Incipit prohemium secundi libri
Owt of thise blake wawes forto saylle,
O wynde, O wynde, the weder gynneth clere,
ffor in this see the boot hath swych trauaylle
Of my konnyng that vnneth I it steere:
This see clepe I the tempestous matere
Of disespeir that Troilus was inne —
But now of hope the kalendes bygynne.
O lady myn, that called art Cleo,
Thow be my speed fro this forth, and my Muse,
To ryme wel this book til I haue do;
Me nedeth here noon othere art to vse.
ffor-whi to euery louere I me excuse
That of no sentement I this endite,
But out of Latyn in my tonge it write.
Wherfore I nyl haue neither thank ne blame
Of al this werk, but prey ow mekely,
Disblameth me if any word be lame,
ffor as myn auctour seyde, so sey I;
Ek though I speeke of loue vnfelyngly,
No wondre is, for it no thyng of newe is:
A blynd man kan nat iuggen wel in hewis.
e knowe ek that in fourme of speche is chaunge
With-inne a thousand eer, and wordes tho
That hadden pris now wonder nyce and straunge
Us thenketh hem, and et thei spake hem so,
And spedde as wel in loue as men now do,
Ek forto wynnen loue in sondry ages,
In sondry londes, sondry ben vsages.
And forthi if it happe in any wyse,
That here be any louere in this place
That herkneth, as the storie wol deuise,
How Troilus com to his lady grace,
And thenketh, "so nold I nat loue purchace,"
Or wondreth on his speche or his doynge,
I noot, but it is me no wonderynge.
ffor euery wight which that to Rome wente
Halt nat o path or alwey o manere;
Ek in som lond were al the game shente
If that they ferde in loue as men don here,
As thus, in opyn doyng or in chere,
In visityng in forme or seyde hire sawes;
ffor-thi men seyn, ecch contree hath hise lawes.
Ek scarsly ben ther in this place thre
That haue in loue seid like and don in al,
ffor to thi purpos this may liken the,
And the right nought, et al is seid, or schal;
Ek som men graue in tree, som in ston wal,
As it bitit; but syn I haue bigonne,
Myn auctour shal I folwen if I konne.
Explicit prohemium secundi libri
Incipit liber secundus
In May, that moder is of monthes glade,
That fresshe floures blew and white and rede
Ben quike agayn, that wynter dede made,
And ful of bawme is fletyng euery mede;
Whan Phebus doth his bryghte bemes sprede
Right in the white Bole, it so bitidde,
As I shal synge, on Mayes day the thrydde,
That Pandarus, for al his wise speche,
ffelt ek his parte of loues shotes keene,
That koude he neuere so wel of louyng preche,
It made his hewe a-day ful ofte greene;
So shop it that hym fil that day a teene
In loue, for which in wo to bedde he wente,
And made er it was day ful many a wente.
The swalowe Proigne with a sorowful lay
Whan morwen com gan make hire waymentyng
Whi she forshapen was, and euere lay
Pandare a-bedde half in a slomberyng,
Til she so neigh hym made hire cheteryng,
How Tereus gan forth hire suster take,
That with the noyse of hire he gan awake,
And gan to calle, and dresse hym vp to ryse,
Remembryng hym his erand was to doone
ffrom Troilus, and ek his grete emprise,
And caste and knewe in good plit was the moone
To doon viage, and took his way ful soone
Unto his Neces palays ther biside;
Now Ianus, god of entree, thow hym gyde!
Whan he was come vnto his Neces place,
"Wher is my lady?" to hire folk quod he;
And they hym tolde and he forth in gan pace
And fond two othere ladys sete, and she,
With-inne a paued parlour, and they thre
Herden a mayden reden hem the geste
Of the siege of Thebes while hem leste.
Quod Pandarus, "ma dame, god ow see,
With al oure book and al the compaignie."
"Ey, vncle myn, welcome i-wis," quod she;
And vp she roos and by the hond in hye
She took hym faste and seyde, "this nyght thrie —
To goode mot it turne — of ow I mette."
And with that word she doun on benche hym sette.
'"e, Nece, ee shal faren wel the bet,
If god wol, al this eere," quod Pandarus;
"But I am sory that I haue ow let
To herken of oure book e preysen thus.
ffor goddes loue, what seith it? telle it vs;
Is it of loue? O, som good e me leere!,,
"Uncle," quod she, " oure maistresse is nat here."
With that thei gonnen laughe, and tho she seyde,
"This romaunce is of Thebes that we rede;
And we han herd how that kyng Layus deyde,
Thorugh Edippus his sone, and al that dede;
And here we stynten at thise lettres rede,
How the bisshop, as the book kan telle,
Amphiorax, fil thorugh the grounde to helle."
Quod Pandarus, "al this knowe I my selue,
And al thassege of Thebes and the care,
ffor her-of ben ther maked bookes twelue;
But lat be this and telle me how e fare;
Do wey oure barbe and shew oure face bare;
Do wey oure book, rys vp, and lat vs daunce,
And lat vs don to May som obseruaunce."
"I, god forbede!" quod she, "be e madde?
Is that a widewes lif, so god ow saue?
By god, e maken me ryght soore adradde,
e ben so wylde, it semeth as e raue.
It satte me wel bet ay in a caue
To bidde and rede on holy seyntes lyues;
Lat maydens gon to daunce and onge wyues."
"As euere thriue I," quod this Pandarus,
"et koude I telle a thyng to doon ow pleye."
"Now Uncle deere," quod she, "telle it vs
ffor goddes loue: is than thassege aweye?
I am of Grekes so fered that I deye."
"Nay, nay," quod he, "as euere mote I thryue,
"It is a thing wel bet than swyche fyue."
"e, holy god," quod she, "what thyng is that?
What, bet than swyche fyue? I! nay, ywys.
ffor al this world ne kan I reden what
It sholde ben; som iape I trowe is this;
And but oure seluen telle vs what it is,
My wit is for tarede it al to leene;
As help me god, I not nat what e meene."
"And I oure borugh, ne neuere shal, for me,
This thyng be told to ow, as mote I thryue."
"And whi so, vncle myn, whi so?" quod she.
"By god," quod he, "that wol I telle as blyue;
ffor proudder womman is ther noon on lyue,
And e it wist, in al the town of Troye;
I iape nought, as euere haue I ioye."
Tho gan she wondren moore than biforne
A thousand fold, and down hire eyghen caste;
ffor neuere sith the tyme that she was borne
To knowe thyng desired she so faste;
And with a syk, she seyde hym atte laste,
"Now, Uncle myn, I nyl ow nought displese,
Nor axen more that may do ow disese.',
So after this, with many wordes glade,
And frendly tales and with merie chiere,
Of this and that they pleide and gonnen wade
In many an vnkouth, gladde, and depe matere,
As frendes doon whan thei ben mette y-fere,
Tyl she gan axen hym how Ector ferde,
That was the townes wal and Grekes erde.
"fful wel, I thonk it god," quod Pandarus,
"Saue in his arme he hath a litel wownde,
And ek his fresshe brother, Troilus,
The wise, worthi Ector the secounde,
In whom that alle vertue list habounde,
As alle trouthe and alle gentilesse,
Wisdom, honour, fredom, and worthinesse."
"In good feith, Em," quod she, "that liketh me
Thei faren wel, god saue hem bothe two;
ffor trewelich I holde it gret deynte,
A kynges sone in armes wel to do,
And ben of good condiciouns therto;
ffor grete power and moral vertue here
Is selde yseyn in o persone y-feere."
"In good faith, that is soth," quod Pandarus,
"But, by my trouthe, the kyng hath sones tweye —
That is to mene Ector and Troilus —
That certeynly, though that I sholde deye,
Thei ben as voide of vices, dar I seye,
As any men that lyuen vndre the sonne;
Hire myght is wyde i-knowe, and what they konne.
"Of Ector nedeth it namore forto telle:
In al this world ther nys a bettre knyght
Than he that is of worthynesse welle,
And he wel moore vertue hath than myght;
This knoweth many a wise and worthi wight.
The same pris of Troilus I seye;
God help me so, I knowe nat swiche tweye."
"By god," quod she, "of Ector that is sooth;
"Of Troilus the same thyng trowe I;
ffor dredeles, men tellen that he doth
In armes day by day so worthily,
And bereth hym here at hom so gentily
To eueri wight, that alle pris hath he
Of hem that me were leuest preysed be."
"e sey right sooth, y-wys," quod Pandarus;
"ffor esterday who-so hadde with hym ben,
He myghte han wondred vp-on Troilus;
ffor neuere et so thikke a swarm of been
Ne fleigh as Grekes fro hym gonne fleen;
And thorugh the feld in eueri wightes eere
Ther nas no cry but 'Troilus is there!'
"Now here, now ther, he hunted hem so faste,
Ther nas but Grekes blood and Troilus.
Now hym he hurte and hym al down he caste;
Ay wher he wente it was arayed thus:
He was hire deth, and sheld and lif for vs,
That, as that day, ther dorste non withstonde,
Whil that he held his blody swerd in honde.
"Therto he is the frendlieste man
Of gret estat that euere I saugh my lyue,
And wher hym lest, best felawshipe kan
To swich as hym thynketh able forto thryue."
And with that word tho Pandarus as blyue
He took his leue and seyde, "I wol gon henne."
"Nay, blame haue I, myn Uncle," quod she thenne.
"What aileth ow to be thus wery soone,
And namelich of wommen? wol e so?
Nay, sitteth down; by god, I haue to doone
With ow to speke of wisdom er e go."
And eueri wight that was aboute hem tho,
That herde that, gan fer a-wey to stonde,
Whil they two hadde al that hem liste in honde.
Whan that hire tale al brought was to an ende,
Of hire estat and of hire gouernaunce,
Quod Pandarus, "now is it tyme I wende;
But et I say, ariseth, lat vs daunce,
And cast oure widewes habit to mischaunce.
What list ow thus oure self to disfigure,
Sith ow [MS thow] is tid thus faire an auenture?"
"A, wel bithought, for loue of god," quod she,
"Shal I nat witen what e meene of this?"
"No, this thing axeth leyser," tho quod he,
"And eke me wolde muche greue, i-wis,
If I it tolde and e it toke amys.
et were it bet my tonge forto stille
Than seye a soth that were a eyns oure wille.
"ffor, Nece, by the goddesse Mynerue,
And Iupiter, that maketh the thondre rynge,
And by the blisful Venus that I serue,
e ben the womman in this world lyuynge —
With-outen paramours to my wyttynge —
That I best loue and lothest am to greue,
And that e weten wel oure self, I leue."
"I-wis, myn vncle," quod she, "grant mercy;
oure frendshipe haue I founden euere it;
I am to no man holden, trewely,
So muche as ow, and haue so litel quyt;
And with the grace of god, emforth my wit,
As in my gylt I shall ow neuere offende,
And if I haue er this, I wol amende.
"But for the loue of god, I ow biseche,
As e ben he that I moost loue and triste,
Lat be to me oure fremde manere speche,
And sey to me, oure Nece, what ow liste."
And with that word hire uncle anoon hire kiste
And seyde, "gladly, leue Nece dere —
Tak it for good that I shal sey ow here."
With that she gan hire eighen down to caste,
And Pandarus to coghe gan a lite,
And seyde, "Nece, alwey, lo, to the laste,
How so it be that som men hem delite
With subtyl art hire tales forto endite,
et for al that, in hire entencioun,
Hire tale is al for som conclusioun.
"And sithen thende is euery tales strengthe,
And this matere is so bihouely,
What sholde I peynte or drawen it on lengthe
To ow that ben my frend so feythfully?"
And with that word he gan right inwardly
Byholden hire and loken on hire face
And seyde, "on swich a mirour goode grace!"
Than thought he thus, "if I my tale endite
Aught harde, or make a proces any whyle,
She shal no sauour haue ther-in but lite,
And trowe I wolde hire in my wil bigyle;
ffor tendre wittes wenen al be wyle
Ther as thei kan nought pleynly vnderstonde;
fforthi hire wit to seruen wol I fonde."
And loked on hire in a bysi wyse,
And she was war that he byheld hire so,
And seyde, "lord, so faste e mauise!
Sey e me neuere er now? what sey e? no?"
"is, ys," quod he, "and bet wol er I go;
But be my trouthe, I thoughte now if e
Be fortunat, for now men shal it se.
"fforto euery wight som goodly auenture
Som tyme is shape, if he it kan receyuen,
And if that he wol take of it no cure,
Whan that it commeth, but wilfully it weyuen,
Lo, neyther cas ne fortune hym deceyuen,
But ryght his verray slouthe and wrecchednesse;
And swich a wight is forto blame, I gesse.
"Good auenture, O beele Nece, haue e
fful lightly founden, and e konne it take;
And for the loue of god and ek of me,
Cache it anon, lest auenture slake.
What sholde I lenger proces of it make?
if me oure hond, for in this world is noon,
If that ow list, a wight so wel bygon.
"And sith I speke of good entencioun,
As I to ow haue told wel here byforn,
And loue as wel oure honour and renoun
As creature in al this world yborn,
By alle the othes that I haue ow sworn,
And e be wrooth therfore, or wene I lye,
Ne shal I neuere sen ow eft with eye.
"Beth naught agast, ne quaketh naught; wherto?
Ne chaungeth naught for feere so oure hewe;
ffor hardely, the werst of this is do,
And though my tale as now be to ow newe,
et trist alwey e shal me fynde trewe;
And were it thyng that me thoughte vnsittynge,
To ow wolde I no swiche tales brynge."
"Now, my good Em, for goddes loue I preye,"
Quod she, "come of and telle me what it is;
ffor both I am agast what e wol seye,
And ek me longeth it to wite, ywis;
ffor whethir it be wel or be amys,
Say on, lat me nat in this feere dwelle.',
"So wol I doon; now herkeneth, I shall telle.
"Now, Nece myn, the kynges deere sone,
The goode, wise, worthi, fresshe and free,
Which alwey for to don wel is his wone,
The noble Troilus, so loueth the,
That, but e helpe, it wol his bane be.
Lo, here is al — what sholde I moore sey?
Do what ow lest to make hym lyue or dey.
"But if e late hym deyen, I wol sterue —
Haue here my trouthe, Nece, I nyl nat lyen —
Al sholde I with this knyf my throte kerue."
With that the teris breste out of his eyen,
And seyde, "if that e don vs bothe dyen,
Thus gilteles, than haue e fisshed fayre;
What mende e, though that we booth appaire?
"Allas, he which that is my lord so deere,
That trewe man, that noble, gentil knyght,
That naught desireth but oure frendly cheere,
I se hym deyen ther he goth vp-ryght,
And hasteth hym with al his fulle myght
fforto ben slayn, if his fortune assente;
Allas, that god ow swich a beaute sente!
"If it be so that e so cruel be,
That of his deth ow liste nought to recche,
That is so trewe and worthi as e se,
Namoore than of a iaper or a wrecche —
If e be swich oure beaute may nat strecche
To make amendes of so cruel a dede:
Auysement is good byfore the nede.
"Wo worth the faire gemme vertuelees!
Wo worth that herbe also that dooth no boote!
Wo worth that beaute that is routheles!
Wo worth that wight that tret ech vndir foote!
And e that ben of beaute crop and roote,
If therwith-al in ow ther be no routhe,
Than is it harm e lyuen, by my trouthe.
"And also think wel that this is no gaude;
ffor me were leuere thow and I and he
Were hanged, than I sholde ben his baude,
As heigh as men myghte on vs alle y-see;
I am thyn Em, the shame were to me
As wel as the if that I sholde assente,
Thorugh myn abet, that he thyn honour shente.
"Now vnderstond, for I ow nought requere
To bynde ow to hym thorugh no byheste,
But only that e make hym bettre chiere
Than e han doon er this and moore feste,
So that his lif be saued atte leeste;
This al and som, and pleynly, oure entente;
God help me so, I neuere other mente.
"Lo this requeste is naught but skylle, ywys,
Ne doute of resoun, pardee, is ther noon.
I sette the worste that e dreden this:
Men wolde wondren sen hym com or goon;
There-a eins answere I thus anoon,
That euery wight, but he be fool of kynde,
Wol deme it loue of frendshipe in his mynde.
"What, who wol demen, though he se a man
To temple go, that he thymages eteth?
Thenk ek how wel and wisely that he kan
Gouerne hym self that he nothyng for eteth,
That where he cometh he pris and thank hym geteth;
And ek therto he shal come here so selde,
What fors were it though al the town byhelde?
"Swych loue of frendes regneth al this town,
And wry ow in that mantel euere moo;
And, god so wys be my sauacioun,
As I haue seyd, oure beste is to do soo;
But alwey, goode Nece, to stynte his woo,
So lat oure daunger sucred ben a lite,
That of his deth e be naught forto wite."
Criseyde, which that herde hym in this wise,
Thought, "I shal felen what he meneth, y-wis."
"Now, Em," quod she, "what wolde e deuise?
What is oure rede I sholde don of this?"
"That is wel seyd," quod he, "certein, best is
That e hym loue a eyn for his louynge,
As loue for loue is skilful guerdonynge.
"Thenk ek how elde wasteth euery houre
In eche of ow a partie of beautee;
And therfore, er that age the deuoure,
Go loue, for old, ther wol no wight of the;
Lat this prouerbe a loore vn-to ow be:
"To late ywar, quod beaute, whan it paste';,
And elde daunteth daunger at the laste.
"The kynges fool is wont to crien loude,
Whan that hym thinketh a womman berth hire hye,
"So longe mote e lyue, and alle proude,
Tyl crowes feet be growe vnder oure eye,
And sende ow than a myrour in-to prye,
In which that e may se oure face a morwe.,
Nece, I bidde wisshe ow namore sorwe."
With this he stynte and caste a-down the hede,
And she began to breste a-wepe a-noon,
And seyde, "allas, for wo why nere I deede?
ffor of this world the feyth is al agoon.
Allas, what sholden straunge to me doon,
Whan he that for my beste frende I wende
Ret me to loue, and sholde it me defende?
"Allas, I wolde han trusted, douteles,
That if that I thorugh my disauenture
Hadde loued outher hym or Achilles,
Ector, or any mannes creature,
e nolde han had no mercy ne mesure
On me, but alwey had me in repreue.
This false worlde, allas, who may it leue?
"What! is this al the ioye and al the feste?
Is this oure reed? is this my blisful cas?
Is this the verray mede of oure byheeste?
Is al this paynted proces seyd, allas,
Right for this fyn? O lady myn, Pallas,
Thow in this dredful cas for me purueye,
ffor so astoned am I that I deye."
Wyth that she gan ful sorwfully to syke.
"A! may it be no bet?" quod Pandarus,
"By god, I shal namore come here this wyke,
And god toforn, that am mystrusted thus.
I se ful wel that e sette lite of vs,
Or of oure deth; allas, I woful wrecche!
Might he et lyue, of me is nought to recche.
"O cruel god, O dispitouse Marte,
O furies thre of helle, on ow I crye!
So lat me neuere out of this hous departe,
If that I mente harm or vilenye.
But sith I se my lord mot nedes dye,
And I with hym, here I me shryue and seye
That wikkedly e don vs bothe deye.
"But sith it liketh ow that I be dede,
By Neptunus, that god is of the see,
ffro this forth shal I neuere eten brede,
Til I myn owen herte blood may see;
ffor certeyn I wol deye as soone as he."
And vp he sterte and on his wey he raughte,
Tyl she agayn hym by the lappe kaughte.
Criseyde, which that wel neigh starf for feere,
So as she was the ferfulleste wight
That myghte be, and herde ek with hire ere,
And saugh the sorwful ernest of the knyght,
And in his preier ek saugh noon vnryght,
And for the harm that myghte ek fallen moore,
She gan to rewe and dredde hire wonder soore.
And thoughte thus: "vnhappes fallen thikke
Alday for loue, and in swych manere cas,
As men ben cruel in hem self and wikke;
And if this man sle here hym self, allas,
In my presence, it wol be no solas.
What men wolde of it deme I kan nat seye;
It nedeth me ful sleighly forto pleie.";
And with a sorwful sik she sayde thrie,
"A, lord, what me is tid a sory chaunce!
ffor myn estat lith now in iupartie,
And ek myn Emes lif is in balaunce;
But natheles, with goddes gouernaunce,
I shal so doon, myn honour shal I kepe,
And ek his lif" — and stynte forto wepe.
"Of harmes two the lesse is forto chese;
et haue I leuere maken hym good chere
In honour than myn Emes lyf to lese. —
e seyn e no-thyng elles me requere?"
"No, wis," quod he, "myn owen Nece dere."
"Now wel," quod she, "and I wol doon my peyne;
I shal myn herte a eins my lust constreyne.
"But that I nyl nat holden hym in honde,
Ne loue a man ne kan I naught ne may
A eins my wyl, but elles wol I fonde,
Myn honour sauf, plese hym fro day to day;
Therto nolde I nat ones han seyd nay,
But that I drede, as in my fantasye;
But cesse cause, ay cesseth maladie.
"And here I make a protestacioun,
That in this proces if e depper go,
That certeynly, for no saluacioun
Of ow, though that e steruen bothe two,
Though al the world on o day be my fo,
Ne shal I neuere of hym han other routhe."
I graunte wel, quod Pandare, "by my trowthe."
"But may I truste wel therto," quod he,
"That of this thyng that e han hight me here,
e wole it holden trewely vn-to me?"
"e, doutelees," quod she, "myn vncle deere."
"Ne that I shal han cause in this matere,"
Quod he, "to pleyn or ofter ow to preche?"
"Why no, perde; what nedeth moore speche?"
Tho fillen they in other tales glade,
Tyl at the laste, "O good Em," quod she tho,
"ffor his loue which that vs bothe made,
Tel me how first e wisten of his wo?
Woot noon of it but e?" He seyde, "no."
"Kan he wel speke of loue," quod she, "I preye?"
"Tel me, for I bet me shal purueye."
Tho Pandarus a litel gan to smyle,
And seyde, "by my trouthe, I shal ow telle.
This other day, naught gon ful longe while,
In-with the paleis gardyn by a welle,
Gan he and I wel half a day to dwelle,
Right forto speken of an ordinaunce,
How we the Grekes myghten disauaunce.
"Soon after that bigonne we to lepe,
And casten with oure dartes to and fro,
Tyl at the laste he seyde he wolde slepe,
And on the gres adoun he leyde hym tho;
And I afer gan romen to and fro,
Til that I herde, as that I welk alone,
How he bigan ful wofully to grone.
"Tho gan I stalke hym softely byhynde,
And sikirly, the soothe forto seyne,
As I kan clepe a ein now to my mynde,
Right thus to loue he gan hym forto pleyne:
He seyde, "lord haue routhe vp-on my peyne,
Al haue I ben rebell in myn entente,
Now
mea culpa, lord, I me repente.
"'O god that at thi disposicioun
Ledest the fyn, by iuste purueiaunce
Of euery wight, my lowe confessioun
Accepte in gree, and sende me swich penaunce
As liketh the, but from disesperaunce,
That may my goost departe awey fro the,
Thow be my sheld, for thi benignite.
"'ffor certes, lord, so soore hath she me wounded,
That stood in blak, with lokyng of hire eyen,
That to myn hertes botme it is y-sounded,
Thorugh which I woot that I moot nedes deyen:
This is the werste, I dar me nat bywreyen,
And wel the hotter ben the gledes rede,
That men hem wrien with asshen pale and dede."
"Wyth that he smot his hed adown a-non,
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 had I,
And com a ein anon and stood hym by,
And seyde, "awake, e slepen al to longe;
It semeth nat that loue doth ow longe,
"That slepen so that no man may ow wake.
Who sey euere or this so dul a man?"
"e, frende," quod he, "do e oure hedes ake
ffor loue, and lat me lyuen as I kan."
But though that he for wo was pale and wan,
et made he tho as fresshe a countenaunce
As though he sholde haue led the newe daunce.
"This passed forth til now, this other day,
It fel that I com romyng al allone
In-to his chaumbre and fond how that he lay
Vp-on his bed, but man so soore grone
Ne herde I neuere, and what that was his mone
Ne wist I nought, for as I was comyng,
Al sodeynly he lefte his complaynyng.
"Of which I took somwhat suspecioun,
And ner I com and fond he wepte soore;
And god so wys be my sauacioun,
As neuere of thyng hadde I no routhe moore,
ffor neither with engyn, ne with no loore,
Unnethes myghte I fro the deth hym kepe,
That et fele I myn herte for hym wepe.
"And god woot, neuere sith that I was born
Was I so besy no man forto preche,
Ne neuere was to wight so depe i-sworn,
Or he me told who myghte ben his leche.
But now to ow rehercen al his speche,
Or all his woful wordes forto sowne,
Ne bid me naught, but e wol se me swowne.
"But forto saue his lif, and elles nought,
And to noon harm of ow, thus am I dryuen;
And for the loue of god that vs hath wrought,
Swich cheer hym dooth that he and I may lyuen.
Now haue I plat to ow myn herte shryuen,
And sith e woot that myn entent is cleene,
Take heede therof, for I non yuel meene.
"And right good thrifte, I prey to god, haue e
That han swich oon y-kaught withouten net;
And be e wis as e be faire to see,
Wel in the rynge than is the rubie set.
Ther were neuere two so wel y-met,
Whan e ben his al hool, as he is oure:
Ther myghty god it graunte vs see that houre."
"Nay, therof spak I nought, ha, ha!" quod she;
"As helpe me god, e shenden euery deel."
"O, mercy, dere Nece," anon quod he,
"What so I spak, I mente naught but wel,
By Mars, the god that helmed is of steel;
Now beth naught wroth, my blood, my Nece dere."
"Now wel," quod she, "for euen be it here."
With this he took his leue and home he wente;
And lord, so he was glad and wel bygon!
Criseyde aros, no lenger she ne stente,
But streght in-to hire closet wente anon,
And set hire doun as stylle as any ston,
Aad euery word gan vp and down to wynde,
That he had seyd, as it com hire to mynde,
And wax somdel astoned in hire thoughte,
Right for the newe cas, but whan that she
Was ful auysed, tho fond she right noughte
Of peril why she ought afered be.
ffor man may loue, of possibilite,
A womman so his herte may to-breste,
And she naught loue a ein but if hire leste.
But as she sat allone and thoughte thus,
Ascry aros at scarmuch al with-oute,
And men criden in the strete, "se, Troilus
Hath right now put to flight the Grekes route!"
With that gan al hire meigne forto shoute,
"A, go we se, caste vp the ates wyde,
ffor thorwgh this strete he moot to paleys ride;
"ffor other wey is fro the ate noon
Of Dardanus, there opyn is the cheyne."
With that com he and al his folk anoon
An esy pas rydyng in routes tweyne,
Right as his happy day was, sooth to seyne,
ffor which, men seyn, may nought destourbed be
That shal bityden of necessitee.
This Troilus sat on his baye steede,
Al armed, saue his hed, ful richely,
And wownded was his hors, and gan to blede,
On which he rood a pas ful softely;
But swich a knyghtly sighte, trewely,
As was on hym was nought, withouten faille,
To loke on Mars that god is of bataille.
So lik a man of armes and a knyght
He was to seen, fulfilled of heigh prowesse,
ffor bothe he hadde a body and a myght
To don that thing, as wel as hardynesse,
And ek to seen hym in his gere hym dresse,
So fressh, so ong, so weldy semed he,
It was an heuen vp-on hym forto see.
His helm to-hewen was in twenty places,
That by a tyssew heng his bak byhynde;
His sheeld to-dasshed was with swerdes and maces,
In which men myghte many an arwe fynde
That thirled hadde horn and nerf and rynde;
And ay the peple cryde, "here cometh oure ioye,
And, next his brother, holder vp of Troye."
ffor which he wex a litel reed for shame,
When he the peple vp-on hym herde cryen,
That to byholde it was a noble game,
How sobrelich he caste down his eyen.
Criseyda gan al his chere aspien,
And leet it so softe in hire synke,
That to hire self she seyde, "who af me drynke?"
ffor of hire owen thought she wex al reed,
Remembryng hire right thus, "lo, this is he
Which that myn vncle swerith he moot be deed,
But I on hym haue mercy and pitee."
And with that thought for pure ashamed she
Gan in hire hed to pulle and that as faste,
While he and al the peple forby paste;
And gan to caste and rollen vp and down
With-inne hire thought his excellent prowesse,
And his estat and also his renown,
His wit, his shap and ek his gentilesse,
But moost hire fauour was for his distresse
Was al for hire, and thought it was a routhe
To sleen swich oon if that he mente trouthe.
Now myghte som envious iangle thus:
"This was a sodeyn loue; how myght it be
That she so lightly loued Troilus
Right for the firste syghte, e, parde?"
Now whoso seith so, mote he neuere y-the;
ffor euery thyng a gynnyng hath it nede
Er al be wrought, with-owten any drede.
ffor I sey nought that she so sodeynly
af hym hire loue, but that she gan enclyne
To like hym first, and I haue told ow whi;
And after that his manhod and his pyne
Made loue with-inne hire herte forto myne,
ffor which by proces and by good seruyse
He gat hire loue, and in no sodeyn wyse.
And also blisful Venus, wel arrayed,
Sat in hire seuenthe hous of heuene tho,
Disposed wel, and with aspectes payed,
To helpen sely Troilus of his woo;
And soth to seyne, she nas nat al a foo
To Troilus in his natiuitee;
God woot that wel the sonner spedde he.
Now lat vs stynte of Troilus a throwe,
That rideth forth, and lat vs torne faste
Unto Criseyde that heng hire hed ful lowe,
Ther as she sat allone and gan to caste
Where on she wolde apoynte hire atte laste,
If it so were hire Em ne wolde cesse
ffor Troilus vp-on hire forto presse.
And lord, so she gan in hire thought argue
In this matere of which I haue ow tolde,
And what to doone best were and what eschewe,
That plited she ful ofte in many folde;
Now was hire herte warme, now was it colde;
And what she thoughte, somwhat shal I write,
As to myn auctour listeth for tendite.
She thoughte wel that Troilus persone
She knew by syghte and ek his gentilesse,
And thus she seyde, "al were it nat to doone
To graunte hym loue, it, for his worthynesse,
It were honour with pleye and with gladnesse
In honestee with swich a lord to deele,
ffor myn estat and also for his heele.
"Ek wel woot I my kynges sone is he,
And sith he hath to se me swich delite,
If I wolde outreliche his sighte flee,
Peraunter he myghte haue me in dispite,
Thorugh whicch I myghte stonde in worse plite,
Now were I wis me hate to purchace,
With-outen nede, ther I may stonde in grace?
"In euery thyng, I woot, ther lith mesure,
ffor though a man forbede dronkenesse,
He naught forbet that euery creature
Be drynkeles for alwey, as I gesse.
Ek sith I woot for me is his destresse,
I ne aughte naught for that thing hym despise,
Sith it is so he meneth in good wyse.
"And ek I knowe, of longe tyme agon,
His thewes goode, and that he is nat nyce;
Nauantour, seith men, certein is he noon —
To wis is he to doon so get a vice;
Ne als I nyl hym neuere so cherice,
That he may make auaunt by iuste cause;
He shal me neuere bynde in swich a clause.
"Now sette a caas: the hardest is, y-wys,
Men myghten demen that he loueth me;
What dishonour were it vn-to me this?
May ich hym lette of that? why nay, parde.
I knowe also, and alday heere and se,
Men louen wommen al biside hire leue,
And whan hem leste namore, lat hem byleue.
"I thenk ek how he able is forto haue
Of al this noble towne the thriftieste
To ben his loue, so she hire honour saue;
ffor out and out he is the worthieste,
Saue only Ector, which that is the beste;
And et his lif al lith now in my cure.
But swich is loue and ek myn auenture.
"Ne me to loue, a wonder is it nought;
ffor wel woot I my self, so god me spede —
Al wolde I that noon wiste of this thought —
I am oon the faireste, out of drede,
And goodlieste, whoso taketh hede,
And so men seyn, in al the town of Troie:
What wonder is though he of me haue ioye?
"I am myn owene womman, wel at ese,
I thank it god, as after myn estate,
Right ong, and stonde vnteyd in lusty leese,
With-outen ialousie or swich debate;
Shal noon housbonde seyn to me 'chek mate.'
ffor either they ben ful of ialousie,
Or maisterfull, or louen nouelrie.
"What shal I doon? to what fyn lyue I thus?
Shal I nat loue, in cas if that me leste?
What, pardieux! I am naught religious.
And though that I myn herte sette at reste
Upon this knyght, that is the worthieste,
And kepe awey myn honour and my name,
By alle right, it may do me no shame."
But right as when the sonne shyneth bright,
In March, that chaungeth ofte tyme his face,
And that a cloude is put with wynd to flight,
Which ouersprat the sonne as for a space,
A cloudy thought gan thorugh hire soule pace,
That ouerspradde hire brighte thoughtes alle,
So that for feere almost she gan to falle.
That thought was this: "allas, syn I am free,
Sholde I now loue, and put in iupertie
My sikernesse and thrallen libertee?
Allas, how dorst I thenken that folie?
May I naught wel in other folk aspie
Hire dredfull ioye, hire constreinte and hire peyne?
Ther loueth noon that she nath wey to pleyne.
"ffor loue is et the mooste stormy lyf,
Right of hym self, that euere was bigonne;
ffor euere som mystrust or nice strif
Ther is in loue, som cloude is ouere that sonne.
Therto we wrecched wommen no-thing konne,
Whan vs is wo, but wepe and sitte and thinke;
Oure wrecche is this, oure owen wo to drynke.
"Also thise wikked tonges ben so preste
To speke vs harm, ek men ben so vntrewe,
That right anon as cessed is hire leste
So cesseth loue, and forth to loue a newe;
But harm y-doon is doon, who-so it rewe:
ffor though thise men for loue hem first to-rende,
fful sharp bygynnyng breketh ofte at ende.
"How ofte tyme hath it y-knowen be,
The tresoun that to wommen hath ben do;
To what fyn is swich loue I kan nat see,
Or wher bycometh it whan it is ago.
Ther is no wight that woot, I trowe so,
Where it bycometh; lo, no wight on it sporneth:
That erst was no thing, in-to nought it torneth.
"How bisy, if I loue, ek most I be
To plesen hem that iangle of loue and dremen,
And coye hem, that they seye noon harm of me;
ffor though ther be no cause, et hem semen
Al be for harm that folk hire frendes quemen;
And who may stoppen euery wikked tonge,
Or sown of belles whil that thei ben ronge?"
And after that, hire thought gan forto clere,
And seide, "he which that nothing vndertaketh,
No thyng nacheueth, be hym looth or deere."
And with an other thought hire herte quaketh;
Than slepeth hope, and after drede awaketh;
Now hoot, now cold; but thus bitwixen tweye,
She rist hire vp, and wente hire forto pleye.
Adown the steyre anon right tho she wente
In-to the gardyn with hire neces thre,
And vp and down ther made many a wente —
fflexippe, she, Tharbe and Antigone —
To pleyen, that it ioye was to see;
And other of hire wommen a gret route
Hire folwede in the gardyn al aboute.
This erd was large and rayled alle thaleyes,
And shadewed wel with blosmy bowes grene,
And benched newe, and sonded alle the weyes,
In which she walketh arm in arm bitwene;
Til at the laste, Antigone the shene
Gan on a Troian song to singen cleere,
That it an heuen was hire vois to here.
Cantus Antigone
She seyde, "O loue, to whom I haue and shal
Ben humble subgit, trewe in myn entente,
As I best kan, to ow, lord, eue ich al,
ffor euere mo, myn hertes lust to rente.
ffor neuere et thi grace no wight sente
So blisful cause as me, my lif to lede
In alle ioie and seurte out of drede.
"e, blisful god, han me so wel byset
In loue, i-wys, that al that bereth lif
Ymagynen ne kouthe how to ben bet;
ffor, lord, withouten jalousie or strif,
I loue oon which that moost is ententif
To seruen wel, vnweri or vnfeyned,
That euere was, and leest with harm desteyned.
"As he that is the welle of worthynesse,
Of trouthe grownd, mirour of goodlihede,
Of wit Apollo, stoon of sikernesse,
Of vertue roote, of lust fynder and hede,
Thorugh which is alle sorwe fro me dede —
I-wis, I loue hym best, so doth he me;
Now good thrifte haue he, wher-so that he be!
"Whom shulde I thanken but ow, god of loue,
Of al this blisse in which to bathe I gynne?
And thanked be e, lord, for that I loue.
This is the righte lif that I am inne,
To flemen alle manere vice and synne;
This dooth me so to vertue for tentende,
That day by day I in my wille amende.
"And whoso seith that forto loue is vice,
Or thraldom, though he feele in it destresse,
He outher is enuyous or right nyce,
Or is vnmyghty for his shrewednesse
To louen; for swich manere folk, I gesse,
Defamen loue as nothing of it knowe:
They speken, but thei benten neuere his bowe.
"What is the sonne wers, of kynde right,
Though that a man for fieblesse of his eyen
May nought endure on it to see for bright?
Or loue the wers, though wrecches on it crien?
No wele is worth that may no sorwe dryen;
And forthi, who that hath an hed of verre,
ffro caste of stones war hym in the werre.
"But I with al myn herte and al my myghte,
As I haue seyd, wol loue vn-to my laste
My deere herte and al myn owen knyghte,
In which myn herte growen is so faste,
And his in me, that it shal euere laste:
Al dredde I first to loue hym to bigynne,
Now woot I wel ther is no peril inne."
And of hir song right with that word she stente,
And ther-with-al, "now Nece," quod Cryseyde,
"Who made this song now with so good entente?"
Antygone answerde anoon and seyde,
"Madame, y-wys, the goodlieste mayde
Of gret estat in al the town of Troye,
And let hire lif in moste honour and ioye."
"ffor-sothe, so it semeth by hire songe,"
Quod tho Criseyde, and gan therwith to sike,
And seyde, "lord, is ther swych blisse amonge
Thise loueres, as they konne faire endite?"
"e, wis," quod fresshe Antigone the white,
"ffor al the folk that han or ben on lyue
Ne konne wel the blisse of loue discryue.
"But wene e that euery wrecche woot
The parfit blisse of loue? why nay, i-wys;
They wenen all be loue if oon be hoot;
Do wey, do wey, they woot nothyng of this.
Men mosten axe at seyntes if it is
Aught faire in heuene — why? for they kan telle —
And axen fendes is it foule in helle."
Criseyde vnto that purpos naught answerde,
But seyde, "ywys, it wol be nyght as faste."
But euery word which that she of hire herde,
She gan to prenten in hire herte faste,
And ay gan loue hire lasse for tagaste
Than it dide erst and synken in hire herte,
That she wex somwhat able to conuerte.
The dayes honour and the heuenes eye,
The nyghtes foo — al this clepe I the sonne —
Gan westren faste and downward forto wrye,
As he that hadde his dayes cours yronne,
And white thynges wexen dymme and donne
ffor lakke of lyght and sterres for tapere,
That she and alle hire folk in went yfeere.
So whan it liked hire to go to reste,
And voided weren thei that voiden oughte,
She seyde that to slepen wel hire leste;
Hire wommen soon vnto hire bed hire broughte.
Whan al was hust, than lay she stille and thoughte
Of al this thing the manere and the wise;
Reherce it nedeth nought, for e ben wise.
A nyghtyngale vpon a cedre grene,
Under the chambre wal ther as she lay,
fful loude song aein the moone shene
Peraunter in his briddes wise a lay
Of loue that made hire herte fressh and gay,
That herkned she so longe in good entente,
Til at the laste the dede slepe hire hente.
And as she slep, anon right tho hire mette
How that an egle fethered whit as bone
Under hire brest his longe clawes sette,
And out hire herte he rente, and that anone,
And dide his herte in-to hire brest to gone —
Of which she nought agroos ne nothyng smerte —
And forth he fleigh with herte left for herte.
Now lat hire slepe, and we oure tales holde
Of Troilus that is to paleis riden
ffro the scarmuch of the which I tolde,
And in his chaumbre sit and hath abiden
Til two or thre of his messages eden
ffor Pandarus and soughten hym ful faste,
Til they him founde and broughte hym at the laste.
This Pandarus com lepyng in attones,
And seyde thus, "who hath ben wel i-bete
To-day with swerdes and with slynge stones
But Troilus, that hath caught hym an hete?
And gan to iape and seyde, "lord, so e swete!
But ris and lat vs soupe and go to reste."
And he answerd hym, "do we as the leste."
With al the haste goodly that they myghte,
They spedde hem fro the soper vnto bedde,
And euery wight out at the dore hym dyghte,
And where hym liste vp-on his wey him spedde;
But Troilus, that thoughte his herte bledde
ffor wo til that he herde som tydyng,
He seyde, "frend, shal I now wepe or syng?"
Quod Pandarus, "ly stille and lat me slepe,
And don thyn hood, thy nedes spedde be,
And chese if thow wolt synge or daunce or lepe.
At shorte wordes, thow shalt trowen me.
Sire, my Nece wol do wel by the,
And loue the best, by god and by my trouthe,
By lakke of pursuyt make it in thi slouthe.
"ffor thus ferforth I haue thi werk bigonne,
ffro day to day til this day by the morwe,
Hire loue of frendshipe haue I to the wonne,
And therto hath she leyd hire feyth to borwe;
Algate a foot is hameled of thi sorwe."
What sholde I lenger sermoun of it holde?
As e han herd byfore, al he hym tolde.
But right as floures, thorugh the colde of nyght
Iclosed, stoupen on hire stalkes lowe,
Redressen hem aein the sonne bright,
And spreden on hire kynde cours by rowe,
Right so gan tho his eighen vp to throwe
This Troilus and seyde, "O Venus deere,
Thi myght, thi grace, y-heried be it here."
And to Pandare he held vp bothe his hondes,
And seyde, "lord, al thyn be that I haue,
ffor I am hool, al brosten ben my bondes;
A thousand Troyes who-so that me aue,
Ech after other, god so wys me saue,
Ne myghte me so gladen; lo, myn herte,
It spredeth so for ioie it wol to-sterte.
"But lord, how shal I doon, how shal I lyuen?
Whan shal I next my deere herte see?
How shal this longe tyme awey be dryuen
Til that thow be aein at hire fro me?
Thow maist answer, "abid, abid," but he
That hangeth by the nekke, soth to seyne,
In gret disese abideth for the peyne."
"Al esily, now, for the loue of Marte,"
Quod Pandarus, "for euery thing hath tyme
So longe abid til that the nyght departe;
ffor also siker as thow list here by me,
And god to-forn, I wol be ther at pryme;
And for-thi, werk som-what as I shal seye,
Or on som other wight this charge leye.
ffor pardee, god woot, I haue euere it
Den redy the to serue, and to this nyght
Haue I naught feyned, but emforth my wit
Don al thi lust, and shal with al my myght.
Do now as I shal seyn and fare aright;
And if thow nylt, wite al thi self thi care:
On me is nought a-long thyn yuel fare.
"I woot wel that thow wiser art than I
A thousand fold, but if I were as thow,
God help me so, as I wolde outrely
Right of myn owen hond write hire right now
A lettre, in which I wolde hire tellen how
I ferd amys, and hire biseche of routhe;
Now help thi self and leue it nought for slouthe-
"And I my self wol therwith to hire gon;
And whan thow woost that I am with hire there,
Worth thow vp-on a courser right anon,
e, hardily, right in thi beste gere,
And ryd forth by the place as nought ne were,
And thow shalt fynde vs, if I may, sittyng
At som wyndow in-to the strete lokyng.
"And if the list, than maystow vs salue,
And vp-on me make thow thi countenaunce,
But by thi lif be war and faste eschue
To tarien ought — god shilde vs fro meschaunce!
Rid forth thi wey and hold thi gouernaunce,
And we shal speek of the somwhat, I trowe,
Whan thow art gon, to don thyn eris glowe.
"Towchyng thi lettre, thou art wys ynough;
I woot thow nylt it dygneliche endite,
As make it with thise argumentes tough,
Ne scryuenyssh or craftily thow it write;
Biblotte it with thi teris ek a lite,
And if thow write a goodly word al softe,
Though it be good, reherce it nought to ofte.
"ffor though the beste harpour vp-on lyue
Wolde on the beste sowned ioly harpe
That euere was with alle his fyngres fyue
Touche ay o stryng or ay o werbul harpe,
Were his nayles poynted neuere so sharpe,
It sholde maken euery wight to dulle
To here his glee and of his strokes fulle.
"Ne iompre ek no discordant thyng y-feere,
As thus, to vsen termes of Phisik
In loues termes; hold of thi matere
The forme alwey and do that it be lik;
ffor if a peyntour wolde peynte a pyk
With asses feet and hedde it as an ape,
It cordeth naught, so nere it but a iape."
This counseil liked wel to Troilus,
But as a dredful louere he seyde this,
"Allas, my deere brother Pandarus,
I am ashamed forto write, ywis,
Lest of myn innocence I seyde amys,
Or that she nolde it for despit receyue;
Than were I ded, ther myght it nothying weyue."
To that Pandare answerde, "if the leste,
Do that I seye, and lat me therwith gon;
ffor by that lord that formed est and weste,
I hope of it to brynge answere anon
Right of hire hond, and if that thow nylt noon,
Lat be, and sory mote he ben his lyue
Aeins thi lust that helpeth the to thryue."
Quod Troilus, "depardieux, ich assente,
Sith that the list, I wil arise and write;
And blisful god prey ich with good entente,
The viage and the lettre I shal endite,
So spede it, and thow, Minerua the white,
Yif thow me wit my lettre to deuyse."
And sette hym down and wrot right in this wyse.
ffirst he gan hire his righte lady calle,
His hertes lif, his lust, his sorwes leche,
His blisse, and ek thise other termes alle,
That in swich cas thise loueres alle seche;
And in ful humble wise, as in his speche,
He gan hym recomaunde vnto hire grace;
To telle al how, it axeth muchel space.
And after this ful lowly he hire preyde
To be nought wroth, thogh he, of his folie,
So hardy was to hire to write, and seyde
That loue it made or elles most he die;
And pitousli gan mercy forto crye;
And after that he seyde — and leigh ful loude —
Hym self was litel worth, and lasse he koude;
And that she sholde han his konnyng excused,
That litel was, and ek he dredde hire soo,
And his vnworthynesse ay he acused;
And after that than gan he telle his woo—
But that was endeles, with-outen hoo —
And seyde he wolde in trouth alwey hym holde;
And radde it ouer and gan the lettre folde.
And with hise salte teris gan he bathe
The rubie in his signet and it sette
Up-on the wex deliuerliche and rathe;
Therwith a thousand tymes, er he lette,
He kiste tho the lettre that he shette,
And seyde, "lettre, a blisful destine
The shapyn is, my lady shal the see."
This Pandare tok the lettre, and that by-tyme
A-morwe, and to his Neces paleis sterte;
And faste he swor that it was passed prime,
And gan to iape and seyde, "ywys, myn herte,
So fresshe it is, al-though it sore smerte,
I may naught slepe neuere a Mayes morwe;
I haue a ioly wo, a lusty sorwe."
Criseyde, whan that she hire vncle herde,
With dredful herte and desirous to here
The cause of his comynge, thus answerde,
"Now by oure fey, myn vncle," quod she, "dere,
What manere wyndes gydeth ow now here?
Tel vs oure ioly wo and oure penaunce —
How ferforth be e put in loues daunce?"
"By god," quod he, "I hoppe alwey by-hynde."
And she to laughe, it thought hire herte brest.
Quod Pandarus, "loke alwey that e fynde
Game in myn hood, but herkneth, if ow lest:
Ther is right now come in-to town a gest,
A Greek espie, and telleth newe thinges,
ffor which I come to telle ow tydynges.
"In-to the gardyn go we and e shal here
Al pryuely of this a longe sermoun."
With that they wenten arm in arm yfeere,
In-to the gardyn from the chaumbre down,
And whan that he so fer was that the sown
Of that he spake no man heren myghte,
He seyde hire thus, and out the lettre plighte:
"Lo, he that is al holy oures free
Hym recomaundeth lowely to oure grace,
And sente ow this lettre here by me.
Auyseth ow on it, whan e han space,
And of som goodly answere ow purchace;
Or helpe me god, so pleynly forto seyne,
He may nat longe lyuen for his peyne."
fful dredfully tho gan she stonden stylle,
And took it naught, but al hire humble chere
Gan forto chaunge, and seyde, "scrit ne bille,
ffor loue of god, that toucheth swich matere
Ne brynge me noon; and also, vncle deere,
To myn estat haue more rewarde, I preye,
Than to his lust — what sholde I more seye?
"And loketh now if this be resonable,
And letteth nought for fauour ne for slouthe
To seyn a sooth; now were it couenable
To myn estat, by god and by oure trouthe,
To taken it or to han of hym routhe
In harmyng of my self or in repreue?
Ber it aein for hym that e on leue."
This Pandarus gan on hire forto stare,
And seyde, "now is this the grettest wondre
That euere I seigh — lat be this nyce fare!
To dethe mot I smyten be with thondre,
If for the citee which that stondeth ondre,
Wolde I a lettre vnto ow brynge or take
To harm of ow; what list ow thus it make?
"But thus e faren, wel neigh alle and some,
That he that most desireth ow to serue,
Of hym e recche leest wher he by-come,
And whethir that he lyue or elles sterue.
But for al that that euer I may deserue,
Refuse it naught," quod he and hente hire faste,
And in hire bosom the lettre down he thraste,
And seyde hire, "now cast it awey anon,
That folk may seen and gauren on vs tweye."
Quod she, "I kan abyde til they be gon,
And gan to smyle and seyde hym, "Em, I preye,
Swich answere as ow list oure self purueye,
ffor trewely I nyl no lettre write."
"No? than wol I," quod he, "so e endite."
Therwith she lough and seyde, "go we dyne."
And he gan at hym self to iape faste,
And seyde, "Nece, I haue so grete a pyne
ffor loue that euerich other day I faste,"
And gan his beste iapes forth to caste,
And made hire so to laughe at his folye,
That she for laughter wende for to dye.
And whan that she was comen in-to halle,
"Now Em," quod she, "we wol go dyne anon,"
And gan some of hire wommen to hire calle,
And streght in-to hire chambre gan she gon,
But of hire besynesses this was on,
Amonges othere thynges out of drede,
fful pryuely this lettre forto rede.
Auysed word by word in euery lyne,
And fond no lakke, she thoughte he koude good;
And vp it putte and wente hire in-to dyne;
But Pandarus, that in a studye stood,
Er he was war, she took hym by the hood,
And seyde, "e were caught er that e wist."
"I vouche-sauf," quod he, "do what ou list."
Tho wesshen they and sette hem down and ete;
And after noon ful sleighly Pandarus
Gan drawe hym to the wyndowe next the strete,
And seyde, "Nece, who hath araied thus
The onder hous that stant aforeyn vs?"
"Which hous?" quod she, and gan forto byholde,
And knew it wel, and whos it was hym tolde.
And fillen forth in speche of thynges smale,
And seten in the windowe bothe tweye,
Whan Pandarus saugh tyme vn-to his tale,
And saugh wel that hire folk were alle aweye,
"Now, Nece myn, tel on," quod he, "I seye,
How liketh ow the lettre that e woot?
Kan he ther-on? for by my trouthe, I noot."
Therwith al rosy hewed tho wex she,
And gan to homme and seyde, "so I trowe."
"Acquite hym wel, for goddes loue," quod he;
"My self to medes wol the lettre sowe."
And held his hondes vp and sat on knowe;
"Now, goode Nece, be it neuere so lite,
if me the labour it to sowe and plite."
"e, for I kan so writen," quod she tho,
"And ek I noot what I sholde to hym seye."
"Nay, Nece," quod Pandare, "sey nat so;
et at the leeste thonketh hym, I preye,
Of his good wille and doth hym nat to deye.
Now for the loue of me, my Nece deere,
Refuseth nat at this tyme my prayere."
"Depardieux," quod she, "god leue al be wel!
God help me so, this is the firste lettre
That euere I wroot, e, al or any del."
And in-to a closet for tauise hire bettre
She wente allone, and gan hire herte vnfettre
Out of desdaynes prisoun but a lite,
And sette hire down and gan a lettre write.
Of which to telle in short is myn entente
Theffect as fer as I kan vnderstonde:
She thanked hym of al that he wel mente
Towardes hire, but holden hym in honde
She nolde nought, ne make hire seluen bonde
In loue, but as his suster hym to plese
She wolde ay fayn, to doon his herte an ese.
She shette it and to Pandare in gan goon,
Ther as he sat and loked in-to the strete,
And down she sette hire by hym on a stoon
Of iaspre, vp-on a quysshyn gold y-bete,
And seyde, "as wisly help me god the grete,
I neuere dide a thing with more peyne
Than writen this, to which e me constreyne" —
And took it hym. He thonked hire and seyde,
"God woot, of thyng ful often looth bygonne
Comth ende good, and, Nece myn, Criseyde,
That e to hym of hard now ben y-wonne
Oughte he be glad, by god and onder sonne;
ffor whi men seith, "Impressiounes lighte
fful lightly ben ay redy to the flighte."
"But e han played the tirant neigh to longe,
And hard was it oure herte forto graue;
Now stynte, that e no lenger on it honge,
Al wolde e the forme of daunger saue,
But hasteth ow to doon hym ioye haue;
ffor trusteth wel, to long y-doon hardnesse
Causeth despit ful often for destresse."
And right as they declamed this matere,
Lo, Troilus, right at the stretes ende,
Com rydyng with his tenthe somme y-fere,
Al softely, and thiderward gan bende
Ther as they sete, as was his way to wende
To paleis-ward, and Pandare hym aspide
And seyde, "Nece, i-see who comth here ride.
"O fle naught in — he seeth vs, I suppose —
Lest he may thynken that e hym eschuwe."
"Nay, nay," quod she, and wex as rede as rose.
With that he gan hire humbly to saluwe,
With dredful chere and oft his hewes muwe,
And vp his look debonairly he caste,
And bekked on Pandare and forth he paste.
God woot if he sat on his hors aright,
Or goodly was biseyn that ilke day!
God woot wher he was lik a manly knyght!
What sholde I drecche or telle of his aray?
Criseyde, which that alle thise thynges say,
To telle in short, hire liked al in fere,
His persoun, his aray, his look, his chere,
His goodly manere, and his gentilesse,
So wel that neuere, sith that she was born,
Ne hadde she swych routh of his destresse;
And how so she hath hard ben here byforn,
To god hope I she hath now kaught a thorn,
She shal nat pulle it out this nexte wyke —
God sende mo swich thornes on to pike.
Pandare, which that stood hire faste by,
ffelte iren hoot and he bygan to smyte,
And seyde, "Nece, I pray ow hertely,
Tel me that I shal axen ow a lite:
A womman that were of his deth to wite,
With-outen his gilt, but for hire lakked routhe,
Were it wel doon?" Quod she, "nay, by my trouthe."
"God help me so," quod he, "e sey me soth.
e felen wel oure self that I nought lye.
Lo, ond he rit!" "e," quod she, "so he doth."
"Wel," quod Pandare, "as I haue told ow thrie,
Lat be oure nyce shame and oure folie,
And spek with hym in esyng of his herte;
Lat nycete nat do ow bothe smerte."
But ther-on was to heuen and to doone,
Considered al thing, it may nat be;
And whi? for shame, and it were ek to soone
To graunten hym so grete a libertee.
ffor pleynly hire entente, as seyde she,
Was forto loue hym vnwist if she myghte,
And guerdoun hym with no thing but with sighte.
But Pandarus thought, "it shal nought be so,
if that I may, this nyce opynyoun
Shal nought be holden fully eres two."
What sholde I make of this a long sermoun?
He moste assente on that conclusioun
As for the tyme, and whan that it was eue,
And al was wel, he roos and toke his leue.
And on his wey ful faste homward he spedde,
And right for ioye he felte his herte daunce;
And Troilus he fond allone a-bedde,
That lay as do thise louers in a traunce,
Bitwixen hope and derk disesperaunce.
But Pandarus, right at his in comynge,
He song, as who seyth, "somwhat I brynge."
And seyde, "who is in his bed so soone
I-buried thus?" "It am I, frend," quod he.
"Who, Troilus? nay, help me so the moone,"
Quod Pandarus, "thow shalt arise and see
A charme that was sent right now to the,
The which kan helen the of thyn accesse,
If thow do forth-with al thi bisynesse.",
"e, thorugh the myght of god," quod Troilus.
And Pandarus gan hym the lettre take,
And seyde, "parde, god hath holpen vs;
Haue here a light and loke on al this blake."
But ofte gan the herte glade and quake
Of Troilus, whil that he gan it rede,
So as the wordes aue hym hope or drede.
But finaly he took al for the beste
That she hym wroot, for somwhat he byhelde
On which hym thoughte he myghte his herte reste,
Al couered she the wordes vnder shelde.
Thus to the more worthi part he helde,
That what for hope and Pandarus byheste,
His grete wo forede he at the leste.
But as we may alday oure seluen see,
Thorugh more wode or col the more fire,
Right so encrees of hope, of what it be,
Therwith ful ofte encresseth ek desire;
Or as an ook comth of a litil spire,
So thorugh this lettre which that she hym sente
Encrescen gan desire of which he brente.
Wherfore I seye alwey that day and nyght
This Troilus gan to desiren moore
Thanne he did erst, thorugh hope, and did his myght
To preessen on as by Pandarus loore,
And writen to hire of his sorwes soore;
ffro day to day he leet it nought refreyde,
That by Pandare he wroot somwhat or seyde;
And dide also his other obseruaunces,
That til a louere longeth in this cas;
And after that his dees torned on chaunces,
So was he outher glad or seyde "allas."
And held after his gistes ay hid pas;
And after swiche answeres as he hadde,
So were his dayes sory outher gladde.
But to Pandare alwey was his recours,
And pitously gan ay to hym to pleyne,
And hym bisoughte of reed and som socours;
And Pandarus, that sey his woode peyne,
Wex wel neigh ded for routhe, sooth to seyne,
And bisily with al his herte cast
Som of his wo to slen, and that as faste;
And seyde, "lord and frend and brother dere,
God woot that thi disese doth me wo.
But wiltow stynten al this woful cheere,
And by my trouthe, er it be dayes two,
And god to-forn, et shal I shape it so,
That thow shalt come in-to a certeyn place,
There as thow mayst thi self hire preye of grace.
"And certeynly — I noot if thow it woost,
But tho that ben expert in loue it seye —
It is oon of the thynges forthereth most
A man to han a layser forto preye,
And siker place his wo forto bywreye;
ffor in good herte it mot som routhe impresse
To here and see the giltlees in distresse.
"Peraunter thynkestow: though it be so,
That kynde wolde don hire to bygynne
To haue a manere routhe vpon my woo,
Seyth daunger, "nay, thow shalt me neuere wynne."
So reulith hire hir hertes gost with-inne,
That though she bende, eet she stant on roote;
What in effect is this vnto my boote?
"Thenk here aeins: whan that the stordy ook,
On which men hakketh ofte for the nones,
Receyued hath the happy fallyng strook,
The greete sweigh doth it come al at ones,
As don thise rokkes or thise milnestones;
ffor swifter cours comth thyng that is of wighte,
Whan it descendeth, than don thynges lighte.
"And reed that boweth down for euery blaste,
fful lightly, cesse wynd, it wol aryse;
But so nyl nought an ook whan it is caste;
It nedeth me nought the longe to forbise.
Men shal reioissen of a grete empryse
Acheued wel, and stant with-outen doute,
Al han men ben the lenger ther-aboute.
"But Troilus, et telle me if the lest
A thing now which that I shal axen the:
Which is thi brother that thow louest best,
As in thi verray hertes priuetee?"
"I-wis, my brother Deiphebus," quod he.
"Now," quod Pandare, "er houres twyes twelue,
He shal the ese, vnwist of it hym selue.
"Now lat malone and werken as I may,"
Quod he; and to Deiphebus wente he tho,
Which hadde his lord and grete frend ben ay;
Saue Troilus, no man he loued so.
To telle in short, withouten wordes mo,
Quod Pandarus, "I pray ow that e be
ffrend to a cause which that toucheth me."
"is, perde," quod Deiphebus, "wel thow woost,
In al that euere I may, and god to-fore,
Al nere it but for man I loue moost,
My brother Troilus; but sey wherfore
It is, for sith that day that I was bore,
I nas, ne neuere mo to ben I thynke,
Aeins a thing that myghte the forthynke."
Pandare gan hym thank and to hym seyde,
"Lo, sire, I haue a lady in this town,
That is my Nece and called is Criseyde,
Which som men wolden don oppressioun;
And wrongfully han hire possessioun;
Wherfore I of oure lordship ow biseche
To ben oure frend, withouten more speche."
Deiphebus hym answerde, "O, is nat this,
That thow spekest of to me thus straungely,
Criseyda, my frend?" He seyde, "is."
"Than nedeth," quod Deiphebus, "hardyly,
Namore to speke, for trusteth wel that I
Wol be hire champioun with spore and erde;
I roughte nought though alle hire foos it herde.
"But telle me, thow that woost al this matere,
How I myght best auaylen." — "Now lat se,"
Quod Pandarus, "if e, my lord so dere,
Wolden as now do this honour to me,
To preyen hire to-morwe, lo, that she
Come vn-to ow, hire pleyntes to deuise,
Hire aduersaries wolde of it agrise.
"And if I more dorste prey ow as now,
And chargen ow to han so gret trauaille,
To han som of oure bretheren here with ow,
That myghten to hire cause bet auaille,
Than wot I wel she myghte neuere faille
fforto ben holpen, what at oure instaunce,
What with hire other frendes gouernaunce."
Deiphebus, which that comen was of kynde
To alle honour and bounte to consente,
Answerd, "it shal be don, and I kan fynde
et grettere help to this in myn entente.
What wiltow seyn if I for Eleyne sente
To speke of this? I trowe it be the beste,
ffor she may leden Paris as hire leste.
"Of Ector, which that is my lord, my brother,
It nedeth naught to preye hym frend to be;
ffor I haue herd hym, o tyme and ek oother,
Speke of Cryseyde swich honour that he
May seyn no bet, swich hap to hym hath she:
It nedeth naught his helpes forto craue;
He shal be swich right as we wol hym haue.
"Speke thow thi self also to Troilus
On my byhalue, and prey hym with vs dyne."
"Syre, al this shal be don," quod Pandarus,
And took his leue and neuere gan to fyne,
But to his Neces hous as streyght as lyne
He come, and fond hire fro the mete arise,
And sette hym down and spak right in this wise.
He seide, "O verray god, so haue I ronne!
Lo, Nece myn, se e nought how I swete?
I not wheither e the more thank me konne.
Be e naught war how false Poliphete
Is now aboute eftsones forto plete
And brynge on ow aduocacies newe?"
"I? no," quod she, and chaunged al hire hewe.
"What is he more aboute me to drecche
And don me wrong? what shal I doon, allas?
et of hym self nothing ne wolde I recche,
Nere it for Antenor and Eneas,
That ben his frendes in swich manere cas.
But for the loue of god, myn vncle deere,
No fors of that, lat hym han al yfeere.
"With-outen that I haue ynough for vs."
"Nay," quod Pandare, "it shal no thing be so,
ffor I haue ben right now at Deiphebus,
At Ector, and myn oother lordes moo,
And shortly maked eche of hem his foo,
That, by my thrift, he shal it neuere wynne,
ffor aught he kan, whan that so he bygynne."
And as thei casten what was best to doone,
Deiphebus of his owen curteisie
Com hire to preye, in his propre persone,
To holde hym on the morwe compaignie,
At dyner, which she nolde nought denye,
But goodly gan to his preier obeye.
He thonked hire and went vp-on his weye.
Whan this was don, this Pandare vp anon,
To telle in short, and forth gan forto wende
To Troilus, as stille as any ston,
And al this thyng he tolde hym worde and ende,
And how that he Deiphebus gan to blende,
And seyde hym, "now is tyme, if that thow konne,
To bere the wel to-morwe, and al is wonne.
"Now spek, now prey, now pitously compleigne;
Lat nought for nyce shame or drede or slouthe.
Som tyme a man mot telle his owen peyne;
Bileue it, and she shal han on the routhe;
Thow shalt be saued by thi feyth in trouthe.
But wel woot I that thow art now in deede,
And what it is I leye I kan arede.
"Thow thynkest now, "how sholde I don al this?
ffor by my cheres mosten folk aspie
That for hire loue is that I fare amys;
et hadde I leuere vnwist for sorwe dye."
Now thynk nat so, for thow dost gret folie,
ffor I right now haue founden o manere
Of sleyghte forto coueren al thi cheere.
"Thow shalt gon ouer nyght, and that bylyue,
Unto Deiphebus hous as the to pleye,
Thi maladie awey the bet to dryue,
ffor whi thow semest sik, soth forto seye.
Soone after that, down in thi bed the leye,
And sey thow mayst no lenger vp endure,
And lie right there and bide thyn auenture.
"Sey that thi fevre is wont the forto take
The same tyme, and lasten til a-morwe;
And lat se now how wel thow kanst it make,
ffor perde, sik is he that is in sorwe.
Go now, far-wel; and Venus here to borwe,
I hope, and thow this purpos holde ferme,
Thi grace she shal fully ther conferme."
Quod Troilus, "i-wis, thow nedeles
Conseilest me that siklich I me feyne,
ffor I am sik in ernest, douteles,
So that wel neigh I sterue for the peyne."
Quod Pandarus, "thow shalt the bettre pleyne,
And hast the lasse nede to countrefete,
ffor hym men demen hoot that men seen swete.
"Lo, hold the at thi triste cloos, and I
Shal wel the deer vnto thi bowe dryue."
Therwith he took his leue al softely,
And Troilus to paleis wente blyue;
So glad ne was he neuere in al his lyue,
And to Pandarus reed gan al assente,
And to Deiphebus hous at nyght he wente.
What nedeth ow to tellen al the cheere
That Deiphebus vnto his brother made,
Or his accesse or his siklich manere —
How men gan hym with clothes forto lade,
Whan he was leyd, and how men wolde hym glade?
But al for nought: he held forth ay the wyse
That e han herd Pandare er this deuyse.
But certayn is, er Troilus hym leyde,
Deiphebus had hym preied ouer nyght
To ben a frend and helpyng to Criseyde.
God woot that he it graunted a-non right,
To ben hire fulle frend with al his myght;
But swich a nede was to preye hym thenne,
As forto bidde a wood man forto renne.
The morwen com and neighen gan the tyme
Of meeltide that the faire queene Eleyne
Shoop hire to ben, an houre after the prime,
With Deiphebus, to whom she nolde feyne;
But as his suster, homly, soth to seyne,
She com to dyner in hire pleyne entente —
But god and Pandare wist al what this mente.
Com ek Criseyde, al innocent of this,
Antigone, hire suster Tarbe also,
But fle we now prolixitee best is,
ffor loue of god, and lat vs faste go
Right to theffect, withouten tales mo,
Whi al this folk assembled in this place;
And lat vs of hire saluynges pace.
Gret honour did hem Deiphebus, certeyn,
And fedde hem wel with al that myghte like,
But euere mo, "allas," was his refreyn,
"My goode brother, Troilus, the syke,
Lith et" — and therwithal he gan to sike;
And after that he peyned hym to glade
Hem as he myghte and cheere good he made.
Compleyned ek Eleyne of his siknesse
So feythfully that pite was to here;
And euery wight gan waxen for accesse
A leche anon and seyde, "in this manere
Men curen folk; this charme I wol ow leere";
But ther sat oon, al list hire nought to teche,
That thoughte, "best koude I et ben his leche."
After compleynte, hym gonnen they to preyse,
As folk don et whan som wight hath bygonne
To preise a man, and vp with pris hym reise
A thousand fold et heigher than the sonne:
"He is, he kan, that fewe lordes konne."
And Pandarus, of that they wolde afferme,
He naught forgat hire preisynge to conferme.
Herde al this thyng Criseyde wel i-nough,
And euery word gan forto notifie,
ffor which with sobre cheere hire herte lough;
ffor who is that ne wolde hire glorifie,
To mowen swich a knyght don lyue or dye?
But al passe I, lest e to longe dwelle;
ffor for o fyn is al that euere I telle.
The tyme com fro dyner forto ryse,
And as hem aughte arisen euerichone,
And gonne a while of this and that deuise;
But Pandarus brak al this speche anone,
And seide to Deiphebus, "wol e gone,
If it oure wille be, as I ow preyde,
To speke here of the nedes of Criseyde?"
Eleyne, which that by the hond hire helde,
Took first the tale and seyde, "go we blyue";
And goodly on Criseyde she bihelde,
And seyde, "Ioues lat hym neuere thryue,
That doth ow harm, and brynge hym soone of lyue,
And eue me sorwe but he shal it rewe,
If that I may, and alle folk be trewe."
"Tel thow thi Neces cas," quod Deiphebus
To Pandarus, "for thow kanst best it telle."
"My lordes and my ladyes, it stant thus:
What sholde I lenger," quod he, "do ow dwelle?"
He rong hem out a proces lik a belle
Up-on hire foo, that highte Poliphete,
So heynous that men myghte on it spete.
Answerde of this eche werse of hem than other,
And Poliphete they gonnen thus to warien:
"Anhonged be swich oon, were he my brother,
And so he shal, for it ne may nought varien."
What shold I lenger in this tale tarien?
Pleynliche alle at ones they hire highten
To ben hire help in al that euere they myghten.
Spak than Eleyne and seyde, "Pandarus,
Woot ought my lord my brother this matere,
I meene Ector? or woot it Troilus?"
He seyde, "e, but wole e now me here?
Me thynketh this, sith that Troilus is here,
It were good, if that e wolde assente,
She tolde hire self hym al this er she wente.
"ffor he wol haue the more hir grief at herte,
By-cause, lo, that she a lady is,
And, by oure leue, I wol but in right sterte
And do ow wyte, and that anon, i-wys,
If that he slepe, or wol ought here of this."
And in he lepte, and seyde hym in his ere,
"God haue thi soule, i-brought haue I thi beere!"
To smylen of this gan tho Troilus,
And Pandarus, withouten rekenyng,
Out wente anon to Eleyne and Deiphebus,
And seyde hem, "so ther be no tarying,
Ne moore prees, he wol wel that e bryng
Criseyda, my lady, that is here,
And as he may enduren, he wol here.
"But wel e woot, the chaumbre is but lite,
And fewe folk may lightly make it warme;
Now loketh e — for I wol haue no wite,
To brynge in prees that myghte don hym harme,
Or hym disesen, for my bettre arme —
Wher it be bet she bide til eft-sonys?
Now loketh e, that knowen what to doon is.
"I sey for me, best is, as I kan knowe,
That no wight in ne wente but e tweye,
But it were I, for I kan in a throwe
Reherce hire cas vnlik that she kan seye;
And after this she may hym ones preye
To ben good lord, in short, and take hire leue;
This may nought muchel of his ese hym reue-
"And ek for she is straunge, he wol forbere
His ese which that hym thar nought for ow;
Ek oother thing that toucheth nought to here
He wol ow telle—I woot it wel, right now —
That secret is, and for the townes prow."
And they that nothyng knewe of his entente,
With-outen more, to Troilus in they wente.
Eleyne in al hire goodly, softe wyse
Gan hym salue, wommanly to pleye,
And seyde, "I-wys, e moste algate arise;
Now, faire brother, beth al hool, I preye."
And gan hire arm right ouer his shulder leye,
And hym with al hire wit to reconforte;
As she best koude, she gan hym to disporte.
So after this quod she, "we ow biseke,
My deere brother, Deiphebus and I,
ffor loue of god, and so doth Pandare eke,
To ben good lord and frend right hertely
Unto Criseyde, which that certeynly
Receyueth wrong, as woot weel here Pandare,
That kan hire cas wel bet than I declare."
This Pandarus gan newe his tong affile,
And al hire cas reherce and that anon.
Whan it was seyd, soone after in a while,
Quod Troilus. "as sone as I may gon,
I wol right fayn with al my myght ben oon,
Haue god my trouthe, hire cause to sustene."
"Good thrift haue e," quod Eleyne the queene."
Quod Pandarus, "and it oure wille be,
That she may take hire leue er that she go?"
"O, elles god forbede it," tho quod he,
If that she vouche sauf forto do so."
And with that word quod Troilus, "e two,
Deiphebus and my suster lief and deere,
To ow haue I to speke of o matere,
"To ben auysed by oure reed the bettre."
And fond, as hap was, at his beddes hede,
The copie of a tretys and a lettre
That Ector hadde hym sent to axen rede
If swych a man was worthi to ben dede —
Woot I nought who — but in a grisly wise
He preyede hem anon on it auyse.
Deiphebus gan this lettre for tonfolde
In ernest greet; so did Eleyne the queene;
And romyng outward faste it gonne byholde,
Downward a steire, in-to an herber greene,
This ilke thing they redden hem bitwene;
And largely, the mountance of an houre,
Thei gonne on it to reden and to poure.
Now lat hem rede, and torne we anon
To Pandarus, that gan ful faste prye
That al was wel, and out he gan to gon
In-to the grete chaumbre, and that in hye,
And seyde, "god saue al this compaynye!
Come, Nece myn, my lady queene Eleyne
Abideth ow and ek my lordes tweyne.
"Rys, take with ow oure Nece, Antigone,
Or whom ow list — or no fors, hardyly
The lesse prees the bet — com forth with me,
And loke that e thonken humblely
Hem alle thre, and whan e may goodly
oure tyme se, taketh of hem oure leeue,
Lest we to longe hise restes hym byreeue.",
Al innocent of Pandarus entente,
Quod tho Criseyde, "go we, vncle deere."
And arm in arm inward with hym she wente,
Auysed wel hire wordes and hire cheere;
And Pandarus in ernestful manere
Seyde, "We folk, for goddes loue, I preye,
Stynteth right here, and softely ow pleye.
"Auyseth ow what folk ben here with-inne,
And in what plit oon is, god hym amende!"
And inward thus, "ful softely bygynne,
Nece, I coniure and heighly ow defende,
On his half which that soule vs alle sende,
And in the vertue of corones tweyne,
Sle naught this man that hath for ow this peyne.
"ffy on the deuel! thynk which oon he is,
And in what plit he lith; com of anon!
Thynk al swich taried tyde but lost it nys —
That wol e bothe seyn whan e ben oon.
Secoundely, ther et deuyneth noon
Upon ow two; come of now, if e konne —
While folk is blent, lo, al the tyme is wonne.
"In titeryng and pursuyte and delayes
The folk deuyne at waggyng of a stree;
And though e wolde han after mirye dayes,
Than dar e naught; and whi? for she and she
Spak swych a word, thus loked he and he;
Las tyme i-loste, I dar nought with ow dele;
Com of, therfore, and bryngeth hym to hele."
But now to ow, e loueres that ben here,
Was Troilus nought in a kankedort,
That lay and myghte whisprynge of hem here,
And thoughte, "O lord, right now renneth my sort
ffully to deye or han anon comfort,"
And was the firste tyme he shulde hire preye
Of loue? O myghty god, what shal he seye?
Explicit secundus liber.