to his lady heste; + And for the lasse harm, he moste feyne. + He seyde hir, whan she was at swiche a feste, + She mighte on him han loked at the leste; 1160 + Not I not what, al dere y-nough a risshe, + As he that nedes moste a cause fisshe. + + And she answerde, `Swete, al were it so, + What harm was that, sin I non yvel mene? + For, by that god that boughte us bothe two, 1165 + In alle thinge is myn entente clene. + Swich arguments ne been not worth a bene; + Wol ye the childish Ialous contrefete? + Now were it worthy that ye were y-bete.' + + Tho Troilus gan sorwfully to syke, 1170 + Lest she be wrooth, him thoughte his herte deyde; + And seyde, `Allas! Up-on my sorwes syke + Have mercy, swete herte myn, Cryseyde! + And if that, in tho wordes that I seyde, + Be any wrong, I wol no more trespace; 1175 + Do what yow list, I am al in your grace.' + + And she answerde, `Of gilt misericorde! + That is to seyn, that I foryeve al this; + And ever-more on this night yow recorde, + And beth wel war ye do no more amis.' 1180 + `Nay, dere herte myn,' quod he, `y-wis.' + `And now,' quod she, `that I have do yow smerte, + Foryeve it me, myn owene swete herte.' + + This Troilus, with blisse of that supprysed, + Put al in goddes hond, as he that mente 1185 + No-thing but wel; and, sodeynly avysed, + He hir in armes faste to him hente. + And Pandarus, with a ful good entente, + Leyde him to slepe, and seyde, `If ye ben wyse, + Swowneth not now, lest more folk aryse.' 1190 + + What mighte or may the sely larke seye, + Whan that the sperhauk hath it in his foot? + I can no more, but of thise ilke tweye, + To whom this tale sucre be or soot, + Though that I tarie a yeer, som-tyme I moot, 1195 + After myn auctor, tellen hir gladnesse, + As wel as I have told hir hevinesse. + + Criseyde, which that felte hir thus y-take, + As writen clerkes in hir bokes olde, + Right as an aspes leef she gan to quake, 1200 + Whan she him felte hir in his armes folde. + But Troilus, al hool of cares colde, + Gan thanken tho the blisful goddes sevene; + Thus sondry peynes bringen folk in hevene. + + This Troilus in armes gan hir streyne, 1205 + And seyde, `O swete, as ever mote I goon, + Now be ye caught, now is ther but we tweyne; + Now yeldeth yow, for other boot is noon.' + To that Criseyde answerde thus anoon, + `Ne hadde I er now, my swete herte dere, 1210 + Ben yolde, y-wis, I were now not here!' + + O! Sooth is seyd, that heled for to be + As of a fevre or othere greet syknesse, + Men moste drinke, as men may often see, + Ful bittre drink; and for to han gladnesse, 1215 + Men drinken often peyne and greet distresse; + I mene it here, as for this aventure, + That thourgh a peyne hath founden al his cure. + + And now swetnesse semeth more sweet, + That bitternesse assayed was biforn; 1220 + For out of wo in blisse now they flete; + Non swich they felten, sith they were born; + Now is this bet, than bothe two be lorn! + For love of god, take every womman hede + To werken thus, if it comth to the nede. 1225 + + Criseyde, al quit from every drede and tene, + As she that iuste cause hadde him to triste, + Made him swich feste, it Ioye was to sene, + Whan she his trouthe and clene entente wiste. + And as aboute a tree, with many a twiste, 1230 + Bitrent and wryth the sote wode-binde, + Gan eche of hem in armes other winde. + + And as the newe abaysshed nightingale, + That stinteth first whan she biginneth to singe, + Whan that she hereth any herde tale, 1235 + Or in the hegges any wight steringe, + And after siker dooth hir voys out-ringe; + Right so Criseyde, whan hir drede stente, + Opned hir herte and tolde him hir entente. + + And right as he that seeth his deeth y-shapen, 1240 + And deye moot, in ought that he may gesse, + And sodeynly rescous doth him escapen, + And from his deeth is brought in sikernesse, + For al this world, in swich present gladnesse + Was Troilus, and hath his lady swete; 1245 + With worse hap god lat us never mete! + + Hir armes smale, hir streyghte bak and softe, + Hir sydes longe, fleshly, smothe, and whyte + He gan to stroke, and good thrift bad ful ofte + Hir snowish throte, hir brestes rounde and lyte; 1250 + Thus in this hevene he gan him to delyte, + And ther-with-al a thousand tyme hir kiste; + That, what to done, for Ioye unnethe he wiste. + + Than seyde he thus, `O, Love, O, Charitee, + Thy moder eek, Citherea the swete, 1255 + After thy-self next heried be she, + Venus mene I, the wel-willy planete; + And next that, Imeneus, I thee grete; + For never man was to yow goddes holde + As I, which ye han brought fro cares colde. 1260 + + `Benigne Love, thou holy bond of thinges, + Who-so wol grace, and list thee nought honouren, + Lo, his desyr wol flee with-outen winges. + For, noldestow of bountee hem socouren + That serven best and most alwey labouren, 1265 + Yet were al lost, that dar I wel seyn, certes, + But-if thy grace passed our desertes. + + `And for thou me, that coude leest deserve + Of hem that nombred been un-to thy grace, + Hast holpen, ther I lykly was to sterve, 1270 + And me bistowed in so heygh a place + That thilke boundes may no blisse pace, + I can no more, but laude and reverence + Be to thy bounte and thyn excellence!' + + And therwith-al Criseyde anoon he kiste, 1275 + Of which, certeyn, she felte no disese, + And thus seyde he, `Now wolde god I wiste, + Myn herte swete, how I yow mighte plese! + What man,' quod he, `was ever thus at ese + As I, on whiche the faireste and the beste 1280 + That ever I say, deyneth hir herte reste. + + `Here may men seen that mercy passeth right; + The experience of that is felt in me, + That am unworthy to so swete a wight. + But herte myn, of your benignitee, 1285 + So thenketh, though that I unworthy be, + Yet mot I nede amenden in som wyse, + Right thourgh the vertu of your heyghe servyse. + + `And for the love of god, my lady dere, + Sin god hath wrought me for I shal yow serve, 1290 + As thus I mene, that ye wol be my stere, + To do me live, if that yow liste, or sterve, + So techeth me how that I may deserve + Your thank, so that I, thurgh myn ignoraunce, + Ne do no-thing that yow be displesaunce. 1295 + + `For certes, fresshe wommanliche wyf, + This dar I seye, that trouthe and diligence, + That shal ye finden in me al my lyf, + Ne wol not, certeyn, breken your defence; + And if I do, present or in absence, 1300 + For love of god, lat slee me with the dede, + If that it lyke un-to your womanhede.' + + `Y-wis,' quod she, `myn owne hertes list, + My ground of ese, and al myn herte dere, + Graunt mercy, for on that is al my trist; 1305 + But late us falle awey fro this matere; + For it suffyseth, this that seyd is here. + And at o word, with-outen repentaunce, + Wel-come, my knight, my pees, my suffisaunce!' + + Of hir delyt, or Ioyes oon the leste 1310 + Were impossible to my wit to seye; + But iuggeth, ye that han ben at the feste, + Of swich gladnesse, if that hem liste pleye! + I can no more, but thus thise ilke tweye + That night, be-twixen dreed and sikernesse, 1315 + Felten in love the grete worthinesse. + + O blisful night, of hem so longe y-sought, + How blithe un-to hem bothe two thou were! + Why ne hadde I swich on with my soule y-bought, + Ye, or the leeste Ioye that was there? 1320 + A-wey, thou foule daunger and thou fere, + And lat hem in this hevene blisse dwelle, + That is so heygh, that al ne can I telle! + + But sooth is, though I can not tellen al, + As can myn auctor, of his excellence, 1325 + Yet have I seyd, and, god to-forn, I shal + In every thing al hoolly his sentence. + And if that I, at loves reverence, + Have any word in eched for the beste, + Doth therwith-al right as your-selven leste. 1330 + + For myne wordes, here and every part, + I speke hem alle under correccioun + Of yow, that feling han in loves art, + And putte it al in your discrecioun + To encrese or maken diminucioun 1335 + Of my langage, and that I yow bi-seche; + But now to purpos of my rather speche. + + Thise ilke two, that ben in armes laft, + So looth to hem a-sonder goon it were, + That ech from other wende been biraft, 1340 + Or elles, lo, this was hir moste fere, + That al this thing but nyce dremes were; + For which ful ofte ech of hem seyde, `O swete, + Clippe ich yow thus, or elles I it mete?' + + And, lord! So he gan goodly on hir see, 1345 + That never his look ne bleynte from hir face, + And seyde, `O dere herte, may it be + That it be sooth, that ye ben in this place?' + `Ye, herte myn, god thank I of his grace!' + Quod tho Criseyde, and therwith-al him kiste, 1350 + That where his spirit was, for Ioye he niste. + + This Troilus ful ofte hir eyen two + Gan for to kisse, and seyde, `O eyen clere, + It were ye that wroughte me swich wo, + Ye humble nettes of my lady dere! 1355 + Though ther be mercy writen in your chere, + God wot, the text ful hard is, sooth, to finde, + How coude ye with-outen bond me binde?' + + Therwith he gan hir faste in armes take, + And wel an hundred tymes gan he syke, 1360 + Nought swiche sorwfull sykes as men make + For wo, or elles whan that folk ben syke, + But esy sykes, swiche as been to lyke, + That shewed his affeccioun with-inne; + Of swiche sykes coude he nought bilinne. 1365 + + Sone after this they speke of sondry thinges, + As fil to purpos of this aventure, + And pleyinge entrechaungeden hir ringes, + Of which I can nought tellen no scripture; + But wel I woot, a broche, gold and asure, 1370 + In whiche a ruby set was lyk an herte, + Criseyde him yaf, and stak it on his sherte. + + Lord! trowe ye, a coveitous, a wreccbe, + That blameth love and holt of it despyt, + That, of tho pens that he can mokre and kecche, 1375 + Was ever yet y-yeve him swich delyt, + As is in love, in oo poynt, in som plyt? + Nay, doutelees, for also god me save, + So parfit Ioye may no nigard have! + + They wol sey `Yis,' but lord! So that they lye, 1380 + Tho bisy wrecches, ful of wo and drede! + They callen love a woodnesse or folye, + But it shal falle hem as I shal yow rede; + They shul forgo the whyte and eke the rede, + And live in wo, ther god yeve hem mischaunce, 1385 + And every lover in his trouthe avaunce! + + As wolde god, tho wrecches, that dispyse + Servyse of love, hadde eres al-so longe + As hadde Myda, ful of coveityse, + And ther-to dronken hadde as hoot and stronge 1390 + As Crassus dide for his affectis wronge, + To techen hem that they ben in the vyce, + And loveres nought, al-though they holde hem nyce! + + Thise ilke two, of whom that I yow seye, + Whan that hir hertes wel assured were, 1395 + Tho gonne they to speken and to pleye, + And eek rehercen how, and whanne, and where, + They knewe hem first, and every wo and fere + That passed was; but al swich hevinesse, + I thanke it god, was tourned to gladnesse. 1400 + + And ever-mo, whan that hem fel to speke + Of any thing of swich a tyme agoon, + With kissing al that tale sholde breke, + And fallen in a newe Ioye anoon, + And diden al hir might, sin they were oon, 1405 + For to recoveren blisse and been at ese, + And passed wo with Ioye countrepeyse. + + Reson wil not that I speke of sleep, + For it accordeth nought to my matere; + God woot, they toke of that ful litel keep, 1410 + But lest this night, that was to hem so dere, + Ne sholde in veyn escape in no manere, + It was biset in Ioye and bisinesse + Of al that souneth in-to gentilnesse. + + But whan the cok, comune astrologer, 1415 + Gan on his brest to bete, and after crowe, + And Lucifer, the dayes messager, + Gan for to ryse, and out hir bemes throwe; + And estward roos, to him that coude it knowe, + Fortuna maior, than anoon Criseyde, 1420 + With herte sore, to Troilus thus seyde: — + + `Myn hertes lyf, my trist and my plesaunce, + That I was born, allas! What me is wo, + That day of us mot make desseveraunce! + For tyme it is to ryse, and hennes go, 1425 + Or elles I am lost for evermo! + O night, allas! Why niltow over us hove, + As longe as whanne Almena lay by Iove? + + `O blake night, as folk in bokes rede, + That shapen art by god this world to hyde 1430 + At certeyn tymes with thy derke wede, + That under that men mighte in reste abyde, + Wel oughte bestes pleyne, and folk thee chyde, + That there-as day with labour wolde us breste, + That thou thus fleest, and deynest us nought reste! 1435 + + `Thou dost, allas! To shortly thyn offyce, + Thou rakel night, ther god, makere of kinde, + Thee, for thyn hast and thyn unkinde vyce, + So faste ay to our hemi-spere binde. + That never-more under the ground thou winde! 1440 + For now, for thou so hyest out of Troye, + Have I forgon thus hastily my Ioye!' + + This Troilus, that with tho wordes felte, + As thoughte him tho, for pietous distresse, + The blody teres from his herte melte, 1445 + As he that never yet swich hevinesse + Assayed hadde, out of so greet gladnesse, + Gan therwith-al Criseyde his lady dere + In armes streyne, and seyde in this manere: — + + `O cruel day, accusour of the Ioye 1450 + That night and love han stole and faste y-wryen, + A-cursed be thy coming in-to Troye, + For every bore hath oon of thy bright yen! + Envyous day, what list thee so to spyen? + What hastow lost, why sekestow this place, 1455 + Ther god thy lyght so quenche, for his grace? + + `Allas! What han thise loveres thee agilt, + Dispitous day? Thyn be the pyne of helle! + For many a lovere hastow shent, and wilt; + Thy pouring in wol no-wher lete hem dwelle. 1460 + What proferestow thy light here for to selle? + Go selle it hem that smale seles graven, + We wol thee nought, us nedeth no day haven.' + + And eek the sonne Tytan gan he chyde, + And seyde, `O fool, wel may men thee dispyse, 1465 + That hast the Dawing al night by thy syde, + And suffrest hir so sone up fro thee ryse, + For to disesen loveres in this wyse. + What! Holde your bed ther, thou, and eek thy Morwe! + I bidde god, so yeve yow bothe sorwe!' 1470 + + Therwith ful sore he sighte, and thus he seyde, + `My lady right, and of my wele or wo + The welle and rote, O goodly myn, Criseyde, + And shal I ryse, allas! And shal I go? + Now fele I that myn herte moot a-two! 1475 + For how sholde I my lyf an houre save, + Sin that with yow is al the lyf I have? + + `What shal I doon, for certes, I not how, + Ne whanne, allas! I shal the tyme see, + That in this plyt I may be eft with yow; 1480 + And of my lyf, god woot, how that shal be, + Sin that desyr right now so byteth me, + That I am deed anoon, but I retourne. + How sholde I longe, allas! Fro yow soiourne? + + `But nathelees, myn owene lady bright, 1485 + Yit were it so that I wiste outrely, + That I, your humble servaunt and your knight, + Were in your herte set so fermely + As ye in myn, the which thing, trewely, + Me lever were than thise worldes tweyne, 1490 + Yet sholde I bet enduren al my peyne.' + + To that Cryseyde answerde right anoon, + And with a syk she seyde, `O herte dere, + The game, y-wis, so ferforth now is goon, + That first shal Phebus falle fro his spere, 1495 + And every egle been the dowves fere, + And every roche out of his place sterte, + Er Troilus out of Criseydes herte! + + `Ye he so depe in-with myn herte grave, + That, though I wolde it turne out of my thought, 1500 + As wisly verray god my soule save, + To dyen in the peyne, I coude nought! + And, for the love of god that us bath wrought, + Lat in your brayn non other fantasye + So crepe, that it cause me to dye! 1505 + + `And that ye me wolde han as faste in minde + As I have yow, that wolde I yow bi-seche; + And, if I wiste soothly that to finde, + God mighte not a poynt my Ioyes eche! + But, herte myn, with-oute more speche, 1510 + Beth to me trewe, or elles were it routhe; + For I am thyn, by god and by my trouthe! + + `Beth glad for-thy, and live in sikernesse; + Thus seyde I never er this, ne shal to mo; + And if to yow it were a gret gladnesse 1515 + To turne ayein, soone after that ye go, + As fayn wolde I as ye, it were so, + As wisly god myn herte bringe at reste!' + And him in armes took, and ofte keste. + + Agayns his wil, sin it mot nedes be, 1520 + This Troilus up roos, and faste him cledde, + And in his armes took his lady free + An hundred tyme, and on his wey him spedde, + And with swich wordes as his herte bledde, + He seyde, `Farewel, mr dere herte swete, 1525 + Ther god us graunte sounde and sone to mete!' + + To which no word for sorwe she answerde, + So sore gan his parting hir destreyne; + And Troilus un-to his palays ferde, + As woo bigon as she was, sooth to seyne; 1530 + So hard him wrong of sharp desyr the peyne + For to ben eft there he was in plesaunce, + That it may never out of his remembraunce. + + Retorned to his real palais, sone + He softe in-to his bed gan for to slinke, 1535 + To slepe longe, as he was wont to done, + But al for nought; he may wel ligge and winke, + But sleep ne may ther in his herte sinke; + Thenkinge how she, for whom desyr him brende, + A thousand-fold was worth more than he wende. 1540 + + And in his thought gan up and doun to winde + Hir wordes alle, and every countenaunce, + And fermely impressen in his minde + The leste poynt that to him was plesaunce; + And verrayliche, of thilke remembraunce, 1545 + Desyr al newe him brende, and lust to brede + Gan more than erst, and yet took he non hede. + + Criseyde also, right in the same wyse, + Of Troilus gan in hir herte shette + His worthinesse, his lust, his dedes wyse, 1550 + His gentilesse, and how she with him mette, + Thonkinge love he so wel hir bisette; + Desyring eft to have hir herte dere + In swich a plyt, she dorste make him chere. + + Pandare, a-morwe which that comen was 1555 + Un-to his nece, and gan hir fayre grete, + Seyde, `Al this night so reyned it, allas! + That al my drede is that ye, nece swete, + Han litel layser had to slepe and mete; + Al night,' quod he, `hath reyn so do me wake, 1560 + That som of us, I trowe, hir hedes ake.' + + And ner he com, and seyde, `How stont it now + This mery morwe, nece, how can ye fare?' + Criseyde answerde, `Never the bet for yow, + Fox that ye been, god yeve youre herte care! 1565 + God help me so, ye caused al this fare, + Trow I,' quod she, `for alle your wordes whyte; + O! Who-so seeth yow knoweth yow ful lyte!' + + With that she gan hir face for to wrye + With the shete, and wex for shame al reed; 1570 + And Pandarus gan under for to prye, + And seyde, `Nece, if that I shal be deed, + Have here a swerd, and smyteth of myn heed.' + With that his arm al sodeynly he thriste + Under hir nekke, and at the laste hir kiste. 1575 + + I passe al that which chargeth nought to seye, + What! God foryaf his deeth, and she al-so + Foryaf, and with hir uncle gan to pleye, + For other cause was ther noon than so. + But of this thing right to the effect to go, 1580 + Whan tyme was, hom til hir hous she wente, + And Pandarus hath fully his entente. + + Now torne we ayein to Troilus, + That resteles ful longe a-bedde lay, + And prevely sente after Pandarus, 1585 + To him to come in al the haste he may. + He com anoon, nought ones seyde he `nay,' + And Troilus ful sobrely he grette, + And doun upon his beddes syde him sette. + + This Troilus, with al the affeccioun 1590 + Of frendes love that herte may devyse, + To Pandarus on knees fil adoun, + And er that he wolde of the place aryse, + He gan him thonken in his beste wyse; + An hondred sythe he gan the tyme blesse, 1595 + That he was born, to bringe him fro distresse. + + He seyde, `O frend of frendes the alderbeste + That ever was, the sothe for to telle, + Thou hast in hevene y-brought my soule at reste + Fro Flegitoun, the fery flood of helle; 1600 + That, though I mighte a thousand tymes selle, + Upon a day, my lyf in thy servyse, + It mighte nought a mote in that suffyse. + + `The sonne, which that al the world may see, + Saw never yet, my lyf, that dar I leye, 1605 + So inly fayr and goodly as is she, + Whos I am al, and shal, til that I deye; + And, that I thus am hires, dar I seye, + That thanked be the heighe worthinesse + Of love, and eek thy kinde bisinesse. 1610 + + `Thus hastow me no litel thing y-yive, + Fo which to thee obliged be for ay + My lyf, and why? For thorugh thyn help I live; + For elles deed hadde I be many a day.' + And with that word doun in his bed he lay, 1615 + And Pandarus ful sobrely him herde + Til al was seyd, and than he thus answerde: + + `My dere frend, if I have doon for thee + In any cas, god wot, it is me leef; + And am as glad as man may of it be, 1620 + God help me so; but tak now a-greef + That I shal seyn, be war of this myscheef, + That, there-as thou now brought art in-to blisse, + That thou thy-self ne cause it nought to misse. + + `For of fortunes sharpe adversitee 1625 + The worst kinde of infortune is this, + A man to have ben in prosperitee, + And it remembren, whan it passed is. + Thou art wys y-nough, for-thy do nought amis; + Be not to rakel, though thou sitte warme, + For if thou be, certeyn, it wol thee harme. 1631 + + `Thou art at ese, and holde the wel ther-inne. + For also seur as reed is every fyr, + As greet a craft is kepe wel as winne; + Brydle alwey wel thy speche and thy desyr, 1635 + For worldly Ioye halt not but by a wyr; + That preveth wel, it brest alday so ofte; + For-thy nede is to werke with it softe.' + + Quod Troilus, `I hope, and god to-forn, + My dere frend, that I shal so me bere, 1640 + That in my gilt ther shal no thing be lorn, + Ne I nil not rakle as for to greven here; + It nedeth not this matere ofte tere; + For wistestow myn herte wel, Pandare, + God woot, of this thou woldest litel care.' 1645 + + Tho gan he telle him of his glade night, + And wher-of first his herte dredde, and how, + And seyde, `Freend, as I am trewe knight, + And by that feyth I shal to god and yow, + I hadde it never half so hote as now; 1650 + And ay the more that desyr me byteth + To love hir best, the more it me delyteth. + + `I noot my-self not wisly what it is; + But now I fele a newe qualitee, + Ye, al another than I dide er this.' 1655 + Pandare answerde, and seyde thus, that he + That ones may in hevene blisse be, + He feleth other weyes, dar I leye, + Than thilke tyme he first herde of it seye. + + This is o word for al: this Troilus 1660 + Was never ful to speke of this matere, + And for to preysen un-to Pandarus + The bountee of his righte lady dere, + And Pandarus to thanke and maken chere. + This tale ay was span-newe to biginne, 1665 + Til that the night departed hem a-twinne. + + Sone after this, for that fortune it wolde, + I-comen was the blisful tyme swete, + That Troilus was warned that he sholde, + Ther he was erst, Criseyde his lady mete; 1670 + For which he felte his herte in Ioye flete; + And feythfully gan alle the goddes herie; + And lat see now if that he can be merie. + + And holden was the forme and al the wyse, + Of hir cominge, and eek of his also, 1675 + As it was erst, which nedeth nought devyse. + But playnly to the effect right for to go, + In Ioye and suerte Pandarus hem two + A-bedde broughte, whan that hem bothe leste, + And thus they ben in quiete and in reste. 1680 + + Nought nedeth it to yow, sin they ben met, + To aske at me if that they blythe were; + For if it erst was wel, tho was it bet + A thousand-fold, this nedeth not enquere. + A-gon was every sorwe and every fere; 1685 + And bothe, y-wis, they hadde, and so they wende, + As muche Ioye as herte may comprende. + + This is no litel thing of for to seye, + This passeth every wit for to devyse; + For eche of hem gan otheres lust obeye; 1690 + Felicitee, which that thise clerkes wyse + Commenden so, ne may not here suffyse. + This Ioye may not writen been with inke, + This passeth al that herte may bithinke. + + But cruel day, so wel-awey the stounde! 1695 + Gan for to aproche, as they by signes knewe, + For whiche hem thoughte felen dethes wounde; + So wo was hem, that changen gan hir hewe, + And day they goonnen to dispyse al newe, + Calling it traytour, envyous, and worse, 1700 + And bitterly the dayes light they curse. + + Quod Troilus, `Allas! Now am I war + That Pirous and tho swifte stedes three, + Whiche that drawen forth the sonnes char, + Han goon som by-path in despyt of me; 1705 + That maketh it so sone day to be; + And, for the sonne him hasteth thus to ryse, + Ne shal I never doon him sacrifyse!' + + But nedes day departe moste hem sone, + And whanne hir speche doon was and hir chere, 1710 + They twinne anoon as they were wont to done, + And setten tyme of meting eft y-fere; + And many a night they wroughte in this manere. + And thus Fortune a tyme ladde in Ioye + Criseyde, and eek this kinges sone of Troye. 1715 + + In suffisaunce, in blisse, and in singinges, + This Troilus gan al his lyf to lede; + He spendeth, Iusteth, maketh festeynges; + He yeveth frely ofte, and chaungeth wede, + And held aboute him alwey, out of drede, 1720 + A world of folk, as cam him wel of kinde, + The fressheste and the beste he coude fynde; + + That swich a voys was of hym and a stevene + Thorugh-out the world, of honour and largesse, + That it up rong un-to the yate of hevene. 1725 + And, as in love, he was in swich gladnesse, + That in his herte he demede, as I gesse, + That there nis lovere in this world at ese + So wel as he, and thus gan love him plese. + + The godlihede or beautee which that kinde 1730 + In any other lady hadde y-set + Can not the mountaunce of a knot unbinde, + A-boute his herte, of al Criseydes net. + He was so narwe y-masked and y-knet, + That it undon on any manere syde, 1735 + That nil not been, for ought that may betyde. + + And by the hond ful ofte he wolde take + This Pandarus, and in-to gardin lede, + And swich a feste and swich a proces make + Him of Criseyde, and of hir womanhede, 1740 + And of hir beautee, that, with-outen drede, + It was an hevene his wordes for to here; + And thanne he wolde singe in this manere. + + `Love, that of erthe and see hath governaunce, + Love, that his hestes hath in hevene hye, 1745 + Love, that with an holsom alliaunce + Halt peples ioyned, as him list hem gye, + Love, that knetteth lawe of companye, + And couples doth in vertu for to dwelle, + Bind this acord, that I have told and telle; 1750 + + `That that the world with feyth, which that is stable, + Dyverseth so his stoundes concordinge, + That elements that been so discordable + Holden a bond perpetuely duringe, + That Phebus mote his rosy day forth bringe, 1755 + And that the mone hath lordship over the nightes, + Al this doth Love; ay heried be his mightes! + + `That, that the see, that gredy is to flowen, + Constreyneth to a certeyn ende so + His flodes, that so fersly they ne growen 1760 + To drenchen erthe and al for ever-mo; + And if that Love ought lete his brydel go, + Al that now loveth a-sonder sholde lepe, + And lost were al, that Love halt now to-hepe. + + `So wolde god, that auctor is of kinde, 1765 + That, with his bond, Love of his vertu liste + To cerclen hertes alle, and faste binde, + That from his bond no wight the wey out wiste. + And hertes colde, hem wolde I that he twiste + To make hem love, and that hem leste ay rewe 1770 + On hertes sore, and kepe hem that ben trewe.' + + In alle nedes, for the tounes werre, + He was, and ay the firste in armes dight; + And certeynly, but-if that bokes erre, + Save Ector, most y-drad of any wight; 1775 + And this encrees of hardinesse and might + Cam him of love, his ladies thank to winne, + That altered his spirit so with-inne. + + In tyme of trewe, on haukinge wolde he ryde, + Or elles hunten boor, bere, or lyoun; 1780 + The smale bestes leet he gon bi-syde. + And whan that he com rydinge in-to toun, + Ful ofte his lady, from hir window doun, + As fresh as faucon comen out of muwe, + Ful redy was, him goodly to saluwe. 1785 + + And most of love and vertu was his speche, + And in despyt hadde alle wrecchednesse; + And doutelees, no nede was him biseche + To honouren hem that hadde worthinesse, + And esen hem that weren in distresse. 1790 + And glad was he if any wight wel ferde, + That lover was, whan he it wiste or herde. + + For sooth to seyn, he lost held every wight + But-if he were in loves heigh servyse, + I mene folk that oughte it been of right. 1795 + And over al this, so wel coude he devyse + Of sentement, and in so unkouth wyse + Al his array, that every lover thoughte, + That al was wel, what-so he seyde or wroughte. + + And though that he be come of blood royal, 1800 + Him liste of pryde at no wight for to chase; + Benigne he was to ech in general, + For which he gat him thank in every place. + Thus wolde love, y-heried be his grace, + That Pryde, Envye, Ire, and Avaryce 1805 + He gan to flee, and every other vyce. + + Thou lady bright, the doughter to Dione, + Thy blinde and winged sone eek, daun Cupyde; + Ye sustren nyne eek, that by Elicone + In hil Parnaso listen for to abyde, 1810 + That ye thus fer han deyned me to gyde, + I can no more, but sin that ye wol wende, + Ye heried been for ay, with-outen ende! + + Thourgh yow have I seyd fully in my song + Theffect and Ioye of Troilus servyse, 1815 + Al be that ther was som disese among, + As to myn auctor listeth to devyse. + My thridde book now ende ich in this wyse; + And Troilus in luste and in quiete + Is with Criseyde, his owne herte swete. 1820 + + Explicit Liber Tercius. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK IV. Incipit Prohemium Liber Quartus. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + But al to litel, weylaway the whyle, + Lasteth swich Ioye, y-thonked be Fortune! + That semeth trewest, whan she wol bygyle, + And can to foles so hir song entune, + That she hem hent and blent, traytour comune; 5 + And whan a wight is from hir wheel y-throwe, + Than laugheth she, and maketh him the mowe. + + From Troilus she gan hir brighte face + Awey to wrythe, and took of him non hede, + But caste him clene out of his lady grace, 10 + And on hir wheel she sette up Diomede; + For which right now myn herte ginneth blede, + And now my penne, allas! With which I wryte, + Quaketh for drede of that I moot endyte. + + For how Criseyde Troilus forsook, 15 + Or at the leste, how that she was unkinde, + Mot hennes-forth ben matere of my book, + As wryten folk through which it is in minde. + Allas! That they sholde ever cause finde + To speke hir harm; and if they on hir lye, 20 + Y-wis, hem-self sholde han the vilanye. + + O ye Herines, Nightes doughtren three, + That endelees compleynen ever in pyne, + Megera, Alete, and eek Thesiphone; + Thou cruel Mars eek, fader to Quiryne, 25 + This ilke ferthe book me helpeth fyne, + So that the los of lyf and love y-fere + Of Troilus be fully shewed here. + + Explicit prohemium. + + Incipit Quartus Liber. + + Ligginge in ost, as I have seyd er this, + The Grekes stronge, aboute Troye toun, 30 + Bifel that, whan that Phebus shyning is + Up-on the brest of Hercules Lyoun, + That Ector, with ful many a bold baroun, + Caste on a day with Grekes for to fighte, + As he was wont to greve hem what he mighte. 35 + + Not I how longe or short it was bitwene + This purpos and that day they fighte mente; + But on a day wel armed, bright and shene, + Ector, and many a worthy wight out wente, + With spere in hond and bigge bowes bente; 40 + And in the herd, with-oute lenger lette, + Hir fomen in the feld anoon hem mette. + + The longe day, with speres sharpe y-grounde, + With arwes, dartes, swerdes, maces felle, + They fighte and bringen hors and man to grounde, 45 + And with hir axes out the braynes quelle. + But in the laste shour, sooth for to telle, + The folk of Troye hem-selven so misledden, + That with the worse at night homward they fledden. + + At whiche day was taken Antenor, 50 + Maugre Polydamas or Monesteo, + Santippe, Sarpedon, Polynestor, + Polyte, or eek the Troian daun Ripheo, + And othere lasse folk, as Phebuseo. + So that, for harm, that day the folk of Troye 55 + Dredden to lese a greet part of hir Ioye. + + Of Pryamus was yeve, at Greek requeste, + A tyme of trewe, and tho they gonnen trete, + Hir prisoneres to chaungen, moste and leste, + And for the surplus yeven sommes grete. 60 + This thing anoon was couth in every strete, + Bothe in thassege, in toune, and every-where, + And with the firste it cam to Calkas ere. + + Whan Calkas knew this tretis sholde holde, + In consistorie, among the Grekes, sone 65 + He gan in thringe forth, with lordes olde, + And sette him there-as he was wont to done; + And with a chaunged face hem bad a bone, + For love of god, to don that reverence, + To stinte noyse, and yeve him audience. 70 + + Thanne seyde he thus, `Lo! Lordes myne, I was + Troian, as it is knowen out of drede; + And, if that yow remembre, I am Calkas, + That alderfirst yaf comfort to your nede, + And tolde wel how that ye sholden spede. 75 + For dredelees, thorugh yow, shal, in a stounde, + Ben Troye y-brend, and beten doun to grounde. + + `And in what forme, or in what maner wyse + This town to shende, and al your lust to acheve, + Ye han er this wel herd it me devyse; 80 + This knowe ye, my lordes, as I leve. + And for the Grekes weren me so leve, + I com my-self in my propre persone, + To teche in this how yow was best to done; + + `Havinge un-to my tresour ne my rente 85 + Right no resport, to respect of your ese. + Thus al my good I loste and to yow wente, + Wening in this you, lordes, for to plese. + But al that los ne doth me no disese. + I vouche-sauf, as wisly have I Ioye, 90 + For you to lese al that I have in Troye, + + `Save of a doughter, that I lafte, allas! + Slepinge at hoom, whanne out of Troye I sterte. + O sterne, O cruel fader that I was! + How mighte I have in that so hard an herte? 95 + Allas! I ne hadde y-brought hir in hir sherte! + For sorwe of which I wol not live to morwe, + But-if ye lordes rewe up-on my sorwe. + + `For, by that cause I say no tyme er now + Hir to delivere, I holden have my pees; 100 + But now or never, if that it lyke yow, + I may hir have right sone, doutelees. + O help and grace! Amonges al this prees, + Rewe on this olde caitif in destresse, + Sin I through yow have al this hevinesse! 105 + + `Ye have now caught and fetered in prisoun + Troians y-nowe; and if your willes be, + My child with oon may have redempcioun. + Now for the love of god and of bountee, + Oon of so fele, allas! So yeve him me. 110 + What nede were it this preyere for to werne, + Sin ye shul bothe han folk and toun as yerne? + + `On peril of my lyf, I shal nat lye, + Appollo hath me told it feithfully; + I have eek founde it be astronomye, 115 + By sort, and by augurie eek trewely, + And dar wel seye, the tyme is faste by, + That fyr and flaumbe on al the toun shal sprede; + And thus shal Troye turne to asshen dede. + + `For certeyn, Phebus and Neptunus bothe, 120 + That makeden the walles of the toun, + Ben with the folk of Troye alwey so wrothe, + That thei wol bringe it to confusioun, + Right in despyt of king Lameadoun. + By-cause he nolde payen hem hir hyre, 125 + The toun of Troye shal ben set on-fyre.' + + Telling his tale alwey, this olde greye, + Humble in speche, and in his lokinge eke, + The salte teres from his eyen tweye + Ful faste ronnen doun by eyther cheke. 130 + So longe he gan of socour hem by-seke + That, for to hele him of his sorwes sore, + They yave him Antenor, with-oute more. + + But who was glad y-nough but Calkas tho? + And of this thing ful sone his nedes leyde 135 + On hem that sholden for the tretis go, + And hem for Antenor ful ofte preyde + To bringen hoom king Toas and Criseyde; + And whan Pryam his save-garde sente, + Thembassadours to Troye streyght they wente. 140 + + The cause y-told of hir cominge, the olde + Pryam the king ful sone in general + Let here-upon his parlement to holde, + Of which the effect rehersen yow I shal. + Thembassadours ben answered for fynal, 145 + Theschaunge of prisoners and al this nede + Hem lyketh wel, and forth in they procede. + + This Troilus was present in the place, + Whan axed was for Antenor Criseyde, + For which ful sone chaungen gan his face, 150 + As he that with tho wordes wel neigh deyde. + But nathelees, he no word to it seyde, + Lest men sholde his affeccioun espye; + With mannes herte he gan his sorwes drye. + + And ful of anguissh and of grisly drede 155 + Abood what lordes wolde un-to it seye; + And if they wolde graunte, as god forbede, + Theschaunge of hir, than thoughte he thinges tweye, + First, how to save hir honour, and what weye + He mighte best theschaunge of hir withstonde; 160 + Ful faste he caste how al this mighte stonde. + + Love him made al prest to doon hir byde, + And rather dye than she sholde go; + But resoun seyde him, on that other syde, + `With-oute assent of hir ne do not so, 165 + Lest for thy werk she wolde be thy fo, + And seyn, that thorugh thy medling is y-blowe + Your bother love, there it was erst unknowe.' + + For which he gan deliberen, for the beste, + That though the lordes wolde that she wente, 170 + He wolde lat hem graunte what hem leste, + And telle his lady first what that they mente. + And whan that she had seyd him hir entente, + Ther-after wolde he werken also blyve, + Though al the world ayein it wolde stryve. 175 + + Ector, which that wel the Grekes herde, + For Antenor how they wolde han Criseyde, + Gan it withstonde, and sobrely answerde: — + `Sires, she nis no prisoner,' he seyde; + `I noot on yow who that this charge leyde, 180 + But, on my part, ye may eft-sone hem telle, + We usen here no wommen for to selle.' + + The noyse of peple up-stirte thanne at ones, + As breme as blase of straw y-set on fyre; + For infortune it wolde, for the nones, 185 + They sholden hir confusioun desyre. + `Ector,' quod they, `what goost may yow enspyre + This womman thus to shilde and doon us lese + Daun Antenor? — a wrong wey now ye chese — + + `That is so wys, and eek so bold baroun, 190 + And we han nede to folk, as men may see; + He is eek oon, the grettest of this toun; + O Ector, lat tho fantasyes be! + O king Priam,' quod they, `thus seggen we, + That al our voys is to for-gon Criseyde;' 195 + And to deliveren Antenor they preyde. + + O Iuvenal, lord! Trewe is thy sentence, + That litel witen folk what is to yerne + That they ne finde in hir desyr offence; + For cloud of errour let hem not descerne 200 + What best is; and lo, here ensample as yerne. + This folk desiren now deliveraunce + Of Antenor, that broughte hem to mischaunce! + + For he was after traytour to the toun + Of Troye; allas! They quitte him out to rathe; 205 + O nyce world, lo, thy discrecioun! + Criseyde, which that never dide hem skathe, + Shal now no lenger in hir blisse bathe; + But Antenor, he shal com hoom to toune, + And she shal out; thus seyden here and howne. 210 + + For which delibered was by parlement + For Antenor to yelden out Criseyde, + And it pronounced by the president, + Al-theigh that Ector `nay' ful ofte preyde. + And fynaly, what wight that it with-seyde, 215 + It was for nought, it moste been, and sholde; + For substaunce of the parlement it wolde. + + Departed out of parlement echone, + This Troilus, with-oute wordes mo, + Un-to his chaumbre spedde him faste allone, 220 + But-if it were a man of his or two, + The whiche he bad out faste for to go, + By-cause he wolde slepen, as he seyde, + And hastely up-on his bed him leyde. + + And as in winter leves been biraft, 225 + Eche after other, til the tree be bare, + So that ther nis but bark and braunche y-laft, + Lyth Troilus, biraft of ech wel-fare, + Y-bounden in the blake bark of care, + Disposed wood out of his wit to breyde, 230 + So sore him sat the chaunginge of Criseyde. + + He rist him up, and every dore he shette + And windowe eek, and tho this sorweful man + Up-on his beddes syde a-doun him sette, + Ful lyk a deed image pale and wan; 235 + And in his brest the heped wo bigan + Out-breste, and he to werken in this wyse + In his woodnesse, as I shal yow devyse. + + Right as the wilde bole biginneth springe + Now here, now there, y-darted to the herte, 240 + And of his deeth roreth in compleyninge, + Right so gan he aboute the chaumbre sterte, + Smyting his brest ay with his festes smerte; + His heed to the wal, his body to the grounde + Ful ofte he swapte, him-selven to confounde. 245 + + His eyen two, for pitee of his herte, + Out stremeden as swifte welles tweye; + The heighe sobbes of his sorwes smerte + His speche him refte, unnethes mighte he seye, + `O deeth, allas! Why niltow do me deye? 250 + A-cursed be the day which that nature + Shoop me to ben a lyves creature!' + + But after, whan the furie and the rage + Which that his herte twiste and faste threste, + By lengthe of tyme somwhat gan asswage, 255 + Up-on his bed he leyde him doun to reste; + But tho bigonne his teres more out-breste, + That wonder is, the body may suffyse + To half this wo, which that I yow devyse. + + Than seyde he thus, `Fortune! Allas the whyle! 260 + What have I doon, what have I thus a-gilt? + How mightestow for reuthe me bigyle? + Is ther no grace, and shal I thus be spilt? + Shal thus Criseyde awey, for that thou wilt? + Allas! How maystow in thyn herte finde 265 + To been to me thus cruel and unkinde? + + `Have I thee nought honoured al my lyve, + As thou wel wost, above the goddes alle? + Why wiltow me fro Ioye thus depryve? + O Troilus, what may men now thee calle 270 + But wrecche of wrecches, out of honour falle + In-to miserie, in which I wol biwayle + Criseyde, allas! Til that the breeth me fayle? + + `Allas, Fortune! If that my lyf in Ioye + Displesed hadde un-to thy foule envye, 275 + Why ne haddestow my fader, king of Troye, + By-raft the lyf, or doon my bretheren dye, + Or slayn my-self, that thus compleyne and crye, + I, combre-world, that may of no-thing serve, + But ever dye, and never fully sterve? 280 + + `If that Criseyde allone were me laft, + Nought roughte I whider thou woldest me stere; + And hir, allas! Than hastow me biraft. + But ever-more, lo! This is thy manere, + To reve a wight that most is to him dere, 285 + To preve in that thy gerful violence. + Thus am I lost, ther helpeth no defence! + + `O verray lord of love, O god, allas! + That knowest best myn herte and al my thought, + What shal my sorwful lyf don in this cas 290 + If I for-go that I so dere have bought? + Sin ye Cryseyde and me han fully brought + In-to your grace, and bothe our hertes seled, + How may ye suffre, allas! It be repeled? + + `What I may doon, I shal, whyl I may dure 295 + On lyve in torment and in cruel peyne, + This infortune or this disaventure, + Allone as I was born, y-wis, compleyne; + Ne never wil I seen it shyne or reyne; + But ende I wil, as Edippe, in derknesse 300 + My sorwful lyf, and dyen in distresse. + + `O wery goost, that errest to and fro, + Why niltow fleen out of the wofulleste + Body, that ever mighte on grounde go? + O soule, lurkinge in this wo, unneste, 305 + Flee forth out of myn herte, and lat it breste, + And folwe alwey Criseyde, thy lady dere; + Thy righte place is now no lenger here! + + `O wofulle eyen two, sin your disport + Was al to seen Criseydes eyen brighte, 310 + What shal ye doon but, for my discomfort, + Stonden for nought, and wepen out your sighte? + Sin she is queynt, that wont was yow to lighte, + In veyn fro-this-forth have I eyen tweye + Y-formed, sin your vertue is a-weye. 315 + + `O my Criseyde, O lady sovereyne + Of thilke woful soule that thus cryeth, + Who shal now yeven comfort to the peyne? + Allas, no wight; but when myn herte dyeth, + My spirit, which that so un-to yow hyeth, 320 + Receyve in gree, for that shal ay yow serve; + For-thy no fors is, though the body sterve. + + `O ye loveres, that heighe upon the wheel + Ben set of Fortune, in good aventure, + God leve that ye finde ay love of steel, 325 + And longe mot your lyf in Ioye endure! + But whan ye comen by my sepulture, + Remembreth that your felawe resteth there; + For I lovede eek, though I unworthy were. + + `O olde, unholsom, and mislyved man, 330 + Calkas I mene, allas! What eyleth thee + To been a Greek, sin thou art born Troian? + O Calkas, which that wilt my bane be, + In cursed tyme was thou born for me! + As wolde blisful Iove, for his Ioye, 335 + That I thee hadde, where I wolde, in Troye!' + + A thousand sykes, hottere than the glede, + Out of his brest ech after other wente, + Medled with pleyntes newe, his wo to fede, + For which his woful teres never stente; 340 + And shortly, so his peynes him to-rente, + And wex so mat, that Ioye nor penaunce + He feleth noon, but lyth forth in a traunce. + + Pandare, which that in the parlement + Hadde herd what every lord and burgeys seyde, 345 + And how ful graunted was, by oon assent, + For Antenor to yelden so Criseyde, + Gan wel neigh wood out of his wit to breyde, + So that, for wo, he niste what he mente; + But in a rees to Troilus he wente. 350 + + A certeyn knight, that for the tyme kepte + The chaumbre-dore, un-dide it him anoon; + And Pandare, that ful tendreliche wepte, + In-to the derke chaumbre, as stille as stoon, + Toward the bed gan softely to goon, 355 + So confus, that he niste what to seye; + For verray wo his wit was neigh aweye. + + And with his chere and loking al to-torn, + For sorwe of this, and with his armes folden, + He stood this woful Troilus biforn, 360 + And on his pitous face he gan biholden; + But lord, so often gan his herte colden, + Seing his freend in wo, whos hevinesse + His herte slow, as thoughte him, for distresse. + + This woful wight, this Troilus, that felte 365 + His freend Pandare y-comen him to see, + Gan as the snow ayein the sonne melte, + For which this sorwful Pandare, of pitee, + Gan for to wepe as tendreliche as he; + And specheles thus been thise ilke tweye, 370 + That neyther mighte o word for sorwe seye. + + But at the laste this woful Troilus, + Ney deed for smert, gan bresten out to rore, + And with a sorwful noyse he seyde thus, + Among his sobbes and his sykes sore, 375 + `Lo! Pandare, I am deed, with-outen more. + Hastow nought herd at parlement,' he seyde, + `For Antenor how lost is my Criseyde?' + + This Pandarus, ful deed and pale of hewe, + Ful pitously answerde and seyde, `Yis! 380 + As wisly were it fals as it is trewe, + That I have herd, and wot al how it is. + O mercy, god, who wolde have trowed this? + Who wolde have wend that, in so litel a throwe, + Fortune our Ioye wolde han over-throwe? 385 + + `For in this world ther is no creature, + As to my doom, that ever saw ruyne + Straungere than this, thorugh cas or aventure. + But who may al eschewe, or al devyne? + Swich is this world; for-thy I thus defyne, 390 + Ne trust no wight to finden in Fortune + Ay propretee; hir yeftes been comune. + + `But tel me this, why thou art now so mad + To sorwen thus? Why lystow in this wyse, + Sin thy desyr al holly hastow had, 395 + So that, by right, it oughte y-now suffyse? + But I, that never felte in my servyse + A frendly chere or loking of an ye, + Lat me thus wepe and wayle, til I dye. + + `And over al this, as thou wel wost thy-selve, 400 + This town is ful of ladies al aboute; + And, to my doom, fairer than swiche twelve + As ever she was, shal I finde, in som route, + Ye, oon or two, with-outen any doute. + For-thy be glad, myn owene dere brother, 405 + If she be lost, we shal recovere another. + + `What, god for-bede alwey that ech plesaunce + In o thing were, and in non other wight! + If oon can singe, another can wel daunce; + If this be goodly, she is glad and light; 410 + And this is fayr, and that can good a-right. + Ech for his vertu holden is for dere, + Bothe heroner and faucon for rivere. + + `And eek, as writ Zanzis, that was ful wys, + "The newe love out chaceth ofte the olde;" 415 + And up-on newe cas lyth newe avys. + Thenk eek, thy-self to saven artow holde; + Swich fyr, by proces, shal of kinde colde. + For sin it is but casuel plesaunce, + Som cas shal putte it out of remembraunce. 420 + + `For al-so seur as day cometh after night, + The newe love, labour or other wo, + Or elles selde seinge of a wight, + Don olde affecciouns alle over-go. + And, for thy part, thou shalt have oon of tho 425 + To abrigge with thy bittre peynes smerte; + Absence of hir shal dryve hir out of herte.' + + Thise wordes seyde he for the nones alle, + To helpe his freend, lest he for sorwe deyde. + For douteles, to doon his wo to falle, 430 + He roughte not what unthrift that he seyde. + But Troilus, that neigh for sorwe deyde, + Tok litel hede of al that ever he mente; + Oon ere it herde, at the other out it wente: + + But at the laste answerde and seyde, `Freend, 435 + This lechecraft, or heled thus to be, + Were wel sitting, if that I were a feend, + To traysen hir that trewe is unto me! + I pray god, lat this consayl never y-thee; + But do me rather sterve anon-right here 440 + Er I thus do as thou me woldest lere. + + `She that I serve, y-wis, what so thou seye, + To whom myn herte enhabit is by right, + Shal han me holly hires til that I deye. + For, Pandarus, sin I have trouthe hir hight, 445 + I wol not been untrewe for no wight; + But as hir man I wol ay live and sterve, + And never other creature serve. + + `And ther thou seyst, thou shalt as faire finde + As she, lat be, make no comparisoun 450 + To creature y-formed here by kinde. + O leve Pandare, in conclusioun, + I wol not be of thyn opinioun, + Touching al this; for whiche I thee biseche, + So hold thy pees; thou sleest me with thy speche. 455 + + `Thow biddest me I sholde love an-other + Al freshly newe, and lat Criseyde go! + It lyth not in my power, leve brother. + And though I mighte, I wolde not do so. + But canstow pleyen raket, to and fro, 460 + Netle in, dokke out, now this, now that, Pandare? + Now foule falle hir, for thy wo that care! + + `Thow farest eek by me, thou Pandarus, + As he, that whan a wight is wo bi-goon, + He cometh to him a pas, and seyth right thus, 465 + "Thenk not on smert, and thou shalt fele noon." + Thou most me first transmuwen in a stoon, + And reve me my passiounes alle, + Er thou so lightly do my wo to falle. + + `The deeth may wel out of my brest departe 470 + The lyf, so longe may this sorwe myne; + But fro my soule shal Criseydes darte + Out never-mo; but doun with Proserpyne, + Whan I am deed, I wol go wone in pyne; + And ther I wol eternaly compleyne 475 + My wo, and how that twinned be we tweyne. + + `Thow hast here maad an argument, for fyn, + How that it sholde a lasse peyne be + Criseyde to for-goon, for she was myn, + And live in ese and in felicitee. 480 + Why gabbestow, that seydest thus to me + That "him is wors that is fro wele y-throwe, + Than he hadde erst non of that wele y-knowe?" + + `But tel me now, sin that thee thinketh so light + To chaungen so in love, ay to and fro, 485 + Why hastow not don bisily thy might + To chaungen hir that doth thee al thy wo? + Why niltow lete hir fro thyn herte go? + Why niltow love an-other lady swete, + That may thyn herte setten in quiete? 490 + + `If thou hast had in love ay yet mischaunce, + And canst it not out of thyn herte dryve, + I, that livede in lust and in plesaunce + With hir as muche as creature on-lyve, + How sholde I that foryete, and that so blyve? 495 + O where hastow ben hid so longe in muwe, + That canst so wel and formely arguwe? + + `Nay, nay, god wot, nought worth is al thy reed, + For which, for what that ever may bifalle, + With-outen wordes mo, I wol be deed. 500 + O deeth, that endere art of sorwes alle, + Com now, sin I so ofte after thee calle, + For sely is that deeth, soth for to seyne, + That, ofte y-cleped, cometh and endeth peyne. + + `Wel wot I, whyl my lyf was in quiete, 505 + Er thou me slowe, I wolde have yeven hyre; + But now thy cominge is to me so swete, + That in this world I no-thing so desyre. + O deeth, sin with this sorwe I am a-fyre, + Thou outher do me anoon yn teres drenche, 510 + Or with thy colde strook myn hete quenche! + + `Sin that thou sleest so fele in sondry wyse + Ayens hir wil, unpreyed, day and night, + Do me, at my requeste, this servyse, + Delivere now the world, so dostow right, 515 + Of me, that am the wofulleste wight + That ever was; for tyme is that I sterve, + Sin in this world of right nought may I serve.' + + This Troilus in teres gan distille, + As licour out of alambyk ful faste; 520 + And Pandarus gan holde his tunge stille, + And to the ground his eyen doun he caste. + But nathelees, thus thoughte he at the laste, + `What, parde, rather than my felawe deye, + Yet shal I som-what more un-to him seye:' 525 + + And seyde, `Freend, sin thou hast swich distresse, + And sin thee list myn arguments to blame, + Why nilt thy-selven helpen doon redresse, + And with thy manhod letten al this grame? + Go ravisshe hir ne canstow not for shame! 530 + And outher lat hir out of toune fare, + Or hold hir stille, and leve thy nyce fare. + + `Artow in Troye, and hast non hardiment + To take a womman which that loveth thee, + And wolde hir-selven been of thyn assent? 535 + Now is not this a nyce vanitee? + Rys up anoon, and lat this weping be, + And kyth thou art a man, for in this houre + I wil be deed, or she shal bleven oure.' + + To this answerde him Troilus ful softe, 540 + And seyde, `Parde, leve brother dere, + Al this have I my-self yet thought ful ofte, + And more thing than thou devysest here. + But why this thing is laft, thou shalt wel here; + And whan thou me hast yeve an audience, 545 + Ther-after mayst thou telle al thy sentence. + + `First, sin thou wost this toun hath al this werre + For ravisshing of wommen so by might, + It sholde not be suffred me to erre, + As it stant now, ne doon so gret unright. 550 + I sholde han also blame of every wight, + My fadres graunt if that I so withstode, + Sin she is chaunged for the tounes goode. + + `I have eek thought, so it were hir assent, + To aske hir at my fader, of his grace; 555 + Than thenke I, this were hir accusement, + Sin wel I woot I may hir not purchace. + For sin my fader, in so heigh a place + As parlement, hath hir eschaunge enseled, + He nil for me his lettre be repeled. 560 + + `Yet drede I most hir herte to pertourbe + With violence, if I do swich a game; + For if I wolde it openly distourbe, + It moste been disclaundre to hir name. + And me were lever deed than hir defame, 565 + As nolde god but-if I sholde have + Hir honour lever than my lyf to save! + + `Thus am I lost, for ought that I can see; + For certeyn is, sin that I am hir knight, + I moste hir honour levere han than me 570 + In every cas, as lovere oughte of right. + Thus am I with desyr and reson twight; + Desyr for to destourben hir me redeth, + And reson nil not, so myn herte dredeth.' + + Thus wepinge that he coude never cesse, 575 + He seyde, `Allas! How shal I, wrecche, fare? + For wel fele I alwey my love encresse, + And hope is lasse and lasse alwey, Pandare! + Encressen eek the causes of my care; + So wel-a-wey, why nil myn herte breste? 580 + For, as in love, ther is but litel reste.' + + Pandare answerde, `Freend, thou mayst, for me, + Don as thee list; but hadde ich it so hote, + And thyn estat, she sholde go with me; + Though al this toun cryede on this thing by note, 585 + I nolde sette at al that noyse a grote. + For when men han wel cryed, than wol they roune; + A wonder last but nyne night never in toune. + + `Devyne not in reson ay so depe + Ne curteysly, but help thy-self anoon; 590 + Bet is that othere than thy-selven wepe, + And namely, sin ye two been al oon. + Rys up, for by myn heed, she shal not goon; + And rather be in blame a lyte y-founde + Than sterve here as a gnat, with-oute wounde. 595 + + `It is no shame un-to yow, ne no vyce + Hir to with-holden, that ye loveth most. + Paraunter, she mighte holden thee for nyce + To lete hir go thus to the Grekes ost. + Thenk eek Fortune, as wel thy-selven wost, 600 + Helpeth hardy man to his enpryse, + And weyveth wrecches, for hir cowardyse. + + `And though thy lady wolde a litel hir greve, + Thou shalt thy pees ful wel here-after make, + But as for me, certayn, I can not leve 605 + That she wolde it as now for yvel take. + Why sholde than for ferd thyn herte quake? + Thenk eek how Paris hath, that is thy brother, + A love; and why shaltow not have another? + + `And Troilus, o thing I dar thee swere, 610 + That if Criseyde, whiche that is thy leef, + Now loveth thee as wel as thou dost here, + God helpe me so, she nil nat take a-greef, + Though thou do bote a-noon in this mischeef. + And if she wilneth fro thee for to passe, 615 + Thanne is she fals; so love hir wel the lasse. + + `For-thy tak herte, and thenk, right as a knight, + Thourgh love is broken alday every lawe. + Kyth now sumwhat thy corage and thy might, + Have mercy on thy-self, for any awe. 620 + Lat not this wrecched wo thin herte gnawe, + But manly set the world on sixe and sevene; + And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene. + + `I wol my-self be with thee at this dede, + Though ich and al my kin, up-on a stounde, 625 + Shulle in a strete as dogges liggen dede, + Thourgh-girt with many a wyd and blody wounde. + In every cas I wol a freend be founde. + And if thee list here sterven as a wrecche, + A-dieu, the devel spede him that it recche!' 630 + + This Troilus gan with tho wordes quiken, + And seyde, `Freend, graunt mercy, ich assente; + But certaynly thou mayst not me so priken, + Ne peyne noon ne may me so tormente, + That, for no cas, it is not myn entente, 635 + At shorte wordes, though I dyen sholde, + To ravisshe hir, but-if hir-self it wolde.' + + `Why, so mene I,' quod Pandarus, `al this day. + But tel me than, hastow hir wil assayed, + That sorwest thus?' And he answerde, `Nay.' + `Wher-of artow,' quod Pandare, `than a-mayed, 640 + That nost not that she wol ben y-vel apayed + To ravisshe hir, sin thou hast not ben there, + But-if that Iove tolde it in thyn ere? + + `For-thy rys up, as nought ne were, anoon, 645 + And wash thy face, and to the king thou wende, + Or he may wondren whider thou art goon. + Thou most with wisdom him and othere blende; + Or, up-on cas, he may after thee sende + Er thou be war; and shortly, brother dere, 650 + Be glad, and lat me werke in this matere. + + `For I shal shape it so, that sikerly + Thou shalt this night som tyme, in som manere, + Com speke with thy lady prevely, + And by hir wordes eek, and by hir chere, 655 + Thou shalt ful sone aperceyve and wel here + Al hir entente, and in this cas the beste; + And fare now wel, for in this point I reste.' + + The swifte Fame, whiche that false thinges + Egal reporteth lyk the thinges trewe, 660 + Was thorugh-out Troye y-fled with preste winges + Fro man to man, and made this tale al newe, + How Calkas doughter, with hir brighte hewe, + At parlement, with-oute wordes more, + I-graunted was in chaunge of Antenore. 665 + + The whiche tale anoon-right as Criseyde + Had herd, she, which that of hir fader roughte, + As in this cas, right nought, ne whanne he deyde, + Ful bisily to Iuppiter bisoughte + Yeve hem mischaunce that this tretis broughte. 670 + But shortly, lest thise tales sothe were, + She dorste at no wight asken it, for fere. + + As she that hadde hir herte and al hir minde + On Troilus y-set so wonder faste, + That al this world ne mighte hir love unbinde, 675 + Ne Troilus out of hir herte caste; + She wol ben his, whyl that hir lyf may laste. + And thus she brenneth bothe in love and drede, + So that she niste what was best to rede. + + But as men seen in toune, and al aboute, 680 + That wommen usen frendes to visyte, + So to Criseyde of wommen com a route + For pitous Ioye, and wenden hir delyte; + And with hir tales, dere y-nough a myte, + These wommen, whiche that in the cite dwelle, 685 + They sette hem doun, and seyde as I shal telle. + + Quod first that oon, `I am glad, trewely, + By-cause of yow, that shal your fader see.' + A-nother seyde, `Y-wis, so nam not I, + For al to litel hath she with us be.' 690 + Quod tho the thridde, `I hope, y-wis, that she + Shal bringen us the pees on every syde, + That, whan she gooth, almighty god hir gyde!' + + Tho wordes and tho wommanisshe thinges, + She herde hem right as though she thennes were; 695 + For, god it wot, hir herte on other thing is, + Although the body sat among hem there. + Hir advertence is alwey elles-where; + For Troilus ful faste hir soule soughte; + With-outen word, alwey on him she thoughte. 700 + + Thise wommen, that thus wenden hir to plese, + Aboute nought gonne alle hir tales spende; + Swich vanitee ne can don hir non ese, + As she that, al this mene whyle. brende + Of other passioun than that they wende, 705 + So that she felte almost hir herte deye + For wo, and wery of that companye. + + For which no lenger mighte she restreyne + Hir teres, so they gonnen up to welle, + That yaven signes of the bitter peyne 710 + In whiche hir spirit was, and moste dwelle; + Remembring hir, fro heven unto which helle + She fallen was, sith she forgoth the sighte + Of Troilus, and sorowfully she sighte. + + And thilke foles sittinge hir aboute 715 + Wenden, that she wepte and syked sore + By-cause that she sholde out of that route + Departe, and never pleye with hem more. + And they that hadde y-knowen hir of yore + Seye hir so wepe, and thoughte it kindenesse, 720 + And eche of hem wepte eek for hir destresse; + + And bisily they gonnen hir conforten + Of thing, god wot, on which she litel thoughte; + And with hir tales wenden hir disporten, + And to be glad they often hir bisoughte. 725 + But swich an ese ther-with they hir wroughte + Right as a man is esed for to fele, + For ache of heed, to clawen him on his hele! + + But after al this nyce vanitee + They took hir leve, and hoom they wenten alle. 730 + Criseyde, ful of sorweful pitee, + In-to hir chaumbre up wente out of the halle, + And on hir bed she gan for deed to falle, + In purpos never thennes for to ryse; + And thus she wroughte, as I shal yow devyse. 735 + + Hir ounded heer, that sonnish was of hewe, + She rente, and eek hir fingres longe and smale + She wrong ful ofte, and bad god on hir rewe, + And with the deeth to doon bote on hir bale. + Hir hewe, whylom bright, that tho was pale, 740 + Bar witnes of hir wo and hir constreynte; + And thus she spak, sobbinge, in hir compleynte: + + `Alas!' quod she, `out of this regioun + I, woful wrecche and infortuned wight, + And born in corsed constellacioun, 745 + Mot goon, and thus departen fro my knight; + Wo worth, allas! That ilke dayes light + On which I saw him first with eyen tweyne, + That causeth me, and I him, al this peyne!' + + Therwith the teres from hir eyen two 750 + Doun fille, as shour in Aperill ful swythe; + Hir whyte brest she bet, and for the wo + After the deeth she cryed a thousand sythe, + Sin he that wont hir wo was for to lythe, + She mot for-goon; for which disaventure 755 + She held hir-self a forlost creature. + + She seyde, `How shal he doon, and I also? + How sholde I live, if that I from him twinne? + O dere herte eek, that I love so, + Who shal that sorwe sleen that ye ben inne? 760 + O Calkas, fader, thyn be al this sinne! + O moder myn, that cleped were Argyve, + Wo worth that day that thou me bere on lyve! + + `To what fyn sholde I live and sorwen thus? + How sholde a fish with-oute water dure? 765 + What is Criseyde worth, from Troilus? + How sholde a plaunte or lyves creature + Live, with-oute his kinde noriture? + For which ful oft a by-word here I seye, + That "rotelees, mot grene sone deye." 770 + + `I shal don thus, sin neither swerd ne darte + Dar I non handle, for the crueltee, + That ilke day that I from yow departe, + If sorwe of that nil not my bane be, + Than shal no mete or drinke come in me 775 + Til I my soule out of my breste unshethe; + And thus my-selven wol I do to dethe. + + `And, Troilus, my clothes everichoon + Shul blake been, in tokeninge, herte swete, + That I am as out of this world agoon, 780 + That wont was yow to setten in quiete; + And of myn ordre, ay til deeth me mete, + The observaunce ever, in your absence, + Shal sorwe been, compleynte, and abstinence. + + `Myn herte and eek the woful goost ther-inne 785 + Biquethe I, with your spirit to compleyne + Eternally, for they shal never twinne. + For though in erthe y-twinned be we tweyne, + Yet in the feld of pitee, out of peyne, + That hight Elysos, shul we been y-fere, 790 + As Orpheus and Erudice, his fere. + + `Thus, herte myn, for Antenor, allas! + I sone shal be chaunged, as I wene. + But how shul ye don in this sorwful cas, + How shal youre tendre herte this sustene? 795 + But herte myn, for-yet this sorwe and tene, + And me also; for, soothly for to seye, + So ye wel fare, I recche not to deye.' + + How mighte it ever y-red ben or y-songe, + The pleynte that she made in hir distresse? 800 + I noot; but, as for me, my litel tonge, + If I discreven wolde hir hevinesse, + It sholde make hir sorwe seme lesse + Than that it was, and childishly deface + Hir heigh compleynte, and therfore I it pace. 805 + + Pandare, which that sent from Troilus + Was to Criseyde, as ye han herd devyse, + That for the beste it was accorded thus, + And he ful glad to doon him that servyse, + Un-to Criseyde, in a ful secree wyse, 810 + Ther-as she lay in torment and in rage, + Com hir to telle al hoolly his message, + + And fond that she hir-selven gan to trete + Ful pitously; for with hir salte teres + Hir brest, hir face, y-bathed was ful wete; 815 + The mighty tresses of hir sonnish heres, + Unbroyden, hangen al aboute hir eres; + Which yaf him verray signal of martyre + Of deeth, which that hir herte gan desyre. + + Whan she him saw, she gan for sorwe anoon 820 + Hir tery face a-twixe hir armes hide, + For which this Pandare is so wo bi-goon, + That in the hous he mighte unnethe abyde, + As he that pitee felte on every syde. + For if Criseyde hadde erst compleyned sore, 825 + Tho gan she pleyne a thousand tymes more. + + And in hir aspre pleynte than she seyde, + `Pandare first of Ioyes mo than two + Was cause causinge un-to me, Criseyde, + That now transmuwed been in cruel wo. 830 + Wher shal I seye to yow "wel come" or no, + That alderfirst me broughte in-to servyse + Of love, allas! That endeth in swich wyse? + + `Endeth than love in wo? Ye, or men lyeth! + And alle worldly blisse, as thinketh me. 835 + The ende of blisse ay sorwe it occupyeth; + And who-so troweth not that it so be, + Lat him upon me, woful wrecche, y-see, + That my-self hate, and ay my birthe acorse, + Felinge alwey, fro wikke I go to worse. 840 + + `Who-so me seeth, he seeth sorwe al at ones, + Peyne, torment, pleynte, wo, distresse. + Out of my woful body harm ther noon is, + As anguish, langour, cruel bitternesse, + A-noy, smert, drede, fury, and eek siknesse. 845 + I trowe, y-wis, from hevene teres reyne, + For pitee of myn aspre and cruel peyne! ' + + `And thou, my suster, ful of discomfort,' + Quod Pandarus, `what thenkestow to do? + Why ne hastow to thy-selven som resport, 850 + Why woltow thus thy-selve, allas, for-do? + Leef al this werk and tak now hede to + That I shal seyn, and herkne, of good entente, + This, which by me thy Troilus thee sente.' + + Torned hir tho Criseyde, a wo makinge 855 + So greet that it a deeth was for to see: — + `Allas!' quod she, `what wordes may ye bringe? + What wol my dere herte seyn to me, + Which that I drede never-mo to see? + Wol he have pleynte or teres, er I wende? 860 + I have y-nowe, if he ther-after sende!' + + She was right swich to seen in hir visage + As is that wight that men on bere binde; + Hir face, lyk of Paradys the image, + Was al y-chaunged in another kinde. 865 + The pleye, the laughtre men was wont to finde + On hir, and eek hir Ioyes everychone, + Ben fled, and thus lyth now Criseyde allone. + + Aboute hir eyen two a purpre ring + Bi-trent, in sothfast tokninge of hir peyne, 870 + That to biholde it was a dedly thing, + For which Pandare mighte not restreyne + The teres from his eyen for to reyne. + But nathelees, as he best mighte, he seyde + From Troilus thise wordes to Criseyde. 875 + + `Lo, nece, I trowe ye han herd al how + The king, with othere lordes, for the beste, + Hath mad eschaunge of Antenor and yow, + That cause is of this sorwe and this unreste. + But how this cas doth Troilus moleste, 880 + That may non erthely mannes tonge seye; + For verray wo his wit is al aweye. + + `For which we han so sorwed, he and I, + That in-to litel bothe it hadde us slawe; + But thurgh my conseil this day, fynally, 885 + He somwhat is fro weping now with-drawe. + And semeth me that he desyreth fawe + With yow to been al night, for to devyse + Remede in this, if ther were any wyse. + + `This, short and pleyne, theffect of my message, 890 + As ferforth as my wit can comprehende. + For ye, that been of torment in swich rage, + May to no long prologe as now entende; + And her-upon ye may answere him sende. + And, for the love of god, my nece dere, 895 + So leef this wo er Troilus be here.' + + `Gret is my wo,' quod she, and sighte sore, + As she that feleth dedly sharp distresse; + `But yet to me his sorwe is muchel more, + That love him bet than he him-self, I gesse. 900 + Allas! For me hath he swich hevinesse? + Can he for me so pitously compleyne? + Y-wis, his sorwe doubleth al my peyne. + + `Grevous to me, god wot, is for to twinne,' + Quod she, `but yet it hardere is to me 905 + To seen that sorwe which that he is inne; + For wel wot I, it wol my bane be; + And deye I wol in certayn,' tho quod she; + `But bidde him come, er deeth, that thus me threteth, + Dryve out that goost which in myn herte beteth.' 910 + + Thise wordes seyd, she on hir armes two + Fil gruf, and gan to wepe pitously. + Quod Pandarus, `Allas! Why do ye so, + Syn wel ye woot the tyme is faste by, + That he shal come? Arys up hastely, 915 + That he yow nat biwopen thus ne finde, + But ye wol have him wood out of his minde! + + `For wiste he that ye ferde in this manere, + He wolde him-selve slee; and if I wende + To han this fare, he sholde not come here 920 + For al the good that Pryam may despende. + For to what fyn he wolde anoon pretende, + That knowe I wel; and for-thy yet I seye, + So leef this sorwe, or platly he wol deye. + + `And shapeth yow his sorwe for to abregge, 925 + And nought encresse, leve nece swete; + Beth rather to him cause of flat than egge, + And with som wysdom ye his sorwes bete. + What helpeth it to wepen ful a strete, + Or though ye bothe in salte teres dreynte? 930 + Bet is a tyme of cure ay than of pleynte. + + `I mene thus; whan I him hider bringe, + Sin ye ben wyse, and bothe of oon assent, + So shapeth how distourbe your goinge, + Or come ayen, sone after ye be went. 935 + Wommen ben wyse in short avysement; + And lat sen how your wit shal now avayle; + And what that I may helpe, it shal not fayle.' + + `Go,' quod Criseyde, `and uncle, trewely, + I shal don al my might, me to restreyne 940 + From weping in his sighte, and bisily, + Him for to glade, I shal don al my peyne, + And in myn herte seken every veyne; + If to this soor ther may be founden salve, + It shal not lakken, certain, on myn halve.' 945 + + Goth Pandarus, and Troilus he soughte, + Til in a temple he fond him allone, + As he that of his lyf no lenger roughte; + But to the pitouse goddes everichone + Ful tendrely he preyde, and made his mone, 950 + To doon him sone out of this world to pace; + For wel he thoughte ther was non other grace. + + And shortly, al the sothe for to seye, + He was so fallen in despeyr that day, + That outrely he shoop him for to deye. 955 + For right thus was his argument alwey: + He seyde, he nas but loren, waylawey! + `For al that comth, comth by necessitee; + Thus to be lorn, it is my destinee. + + `For certaynly, this wot I wel,' he seyde, 960 + `That for-sight of divyne purveyaunce + Hath seyn alwey me to for-gon Criseyde, + Sin god seeth every thing, out of doutaunce, + And hem disponeth, thourgh his ordenaunce, + In hir merytes sothly for to be, 965 + As they shul comen by predestinee. + + `But nathelees, allas! Whom shal I leve? + For ther ben grete clerkes many oon, + That destinee thorugh argumentes preve; + And som men seyn that nedely ther is noon; 970 + But that free chois is yeven us everichoon. + O, welaway! So sleye arn clerkes olde, + That I not whos opinion I may holde. + + `For som men seyn, if god seth al biforn, + Ne god may not deceyved ben, pardee, 975 + Than moot it fallen, though men hadde it sworn, + That purveyaunce hath seyn bifore to be. + Wherfor I seye, that from eterne if he + Hath wist biforn our thought eek as our dede, + We have no free chois, as these clerkes rede. 980 + + `For other thought nor other dede also + Might never be, but swich as purveyaunce, + Which may not ben deceyved never-mo, + Hath feled biforn, with-outen ignoraunce. + For if ther mighte been a variaunce 985 + To wrythen out fro goddes purveyinge, + Ther nere no prescience of thing cominge; + + `But it were rather an opinioun + Uncerteyn, and no stedfast forseinge; + And certes, that were an abusioun, 990 + That god shuld han no parfit cleer witinge + More than we men that han doutous weninge. + But swich an errour up-on god to gesse + Were fals and foul, and wikked corsednesse. + + `Eek this is an opinioun of somme 995 + That han hir top ful heighe and smothe y-shore; + They seyn right thus, that thing is not to come + For that the prescience hath seyn bifore + That it shal come; but they seyn that therfore + That it shal come, therfore the purveyaunce 1000 + Wot it biforn with-outen ignoraunce; + + `And in this manere this necessitee + Retorneth in his part contrarie agayn. + For needfully bihoveth it not to be + That thilke thinges fallen in certayn 1005 + That ben purveyed; but nedely, as they seyn, + Bihoveth it that thinges, whiche that falle, + That they in certayn ben purveyed alle. + + `I mene as though I laboured me in this, + To enqueren which thing cause of which thing be; 1010 + As whether that the prescience of god is + The certayn cause of the necessitee + Of thinges that to comen been, pardee; + Or if necessitee of thing cominge + Be cause certeyn of the purveyinge. 1015 + + `But now ne enforce I me nat in shewinge + How the ordre of causes stant; but wel wot I, + That it bihoveth that the bifallinge + Of thinges wist biforen certeynly + Be necessarie, al seme it not ther-by 1020 + That prescience put falling necessaire + To thing to come, al falle it foule or faire. + + `For if ther sit a man yond on a see, + Than by necessitee bihoveth it + That, certes, thyn opinioun soth be, 1025 + That wenest or coniectest that he sit; + And ferther-over now ayenward yit, + Lo, right so it is of the part contrarie, + As thus; (now herkne, for I wol not tarie): + + `I seye, that if the opinioun of thee 1030 + Be sooth, for that he sit, than seye I this, + That he mot sitten by necessitee; + And thus necessitee in either is. + For in him nede of sittinge is, y-wis, + And in thee nede of sooth; and thus, forsothe, 1035 + Ther moot necessitee ben in yow bothe. + + `But thou mayst seyn, the man sit not therfore, + That thyn opinioun of sitting soth is; + But rather, for the man sit ther bifore, + Therfore is thyn opinioun sooth, y-wis. 1040 + And I seye, though the cause of sooth of this + Comth of his sitting, yet necessitee + Is entrechaunged, bothe in him and thee. + + `Thus on this same wyse, out of doutaunce, + I may wel maken, as it semeth me, 1045 + My resoninge of goddes purveyaunce, + And of the thinges that to comen be; + By whiche reson men may wel y-see, + That thilke thinges that in erthe falle, + That by necessitee they comen alle. 1050 + + `For al-though that, for thing shal come, y-wis, + Therfore is it purveyed, certaynly, + Nat that it comth for it purveyed is: + Yet nathelees, bihoveth it nedfully, + That thing to come be purveyed, trewely; 1055 + Or elles, thinges that purveyed be, + That they bityden by necessitee. + + `And this suffyseth right y-now, certeyn, + For to destroye our free chois every del. — + But now is this abusion, to seyn, 1060 + That fallinge of the thinges temporel + Is cause of goddes prescience eternel. + Now trewely, that is a fals sentence, + That thing to come sholde cause his prescience. + + `What mighte I wene, and I hadde swich a thought, 1065 + But that god purveyth thing that is to come + For that it is to come, and elles nought? + So mighte I wene that thinges alle and some, + That whylom been bifalle and over-come, + Ben cause of thilke sovereyn purveyaunce, 1070 + That for-wot al with-outen ignoraunce. + + `And over al this, yet seye I more herto, + That right as whan I woot ther is a thing, + Y-wis, that thing mot nedefully be so; + Eek right so, whan I woot a thing coming, 1075 + So mot it come; and thus the bifalling + Of thinges that ben wist bifore the tyde, + They mowe not been eschewed on no syde.' + + Than seyde he thus, `Almighty Iove in trone, + That wost of al this thing the soothfastnesse, 1080 + Rewe on my sorwe, or do me deye sone, + Or bring Criseyde and me fro this distresse.' + And whyl he was in al this hevinesse, + Disputinge with him-self in this matere, + Com Pandare in, and seyde as ye may here. 1085 + + `O mighty god,' quod Pandarus, `in trone, + Ey! Who seigh ever a wys man faren so? + Why, Troilus, what thenkestow to done? + Hastow swich lust to been thyn owene fo? + What, parde, yet is not Criseyde a-go! 1090 + Why list thee so thy-self for-doon for drede, + That in thyn heed thyn eyen semen dede? + + `Hastow not lived many a yeer biforn + With-outen hir, and ferd ful wel at ese? + Artow for hir and for non other born? 1095 + Hath kinde thee wroughte al-only hir to plese? + Lat be, and thenk right thus in thy disese. + That, in the dees right as ther fallen chaunces, + Right so in love, ther come and goon plesaunces. + + `And yet this is a wonder most of alle, 1100 + Why thou thus sorwest, sin thou nost not yit, + Touching hir goinge, how that it shal falle, + Ne if she can hir-self distorben it. + Thou hast not yet assayed al hir wit. + A man may al by tyme his nekke bede 1105 + Whan it shal of, and sorwen at the nede. + + `For-thy take hede of that that I shal seye; + I have with hir y-spoke and longe y-be, + So as accorded was bitwixe us tweye. + And ever-mor me thinketh thus, that she 1110 + Hath som-what in hir hertes prevetee, + Wher-with she can, if I shal right arede, + Distorbe al this, of which thou art in drede. + + `For which my counseil is, whan it is night, + Thou to hir go, and make of this an ende; 1115 + And blisful Iuno, thourgh hir grete mighte, + Shal, as I hope, hir grace un-to us sende. + Myn herte seyth, "Certeyn, she shal not wende;" + And for-thy put thyn herte a whyle in reste; + And hold this purpos, for it is the beste.' 1120 + + This Troilus answerde, and sighte sore, + `Thou seyst right wel, and I wil do right so;' + And what him liste, he seyde un-to it more. + And whan that it was tyme for to go, + Ful prevely him-self, with-outen mo, 1125 + Un-to hir com, as he was wont to done; + And how they wroughte, I shal yow telle sone. + + Soth is, that whan they gonne first to mete, + So gan the peyne hir hertes for to twiste, + That neither of hem other mighte grete, 1130 + But hem in armes toke and after kiste. + The lasse wofulle of hem bothe niste + Wher that he was, ne mighte o word out-bringe, + As I seyde erst, for wo and for sobbinge. + + Tho woful teres that they leten falle 1135 + As bittre weren, out of teres kinde, + For peyne, as is ligne aloes or galle. + So bittre teres weep nought, as I finde, + The woful Myrra through the bark and rinde. + That in this world ther nis so hard an herte, 1140 + That nolde han rewed on hir peynes smerte. + + But whan hir woful wery gostes tweyne + Retorned been ther-as hem oughte dwelle, + And that som-what to wayken gan the peyne + By lengthe of pleynte, and ebben gan the welle 1145 + Of hire teres, and the herte unswelle, + With broken voys, al hoors for-shright, Criseyde + To Troilus thise ilke wordes seyde: + + `O Iove, I deye, and mercy I beseche! + Help, Troilus!' And ther-with-al hir face 1150 + Upon his brest she leyde, and loste speche; + Hir woful spirit from his propre place, + Right with the word, alwey up poynt to pace. + And thus she lyth with hewes pale and grene, + That whylom fresh and fairest was to sene. 1155 + + This Troilus, that on hir gan biholde, + Clepinge hir name, (and she lay as for deed, + With-oute answere, and felte hir limes colde, + Hir eyen throwen upward to hir heed), + This sorwful man can now noon other reed, 1160 + But ofte tyme hir colde mouth he kiste; + Wher him was wo, god and him-self it wiste! + + He rist him up, and long streight he hir leyde; + For signe of lyf, for ought he can or may, + Can he noon finde in no-thing on Criseyde, 1165 + For which his song ful ofte is `weylaway!' + But whan he saugh that specheles she lay, + With sorwful voys and herte of blisse al bare, + He seyde how she was fro this world y-fare! + + So after that he longe hadde hir compleyned, 1170 + His hondes wrong, and seyde that was to seye, + And with his teres salte hir brest bireyned, + He gan tho teris wypen of ful dreye, + And pitously gan for the soule preye, + And seyde, `O lord, that set art in thy trone, 1175 + Rewe eek on me, for I shal folwe hir sone!' + + She cold was and with-outen sentement, + For aught he woot, for breeth ne felte he noon; + And this was him a preignant argument + That she was forth out of this world agoon; 1180 + And whan he seigh ther was non other woon, + He gan hir limes dresse in swich manere + As men don hem that shul be leyd on bere. + + And after this, with sterne and cruel herte, + His swerd a-noon out of his shethe he twighte, 1185 + Him-self to sleen, how sore that him smerte, + So that his sowle hir sowle folwen mighte, + Ther-as the doom of Mynos wolde it dighte; + Sin love and cruel Fortune it ne wolde, + That in this world he lenger liven sholde. 1190 + + Thanne seyde he thus, fulfild of heigh desdayn, + `O cruel Iove, and thou, Fortune adverse, + This al and som, that falsly have ye slayn + Criseyde, and sin ye may do me no werse, + Fy on your might and werkes so diverse! 1195 + Thus cowardly ye shul me never winne; + Ther shal no deeth me fro my lady twinne. + + `For I this world, sin ye han slayn hir thus, + Wol lete, and folowe hir spirit lowe or hye; + Shal never lover seyn that Troilus 1200 + Dar not, for fere, with his lady dye; + For certeyn, I wol bere hir companye. + But sin ye wol not suffre us liven here, + Yet suffreth that our soules ben y-fere. + + `And thou, citee, whiche that I leve in wo, 1205 + And thou, Pryam, and bretheren al y-fere, + And thou, my moder, farwel! For I go; + And Attropos, make redy thou my bere! + And thou, Criseyde, o swete herte dere, + Receyve now my spirit!' wolde he seye, 1210 + With swerd at herte, al redy for to deye + + But as god wolde, of swough ther-with she abreyde, + And gan to syke, and `Troilus' she cryde; + And he answerde, `Lady myn Criseyde, + Live ye yet?' and leet his swerd doun glyde. 1215 + `Ye, herte myn, that thanked be Cupyde!' + Quod she, and ther-with-al she sore sighte; + And he bigan to glade hir as he mighte; + + Took hir in armes two, and kiste hir ofte, + And hir to glade he dide al his entente; 1220 + For which hir goost, that flikered ay on-lofte, + In-to hir woful herte ayein it wente. + But at the laste, as that hir eyen glente + A-syde, anoon she gan his swerd aspye, + As it lay bare, and gan for fere crye, 1225 + + And asked him, why he it hadde out-drawe? + And Troilus anoon the cause hir tolde, + And how himself ther-with he wolde have slawe. + For which Criseyde up-on him gan biholde, + And gan him in hir armes faste folde, 1230 + And seyde, `O mercy, god, lo, which a dede! + Allas! How neigh we were bothe dede! + + `Thanne if I ne hadde spoken, as grace was, + Ye wolde han slayn your-self anoon?' quod she. + `Ye, douteless;' and she answerde, `Allas! 1235 + For, by that ilke lord that made me, + I nolde a forlong wey on-lyve han be, + After your deeth, to han been crouned quene + Of al the lond the sonne on shyneth shene. + + `But with this selve swerd, which that here is, 1240 + My-selve I wolde han slayn!' — quod she tho; + `But ho, for we han right y-now of this, + And late us ryse and streight to bedde go + And there lat ys speken of oure wo. + For, by the morter which that I see brenne, 1245 + Knowe I ful wel that day is not fer henne.' + + Whan they were in hir bedde, in armes folde, + Nought was it lyk tho nightes here-biforn; + For pitously ech other gan biholde, + As they that hadden al hir blisse y-lorn, 1250 + Biwaylinge ay the day that they were born. + Til at the last this sorwful wight Criseyde + To Troilus these ilke wordes seyde: — + + `Lo, herte myn, wel wot ye this,' quod she, + `That if a wight alwey his wo compleyne, 1255 + And seketh nought how holpen for to be, + It nis but folye and encrees of peyne; + And sin that here assembled be we tweyne + To finde bote of wo that we ben inne, + It were al tyme sone to biginne. 1260 + + `I am a womman, as ful wel ye woot, + And as I am avysed sodeynly, + So wol I telle yow, whyl it is hoot. + Me thinketh thus, that nouther ye nor I + Oughte half this wo to make skilfully. 1265 + For there is art y-now for to redresse + That yet is mis, and sleen this hevinesse. + + `Sooth is, the wo, the whiche that we ben inne, + For ought I woot, for no-thing elles is + But for the cause that we sholden twinne. 1270 + Considered al, ther nis no-more amis. + But what is thanne a remede un-to this, + But that we shape us sone for to mete? + This al and som, my dere herte swete. + + `Now that I shal wel bringen it aboute 1275 + To come ayein, sone after that I go, + Ther-of am I no maner thing in doute. + For dredeles, with-inne a wouke or two, + I shal ben here; and, that it may be so + By alle right, and in a wordes fewe, 1280 + I shal yow wel an heep of weyes shewe. + + `For which I wol not make long sermoun, + For tyme y-lost may not recovered be; + But I wol gon to my conclusioun, + And to the beste, in ought that I can see. 1285 + And, for the love of god, for-yeve it me + If I speke ought ayein your hertes reste; + For trewely, I speke it for the beste; + + `Makinge alwey a protestacioun, + That now these wordes, whiche that I shal seye, 1290 + Nis but to shewe yow my mocioun, + To finde un-to our helpe the beste weye; + And taketh it non other wyse, I preye. + For in effect what-so ye me comaunde, + That wol I doon, for that is no demaunde. 1295 + + `Now herkneth this, ye han wel understonde, + My goinge graunted is by parlement + So ferforth, that it may not be with-stonde + For al this world, as by my Iugement. + And sin ther helpeth noon avysement 1300 + To letten it, lat it passe out of minde; + And lat us shape a bettre wey to finde. + + `The sothe is, that the twinninge of us tweyne + Wol us disese and cruelliche anoye. + But him bihoveth som-tyme han a peyne, 1305 + That serveth love, if that he wol have Ioye. + And sin I shal no ferthere out of Troye + Than I may ryde ayein on half a morwe, + It oughte lesse causen us to sorwe. + + `So as I shal not so ben hid in muwe, 1310 + That day by day, myn owene herte dere, + Sin wel ye woot that it is now a trewe, + Ye shal ful wel al myn estat y-here. + And er that truwe is doon, I shal ben here, + And thanne have ye bothe Antenor y-wonne 1315 + And me also; beth glad now, if ye conne; + + `And thenk right thus, "Criseyde is now agoon, + But what! She shal come hastely ayeyn;" + And whanne, allas? By god, lo, right anoon, + Er dayes ten, this dar I saufly seyn. 1320 + And thanne at erste shul we been so fayn, + So as we shulle to-gederes ever dwelle, + That al this world ne mighte our blisse telle. + + `I see that ofte, ther-as we ben now, + That for the beste, our counseil for to hyde, 1325 + Ye speke not with me, nor I with yow + In fourtenight; ne see yow go ne ryde. + May ye not ten dayes thanne abyde, + For myn honour, in swich an aventure? + Y-wis, ye mowen elles lite endure! 1330 + + `Ye knowe eek how that al my kin is here, + But-if that onliche it my fader be; + And eek myn othere thinges alle y-fere, + And nameliche, my dere herte, ye, + Whom that I nolde leven for to see 1335 + For al this world, as wyd as it hath space; + Or elles, see ich never Ioves face! + + `Why trowe ye my fader in this wyse + Coveiteth so to see me, but for drede + Lest in this toun that folkes me dispyse 1340 + By-cause of him, for his unhappy dede? + What woot my fader what lyf that I lede? + For if he wiste in Troye how wel I fare, + Us neded for my wending nought to care. + + `Ye seen that every day eek, more and more, 1345 + Men trete of pees; and it supposed is, + That men the quene Eleyne shal restore, + And Grekes us restore that is mis. + So though ther nere comfort noon but this, + That men purposen pees on every syde, 1350 + Ye may the bettre at ese of herte abyde. + + `For if that it be pees, myn herte dere, + The nature of the pees mot nedes dryve + That men moste entrecomunen y-fere, + And to and fro eek ryde and gon as blyve 1355 + Alday as thikke as been flen from an hyve; + And every wight han libertee to bleve + Where-as him list the bet, with-outen leve. + + `And though so be that pees ther may be noon, + Yet hider, though ther never pees ne were, 1360 + I moste come; for whider sholde I goon, + Or how mischaunce sholde I dwelle there + Among tho men of armes ever in fere? + For which, as wisly god my soule rede, + I can not seen wher-of ye sholden drede. 1365 + + `Have here another wey, if it so be + That al this thing ne may yow not suffyse. + My fader, as ye knowen wel, pardee, + Is old, and elde is ful of coveityse, + And I right now have founden al the gyse, 1370 + With-oute net, wher-with I shal him hente; + And herkeneth how, if that ye wole assente. + + `Lo, Troilus, men seyn that hard it is + The wolf ful, and the wether hool to have; + This is to seyn, that men ful ofte, y-wis, 1375 + Mot spenden part, the remenant for to save. + For ay with gold men may the herte grave + Of him that set is up-on coveityse; + And how I mene, I shal it yow devyse. + + `The moeble which that I have in this toun 1380 + Un-to my fader shal I take, and seye, + That right for trust and for savacioun + It sent is from a freend of his or tweye, + The whiche freendes ferventliche him preye + To senden after more, and that in hye, 1385 + Whyl that this toun stant thus in Iupartye. + + `And that shal been an huge quantitee, + Thus shal I seyn, but, lest it folk aspyde, + This may be sent by no wight but by me; + I shal eek shewen him, if pees bityde, 1390 + What frendes that ich have on every syde + Toward the court, to doon the wrathe pace + Of Priamus, and doon him stonde in grace. + + `So what for o thing and for other, swete, + I shal him so enchaunten with my sawes, 1395 + That right in hevene his sowle is, shal he mete! + For al Appollo, or his clerkes lawes, + Or calculinge avayleth nought three hawes; + Desyr of gold shal so his sowle blende, + That, as me lyst, I shal wel make an ende. 1400 + + `And if he wolde ought by his sort it preve + If that I lye, in certayn I shal fonde + Distorben him, and plukke him by the sleve, + Makinge his sort, and beren him on honde, + He hath not wel the goddes understonde. 1405 + For goddes speken in amphibologyes, + And, for o sooth they tellen twenty lyes. + + `Eek drede fond first goddes, I suppose, + Thus shal I seyn, and that his cowarde herte + Made him amis the goddes text to glose, 1410 + Whan he for ferde out of his Delphos sterte. + And but I make him sone to converte, + And doon my reed with-inne a day or tweye, + I wol to yow oblige me to deye.' + + And treweliche, as writen wel I finde, 1415 + That al this thing was seyd of good entente; + And that hir herte trewe was and kinde + Towardes him, and spak right as she mente, + And that she starf for wo neigh, whan she wente, + And was in purpos ever to be trewe; 1420 + Thus writen they that of hir werkes knewe. + + This Troilus, with herte and eres spradde, + Herde al this thing devysen to and fro; + And verraylich him semed that he hadde + The selve wit; but yet to lete hir go 1425 + His herte misforyaf him ever-mo. + But fynally, he gan his herte wreste + To trusten hir, and took it for the beste. + + For which the grete furie of his penaunce + Was queynt with hope, and ther-with hem bitwene 1430 + Bigan for Ioye the amorouse daunce. + And as the briddes, whan the sonne is shene, + Delyten in hir song in leves grene, + Right so the wordes that they spake y-fere + Delyted hem, and made hir hertes clere. 1435 + + But natheles, the wending of Criseyde, + For al this world, may nought out of his minde; + For which ful ofte he pitously hir preyde, + That of hir heste he might hir trewe finde, + And seyde hire, `Certes, if ye be unkinde, 1440 + And but ye come at day set in-to Troye, + Ne shal I never have hele, honour, ne Ioye. + + `For al-so sooth as sonne up-rist on morwe, + And, god! So wisly thou me, woful wrecche, + To reste bringe out of this cruel sorwe, 1445 + I wol my-selven slee if that ye drecche. + But of my deeth though litel be to recche, + Yet, er that ye me cause so to smerte, + Dwel rather here, myn owene swete herte! + + `For trewely, myn owene lady dere, 1450 + Tho sleightes yet that I have herd yow stere + Ful shaply been to failen alle y-fere. + For thus men seyn, "That oon thenketh the bere, + But al another thenketh his ledere." + Your sire is wys, and seyd is, out of drede, 1455 + "Men may the wyse at-renne, and not at-rede." + + `It is ful hard to halten unespyed + Bifore a crepul, for he can the craft; + Your fader is in sleighte as Argus yed; + For al be that his moeble is him biraft, 1460 + His olde sleighte is yet so with him laft, + Ye shal not blende him for your womanhede, + Ne feyne a-right, and that is al my drede. + + `I noot if pees shal ever-mo bityde; + But, pees or no, for ernest ne for game, 1465 + I woot, sin Calkas on the Grekis syde + Hath ones been, and lost so foule his name, + He dar no more come here ayein for shame; + For which that weye, for ought I can espye, + To trusten on, nis but a fantasye. 1470 + + `Ye shal eek seen, your fader shal yow glose + To been a wyf, and as he can wel preche, + He shal som Grek so preyse and wel alose, + That ravisshen he shal yow with his speche, + Or do yow doon by force as he shal teche. 1475 + And Troilus, of whom ye nil han routhe, + Shal causeles so sterven in his trouthe! + + `And over al this, your fader shal despyse + Us alle, and seyn this citee nis but lorn; + And that thassege never shal aryse, 1480 + For-why the Grekes han it alle sworn + Til we be slayn, and doun our walles torn. + And thus he shal yow with his wordes fere, + That ay drede I, that ye wol bleve there. + + `Ye shul eek seen so many a lusty knight 1485 + A-mong the Grekes, ful of worthinesse, + And eche of hem with herte, wit, and might + To plesen yow don al his besinesse, + That ye shul dullen of the rudenesse + Of us sely Troianes, but-if routhe 1490 + Remorde yow, or vertue of your trouthe. + + `And this to me so grevous is to thinke, + That fro my brest it wol my soule rende; + Ne dredeles, in me ther may not sinke + A good opinioun, if that ye wende; 1495 + For-why your faderes sleighte wol us shende. + And if ye goon, as I have told yow yore, + So thenk I nam but deed, with-oute more. + + `For which, with humble, trewe, and pitous herte, + A thousand tymes mercy I yow preye; 1500 + So reweth on myn aspre peynes smerte, + And doth somwhat, as that I shal yow seye, + And lat us stele away bitwixe us tweye; + And thenk that folye is, whan man may chese, + For accident his substaunce ay to lese. 1505 + + `I mene this, that sin we mowe er day + Wel stele away, and been to-gider so, + What wit were it to putten in assay, + In cas ye sholden to your fader go, + If that ye mighte come ayein or no? 1510 + Thus mene I, that it were a gret folye + To putte that sikernesse in Iupertye. + + `And vulgarly to speken of substaunce + Of tresour, may we bothe with us lede + Y-nough to live in honour and plesaunce, 1515 + Til in-to tyme that we shal ben dede; + And thus we may eschewen al this drede. + For everich other wey ye can recorde, + Myn herte, y-wis, may not ther-with acorde. + + `And hardily, ne dredeth no poverte, 1520 + For I have kin and freendes elles-where + That, though we comen in oure bare sherte, + Us sholde neither lakke gold ne gere, + But been honured whyl we dwelten there. + And go we anoon, for, as in myn entente, 1525 + This is the beste, if that ye wole assente.' + + Criseyde, with a syk, right in this wyse + Answerde, `Y-wis, my dere herte trewe, + We may wel stele away, as ye devyse, + And finde swich unthrifty weyes newe; 1530 + But afterward, ful sore it wol us rewe. + And help me god so at my moste nede + As causeles ye suffren al this drede! + + `For thilke day that I for cherisshinge + Or drede of fader, or of other wight, 1535 + Or for estat, delyt, or for weddinge, + Be fals to yow, my Troilus, my knight, + Saturnes doughter, Iuno, thorugh hir might, + As wood as Athamante do me dwelle + Eternaly in Stix, the put of helle! 1540 + + `And this on every god celestial + I swere it yow; and eek on eche goddesse, + On every Nymphe and deite infernal, + On Satiry and Fauny more and lesse, + That halve goddes been of wildernesse; 1545 + And Attropos my threed of lyf to-breste + If I be fals; now trowe me if thow leste! + + `And thou, Simoys, that as an arwe clere + Thorugh Troye rennest ay downward to the see, + Ber witnesse of this word that seyd is here, 1550 + That thilke day that ich untrewe be + To Troilus, myn owene herte free, + That thou retorne bakwarde to thy welle, + And I with body and soule sinke in helle! + + `But that ye speke, awey thus for to go 1555 + And leten alle your freendes, god for-bede, + For any womman, that ye sholden so, + And namely, sin Troye hath now swich nede + Of help; and eek of o thing taketh hede, + If this were wist, my lif laye in balaunce, 1560 + And your honour; god shilde us fro mischaunce! + + `And if so be that pees her-after take, + As alday happeth, after anger, game, + Why, lord! The sorwe and wo ye wolden make, + That ye ne dorste come ayein for shame! 1565 + And er that ye Iuparten so your name, + Beth nought to hasty in this hote fare; + For hasty man ne wanteth never care. + + `What trowe ye the peple eek al aboute + Wolde of it seye? It is ful light to arede. 1570 + They wolden seye, and swere it, out of doute, + That love ne droof yow nought to doon this dede, + But lust voluptuous and coward drede. + Thus were al lost, y-wis, myn herte dere, + Your honour, which that now shyneth so clere. 1575 + + `And also thenketh on myn honestee, + That floureth yet, how foule I sholde it shende, + And with what filthe it spotted sholde be, + If in this forme I sholde with yow wende. + Ne though I livede un-to the worldes ende, 1580 + My name sholde I never ayeinward winne; + Thus were I lost, and that were routhe and sinne. + + `And for-thy slee with reson al this hete; + Men seyn, "The suffraunt overcometh," pardee; + Eek "Who-so wol han leef, he lief mot lete;" 1585 + Thus maketh vertue of necessitee + By pacience, and thenk that lord is he + Of fortune ay, that nought wol of hir recche; + And she ne daunteth no wight but a wrecche. + + `And trusteth this, that certes, herte swete, 1590 + Er Phebus suster, Lucina the shene, + The Leoun passe out of this Ariete, + I wol ben here, with-outen any wene. + I mene, as helpe me Iuno, hevenes quene, + The tenthe day, but-if that deeth me assayle, 1595 + I wol yow seen with-outen any fayle.' + + `And now, so this be sooth,' quod Troilus, + `I shal wel suffre un-to the tenthe day, + Sin that I see that nede it moot be thus. + But, for the love of god, if it be may, 1600 + So lat us stele prively away; + For ever in oon, as for to live in reste, + Myn herte seyth that it wol been the beste.' + + `O mercy, god, what lyf is this?' quod she; + `Allas, ye slee me thus for verray tene! 1605 + I see wel now that ye mistrusten me; + For by your wordes it is wel y-sene. + Now, for the love of Cynthia the shene, + Mistrust me not thus causeles, for routhe; + Sin to be trewe I have yow plight my trouthe. 1610 + + `And thenketh wel, that som tyme it is wit + To spende a tyme, a tyme for to winne; + Ne, pardee, lorn am I nought fro yow yit, + Though that we been a day or two a-twinne. + Dryf out the fantasyes yow with-inne; 1615 + And trusteth me, and leveth eek your sorwe, + Or here my trouthe, I wol not live til morwe. + + `For if ye wiste how sore it doth me smerte, + Ye wolde cesse of this; for god, thou wost, + The pure spirit wepeth in myn herte, 1620 + To see yow wepen that I love most, + And that I moot gon to the Grekes ost. + Ye, nere it that I wiste remedye + To come ayein, right here I wolde dye! + + `But certes, I am not so nyce a wight 1625 + That I ne can imaginen a wey + To come ayein that day that I have hight. + For who may holde thing that wol a-way? + My fader nought, for al his queynte pley. + And by my thrift, my wending out of Troye 1630 + Another day shal torne us alle to Ioye. + + `For-thy, with al myn herte I yow beseke, + If that yow list don ought for my preyere, + And for the love which that I love yow eke, + That er that I departe fro yow here, 1635 + That of so good a comfort and a chere + I may you seen, that ye may bringe at reste + Myn herte, which that is at point to breste. + + `And over al this I pray yow,' quod she tho, + `Myn owene hertes soothfast suffisaunce, 1640 + Sin I am thyn al hool, with-outen mo, + That whyl that I am absent, no plesaunce + Of othere do me fro your remembraunce. + For I am ever a-gast, for-why men rede, + That "love is thing ay ful of bisy drede." 1645 + + `For in this world ther liveth lady noon, + If that ye were untrewe, as god defende! + That so bitraysed were or wo bigoon + As I, that alle trouthe in yow entende. + And douteles, if that ich other wende, 1650 + I nere but deed; and er ye cause finde, + For goddes love, so beth me not unkinde.' + + To this answerde Troilus and seyde, + `Now god, to whom ther nis no cause y-wrye, + Me glade, as wis I never un-to Criseyde, 1655 + Sin thilke day I saw hir first with ye, + Was fals, ne never shal til that I dye. + At shorte wordes, wel ye may me leve; + I can no more, it shal be founde at preve.' + + `Graunt mercy, goode myn, y-wis,' quod she, 1660 + `And blisful Venus lat me never sterve + Er I may stonde of plesaunce in degree + To quyte him wel, that so wel can deserve; + And whyl that god my wit wol me conserve, + I shal so doon, so trewe I have yow founde, 1665 + That ay honour to me-ward shal rebounde. + + `For trusteth wel, that your estat royal + Ne veyn delyt, nor only worthinesse + Of yow in werre, or torney marcial, + Ne pompe, array, nobley, or eek richesse, 1670 + Ne made me to rewe on your distresse; + But moral vertue, grounded upon trouthe, + That was the cause I first hadde on yow routhe! + + `Eek gentil herte and manhod that ye hadde, + And that ye hadde, as me thoughte, in despyt 1675 + Every thing that souned in-to badde, + As rudenesse and poeplish appetyt; + And that your reson brydled your delyt, + This made, aboven every creature, + That I was your, and shal, whyl I may dure. 1680 + + `And this may lengthe of yeres not for-do, + Ne remuable fortune deface; + But Iuppiter, that of his might may do + The sorwful to be glad, so yeve us grace, + Er nightes ten, to meten in this place, 1685 + So that it may your herte and myn suffyse; + And fareth now wel, for tyme is that ye ryse.' + + And after that they longe y-pleyned hadde, + And ofte y-kist, and streite in armes folde, + The day gan ryse, and Troilus him cladde, 1690 + And rewfulliche his lady gan biholde, + As he that felte dethes cares colde, + And to hir grace he gan him recomaunde; + Wher him was wo, this holde I no demaunde. + + For mannes heed imaginen ne can, 1695 + Ne entendement considere, ne tonge telle + The cruel peynes of this sorwful man, + That passen every torment doun in helle. + For whan he saugh that she ne mighte dwelle, + Which that his soule out of his herte rente, 1700 + With-outen more, out of the chaumbre he wente. + + Explicit Liber Quartus. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK V. Incipit Liber Quintus. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Aprochen gan the fatal destinee + That Ioves hath in disposicioun, + And to yow, angry Parcas, sustren three, + Committeth, to don execucioun; + For which Criseyde moste out of the toun, 5 + And Troilus shal dwelle forth in pyne + Til Lachesis his threed no lenger twyne. — + + The golden-tressed Phebus heighe on-lofte + Thryes hadde alle with his bemes shene + The snowes molte, and Zephirus as ofte 10 + Y-brought ayein the tendre leves grene, + Sin that the sone of Ecuba the quene + Bigan to love hir first, for whom his sorwe + Was al, that she departe sholde a-morwe. + + Ful redy was at pryme Dyomede, 15 + Criseyde un-to the Grekes ost to lede, + For sorwe of which she felt hir herte blede, + As she that niste what was best to rede. + And trewely, as men in bokes rede, + Men wiste never womman han the care, 20 + Ne was so looth out of a toun to fare. + + This Troilus, with-outen reed or lore, + As man that hath his Ioyes eek forlore, + Was waytinge on his lady ever-more + As she that was the soothfast crop and more 25 + Of al his lust, or Ioyes here-tofore. + But Troilus, now farewel al thy Ioye, + For shaltow never seen hir eft in Troye! + + Soth is, that whyl he bood in this manere, + He gan his wo ful manly for to hyde. 30 + That wel unnethe it seen was in his chere; + But at the yate ther she sholde oute ryde + With certeyn folk, he hoved hir tabyde, + So wo bigoon, al wolde he nought him pleyne, + That on his hors unnethe he sat for peyne. 35 + + For ire he quook, so gan his herte gnawe, + Whan Diomede on horse gan him dresse, + And seyde un-to him-self this ilke sawe, + `Allas,' quod he, `thus foul a wrecchednesse + Why suffre ich it, why nil ich it redresse? 40 + Were it not bet at ones for to dye + Than ever-more in langour thus to drye? + + `Why nil I make at ones riche and pore + To have y-nough to done, er that she go? + Why nil I bringe al Troye upon a rore? 45 + Why nil I sleen this Diomede also? + Why nil I rather with a man or two + Stele hir a-way? Why wol I this endure? + Why nil I helpen to myn owene cure?' + + But why he nolde doon so fel a dede, 50 + That shal I seyn, and why him liste it spare; + He hadde in herte alweyes a maner drede, + Lest that Criseyde, in rumour of this fare, + Sholde han ben slayn; lo, this was al his care. + And ellis, certeyn, as I seyde yore, 55 + He hadde it doon, with-outen wordes more. + + Criseyde, whan she redy was to ryde, + Ful sorwfully she sighte, and seyde `Allas!' + But forth she moot, for ought that may bityde, + And forth she rit ful sorwfully a pas. 60 + Ther nis non other remedie in this cas. + What wonder is though that hir sore smerte, + Whan she forgoth hir owene swete herte? + + This Troilus, in wyse of curteisye, + With hauke on hond, and with an huge route 65 + Of knightes, rood and dide hir companye, + Passinge al the valey fer with-oute, + And ferther wolde han riden, out of doute, + Ful fayn, and wo was him to goon so sone; + But torne he moste, and it was eek to done. 70 + + And right with that was Antenor y-come + Out of the Grekes ost, and every wight + Was of it glad, and seyde he was wel-come. + And Troilus, al nere his herte light, + He peyned him with al his fulle might 75 + Him to with-holde of wepinge at the leste, + And Antenor he kiste, and made feste. + + And ther-with-al he moste his leve take, + And caste his eye upon hir pitously, + And neer he rood, his cause for to make, 80 + To take hir by the honde al sobrely. + And lord! So she gan wepen tendrely! + And he ful softe and sleighly gan hir seye, + `Now hold your day, and dooth me not to deye.' + + With that his courser torned he a-boute 85 + With face pale, and un-to Diomede + No word he spak, ne noon of al his route; + Of which the sone of Tydeus took hede, + As he that coude more than the crede + In swich a craft, and by the reyne hir hente; 90 + And Troilus to Troye homwarde he wente. + + This Diomede, that ladde hir by the brydel, + Whan that he saw the folk of Troye aweye, + Thoughte, `Al my labour shal not been on ydel, + If that I may, for somwhat shal I seye, 95 + For at the worste it may yet shorte our weye. + I have herd seyd, eek tymes twyes twelve, + "He is a fool that wol for-yete him-selve."' + + But natheles this thoughte he wel ynough, + `That certaynly I am aboute nought, 100 + If that I speke of love, or make it tough; + For douteles, if she have in hir thought + Him that I gesse, he may not been y-brought + So sone awey; but I shal finde a mene, + That she not wite as yet shal what I mene.' 105 + + This Diomede, as he that coude his good, + Whan this was doon, gan fallen forth in speche + Of this and that, and asked why she stood + In swich disese, and gan hir eek biseche, + That if that he encrese mighte or eche 110 + With any thing hir ese, that she sholde + Comaunde it him, and seyde he doon it wolde. + + For trewely he swoor hir, as a knight, + That ther nas thing with whiche he mighte hir plese, + That he nolde doon his peyne and al his might 115 + To doon it, for to doon hir herte an ese. + And preyede hir, she wolde hir sorwe apese, + And seyde, `Y-wis, we Grekes con have Ioye + To honouren yow, as wel as folk of Troye.' + + He seyde eek thus, `I woot, yow thinketh straunge, 120 + No wonder is, for it is to yow newe, + Thaqueintaunce of these Troianis to chaunge, + For folk of Grece, that ye never knewe. + But wolde never god but-if as trewe + A Greek ye shulde among us alle finde 125 + As any Troian is, and eek as kinde. + + `And by the cause I swoor yow right, lo, now, + To been your freend, and helply, to my might, + And for that more aqueintaunce eek of yow + Have ich had than another straunger wight, 130 + So fro this forth, I pray yow, day and night, + Comaundeth me, how sore that me smerte, + To doon al that may lyke un-to your herte; + + `And that ye me wolde as your brother trete, + And taketh not my frendship in despyt; 135 + And though your sorwes be for thinges grete, + Noot I not why, but out of more respyt, + Myn herte hath for to amende it greet delyt. + And if I may your harmes not redresse, + I am right sory for your hevinesse, 140 + + `And though ye Troians with us Grekes wrothe + Han many a day be, alwey yet, pardee, + O god of love in sooth we serven bothe. + And, for the love of god, my lady free, + Whom so ye hate, as beth not wroth with me. 145 + For trewely, ther can no wight yow serve, + That half so looth your wraththe wolde deserve. + + `And nere it that we been so neigh the tente + Of Calkas, which that seen us bothe may, + I wolde of this yow telle al myn entente; 150 + But this enseled til another day. + Yeve me your hond, I am, and shal ben ay, + God help me so, whyl that my lyf may dure, + Your owene aboven every creature. + + `Thus seyde I never er now to womman born; 155 + For god myn herte as wisly glade so, + I lovede never womman here-biforn + As paramours, ne never shal no mo. + And, for the love of god, beth not my fo; + Al can I not to yow, my lady dere, 160 + Compleyne aright, for I am yet to lere. + + `And wondreth not, myn owene lady bright, + Though that I speke of love to you thus blyve; + For I have herd or this of many a wight, + Hath loved thing he never saugh his lyve. 165 + Eek I am not of power for to stryve + Ayens the god of love, but him obeye + I wol alwey, and mercy I yow preye. + + `Ther been so worthy knightes in this place, + And ye so fair, that everich of hem alle 170 + Wol peynen him to stonden in your grace. + But mighte me so fair a grace falle, + That ye me for your servaunt wolde calle, + So lowly ne so trewely you serve + Nil noon of hem, as I shal, til I sterve.' 175 + + Criseide un-to that purpos lyte answerde, + As she that was with sorwe oppressed so + That, in effect, she nought his tales herde, + But here and there, now here a word or two. + Hir thoughte hir sorwful herte brast a-two. 180 + For whan she gan hir fader fer aspye, + Wel neigh doun of hir hors she gan to sye. + + But natheles she thonked Diomede + Of al his travaile, and his goode chere, + And that him liste his friendship hir to bede; 185 + And she accepteth it in good manere, + And wolde do fayn that is him leef and dere; + And trusten him she wolde, and wel she mighte, + As seyde she, and from hir hors she alighte. + + Hir fader hath hir in his armes nome, 190 + And tweynty tyme he kiste his doughter swete, + And seyde, `O dere doughter myn, wel-come!' + She seyde eek, she was fayn with him to mete, + And stood forth mewet, milde, and mansuete. + But here I leve hir with hir fader dwelle, 195 + And forth I wol of Troilus yow telle. + + To Troye is come this woful Troilus, + In sorwe aboven alle sorwes smerte, + With felon look, and face dispitous. + Tho sodeinly doun from his hors he sterte, 200 + And thorugh his paleys, with a swollen herte, + To chambre he wente; of no-thing took he hede, + Ne noon to him dar speke a word for drede. + + And there his sorwes that he spared hadde + He yaf an issue large, and `Deeth!' he cryde; 205 + And in his throwes frenetyk and madde + He cursed Iove, Appollo, and eek Cupyde, + He cursed Ceres, Bacus, and Cipryde, + His burthe, him-self, his fate, and eek nature, + And, save his lady, every creature. 210 + + To bedde he goth, and weyleth there and torneth + In furie, as dooth he, Ixion in helle; + And in this wyse he neigh til day soiorneth. + But tho bigan his herte a lyte unswelle + Thorugh teres which that gonnen up to welle; 215 + And pitously he cryde up-on Criseyde, + And to him-self right thus he spak, and seyde: — + + `Wher is myn owene lady lief and dere, + Wher is hir whyte brest, wher is it, where? + Wher ben hir armes and hir eyen clere, 220 + That yesternight this tyme with me were? + Now may I wepe allone many a tere, + And graspe aboute I may, but in this place, + Save a pilowe, I finde nought tenbrace. + + `How shal I do? Whan shal she com ayeyn? 225 + I noot, allas! Why leet ich hir to go? + As wolde god, ich hadde as tho be sleyn! + O herte myn, Criseyde, O swete fo! + O lady myn, that I love and no mo! + To whom for ever-mo myn herte I dowe; 230 + See how I deye, ye nil me not rescowe! + + `Who seeth yow now, my righte lode-sterre? + Who sit right now or stant in your presence? + Who can conforten now your hertes werre? + Now I am gon, whom yeve ye audience? 235 + Who speketh for me right now in myn absence? + Allas, no wight; and that is al my care; + For wel wot I, as yvel as I ye fare. + + `How sholde I thus ten dayes ful endure, + Whan I the firste night have al this tene? 240 + How shal she doon eek, sorwful creature? + For tendernesse, how shal she this sustene, + Swich wo for me? O pitous, pale, and grene + Shal been your fresshe wommanliche face + For langour, er ye torne un-to this place.' 245 + + And whan he fil in any slomeringes, + Anoon biginne he sholde for to grone, + And dremen of the dredfulleste thinges + That mighte been; as, mete he were allone + In place horrible, makinge ay his mone, 250 + Or meten that he was amonges alle + His enemys, and in hir hondes falle. + + And ther-with-al his body sholde sterte, + And with the stert al sodeinliche awake, + And swich a tremour fele aboute his herte, 255 + That of the feer his body sholde quake; + And there-with-al he sholde a noyse make, + And seme as though he sholde falle depe + From heighe a-lofte; and than he wolde wepe, + + And rewen on him-self so pitously, 260 + That wonder was to here his fantasye. + Another tyme he sholde mightily + Conforte him-self, and seyn it was folye, + So causeles swich drede for to drye, + And eft biginne his aspre sorwes newe, 265 + That every man mighte on his sorwes rewe. + + Who coude telle aright or ful discryve + His wo, his pleynt, his langour, and his pyne? + Nought al the men that han or been on-lyve. + Thou, redere, mayst thy-self ful wel devyne 270 + That swich a wo my wit can not defyne. + On ydel for to wryte it sholde I swinke, + Whan that my wit is wery it to thinke. + + On hevene yet the sterres were sene, + Al-though ful pale y-waxen was the mone; 275 + And whyten gan the orisonte shene + Al estward, as it woned is for to done. + And Phebus with his rosy carte sone + Gan after that to dresse him up to fare, + Whan Troilus hath sent after Pandare. 280 + + This Pandare, that of al the day biforn + Ne mighte han comen Troilus to see, + Al-though he on his heed it hadde y-sworn, + For with the king Pryam alday was he, + So that it lay not in his libertee 285 + No-wher to gon, but on the morwe he wente + To Troilus, whan that he for him sente. + + For in his herte he coude wel devyne, + That Troilus al night for sorwe wook; + And that he wolde telle him of his pyne, 290 + This knew he wel y-nough, with-oute book. + For which to chaumbre streight the wey he took, + And Troilus tho sobreliche he grette, + And on the bed ful sone he gan him sette. + + `My Pandarus,' quod Troilus, `the sorwe 295 + Which that I drye, I may not longe endure. + I trowe I shal not liven til to-morwe; + For whiche I wolde alwey, on aventure, + To thee devysen of my sepulture + The forme, and of my moeble thou dispone 300 + Right as thee semeth best is for to done. + + `But of the fyr and flaumbe funeral + In whiche my body brenne shal to glede, + And of the feste and pleyes palestral + At my vigile, I prey thee tak good hede 305 + That be wel; and offre Mars my stede, + My swerd, myn helm, and, leve brother dere, + My sheld to Pallas yef, that shyneth clere. + + `The poudre in which myn herte y-brend shal torne, + That preye I thee thou take and it conserve 310 + In a vessel, that men clepeth an urne, + Of gold, and to my lady that I serve, + For love of whom thus pitously I sterve, + So yeve it hir, and do me this plesaunce, + To preye hir kepe it for a remembraunce. 315 + + `For wel I fele, by my maladye, + And by my dremes now and yore ago, + Al certeinly, that I mot nedes dye. + The owle eek, which that hight Ascaphilo, + Hath after me shright alle thise nightes two. 320 + And, god Mercurie! Of me now, woful wrecche, + The soule gyde, and, whan thee list, it fecche!' + + Pandare answerde, and seyde, `Troilus, + My dere freend, as I have told thee yore, + That it is folye for to sorwen thus, 325 + And causeles, for whiche I can no-more. + But who-so wol not trowen reed ne lore, + I can not seen in him no remedye, + But lete him worthen with his fantasye. + + `But Troilus, I pray thee tel me now, 330 + If that thou trowe, er this, that any wight + Hath loved paramours as wel as thou? + Ye, god wot, and fro many a worthy knight + Hath his lady goon a fourtenight, + And he not yet made halvendel the fare. 335 + What nede is thee to maken al this care? + + `Sin day by day thou mayst thy-selven see + That from his love, or elles from his wyf, + A man mot twinnen of necessitee, + Ye, though he love hir as his owene lyf; 340 + Yet nil he with him-self thus maken stryf. + For wel thow wost, my leve brother dere, + That alwey freendes may nought been y-fere. + + `How doon this folk that seen hir loves wedded + By freendes might, as it bi-tit ful ofte, 345 + And seen hem in hir spouses bed y-bedded? + God woot, they take it wysly, faire and softe. + For-why good hope halt up hir herte on-lofte, + And for they can a tyme of sorwe endure; + As tyme hem hurt, a tyme doth hem cure. 350 + + `So sholdestow endure, and late slyde + The tyme, and fonde to ben glad and light. + Ten dayes nis so longe not tabyde. + And sin she thee to comen hath bihight, + She nil hir hestes breken for no wight. 355 + For dred thee not that she nil finden weye + To come ayein, my lyf that dorste I leye. + + `Thy swevenes eek and al swich fantasye + Dryf out, and lat hem faren to mischaunce; + For they procede of thy malencolye, 360 + That doth thee fele in sleep al this penaunce. + A straw for alle swevenes signifiaunce! + God helpe me so, I counte hem not a bene, + Ther woot no man aright what dremes mene. + + `For prestes of the temple tellen this, 365 + That dremes been the revelaciouns + Of goddes, and as wel they telle, y-wis, + That they ben infernals illusiouns; + And leches seyn, that of complexiouns + Proceden they, or fast, or glotonye. 370 + Who woot in sooth thus what they signifye? + + `Eek othere seyn that thorugh impressiouns, + As if a wight hath faste a thing in minde, + That ther-of cometh swiche avisiouns; + And othere seyn, as they in bokes finde, 375 + That, after tymes of the yeer by kinde, + Men dreme, and that theffect goth by the mone; + But leve no dreem, for it is nought to done. + + `Wel worth of dremes ay thise olde wyves, + And treweliche eek augurie of thise foules; 380 + For fere of which men wenen lese her lyves, + As ravenes qualm, or shryking of thise oules. + To trowen on it bothe fals and foul is. + Allas, allas, so noble a creature + As is a man, shal drede swich ordure! 385 + + `For which with al myn herte I thee beseche, + Un-to thy-self that al this thou foryive; + And rys up now with-oute more speche, + And lat us caste how forth may best be drive + This tyme, and eek how freshly we may live 390 + Whan that she cometh, the which shal be right sone; + God help me so, the beste is thus to done. + + `Rys, lat us speke of lusty lyf in Troye + That we han lad, and forth the tyme dryve; + And eek of tyme cominge us reioye, 395 + That bringen shal our blisse now so blyve; + And langour of these twyes dayes fyve + We shal ther-with so foryete or oppresse, + That wel unnethe it doon shal us duresse. + + `This toun is ful of lordes al aboute, 400 + And trewes lasten al this mene whyle. + Go we pleye us in som lusty route + To Sarpedon, not hennes but a myle. + And thus thou shalt the tyme wel bigyle, + And dryve it forth un-to that blisful morwe, 405 + That thou hir see, that cause is of thy sorwe. + + `Now rys, my dere brother Troilus; + For certes, it noon honour is to thee + To wepe, and in thy bedde to iouken thus. + For trewely, of o thing trust to me, 410 + If thou thus ligge a day, or two, or three, + The folk wol wene that thou, for cowardyse, + Thee feynest syk, and that thou darst not ryse.' + + This Troilus answerde, `O brother dere, + This knowen folk that han y-suffred peyne, 415 + That though he wepe and make sorwful chere, + That feleth harm and smert in every veyne, + No wonder is; and though I ever pleyne, + Or alwey wepe, I am no-thing to blame, + Sin I have lost the cause of al my game. 420 + + `But sin of fyne force I moot aryse, + I shal aryse as sone as ever I may; + And god, to whom myn herte I sacrifyse, + So sende us hastely the tenthe day! + For was ther never fowl so fayn of May, 425 + As I shal been, whan that she cometh in Troye, + That cause is of my torment and my Ioye. + + `But whider is thy reed,' quod Troilus, + `That we may pleye us best in al this toun?' + `Bi god, my conseil is,' quod Pandarus, 430 + `To ryde and pleye us with king Sarpedoun.' + So longe of this they speken up and doun, + Til Troilus gan at the laste assente + To ryse, and forth to Sarpedoun they wente. + + This Sarpedoun, as he that honourable 435 + Was ever his lyve, and ful of heigh prowesse, + With al that mighte y-served been on table, + That deyntee was, al coste it greet richesse, + He fedde hem day by day, that swich noblesse, + As seyden bothe the moste and eek the leste, 440 + Was never er that day wist at any feste. + + Nor in this world ther is non instrument + Delicious, through wind, or touche, of corde, + As fer as any wight hath ever y-went, + That tonge telle or herte may recorde, 445 + That at that feste it nas wel herd acorde; + Ne of ladies eek so fayr a companye + On daunce, er tho, was never y-seyn with ye. + + But what avayleth this to Troilus, + That for his sorwe no-thing of it roughte? 450 + For ever in oon his herte pietous + Ful bisily Criseyde his lady soughte. + On hir was ever al that his herte thoughte, + Now this, now that, so faste imagininge, + That glade, y-wis, can him no festeyinge. 455 + + These ladies eek that at this feste been, + Sin that he saw his lady was a-weye, + It was his sorwe upon hem for to seen, + Or for to here on instrumentz so pleye. + For she, that of his herte berth the keye, 460 + Was absent, lo, this was his fantasye, + That no wight sholde make melodye. + + Nor ther nas houre in al the day or night, + Whan he was ther-as no wight mighte him here, + That he ne seyde, `O lufsom lady bright, 465 + How have ye faren, sin that ye were here? + Wel-come, y-wis, myn owene lady dere.' + But welaway, al this nas but a mase; + Fortune his howve entended bet to glase. + + The lettres eek, that she of olde tyme 470 + Hadde him y-sent, he wolde allone rede, + An hundred sythe, a-twixen noon and pryme; + Refiguringe hir shap, hir womanhede, + With-inne his herte, and every word and dede + That passed was, and thus he droof to an ende 475 + The ferthe day, and seyde, he wolde wende. + + And seyde, `Leve brother Pandarus, + Intendestow that we shal here bleve + Til Sarpedoun wol forth congeyen us? + Yet were it fairer that we toke our leve. 480 + For goddes love, lat us now sone at eve + Our leve take, and homward lat us torne; + For trewely, I nil not thus soiourne.' + + Pandare answerde, `Be we comen hider + To fecchen fyr, and rennen hoom ayeyn? 485 + God helpe me so, I can not tellen whider + We mighten goon, if I shal soothly seyn, + Ther any wight is of us more fayn + Than Sarpedoun; and if we hennes hye + Thus sodeinly, I holde it vilanye. 490 + + `Sin that we seyden that we wolde bleve + With him a wouke; and now, thus sodeinly, + The ferthe day to take of him oure leve, + He wolde wondren on it, trewely! + Lat us holde forth our purpos fermely; 495 + And sin that ye bihighten him to byde, + Hold forward now, and after lat us ryde.' + + Thus Pandarus, with alle peyne and wo, + Made him to dwelle; and at the woukes ende, + Of Sarpedoun they toke hir leve tho, 500 + And on hir wey they spedden hem to wende. + Quod Troilus, `Now god me grace sende, + That I may finden, at myn hom-cominge, + Criseyde comen!' And ther-with gan he singe. + + `Ye, hasel-wode!' thoughte this Pandare, 505 + And to him-self ful softely he seyde, + `God woot, refreyden may this hote fare, + Er Calkas sende Troilus Criseyde!' + But natheles, he Iaped thus, and seyde, + And swor, y-wis, his herte him wel bihighte, 510 + She wolde come as sone as ever she mighte. + + Whan they un-to the paleys were y-comen + Of Troilus, they doun of hors alighte, + And to the chambre hir wey than han they nomen. + And in-to tyme that it gan to nighte, 515 + They spaken of Crysede the brighte. + And after this, whan that hem bothe leste, + They spedde hem fro the soper un-to reste. + + On morwe, as sone as day bigan to clere, + This Troilus gan of his sleep tabrayde, 520 + And to Pandare, his owene brother dere, + `For love of god,' ful pitously he seyde, + `As go we seen the paleys of Criseyde; + For sin we yet may have namore feste, + So lat us seen hir paleys at the leste.' 525 + + And ther-with-al, his meyne for to blende, + A cause he fond in toune for to go, + And to Criseydes hous they gonnen wende. + But lord! This sely Troilus was wo! + Him thoughte his sorweful herte braste a-two. 530 + For whan he saugh hir dores sperred alle, + Wel neigh for sorwe a-doun he gan to falle. + + Therwith, whan he was war and gan biholde + How shet was every windowe of the place, + As frost, him thoughte, his herte gan to colde; 535 + For which with chaunged deedlich pale face, + With-outen word, he forth bigan to pace; + And, as god wolde, he gan so faste ryde, + That no wight of his contenance aspyde. + + Than seyde he thus; `O paleys desolat, 540 + O hous, of houses whylom best y-hight, + O paleys empty and disconsolat, + O thou lanterne, of which queynt is the light, + O paleys, whylom day, that now art night, + Wel oughtestow to falle, and I to dye, 545 + Sin she is went that wont was us to gye! + + `O paleys, whylom croune of houses alle, + Enlumined with sonne of alle blisse! + O ring, fro which the ruby is out-falle, + O cause of wo, that cause hast been of lisse! 550 + Yet, sin I may no bet, fayn wolde I kisse + Thy colde dores, dorste I for this route; + And fare-wel shryne, of which the seynt is oute!' + + Ther-with he caste on Pandarus his ye + With chaunged face, and pitous to biholde; 555 + And whan he mighte his tyme aright aspye, + Ay as he rood, to Pandarus he tolde + His newe sorwe, and eek his Ioyes olde, + So pitously and with so dede an hewe, + That every wight mighte on his sorwe rewe. 560 + + Fro thennesforth he rydeth up and doun, + And every thing com him to remembraunce + As he rood forbi places of the toun + In whiche he whylom hadde al his plesaunce. + `Lo, yond saugh I myn owene lady daunce; 565 + And in that temple, with hir eyen clere, + Me coughte first my righte lady dere. + + `And yonder have I herd ful lustily + My dere herte laugh, and yonder pleye + Saugh I hir ones eek ful blisfully. 570 + And yonder ones to me gan she seye, + "Now goode swete, love me wel, I preye." + And yond so goodly gan she me biholde, + That to the deeth myn herte is to hir holde. + + `And at that corner, in the yonder hous, 575 + Herde I myn alderlevest lady dere + So wommanly, with voys melodious, + Singen so wel, so goodly, and so clere, + That in my soule yet me thinketh I here + The blisful soun; and, in that yonder place, 580 + My lady first me took un-to hir grace.' + + Thanne thoughte he thus, `O blisful lord Cupyde, + Whanne I the proces have in my memorie, + How thou me hast wereyed on every syde, + Men might a book make of it, lyk a storie. 585 + What nede is thee to seke on me victorie, + Sin I am thyn, and hoolly at thy wille? + What Ioye hastow thyn owene folk to spille? + + `Wel hastow, lord, y-wroke on me thyn ire, + Thou mighty god, and dredful for to greve! 590 + Now mercy, lord, thou wost wel I desire + Thy grace most, of alle lustes leve, + And live and deye I wol in thy bileve, + For which I naxe in guerdon but a bone, + That thou Criseyde ayein me sende sone. 595 + + `Distreyne hir herte as faste to retorne + As thou dost myn to longen hir to see; + Than woot I wel, that she nil nought soiorne. + Now, blisful lord, so cruel thou ne be + Un-to the blood of Troye, I preye thee, 600 + As Iuno was un-to the blood Thebane, + For which the folk of Thebes caughte hir bane.' + + And after this he to the yates wente + Ther-as Criseyde out-rood a ful good paas, + And up and doun ther made he many a wente, 605 + And to him-self ful ofte he seyde `Allas! + From hennes rood my blisse and my solas! + As wolde blisful god now, for his Ioye, + I mighte hir seen ayein come in-to Troye! + + `And to the yonder hille I gan hir gyde, 610 + Allas! And there I took of hir my leve! + And yond I saugh hir to hir fader ryde, + For sorwe of which myn herte shal to-cleve. + And hider hoom I com whan it was eve; + And here I dwelle out-cast from alle Ioye, 615 + And shal, til I may seen hir eft in Troye.' + + And of him-self imagened he ofte + To ben defet, and pale, and waxen lesse + Than he was wont, and that men seyden softe, + `What may it be? Who can the sothe gesse 620 + Why Troilus hath al this hevinesse?' + And al this nas but his malencolye, + That he hadde of him-self swich fantasye. + + Another tyme imaginen he wolde + That every wight that wente by the weye 625 + Had of him routhe, and that they seyen sholde, + `I am right sory Troilus wole deye.' + And thus he droof a day yet forth or tweye. + As ye have herd, swich lyf right gan he lede, + As he that stood bitwixen hope and drede. 630 + + For which him lyked in his songes shewe + Thencheson of his wo, as he best mighte, + And made a song of wordes but a fewe, + Somwhat his woful herte for to lighte. + And whan he was from every mannes sighte, 635 + With softe voys he, of his lady dere, + That was absent, gan singe as ye may here. + + `O sterre, of which I lost have al the light, + With herte soor wel oughte I to bewayle, + That ever derk in torment, night by night, 640 + Toward my deeth with wind in stere I sayle; + For which the tenthe night if that I fayle + The gyding of thy bemes brighte an houre, + My ship and me Caribdis wole devoure.' + + This song whan he thus songen hadde, sone 645 + He fil ayein in-to his sykes olde; + And every night, as was his wone to done, + He stood the brighte mone to beholde, + And al his sorwe he to the mone tolde; + And seyde, `Y-wis, whan thou art horned newe, 650 + I shal be glad, if al the world be trewe! + + `I saugh thyn hornes olde eek by the morwe, + Whan hennes rood my righte lady dere, + That cause is of my torment and my sorwe; + For whiche, O brighte Lucina the clere, 655 + For love of god, ren faste aboute thy spere! + For whan thyn hornes newe ginne springe, + Than shal she come, that may my blisse bringe!' + + The day is more, and lenger every night, + Than they be wont to be, him thoughte tho; 660 + And that the sonne wente his course unright + By lenger wey than it was wont to go; + And seyde, `Y-wis, me dredeth ever-mo, + The sonnes sone, Pheton, be on-lyve, + And that his fadres cart amis he dryve.' 665 + + Upon the walles faste eek wolde he walke, + And on the Grekes ost he wolde see, + And to him-self right thus he wolde talke, + `Lo, yonder is myn owene lady free, + Or elles yonder, ther tho tentes be! 670 + And thennes comth this eyr, that is so sote, + That in my soule I fele it doth me bote. + + `And hardely this wind, that more and more + Thus stoundemele encreseth in my face, + Is of my ladyes depe sykes sore. 675 + I preve it thus, for in non othere place + Of al this toun, save onliche in this space, + Fele I no wind that souneth so lyk peyne; + It seyth, "Allas! Why twinned be we tweyne?"' + + This longe tyme he dryveth forth right thus, 680 + Til fully passed was the nynthe night; + And ay bi-syde him was this Pandarus, + That bisily dide alle his fulle might + Him to comforte, and make his herte light; + Yevinge him hope alwey, the tenthe morwe 685 + That she shal come, and stinten al his sorwe. + + Up-on that other syde eek was Criseyde, + With wommen fewe, among the Grekes stronge; + For which ful ofte a day `Allas,' she seyde, + `That I was born! Wel may myn herte longe 690 + After my deeth; for now live I to longe! + Allas! And I ne may it not amende; + For now is wors than ever yet I wende. + + `My fader nil for no-thing do me grace + To goon ayein, for nought I can him queme; 695 + And if so be that I my terme passe, + My Troilus shal in his herte deme + That I am fals, and so it may wel seme. + Thus shal I have unthank on every syde; + That I was born, so weylaway the tyde! 700 + + `And if that I me putte in Iupartye, + To stele awey by nighte, and it bifalle + That I be caught, I shal be holde a spye; + Or elles, lo, this drede I most of alle, + If in the hondes of som wrecche I falle, 705 + I am but lost, al be myn herte trewe; + Now mighty god, thou on my sorwe rewe!' + + Ful pale y-waxen was hir brighte face, + Hir limes lene, as she that al the day + Stood whan she dorste, and loked on the place 710 + Ther she was born, and ther she dwelt hadde ay. + And al the night wepinge, allas! she lay. + And thus despeired, out of alle cure, + She ladde hir lyf, this woful creature. + + Ful ofte a day she sighte eek for destresse, 715 + And in hir-self she wente ay portrayinge + Of Troilus the grete worthinesse, + And alle his goodly wordes recordinge + Sin first that day hir love bigan to springe. + And thus she sette hir woful herte a-fyre 720 + Through remembraunce of that she gan desyre. + + In al this world ther nis so cruel herte + That hir hadde herd compleynen in hir sorwe, + That nolde han wopen for hir peynes smerte, + So tendrely she weep, bothe eve and morwe. 725 + Hir nedede no teres for to borwe. + And this was yet the worste of al hir peyne, + Ther was no wight to whom she dorste hir pleyne. + + Ful rewfully she loked up-on Troye, + Biheld the toures heighe and eek the halles; 730 + `Allas!' quod she, `The plesaunce and the Ioye + The whiche that now al torned in-to galle is, + Have I had ofte with-inne yonder walles! + O Troilus, what dostow now,' she seyde; + `Lord! Whether yet thou thenke up-on Criseyde? 735 + + `Allas! I ne hadde trowed on your lore, + And went with yow, as ye me radde er this! + Thanne hadde I now not syked half so sore. + Who mighte han seyd, that I had doon a-mis + To stele awey with swich on as he is? 740 + But al to late cometh the letuarie, + Whan men the cors un-to the grave carie. + + `To late is now to speke of this matere; + Prudence, allas! Oon of thyn eyen three + Me lakked alwey, er that I come here; 745 + On tyme y-passed, wel remembred me; + And present tyme eek coude I wel y-see. + But futur tyme, er I was in the snare, + Coude I not seen; that causeth now my care. + + `But natheles, bityde what bityde, 750 + I shal to-morwe at night, by est or weste, + Out of this ost stele on som maner syde, + And go with Troilus wher-as him leste. + This purpos wol I holde, and this is beste. + No fors of wikked tonges Ianglerye, 755 + For ever on love han wrecches had envye. + + `For who-so wole of every word take hede, + Or rewlen him by every wightes wit, + Ne shal he never thryven, out of drede. + For that that som men blamen ever yit, 760 + Lo, other maner folk commenden it. + And as for me, for al swich variaunce, + Felicitee clepe I my suffisaunce. + + `For which, with-outen any wordes mo, + To Troye I wol, as for conclusioun.' 765 + But god it wot, er fully monthes two, + She was ful fer fro that entencioun. + For bothe Troilus and Troye toun + Shal knotteles through-out hir herte slyde; + For she wol take a purpos for tabyde. 770 + + This Diomede, of whom yow telle I gan, + Goth now, with-inne him-self ay arguinge + With al the sleighte and al that ever he can, + How he may best, with shortest taryinge, + In-to his net Criseydes herte bringe. 775 + To this entente he coude never fyne; + To fisshen hir, he leyde out hook and lyne. + + But natheles, wel in his herte he thoughte, + That she nas nat with-oute a love in Troye, + For never, sithen he hir thennes broughte, 780 + Ne coude he seen her laughe or make Ioye. + He nist how best hir herte for tacoye. + `But for to assaye,' he seyde, `it nought ne greveth; + For he that nought nassayeth, nought nacheveth.' + + Yet seide he to him-self upon a night, 785 + `Now am I not a fool, that woot wel how + Hir wo for love is of another wight, + And here-up-on to goon assaye hir now? + I may wel wite, it nil not been my prow. + For wyse folk in bokes it expresse, 790 + "Men shal not wowe a wight in hevinesse." + + `But who-so mighte winnen swich a flour + From him, for whom she morneth night and day, + He mighte seyn, he were a conquerour.' + And right anoon, as he that bold was ay, 795 + Thoughte in his herte, `Happe how happe may, + Al sholde I deye, I wole hir herte seche; + I shal no more lesen but my speche.' + + This Diomede, as bokes us declare, + Was in his nedes prest and corageous; 800 + With sterne voys and mighty limes square, + Hardy, testif, strong, and chevalrous + Of dedes, lyk his fader Tideus. + And som men seyn, he was of tunge large; + And heir he was of Calidoine and Arge. 805 + + Criseyde mene was of hir stature, + Ther-to of shap, of face, and eek of chere, + Ther mighte been no fairer creature. + And ofte tyme this was hir manere, + To gon y-tressed with hir heres clere 810 + Doun by hir coler at hir bak bihinde, + Which with a threde of gold she wolde binde. + + And, save hir browes ioyneden y-fere, + Ther nas no lak, in ought I can espyen; + But for to speken of hir eyen clere, 815 + Lo, trewely, they writen that hir syen, + That Paradys stood formed in hir yen. + And with hir riche beautee ever-more + Strof love in hir, ay which of hem was more. + + She sobre was, eek simple, and wys with-al, 820 + The beste y-norisshed eek that mighte be, + And goodly of hir speche in general, + Charitable, estatliche, lusty, and free; + Ne never-mo ne lakkede hir pitee; + Tendre-herted, slydinge of corage; 825 + But trewely, I can not telle hir age. + + And Troilus wel waxen was in highte, + And complet formed by proporcioun + So wel, that kinde it not amenden mighte; + Yong, fresshe, strong, and hardy as lyoun; 830 + Trewe as steel in ech condicioun; + On of the beste enteched creature, + That is, or shal, whyl that the world may dure. + + And certainly in storie it is y-founde, + That Troilus was never un-to no wight, 835 + As in his tyme, in no degree secounde + In durring don that longeth to a knight. + Al mighte a geaunt passen him of might, + His herte ay with the firste and with the beste + Stood paregal, to durre don that him leste. 840 + + But for to tellen forth of Diomede: — + It fil that after, on the tenthe day, + Sin that Criseyde out of the citee yede, + This Diomede, as fresshe as braunche in May, + Com to the tente ther-as Calkas lay, 845 + And feyned him with Calkas han to done; + But what he mente, I shal yow telle sone. + + Criseyde, at shorte wordes for to telle, + Welcomed him, and doun by hir him sette; + And he was ethe y-nough to maken dwelle. 850 + And after this, with-outen longe lette, + The spyces and the wyn men forth hem fette; + And forth they speke of this and that y-fere, + As freendes doon, of which som shal ye here. + + He gan first fallen of the werre in speche 855 + Bitwixe hem and the folk of Troye toun; + And of thassege he gan hir eek byseche, + To telle him what was hir opinioun. + Fro that demaunde he so descendeth doun + To asken hir, if that hir straunge thoughte 860 + The Grekes gyse, and werkes that they wroughte? + + And why hir fader tarieth so longe + To wedden hir un-to som worthy wight? + Criseyde, that was in hir peynes stronge + For love of Troilus, hir owene knight, 865 + As fer-forth as she conning hadde or might, + Answerde him tho; but, as of his entente, + It semed not she wiste what he mente. + + But natheles, this ilke Diomede + Gan in him-self assure, and thus he seyde, 870 + `If ich aright have taken of yow hede, + Me thinketh thus, O lady myn, Criseyde, + That sin I first hond on your brydel leyde, + Whan ye out come of Troye by the morwe, + Ne coude I never seen yow but in sorwe. 875 + + `Can I not seyn what may the cause be + But-if for love of som Troyan it were, + The which right sore wolde athinken me + That ye, for any wight that dwelleth there, + Sholden spille a quarter of a tere, 880 + Or pitously your-selven so bigyle; + For dredelees, it is nought worth the whyle. + + `The folk of Troye, as who seyth, alle and some + In preson been, as ye your-selven see; + Nor thennes shal not oon on-lyve come 885 + For al the gold bitwixen sonne and see. + Trusteth wel, and understondeth me. + Ther shal not oon to mercy goon on-lyve, + Al were he lord of worldes twyes fyve! + + `Swich wreche on hem, for fecching of Eleyne, 890 + Ther shal be take, er that we hennes wende, + That Manes, which that goddes ben of peyne, + Shal been agast that Grekes wol hem shende. + And men shul drede, un-to the worldes ende, + From hennes-forth to ravisshe any quene, 895 + So cruel shal our wreche on hem be sene. + + `And but-if Calkas lede us with ambages, + That is to seyn, with double wordes slye, + Swich as men clepe a "word with two visages," + Ye shal wel knowen that I nought ne lye, 900 + And al this thing right seen it with your ye, + And that anoon; ye nil not trowe how sone; + Now taketh heed, for it is for to done. + + `What wene ye your wyse fader wolde + Han yeven Antenor for yow anoon, 905 + If he ne wiste that the citee sholde + Destroyed been? Why, nay, so mote I goon! + He knew ful wel ther shal not scapen oon + That Troyan is; and for the grete fere, + He dorste not, ye dwelte lenger there. 910 + + `What wole ye more, lufsom lady dere? + Lat Troye and Troyan fro your herte pace! + Dryf out that bittre hope, and make good chere, + And clepe ayein the beautee of your face, + That ye with salte teres so deface. 915 + For Troye is brought in swich a Iupartye, + That, it to save, is now no remedye. + + `And thenketh wel, ye shal in Grekes finde, + A more parfit love, er it be night, + Than any Troian is, and more kinde, 920 + And bet to serven yow wol doon his might. + And if ye vouche sauf, my lady bright, + I wol ben he to serven yow my-selve, + Yee, lever than he lord of Greces twelve!' + + And with that word he gan to waxen reed, 925 + And in his speche a litel wight he quook, + And caste a-syde a litel wight his heed, + And stinte a whyle; and afterward awook, + And sobreliche on hir he threw his look, + And seyde, `I am, al be it yow no Ioye, 930 + As gentil man as any wight in Troye. + + `For if my fader Tydeus,' he seyde, + `Y-lived hadde, I hadde been, er this, + Of Calidoine and Arge a king, Criseyde! + And so hope I that I shal yet, y-wis. 935 + But he was slayn, allas! The more harm is, + Unhappily at Thebes al to rathe, + Polymites and many a man to scathe. + + `But herte myn, sin that I am your man, + And been the ferste of whom I seche grace, 940 + To serven you as hertely as I can, + And ever shal, whyl I to live have space, + So, er that I departe out of this place, + Ye wol me graunte, that I may to-morwe, + At bettre leyser, telle yow my sorwe.' 945 + + What shold I telle his wordes that he seyde? + He spak y-now, for o day at the meste; + It preveth wel, he spak so that Criseyde + Graunted, on the morwe, at his requeste, + For to speken with him at the leste, 950 + So that he nolde speke of swich matere; + And thus to him she seyde, as ye may here: + + As she that hadde hir herte on Troilus + So faste, that ther may it noon arace; + And straungely she spak, and seyde thus; 955 + `O Diomede, I love that ilke place + Ther I was born; and Ioves, for his grace, + Delivere it sone of al that doth it care! + God, for thy might, so leve it wel to fare! + + `That Grekes wolde hir wraththe on Troye wreke, 960 + If that they mighte, I knowe it wel, y-wis. + But it shal not bifallen as ye speke; + And god to-forn, and ferther over this, + I wot my fader wys and redy is; + And that he me hath bought, as ye me tolde, 965 + So dere, I am the more un-to him holde. + + `That Grekes been of heigh condicioun, + I woot eek wel; but certein, men shal finde + As worthy folk with-inne Troye toun, + As conning, and as parfit and as kinde, 970 + As been bitwixen Orcades and Inde. + And that ye coude wel your lady serve, + I trowe eek wel, hir thank for to deserve. + + `But as to speke of love, y-wis,' she seyde, + `I hadde a lord, to whom I wedded was, 975 + The whos myn herte al was, til that he deyde; + And other love, as helpe me now Pallas, + Ther in myn herte nis, ne nevere was. + And that ye been of noble and heigh kinrede, + I have wel herd it tellen, out of drede. 980 + + `And that doth me to han so gret a wonder, + That ye wol scornen any womman so. + Eek, god wot, love and I be fer a-sonder! + I am disposed bet, so mote I go, + Un-to my deeth, to pleyne and maken wo. 985 + What I shal after doon, I can not seye; + But trewely, as yet me list not pleye. + + `Myn herte is now in tribulacioun, + And ye in armes bisy, day by day. + Here-after, whan ye wonnen han the toun, 990 + Paraunter, thanne so it happen may, + That whan I see that I never er say, + Than wole I werke that I never wroughte! + This word to yow y-nough suffysen oughte. + + `To-morwe eek wol I speken with yow fayn, 995 + So that ye touchen nought of this matere. + And whan yow list, ye may come here ayeyn; + And, er ye gon, thus muche I seye yow here; + As help me Pallas with hir heres clere, + If that I sholde of any Greek han routhe, 1000 + It sholde be your-selven, by my trouthe! + + `I sey not therfore that I wol yow love, + Ne I sey not nay, but in conclusioun, + I mene wel, by god that sit above:' — + And ther-with-al she caste hir eyen doun, 1005 + And gan to syke, and seyde, `O Troye toun, + Yet bidde I god, in quiete and in reste + I may yow seen, or do myn herte breste.' + + But in effect, and shortly for to seye, + This Diomede al freshly newe ayeyn 1010 + Gan pressen on, and faste hir mercy preye; + And after this, the sothe for to seyn, + Hir glove he took, of which he was ful fayn. + And fynally, whan it was waxen eve, + And al was wel, he roos and took his leve. 1015 + + The brighte Venus folwede and ay taughte + The wey, ther brode Phebus doun alighte; + And Cynthea hir char-hors over-raughte + To whirle out of the Lyon, if she mighte; + And Signifer his candelse shewed brighte, 1020 + Whan that Criseyde un-to hir bedde wente + In-with hir fadres faire brighte tente. + + Retorning in hir soule ay up and doun + The wordes of this sodein Diomede, + His greet estat, and peril of the toun, 1025 + And that she was allone and hadde nede + Of freendes help; and thus bigan to brede + The cause why, the sothe for to telle, + That she tok fully purpos for to dwelle. + + The morwe com, and goostly for to speke, 1030 + This Diomede is come un-to Criseyde, + And shortly, lest that ye my tale breke, + So wel he for him-selve spak and seyde, + That alle hir sykes sore adoun he leyde. + And fynally, the sothe for to seyne, 1035 + He refte hir of the grete of al hir peyne. + + And after this the story telleth us, + That she him yaf the faire baye stede, + The which he ones wan of Troilus; + And eek a broche (and that was litel nede) 1040 + That Troilus was, she yaf this Diomede. + And eek, the bet from sorwe him to releve, + She made him were a pencel of hir sleve. + + I finde eek in stories elles-where, + Whan through the body hurt was Diomede 1045 + Of Troilus, tho weep she many a tere, + Whan that she saugh his wyde woundes blede; + And that she took to kepen him good hede, + And for to hele him of his sorwes smerte. + Men seyn, I not, that she yaf him hir herte. 1050 + + But trewely, the story telleth us, + Ther made never womman more wo + Than she, whan that she falsed Troilus. + She seyde, `Allas! For now is clene a-go + My name of trouthe in love, for ever-mo! 1055 + For I have falsed oon, the gentileste + That ever was, and oon the worthieste! + + `Allas, of me, un-to the worldes ende, + Shal neither been y-writen nor y-songe + No good word, for thise bokes wol me shende. 1060 + O, rolled shal I been on many a tonge; + Through-out the world my belle shal be ronge; + And wommen most wol hate me of alle. + Allas, that swich a cas me sholde falle! + + `They wol seyn, in as muche as in me is, 1065 + I have hem don dishonour, weylawey! + Al be I not the first that dide amis, + What helpeth that to do my blame awey? + But sin I see there is no bettre way, + And that to late is now for me to rewe, 1070 + To Diomede algate I wol be trewe. + + `But Troilus, sin I no better may, + And sin that thus departen ye and I, + Yet preye I god, so yeve yow right good day + As for the gentileste, trewely, 1075 + That ever I say, to serven feithfully, + And best can ay his lady honour kepe:' — + And with that word she brast anon to wepe. + + `And certes yow ne haten shal I never, + And freendes love, that shal ye han of me, 1080 + And my good word, al mighte I liven ever. + And, trewely, I wolde sory be + For to seen yow in adversitee. + And giltelees, I woot wel, I yow leve; + But al shal passe; and thus take I my leve.' 1085 + + But trewely, how longe it was bitwene, + That she for-sook him for this Diomede, + Ther is non auctor telleth it, I wene. + Take every man now to his bokes hede; + He shal no terme finden, out of drede. 1090 + For though that he bigan to wowe hir sone, + Er he hir wan, yet was ther more to done. + + Ne me ne list this sely womman chyde + Ferther than the story wol devyse. + Hir name, allas! Is publisshed so wyde, 1095 + That for hir gilt it oughte y-noe suffyse. + And if I mighte excuse hir any wyse, + For she so sory was for hir untrouthe, + Y-wis, I wolde excuse hir yet for routhe. + + This Troilus, as I biforn have told, 1100 + Thus dryveth forth, as wel as he hath might. + But often was his herte hoot and cold, + And namely, that ilke nynthe night, + Which on the morwe she hadde him byhight + To come ayein: god wot, ful litel reste 1105 + Hadde he that night; no-thing to slepe him leste. + + The laurer-crouned Phebus, with his hete, + Gan, in his course ay upward as he wente, + To warmen of the est see the wawes wete, + And Nisus doughter song with fresh entente, 1110 + Whan Troilus his Pandare after sente; + And on the walles of the toun they pleyde, + To loke if they can seen ought of Criseyde. + + Til it was noon, they stoden for to see + Who that ther come; and every maner wight, 1115 + That cam fro fer, they seyden it was she, + Til that they coude knowen him a-right. + Now was his herte dul, now was it light; + And thus by-iaped stonden for to stare + Aboute nought, this Troilus and Pandare. 1120 + + To Pandarus this Troilus tho seyde, + `For ought I wot, bi-for noon, sikerly, + In-to this toun ne comth nought here Criseyde. + She hath y-now to done, hardily, + To winnen from hir fader, so trowe I; 1125 + Hir olde fader wol yet make hir dyne + Er that she go; god yeve his herte pyne!' + + Pandare answerde, `It may wel be, certeyn; + And for-thy lat us dyne, I thee biseche; + And after noon than maystw thou come ayeyn.' 1130 + And hoom they go, with-oute more speche; + And comen ayein, but longe may they seche + Er that they finde that they after cape; + Fortune hem bothe thenketh for to Iape. + + Quod Troilus, `I see wel now, that she 1135 + Is taried with hir olde fader so, + That er she come, it wole neigh even be. + Com forth, I wol un-to the yate go. + Thise portours been unkonninge ever-mo; + And I wol doon hem holden up the yate 1140 + As nought ne were, al-though she come late.' + + The day goth faste, and after that comth eve, + And yet com nought to Troilus Criseyde. + He loketh forth by hegge, by tree, by greve, + And fer his heed over the wal he leyde. 1145 + And at the laste he torned him, and seyde. + `By god, I woot hir mening now, Pandare! + Al-most, y-wis, al newe was my care. + + `Now douteles, this lady can hir good; + I woot, she meneth ryden prively. 1150 + I comende hir wysdom, by myn hood! + She wol not maken peple nycely + Gaure on hir, whan she comth; but softely + By nighte in-to the toun she thenketh ryde. + And, dere brother, thenk not longe to abyde. 1155 + + `We han nought elles for to don, y-wis. + And Pandarus, now woltow trowen me? + Have here my trouthe, I see hir! Yond she is. + Heve up thyn eyen, man! Maystow not see?' + Pandare answerde, `Nay, so mote I thee! 1160 + Al wrong, by god; what seystow, man, wher art? + That I see yond nis but a fare-cart.' + + `Allas, thou seist right sooth,' quod Troilus; + `But, hardely, it is not al for nought + That in myn herte I now reioyse thus. 1165 + It is ayein som good I have a thought. + Noot I not how, but sin that I was wrought, + Ne felte I swich a confort, dar I seye; + She comth to-night, my lyf, that dorste I leye!' + + Pandare answerde, `It may be wel, y-nough'; 1170 + And held with him of al that ever he seyde; + But in his herte he thoughte, and softe lough, + And to him-self ful sobrely he seyde: + `From hasel-wode, ther Ioly Robin pleyde, + Shal come al that thou abydest here; 1175 + Ye, fare-wel al the snow of ferne yere!' + + The wardein of the yates gan to calle + The folk which that with-oute the yates were, + And bad hem dryven in hir bestes alle, + Or al the night they moste bleven there. 1180 + And fer with-in the night, with many a tere, + This Troilus gan hoomward for to ryde; + For wel he seeth it helpeth nought tabyde. + + But natheles, he gladded him in this; + He thoughte he misacounted hadde his day, 1185 + And seyde, `I understonde have al a-mis. + For thilke night I last Criseyde say, + She seyde, "I shal ben here, if that I may, + Er that the mone, O dere herte swete! + The Lyon passe, out of this Ariete." 1190 + + `For which she may yet holde al hir biheste.' + And on the morwe un-to the yate he wente, + And up and down, by west and eek by este, + Up-on the walles made he many a wente. + But al for nought; his hope alwey him blente; 1195 + For which at night, in sorwe and sykes sore, + He wente him hoom, with-outen any more. + + This hope al clene out of his herte fledde, + He nath wher-on now lenger for to honge; + But for the peyne him thoughte his herte bledde, 1200 + So were his throwes sharpe and wonder stronge. + For when he saugh that she abood so longe, + He niste what he iuggen of it mighte, + Sin she hath broken that she him bihighte. + + The thridde, ferthe, fifte, sixte day 1205 + After tho dayes ten, of which I tolde, + Bitwixen hope and drede his herte lay, + Yet som-what trustinge on hir hestes olde. + But whan he saugh she nolde hir terme holde, + He can now seen non other remedye, 1210 + But for to shape him sone for to dye. + + Ther-with the wikked spirit, god us blesse, + Which that men clepeth wode Ialousye, + Gan in him crepe, in al this hevinesse; + For which, by-cause he wolde sone dye, 1215 + He ne eet ne dronk, for his malencolye, + And eek from every companye he fledde; + This was the lyf that al the tyme he ledde. + + He so defet was, that no maner man + Unneth mighte him knowe ther he wente; 1220 + So was he lene, and ther-to pale and wan, + And feble, that he walketh by potente; + And with his ire he thus himselven shente. + But who-so axed him wher-of him smerte, + He seyde, his harm was al aboute his herte. 1225 + + Pryam ful ofte, and eek his moder dere, + His bretheren and his sustren gonne him freyne + Why he so sorwful was in al his chere, + And what thing was the cause of al his peyne? + But al for nought; he nolde his cause pleyne, 1230 + But seyde, he felte a grevous maladye + A-boute his herte, and fayn he wolde dye. + + So on a day he leyde him doun to slepe, + And so bifel that in his sleep him thoughte, + That in a forest faste he welk to wepe 1235 + For love of hir that him these peynes wroughte; + And up and doun as he the forest soughte, + He mette he saugh a boor with tuskes grete, + That sleep ayein the brighte sonnes hete. + + And by this boor, faste in his armes folde, 1240 + Lay kissing ay his lady bright Criseyde: + For sorwe of which, whan he it gan biholde, + And for despyt, out of his slepe he breyde, + And loude he cryde on Pandarus, and seyde, + `O Pandarus, now knowe I crop and rote! 1245 + I nam but deed; ther nis non other bote! + + `My lady bright Criseyde hath me bitrayed, + In whom I trusted most of any wight, + She elles-where hath now hir herte apayed; + The blisful goddes, through hir grete might, 1250 + Han in my dreem y-shewed it ful right. + Thus in my dreem Criseyde I have biholde' — + And al this thing to Pandarus he tolde. + + `O my Criseyde, allas! What subtiltee. + What newe lust, what beautee, what science, 1255 + What wratthe of iuste cause have ye to me? + What gilt of me, what fel experience + Hath fro me raft, allas! Thyn advertence? + O trust, O feyth, O depe aseuraunce, + Who hath me reft Criseyde, al my plesaunce? 1260 + + `Allas! Why leet I you from hennes go, + For which wel neigh out of my wit I breyde? + Who shal now trowe on any othes mo? + God wot I wende, O lady bright, Criseyde, + That every word was gospel that ye seyde! 1265 + But who may bet bigylen, yf him liste, + Than he on whom men weneth best to triste? + + `What shal I doon, my Pandarus, allas! + I fele now so sharpe a newe peyne, + Sin that ther is no remedie in this cas, 1270 + That bet were it I with myn hondes tweyne + My-selven slow, than alwey thus to pleyne. + For through my deeth my wo sholde han an ende, + Ther every day with lyf my-self I shende.' + + Pandare answerde and seyde, `Allas the whyle 1275 + That I was born; have I not seyd er this, + That dremes many a maner man bigyle? + And why? For folk expounden hem a-mis. + How darstow seyn that fals thy lady is, + For any dreem, right for thyn owene drede? 1280 + Lat be this thought, thou canst no dremes rede. + + `Paraunter, ther thou dremest of this boor, + It may so be that it may signifye + Hir fader, which that old is and eek hoor, + Ayein the sonne lyth, on poynt to dye, 1285 + And she for sorwe ginneth wepe and crye, + And kisseth him, ther he lyth on the grounde; + Thus shuldestow thy dreem a-right expounde.' + + `How mighte I thanne do?' quod Troilus, + `To knowe of this, ye, were it never so lyte?' 1290 + `Now seystow wysly,' quod this Pandarus, + `My reed is this, sin thou canst wel endyte, + That hastely a lettre thou hir wryte, + Thorugh which thou shalt wel bringen it aboute, + To knowe a sooth of that thou art in doute. 1295 + + `And see now why; for this I dar wel seyn, + That if so is that she untrewe be, + I can not trowe that she wol wryte ayeyn. + And if she wryte, thou shalt ful sone see, + As whether she hath any libertee 1300 + To come ayein, or ellis in som clause, + If she be let, she wol assigne a cause. + + `Thou hast not writen hir sin that she wente, + Nor she to thee, and this I dorste leye, + Ther may swich cause been in hir entente, 1305 + That hardely thou wolt thy-selven seye, + That hir a-bood the beste is for yow tweye. + Now wryte hir thanne, and thou shalt fele sone + A sothe of al; ther is no more to done.' + + Acorded been to this conclusioun, 1310 + And that anoon, these ilke lordes two; + And hastely sit Troilus adoun, + And rolleth in his herte to and fro, + How he may best discryven hir his wo. + And to Criseyde, his owene lady dere, 1315 + He wroot right thus, and seyde as ye may here. + + `Right fresshe flour, whos I have been and shal, + With-outen part of elles-where servyse, + With herte, body, lyf, lust, thought, and al; + I, woful wight, in every humble wyse 1320 + That tonge telle or herte may devyse, + As ofte as matere occupyeth place, + Me recomaunde un-to your noble grace. + + `Lyketh it yow to witen, swete herte, + As ye wel knowe how longe tyme agoon 1325 + That ye me lefte in aspre peynes smerte, + Whan that ye wente, of which yet bote noon + Have I non had, but ever wers bigoon + Fro day to day am I, and so mot dwelle, + While it yow list, of wele and wo my welle. 1330 + + `For which to yow, with dredful herte trewe, + I wryte, as he that sorwe dryfth to wryte, + My wo, that every houre encreseth newe, + Compleyninge as I dar or can endyte. + And that defaced is, that may ye wyte 1335 + The teres, which that fro myn eyen reyne, + That wolde speke, if that they coude, and pleyne. + + `Yow first biseche I, that your eyen clere + To look on this defouled ye not holde; + And over al this, that ye, my lady dere, 1340 + Wol vouche-sauf this lettre to biholde. + And by the cause eek of my cares colde, + That sleeth my wit, if ought amis me asterte, + For-yeve it me, myn owene swete herte. + + `If any servant dorste or oughte of right 1345 + Up-on his lady pitously compleyne, + Than wene I, that ich oughte be that wight, + Considered this, that ye these monthes tweyne + Han taried, ther ye seyden, sooth to seyne, + But dayes ten ye nolde in ost soiourne, 1350 + But in two monthes yet ye not retourne. + + `But for-as-muche as me mot nedes lyke + Al that yow list, I dar not pleyne more, + But humbely with sorwful sykes syke; + Yow wryte ich myn unresty sorwes sore, 1355 + Fro day to day desyring ever-more + To knowen fully, if your wil it were, + How ye han ferd and doon, whyl ye be there. + + `The whos wel-fare and hele eek god encresse + In honour swich, that upward in degree 1360 + It growe alwey, so that it never cesse; + Right as your herte ay can, my lady free, + Devyse, I prey to god so mote it be. + And graunte it that ye sone up-on me rewe + As wisly as in al I am yow trewe. 1365 + + `And if yow lyketh knowen of the fare + Of me, whos wo ther may no wight discryve, + I can no more but, cheste of every care, + At wrytinge of this lettre I was on-lyve, + Al redy out my woful gost to dryve; 1370 + Which I delaye, and holde him yet in honde, + Upon the sight of matere of your sonde. + + `Myn eyen two, in veyn with which I see, + Of sorweful teres salte arn waxen welles; + My song, in pleynte of myn adversitee; 1375 + My good, in harm; myn ese eek waxen helle is. + My Ioye, in wo; I can sey yow nought elles, + But turned is, for which my lyf I warie, + Everich Ioye or ese in his contrarie. + + `Which with your cominge hoom ayein to Troye 1380 + Ye may redresse, and, more a thousand sythe + Than ever ich hadde, encressen in me Ioye. + For was ther never herte yet so blythe + To han his lyf, as I shal been as swythe + As I yow see; and, though no maner routhe 1385 + Commeve yow, yet thinketh on your trouthe. + + `And if so be my gilt hath deeth deserved, + Or if yow list no more up-on me see, + In guerdon yet of that I have you served, + Biseche I yow, myn hertes lady free, 1390 + That here-upon ye wolden wryte me, + For love of god, my righte lode-sterre, + Ther deeth may make an ende of al my werre. + + `If other cause aught doth yow for to dwelle, + That with your lettre ye me recomforte; 1395 + For though to me your absence is an helle, + With pacience I wol my wo comporte, + And with your lettre of hope I wol desporte. + Now wryteth, swete, and lat me thus not pleyne; + With hope, or deeth, delivereth me fro peyne. 1400 + + `Y-wis, myn owene dere herte trewe, + I woot that, whan ye next up-on me see, + So lost have I myn hele and eek myn hewe, + Criseyde shal nought conne knowe me! + Y-wis, myn hertes day, my lady free, 1405 + So thursteth ay myn herte to biholde + Your beautee, that my lyf unnethe I holde. + + `I sey no more, al have I for to seye + To you wel more than I telle may; + But whether that ye do me live or deye, 1410 + Yet pray I god, so yeve yow right good day. + And fareth wel, goodly fayre fresshe may, + As ye that lyf or deeth me may comaunde; + And to your trouthe ay I me recomaunde + + `With hele swich that, but ye yeven me 1415 + The same hele, I shal noon hele have. + In you lyth, whan yow liste that it so be, + The day in which me clothen shal my grave. + In yow my lyf, in yow might for to save + Me from disese of alle peynes smerte; 1420 + And fare now wel, myn owene swete herte! + Le vostre T.' + + This lettre forth was sent un-to Criseyde, + Of which hir answere in effect was this; + Ful pitously she wroot ayein, and seyde, + That also sone as that she might, y-wis, 1425 + She wolde come, and mende al that was mis. + And fynally she wroot and seyde him thanne, + She wolde come, ye, but she niste whenne. + + But in hir lettre made she swich festes, + That wonder was, and swereth she loveth him best, 1430 + Of which he fond but botmelees bihestes. + But Troilus, thou mayst now, est or west, + Pype in an ivy leef, if that thee lest; + Thus gooth the world; god shilde us fro mischaunce, + And every wight that meneth trouthe avaunce! 1435 + + Encresen gan the wo fro day to night + Of Troilus, for taryinge of Criseyde; + And lessen gan his hope and eek his might, + For which al doun he in his bed him leyde; + He ne eet, ne dronk, ne sleep, ne word he seyde, 1440 + Imagininge ay that she was unkinde; + For which wel neigh he wex out of his minde. + + This dreem, of which I told have eek biforn, + May never come out of his remembraunce; + He thoughte ay wel he hadde his lady lorn, 1445 + And that Ioves, of his purveyaunce, + Him shewed hadde in sleep the signifiaunce + Of hir untrouthe and his disaventure, + And that the boor was shewed him in figure. + + For which he for Sibille his suster sente, 1450 + That called was Cassandre eek al aboute; + And al his dreem he tolde hir er he stente, + And hir bisoughte assoilen him the doute + Of the stronge boor, with tuskes stoute; + And fynally, with-inne a litel stounde, 1455 + Cassandre him gan right thus his dreem expounde. + + She gan first smyle, and seyde, `O brother dere, + If thou a sooth of this desyrest knowe, + Thou most a fewe of olde stories here, + To purpos, how that fortune over-throwe 1460 + Hath lordes olde; through which, with-inne a throwe, + Thou wel this boor shalt knowe, and of what kinde + He comen is, as men in bokes finde. + + `Diane, which that wrooth was and in ire + For Grekes nolde doon hir sacrifyse, 1465 + Ne encens up-on hir auter sette a-fyre, + She, for that Grekes gonne hir so dispyse, + Wrak hir in a wonder cruel wyse. + For with a boor as greet as oxe in stalle + She made up frete hir corn and vynes alle. 1470 + + `To slee this boor was al the contree reysed, + A-monges which ther com, this boor to see, + A mayde, oon of this world the best y-preysed; + And Meleagre, lord of that contree, + He lovede so this fresshe mayden free 1475 + That with his manhod, er he wolde stente, + This boor he slow, and hir the heed he sente; + + `Of which, as olde bokes tellen us, + Ther roos a contek and a greet envye; + And of this lord descended Tydeus 1480 + By ligne, or elles olde bokes lye; + But how this Meleagre gan to dye + Thorugh his moder, wol I yow not telle, + For al to long it were for to dwelle.' + + [Argument of the 12 Books of Statius' "Thebais"] + + Associat profugum Tideo primus Polimitem; + Tidea legatum docet insidiasque secundus; + Tercius Hemoniden canit et vates latitantes; + Quartus habet reges ineuntes prelia septem; + Mox furie Lenne quinto narratur et anguis; + Archimori bustum sexto ludique leguntur; + Dat Graios Thebes et vatem septimus vmbria; + Octauo cecidit Tideus, spes, vita Pelasgia; + Ypomedon nono moritur cum Parthonopeo; + Fulmine percussus, decimo Capaneus superatur; + Vndecimo sese perimunt per vulnera fratres; + Argiuam flentem narrat duodenus et igneum. + + She tolde eek how Tydeus, er she stente, 1485 + Un-to the stronge citee of Thebes, + To cleyme kingdom of the citee, wente, + For his felawe, daun Polymites, + Of which the brother, daun Ethyocles, + Ful wrongfully of Thebes held the strengthe; 1490 + This tolde she by proces, al by lengthe. + + She tolde eek how Hemonides asterte, + Whan Tydeus slough fifty knightes stoute. + She tolde eek al the prophesyes by herte, + And how that sevene kinges, with hir route, 1495 + Bisegeden the citee al aboute; + And of the holy serpent, and the welle, + And of the furies, al she gan him telle. + + Of Archimoris buryinge and the pleyes, + And how Amphiorax fil through the grounde, 1500 + How Tydeus was slayn, lord of Argeyes, + And how Ypomedoun in litel stounde + Was dreynt, and deed Parthonope of wounde; + And also how Cappaneus the proude + With thonder-dint was slayn, that cryde loude. 1505 + + She gan eek telle him how that either brother, + Ethyocles and Polimyte also, + At a scarmyche, eche of hem slough other, + And of Argyves wepinge and hir wo; + And how the town was brent she tolde eek tho. 1510 + And so descendeth doun from gestes olde + To Diomede, and thus she spak and tolde. + + `This ilke boor bitokneth Diomede, + Tydeus sone, that doun descended is + Fro Meleagre, that made the boor to blede. 1515 + And thy lady, wher-so she be, y-wis, + This Diomede hir herte hath, and she his. + Weep if thou wolt, or leef; for, out of doute, + This Diomede is inne, and thou art oute.' + + `Thou seyst nat sooth,' quod he, `thou sorceresse, 1520 + With al thy false goost of prophesye! + Thou wenest been a greet devyneresse; + Now seestow not this fool of fantasye + Peyneth hir on ladyes for to lye? + Awey!' quod he. `Ther Ioves yeve thee sorwe! 1525 + Thou shalt be fals, paraunter, yet to-morwe! + + `As wel thou mightest lyen on Alceste, + That was of creatures, but men lye, + That ever weren, kindest and the beste. + For whanne hir housbonde was in Iupartye 1530 + To dye him-self, but-if she wolde dye, + She chees for him to dye and go to helle, + And starf anoon, as us the bokes telle.' + + Cassandre goth, and he with cruel herte + For-yat his wo, for angre of hir speche; 1535 + And from his bed al sodeinly he sterte, + As though al hool him hadde y-mad a leche. + And day by day he gan enquere and seche + A sooth of this, with al his fulle cure; + And thus he dryeth forth his aventure. 1540 + + Fortune, whiche that permutacioun + Of thinges hath, as it is hir committed + Through purveyaunce and disposicioun + Of heighe Iove, as regnes shal ben flitted + Fro folk in folk, or whan they shal ben smitted, 1545 + Gan pulle awey the fetheres brighte of Troye + Fro day to day, til they ben bare of Ioye. + + Among al this, the fyn of the parodie + Of Ector gan approchen wonder blyve; + The fate wolde his soule sholde unbodie, 1550 + And shapen hadde a mene it out to dryve; + Ayeins which fate him helpeth not to stryve; + But on a day to fighten gan he wende, + At which, allas! He coughte his lyves ende. + + For which me thinketh every maner wight 1555 + That haunteth armes oughte to biwayle + The deeth of him that was so noble a knight; + For as he drough a king by thaventayle, + Unwar of this, Achilles through the mayle + And through the body gan him for to ryve; 1560 + And thus this worthy knight was brought of lyve. + + For whom, as olde bokes tellen us, + Was mad swich wo, that tonge it may not telle; + And namely, the sorwe of Troilus, + That next him was of worthinesse welle. 1565 + And in this wo gan Troilus to dwelle, + That, what for sorwe, and love, and for unreste, + Ful ofte a day he bad his herte breste. + + But natheles, though he gan him dispeyre, + And dradde ay that his lady was untrewe, 1570 + Yet ay on hir his herte gan repeyre. + And as these loveres doon, he soughte ay newe + To gete ayein Criseyde, bright of hewe. + And in his herte he wente hir excusinge, + That Calkas causede al hir taryinge. 1575 + + And ofte tyme he was in purpos grete + Him-selven lyk a pilgrim to disgyse, + To seen hir; but he may not contrefete + To been unknowen of folk that weren wyse, + Ne finde excuse aright that may suffyse, 1580 + If he among the Grekes knowen were; + For which he weep ful ofte many a tere. + + To hir he wroot yet ofte tyme al newe + Ful pitously, he lefte it nought for slouthe, + Biseching hir that, sin that he was trewe, 1585 + She wolde come ayein and holde hir trouthe. + For which Criseyde up-on a day, for routhe, + I take it so, touchinge al this matere, + Wrot him ayein, and seyde as ye may here. + + `Cupydes sone, ensample of goodlihede, 1590 + O swerd of knighthod, sours of gentilesse! + How might a wight in torment and in drede + And helelees, yow sende as yet gladnesse? + I hertelees, I syke, I in distresse; + Sin ye with me, nor I with yow may dele, 1595 + Yow neither sende ich herte may nor hele. + + `Your lettres ful, the papir al y-pleynted, + Conceyved hath myn hertes pietee; + I have eek seyn with teres al depeynted + Your lettre, and how that ye requeren me 1600 + To come ayein, which yet ne may not be. + But why, lest that this lettre founden were, + No mencioun ne make I now, for fere. + + `Grevous to me, god woot, is your unreste, + Your haste, and that, the goddes ordenaunce, 1605 + It semeth not ye take it for the beste. + Nor other thing nis in your remembraunce, + As thinketh me, but only your plesaunce. + But beth not wrooth, and that I yow biseche; + For that I tarie, is al for wikked speche. 1610 + + `For I have herd wel more than I wende, + Touchinge us two, how thinges han y-stonde; + Which I shal with dissimulinge amende. + And beth nought wrooth, I have eek understonde, + How ye ne doon but holden me in honde. 1615 + But now no fors, I can not in yow gesse + But alle trouthe and alle gentilesse. + + `Comen I wol, but yet in swich disioynte + I stonde as now, that what yeer or what day + That this shal be, that can I not apoynte. 1620 + But in effect, I prey yow, as I may, + Of your good word and of your frendship ay. + For trewely, whyl that my lyf may dure, + As for a freend, ye may in me assure. + + `Yet preye I yow on yvel ye ne take, 1625 + That it is short which that I to yow wryte; + I dar not, ther I am, wel lettres make, + Ne never yet ne coude I wel endyte. + Eek greet effect men wryte in place lite. + Thentente is al, and nought the lettres space; 1630 + And fareth now wel, god have you in his grace! + La vostre C.' + + This Troilus this lettre thoughte al straunge, + Whan he it saugh, and sorwefully he sighte; + Him thoughte it lyk a kalendes of chaunge; + But fynally, he ful ne trowen mighte 1635 + That she ne wolde him holden that she highte; + For with ful yvel wil list him to leve + That loveth wel, in swich cas, though him greve. + + But natheles, men seyn that, at the laste, + For any thing, men shal the sothe see; 1640 + And swich a cas bitidde, and that as faste, + That Troilus wel understood that she + Nas not so kinde as that hir oughte be. + And fynally, he woot now, out of doute, + That al is lost that he hath been aboute. 1645 + + Stood on a day in his malencolye + This Troilus, and in suspecioun + Of hir for whom he wende for to dye. + And so bifel, that through-out Troye toun, + As was the gyse, y-bore was up and doun 1650 + A maner cote-armure, as seyth the storie, + Biforn Deiphebe, in signe of his victorie, + + The whiche cote, as telleth Lollius, + Deiphebe it hadde y-rent from Diomede + The same day; and whan this Troilus 1655 + It saugh, he gan to taken of it hede, + Avysing of the lengthe and of the brede, + And al the werk; but as he gan biholde, + Ful sodeinly his herte gan to colde, + + As he that on the coler fond with-inne 1660 + A broche, that he Criseyde yaf that morwe + That she from Troye moste nedes twinne, + In remembraunce of him and of his sorwe; + And she him leyde ayein hir feyth to borwe + To kepe it ay; but now, ful wel he wiste, 1665 + His lady nas no lenger on to triste. + + He gooth him hoom, and gan ful sone sende + For Pandarus; and al this newe chaunce, + And of this broche, he tolde him word and ende, + Compleyninge of hir hertes variaunce, 1670 + His longe love, his trouthe, and his penaunce; + And after deeth, with-outen wordes more, + Ful faste he cryde, his reste him to restore. + + Than spak he thus, `O lady myn Criseyde, + Wher is your feyth, and wher is your biheste? 1675 + Wher is your love, wher is your trouthe,' he seyde; + `Of Diomede have ye now al this feste! + Allas, I wolde have trowed at the leste. + That, sin ye nolde in trouthe to me stonde, + That ye thus nolde han holden me in honde! 1680 + + `Who shal now trowe on any othes mo? + Allas, I never wolde han wend, er this, + That ye, Criseyde, coude han chaunged so; + Ne, but I hadde a-gilt and doon amis, + So cruel wende I not your herte, y-wis, 1685 + To slee me thus; allas, your name of trouthe + Is now for-doon, and that is al my routhe. + + `Was ther non other broche yow liste lete + To feffe with your newe love,' quod he, + `But thilke broche that I, with teres wete, 1690 + Yow yaf, as for a remembraunce of me? + Non other cause, allas, ne hadde ye + But for despyt, and eek for that ye mente + Al-outrely to shewen your entente! + + `Through which I see that clene out of your minde 1695 + Ye han me cast, and I ne can nor may, + For al this world, with-in myn herte finde + To unloven yow a quarter of a day! + In cursed tyme I born was, weylaway! + That ye, that doon me al this wo endure, 1700 + Yet love I best of any creature. + + `Now god,' quod he, `me sende yet the grace + That I may meten with this Diomede! + And trewely, if I have might and space, + Yet shal I make, I hope, his sydes blede. 1705 + O god,' quod he, `that oughtest taken hede + To fortheren trouthe, and wronges to punyce, + Why niltow doon a vengeaunce of this vyce? + + `O Pandare, that in dremes for to triste + Me blamed hast, and wont art oft up-breyde, 1710 + Now maystow see thy-selve, if that thee liste, + How trewe is now thy nece, bright Criseyde! + In sondry formes, god it woot,' he seyde, + `The goddes shewen bothe Ioye and tene + In slepe, and by my dreme it is now sene. 1715 + + `And certaynly, with-oute more speche, + From hennes-forth, as ferforth as I may, + Myn owene deeth in armes wol I seche; + I recche not how sone be the day! + But trewely, Criseyde, swete may, 1720 + Whom I have ay with al my might y-served, + That ye thus doon, I have it nought deserved.' + + This Pandarus, that alle these thinges herde, + And wiste wel he seyde a sooth of this, + He nought a word ayein to him answerde; 1725 + For sory of his frendes sorwe he is, + And shamed, for his nece hath doon a-mis; + And stant, astoned of these causes tweye, + As stille as stoon; a word ne coude he seye. + + But at the laste thus he spak, and seyde, 1730 + `My brother dere, I may thee do no-more. + What shulde I seyn? I hate, y-wis, Criseyde! + And, god wot, I wol hate hir evermore! + And that thou me bisoughtest doon of yore, + Havinge un-to myn honour ne my reste 1735 + Right no reward, I dide al that thee leste. + + `If I dide ought that mighte lyken thee, + It is me leef; and of this treson now, + God woot, that it a sorwe is un-to me! + And dredelees, for hertes ese of yow, 1740 + Right fayn wolde I amende it, wiste I how. + And fro this world, almighty god I preye, + Delivere hir sone; I can no-more seye.' + + Gret was the sorwe and pleynt of Troilus; + But forth hir cours fortune ay gan to holde. 1745 + Criseyde loveth the sone of Tydeus, + And Troilus mot wepe in cares colde. + Swich is this world; who-so it can biholde, + In eche estat is litel hertes reste; + God leve us for to take it for the beste! 1750 + + In many cruel batayle, out of drede, + Of Troilus, this ilke noble knight, + As men may in these olde bokes rede, + Was sene his knighthod and his grete might. + And dredelees, his ire, day and night, 1755 + Ful cruelly the Grekes ay aboughte; + And alwey most this Diomede he soughte. + + And ofte tyme, I finde that they mette + With blody strokes and with wordes grete, + Assayinge how hir speres weren whette; 1760 + And god it woot, with many a cruel hete + Gan Troilus upon his helm to bete. + But natheles, fortune it nought ne wolde, + Of others hond that either deyen sholde. — + + And if I hadde y-taken for to wryte 1765 + The armes of this ilke worthy man, + Than wolde I of his batailles endyte. + But for that I to wryte first bigan + Of his love, I have seyd as that I can. + His worthy dedes, who-so list hem here, 1770 + Reed Dares, he can telle hem alle y-fere. + + Bisechinge every lady bright of hewe, + And every gentil womman, what she be, + That al be that Criseyde was untrewe, + That for that gilt she be not wrooth with me. 1775 + Ye may hir gilt in othere bokes see; + And gladlier I wole wryten, if yow leste, + Penolopees trouthe and good Alceste. + + Ne I sey not this al-only for these men, + But most for wommen that bitraysed be 1780 + Through false folk; god yeve hem sorwe, amen! + That with hir grete wit and subtiltee + Bitrayse yow! And this commeveth me + To speke, and in effect yow alle I preye, + Beth war of men, and herkeneth what I seye! — 1785 + + Go, litel book, go litel myn tragedie, + Ther god thy maker yet, er that he dye, + So sende might to make in som comedie! + But litel book, no making thou nenvye, + But subgit be to alle poesye; 1790 + And kis the steppes, wher-as thou seest pace + Virgile, Ovyde, Omer, Lucan, and Stace. + + And for ther is so greet diversitee + In English and in wryting of our tonge, + So preye I god that noon miswryte thee, 1795 + Ne thee mismetre for defaute of tonge. + And red wher-so thou be, or elles songe, + That thou be understonde I god beseche! + But yet to purpos of my rather speche. — + + The wraththe, as I began yow for to seye, 1800 + Of Troilus, the Grekes boughten dere; + For thousandes his hondes maden deye, + As he that was with-outen any pere, + Save Ector, in his tyme, as I can here. + But weylawey, save only goddes wille, 1805 + Dispitously him slough the fiers Achille. + + And whan that he was slayn in this manere, + His lighte goost ful blisfully is went + Up to the holownesse of the seventh spere, + In convers letinge every element; 1810 + And ther he saugh, with ful avysement, + The erratik sterres, herkeninge armonye + With sownes fulle of hevenish melodye. + + And doun from thennes faste he gan avyse + This litel spot of erthe, that with the see 1815 + Embraced is, and fully gan despyse + This wrecched world, and held al vanitee + To respect of the pleyn felicitee + That is in hevene above; and at the laste, + Ther he was slayn, his loking doun he caste; 1820 + + And in him-self he lough right at the wo + Of hem that wepten for his deeth so faste; + And dampned al our werk that folweth so + The blinde lust, the which that may not laste, + And sholden al our herte on hevene caste. 1825 + And forth he wente, shortly for to telle, + Ther as Mercurie sorted him to dwelle. — + + Swich fyn hath, lo, this Troilus for love, + Swich fyn hath al his grete worthinesse; + Swich fyn hath his estat real above, 1830 + Swich fyn his lust, swich fyn hath his noblesse; + Swich fyn hath false worldes brotelnesse. + And thus bigan his lovinge of Criseyde, + As I have told, and in this wyse he deyde. + + O yonge fresshe folkes, he or she, 1835 + In which that love up groweth with your age, + Repeyreth hoom from worldly vanitee, + And of your herte up-casteth the visage + To thilke god that after his image + Yow made, and thinketh al nis but a fayre 1840 + This world, that passeth sone as floures fayre. + + And loveth him, the which that right for love + Upon a cros, our soules for to beye, + First starf, and roos, and sit in hevene a-bove; + For he nil falsen no wight, dar I seye, 1845 + That wol his herte al hoolly on him leye. + And sin he best to love is, and most meke, + What nedeth feyned loves for to seke? + + Lo here, of Payens corsed olde rytes, + Lo here, what alle hir goddes may availle; 1850 + Lo here, these wrecched worldes appetytes; + Lo here, the fyn and guerdon for travaille + Of Iove, Appollo, of Mars, of swich rascaille! + Lo here, the forme of olde clerkes speche + In poetrye, if ye hir bokes seche. — 1855 + + O moral Gower, this book I directe + To thee, and to the philosophical Strode, + To vouchen sauf, ther nede is, to corecte, + Of your benignitees and zeles gode. + And to that sothfast Crist, that starf on rode, 1860 + With al myn herte of mercy ever I preye; + And to the lord right thus I speke and seye: + + Thou oon, and two, and three, eterne on-lyve, + That regnest ay in three and two and oon, + Uncircumscript, and al mayst circumscryve, 1865 + Us from visible and invisible foon + Defende; and to thy mercy, everichoon, + So make us, Iesus, for thy grace digne, + For love of mayde and moder thyn benigne! Amen. + + Explicit Liber Troili et Criseydis. +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Troilus and Criseyde, by Geoffrey Chaucer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROILUS AND CRISEYDE *** + +***** This file should be named 257-h.htm or 257-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/257/ + +Produced by Douglas B. Killings, Diane M. Brendan, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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