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. BOOK III Incipit prohemium tercii libri. 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. 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
Posted on: Wed, 13 Nov 2013 01:05:06 +0000
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