Geoffrey Chaucer

“ How sholde a plaunte or lyves creature Live, with-oute his kinde noriture? For which ful oft a by-word here I seye, 770 That "rotelees, mot grene sone deye." `I shal don thus, sin neither swerd ne darte Dar I non handle, for the crueltee, That ilke day that I from yow departe, If sorwe of that nil not my bane be, 775 Than shal no mete or drinke come in me Til I my soule out of my breste unshethe; And thus my-selven wol I do to dethe. `And, Troilus, my clothes everichoon Shul blake been, in tokeninge, herte swete, 780 That I am as out of this world agoon, That wont was yow to setten in quiete ”

“ Allas the whyle! What have I doon, what have I thus a-gilt? How mightestow for reuthe me bigyle? Is ther no grace, and shal I thus be spilt? Shal thus Criseyde awey, for that thou wilt? 265 Allas! How maystow in thyn herte finde To been to me thus cruel and unkinde? `Have I thee nought honoured al my lyve, As thou wel wost, above the goddes alle? Why wiltow me fro Ioye thus depryve? 270 O Troilus, what may men now thee calle But wrecche of wrecches, out of honour falle In-to miserie, in which I wol biwayle Criseyde, allas! ”

“ Why sholde than for ferd thyn herte quake? Thenk eek how Paris hath, that is thy brother, A love; and why shaltow not have another? 610 `And Troilus, o thing I dar thee swere, That if Criseyde, whiche that is thy leef, Now loveth thee as wel as thou dost here, God helpe me so, she nil nat take a-greef, Though thou do bote a-noon in this mischeef. 615 And if she wilneth fro thee for to passe, Thanne is she fals; so love hir wel the lasse. `For-thy tak herte, and thenk, right as a knight, Thourgh love is broken alday every lawe. ”

“ Sin she is queynt, that wont was yow to lighte, In veyn fro-this-forth have I eyen tweye 315 Y-formed, sin your vertue is a-weye. `O my Criseyde, O lady sovereyne Of thilke woful soule that thus cryeth, Who shal now yeven comfort to the peyne? Allas, no wight; but when myn herte dyeth, 320 My spirit, which that so un-to yow hyeth, Receyve in gree, for that shal ay yow serve; For-thy no fors is, though the body sterve. `O ye loveres, that heighe upon the wheel Ben set of Fortune, in good aventure, 325 God leve that ye finde ay love of steel, And longe mot your lyf in Ioye endure! ”

“ Sin love and cruel Fortune it ne wolde, 1190 That in this world he lenger liven sholde. Thanne seyde he thus, fulfild of heigh desdayn, `O cruel Iove, and thou, Fortune adverse, This al and som, that falsly have ye slayn Criseyde, and sin ye may do me no werse, 1195 Fy on your might and werkes so diverse! Thus cowardly ye shul me never winne; Ther shal no deeth me fro my lady twinne. `For I this world, sin ye han slayn hir thus, Wol lete, and folowe hir spirit lowe or hye; 1200 Shal never lover seyn that Troilus Dar not, for fere, with his lady dye; For certeyn, I wol bere hir companye. ”

“ Ye, or men lyeth! 835 And alle worldly blisse, as thinketh me. The ende of blisse ay sorwe it occupyeth; And who-so troweth not that it so be, Lat him upon me, woful wrecche, y-see, That my-self hate, and ay my birthe acorse, 840 Felinge alwey, fro wikke I go to worse. `Who-so me seeth, he seeth sorwe al at ones, Peyne, torment, pleynte, wo, distresse. Out of my woful body harm ther noon is, As anguish, langour, cruel bitternesse, 845 A-noy, smert, drede, fury, and eek siknesse. I trowe, y-wis, from hevene teres reyne, For pitee of myn aspre and cruel peyne! ”

“ But as hir man I wol ay live and sterve, And never other creature serve. `And ther thou seyst, thou shalt as faire finde 450 As she, lat be, make no comparisoun To creature y-formed here by kinde. O leve Pandare, in conclusioun, I wol not be of thyn opinioun, Touching al this; for whiche I thee biseche, 455 So hold thy pees; thou sleest me with thy speche. `Thow biddest me I sholde love an-other Al freshly newe, and lat Criseyde go! It lyth not in my power, leve brother. And though I mighte, I wolde not do so. ”

“ But swich an ese ther-with they hir wroughte Right as a man is esed for to fele, For ache of heed, to clawen him on his hele! But after al this nyce vanitee 730 They took hir leve, and hoom they wenten alle. Criseyde, ful of sorweful pitee, In-to hir chaumbre up wente out of the halle, And on hir bed she gan for deed to falle, In purpos never thennes for to ryse; 735 And thus she wroughte, as I shal yow devyse. Hir ounded heer, that sonnish was of hewe, She rente, and eek hir fingres longe and smale She wrong ful ofte, and bad god on hir rewe, And with the deeth to doon bote on hir bale. ”

“ For when men han wel cryed, than wol they roune; A wonder last but nyne night never in toune. `Devyne not in reson ay so depe 590 Ne curteysly, but help thy-self anoon; Bet is that othere than thy-selven wepe, And namely, sin ye two been al oon. Rys up, for by myn heed, she shal not goon; And rather be in blame a lyte y-founde 595 Than sterve here as a gnat, with-oute wounde. `It is no shame un-to yow, ne no vyce Hir to with-holden, that ye loveth most. Paraunter, she mighte holden thee for nyce To lete hir go thus to the Grekes ost. ”

“ Who seigh ever a wys man faren so? Why, Troilus, what thenkestow to done? Hastow swich lust to been thyn owene fo? 1090 What, parde, yet is not Criseyde a-go! Why list thee so thy-self for-doon for drede, That in thyn heed thyn eyen semen dede? `Hastow not lived many a yeer biforn With-outen hir, and ferd ful wel at ese? 1095 Artow for hir and for non other born? Hath kinde thee wroughte al-only hir to plese? Lat be, and thenk right thus in thy disese. That, in the dees right as ther fallen chaunces, Right so in love, ther come and goon plesaunces. ”

“ The sorwe and wo ye wolden make, 1565 That ye ne dorste come ayein for shame! And er that ye Iuparten so your name, Beth nought to hasty in this hote fare; For hasty man ne wanteth never care. `What trowe ye the peple eek al aboute 1570 Wolde of it seye? It is ful light to arede. They wolden seye, and swere it, out of doute, That love ne droof yow nought to doon this dede, But lust voluptuous and coward drede. ”

“ For thus men seyn, "That oon thenketh the bere, But al another thenketh his ledere." 1455 Your sire is wys, and seyd is, out of drede, "Men may the wyse at-renne, and not at-rede." `It is ful hard to halten unespyed Bifore a crepul, for he can the craft; Your fader is in sleighte as Argus yed; 1460 For al be that his moeble is him biraft, His olde sleighte is yet so with him laft, Ye shal not blende him for your womanhede, Ne feyne a-right, and that is al my drede. `I noot if pees shal ever-mo bityde ”

“ For ay with gold men may the herte grave Of him that set is up-on coveityse; And how I mene, I shal it yow devyse. 1380 `The moeble which that I have in this toun Un-to my fader shal I take, and seye, That right for trust and for savacioun It sent is from a freend of his or tweye, The whiche freendes ferventliche him preye 1385 To senden after more, and that in hye, Whyl that this toun stant thus in Iupartye. `And that shal been an huge quantitee, Thus shal I seyn, but, lest it folk aspyde, This may be sent by no wight but by me ”

“ Ligginge in ost, as I have seyd er this, 30 The Grekes stronge, aboute Troye toun, Bifel that, whan that Phebus shyning is Up-on the brest of Hercules Lyoun, That Ector, with ful many a bold baroun, Caste on a day with Grekes for to fighte, 35 As he was wont to greve hem what he mighte. Not I how longe or short it was bitwene This purpos and that day they fighte mente; But on a day wel armed, bright and shene, Ector, and many a worthy wight out wente, 40 With spere in hond and bigge bowes bente; And in the herd, with-oute lenger lette, Hir fomen in the feld anoon hem mette. ”

“ For to what fyn he wolde anoon pretende, That knowe I wel; and for-thy yet I seye, So leef this sorwe, or platly he wol deye. 925 `And shapeth yow his sorwe for to abregge, And nought encresse, leve nece swete; Beth rather to him cause of flat than egge, And with som wysdom ye his sorwes bete. What helpeth it to wepen ful a strete, 930 Or though ye bothe in salte teres dreynte? Bet is a tyme of cure ay than of pleynte. `I mene thus; whan I him hider bringe, Sin ye ben wyse, and bothe of oon assent, So shapeth how distourbe your goinge, 935 Or come ayen, sone after ye be went. ”

“ For if he wiste in Troye how wel I fare, Us neded for my wending nought to care. 1345 `Ye seen that every day eek, more and more, Men trete of pees; and it supposed is, That men the quene Eleyne shal restore, And Grekes us restore that is mis. So though ther nere comfort noon but this, 1350 That men purposen pees on every syde, Ye may the bettre at ese of herte abyde. `For if that it be pees, myn herte dere, The nature of the pees mot nedes dryve That men moste entrecomunen y-fere, 1355 And to and fro eek ryde and gon as blyve Alday as thikke as been flen from an hyve ”

“ But rather, for the man sit ther bifore, 1040 Therfore is thyn opinioun sooth, y-wis. And I seye, though the cause of sooth of this Comth of his sitting, yet necessitee Is entrechaunged, bothe in him and thee. `Thus on this same wyse, out of doutaunce, 1045 I may wel maken, as it semeth me, My resoninge of goddes purveyaunce, And of the thinges that to comen be; By whiche reson men may wel y-see, That thilke thinges that in erthe falle, 1050 That by necessitee they comen alle. ”

“ So sleye arn clerkes olde, That I not whos opinion I may holde. `For som men seyn, if god seth al biforn, 975 Ne god may not deceyved ben, pardee, Than moot it fallen, though men hadde it sworn, That purveyaunce hath seyn bifore to be. ”

“ And fare now wel, for in this point I reste.' The swifte Fame, whiche that false thinges 660 Egal reporteth lyk the thinges trewe, Was thorugh-out Troye y-fled with preste winges Fro man to man, and made this tale al newe, How Calkas doughter, with hir brighte hewe, At parlement, with-oute wordes more, 665 I-graunted was in chaunge of Antenore. The whiche tale anoon-right as Criseyde Had herd, she, which that of hir fader roughte, As in this cas, right nought, ne whanne he deyde, Ful bisily to Iuppiter bisoughte 670 Yeve hem mischaunce that this tretis broughte. ”

“ I can no more, it shal be founde at preve.' 1660 `Graunt mercy, goode myn, y-wis,' quod she, `And blisful Venus lat me never sterve Er I may stonde of plesaunce in degree To quyte him wel, that so wel can deserve; And whyl that god my wit wol me conserve, 1665 I shal so doon, so trewe I have yow founde, That ay honour to me-ward shal rebounde. `For trusteth wel, that your estat royal Ne veyn delyt, nor only worthinesse Of yow in werre, or torney marcial, 1670 Ne pompe, array, nobley, or eek richesse, Ne made me to rewe on your distresse ”