Geoffrey Chaucer

“ And though your sorwes be for thinges grete, Noot I not why, but out of more respyt, Myn herte hath for to amende it greet delyt. And if I may your harmes not redresse, 140 I am right sory for your hevinesse, `And though ye Troians with us Grekes wrothe Han many a day be, alwey yet, pardee, O god of love in sooth we serven bothe. And, for the love of god, my lady free, 145 Whom so ye hate, as beth not wroth with me. For trewely, ther can no wight yow serve, That half so looth your wraththe wolde deserve. ”

“ And ay bi-syde him was this Pandarus, That bisily dide alle his fulle might Him to comforte, and make his herte light; 685 Yevinge him hope alwey, the tenthe morwe That she shal come, and stinten al his sorwe. Up-on that other syde eek was Criseyde, With wommen fewe, among the Grekes stronge; For which ful ofte a day `Allas,' she seyde, 690 `That I was born! Wel may myn herte longe After my deeth; for now live I to longe! Allas! And I ne may it not amende; For now is wors than ever yet I wende. `My fader nil for no-thing do me grace 695 To goon ayein, for nought I can him queme ”

“ Why nil I rather with a man or two Stele hir a-way? Why wol I this endure? Why nil I helpen to myn owene cure?' 50 But why he nolde doon so fel a dede, That shal I seyn, and why him liste it spare; He hadde in herte alweyes a maner drede, Lest that Criseyde, in rumour of this fare, Sholde han ben slayn; lo, this was al his care. 55 And ellis, certeyn, as I seyde yore, He hadde it doon, with-outen wordes more. Criseyde, whan she redy was to ryde, Ful sorwfully she sighte, and seyde `Allas!' But forth she moot, for ought that may bityde, 60 And forth she rit ful sorwfully a pas. ”

“ It preveth wel, he spak so that Criseyde Graunted, on the morwe, at his requeste, 950 For to speken with him at the leste, So that he nolde speke of swich matere; And thus to him she seyde, as ye may here: As she that hadde hir herte on Troilus So faste, that ther may it noon arace; 955 And straungely she spak, and seyde thus; `O Diomede, I love that ilke place Ther I was born; and Ioves, for his grace, Delivere it sone of al that doth it care! God, for thy might, so leve it wel to fare! 960 `That Grekes wolde hir wraththe on Troye wreke, If that they mighte, I knowe it wel, y-wis. ”

“ The more harm is, Unhappily at Thebes al to rathe, Polymites and many a man to scathe. `But herte myn, sin that I am your man, 940 And been the ferste of whom I seche grace, To serven you as hertely as I can, And ever shal, whyl I to live have space, So, er that I departe out of this place, Ye wol me graunte, that I may to-morwe, 945 At bettre leyser, telle yow my sorwe.' What shold I telle his wordes that he seyde? ”

“ Have here my trouthe, I see hir! Yond she is. Heve up thyn eyen, man! Maystow not see?' 1160 Pandare answerde, `Nay, so mote I thee! Al wrong, by god; what seystow, man, wher art? That I see yond nis but a fare-cart.' `Allas, thou seist right sooth,' quod Troilus; `But, hardely, it is not al for nought 1165 That in myn herte I now reioyse thus. It is ayein som good I have a thought. Noot I not how, but sin that I was wrought, Ne felte I swich a confort, dar I seye; She comth to-night, my lyf, that dorste I leye!' 1170 Pandare answerde, `It may be wel, y-nough' ”

“ For fere of which men wenen lese her lyves, As ravenes qualm, or shryking of thise oules. To trowen on it bothe fals and foul is. Allas, allas, so noble a creature 385 As is a man, shal drede swich ordure! `For which with al myn herte I thee beseche, Un-to thy-self that al this thou foryive; And rys up now with-oute more speche, And lat us caste how forth may best be drive 390 This tyme, and eek how freshly we may live Whan that she cometh, the which shal be right sone; God help me so, the beste is thus to done. `Rys, lat us speke of lusty lyf in Troye That we han lad, and forth the tyme dryve ”

“ This sely Troilus was wo! 530 Him thoughte his sorweful herte braste a-two. For whan he saugh hir dores sperred alle, Wel neigh for sorwe a-doun he gan to falle. Therwith, whan he was war and gan biholde How shet was every windowe of the place, 535 As frost, him thoughte, his herte gan to colde; For which with chaunged deedlich pale face, With-outen word, he forth bigan to pace; And, as god wolde, he gan so faste ryde, That no wight of his contenance aspyde. ”

“ For he that nought nassayeth, nought nacheveth.' 785 Yet seide he to him-self upon a night, `Now am I not a fool, that woot wel how Hir wo for love is of another wight, And here-up-on to goon assaye hir now? I may wel wite, it nil not been my prow. 790 For wyse folk in bokes it expresse, "Men shal not wowe a wight in hevinesse." `But who-so mighte winnen swich a flour From him, for whom she morneth night and day, He mighte seyn, he were a conquerour.' 795 And right anoon, as he that bold was ay, Thoughte in his herte, `Happe how happe may, Al sholde I deye, I wole hir herte seche ”

“ And preyede hir, she wolde hir sorwe apese, And seyde, `Y-wis, we Grekes con have Ioye To honouren yow, as wel as folk of Troye.' 120 He seyde eek thus, `I woot, yow thinketh straunge, No wonder is, for it is to yow newe, Thaqueintaunce of these Troianis to chaunge, For folk of Grece, that ye never knewe. But wolde never god but-if as trewe 125 A Greek ye shulde among us alle finde As any Troian is, and eek as kinde. ”

“ Ne never-mo ne lakkede hir pitee; 825 Tendre-herted, slydinge of corage; But trewely, I can not telle hir age. And Troilus wel waxen was in highte, And complet formed by proporcioun So wel, that kinde it not amenden mighte; 830 Yong, fresshe, strong, and hardy as lyoun; Trewe as steel in ech condicioun; On of the beste enteched creature, That is, or shal, whyl that the world may dure. And certainly in storie it is y-founde, 835 That Troilus was never un-to no wight, As in his tyme, in no degree secounde In durring don that longeth to a knight. ”

“ How might a wight in torment and in drede And helelees, yow sende as yet gladnesse? I hertelees, I syke, I in distresse; 1595 Sin ye with me, nor I with yow may dele, Yow neither sende ich herte may nor hele. `Your lettres ful, the papir al y-pleynted, Conceyved hath myn hertes pietee; I have eek seyn with teres al depeynted 1600 Your lettre, and how that ye requeren me To come ayein, which yet ne may not be. But why, lest that this lettre founden were, No mencioun ne make I now, for fere. ”

“ Take every man now to his bokes hede; 1090 He shal no terme finden, out of drede. For though that he bigan to wowe hir sone, Er he hir wan, yet was ther more to done. Ne me ne list this sely womman chyde Ferther than the story wol devyse. 1095 Hir name, allas! Is publisshed so wyde, That for hir gilt it oughte y-noe suffyse. And if I mighte excuse hir any wyse, For she so sory was for hir untrouthe, Y-wis, I wolde excuse hir yet for routhe. 1100 This Troilus, as I biforn have told, Thus dryveth forth, as wel as he hath might. ”

“ As help me Pallas with hir heres clere, 1000 If that I sholde of any Greek han routhe, It sholde be your-selven, by my trouthe! `I sey not therfore that I wol yow love, Ne I sey not nay, but in conclusioun, I mene wel, by god that sit above:' -- 1005 And ther-with-al she caste hir eyen doun, And gan to syke, and seyde, `O Troye toun, Yet bidde I god, in quiete and in reste I may yow seen, or do myn herte breste.' But in effect, and shortly for to seye, 1010 This Diomede al freshly newe ayeyn Gan pressen on, and faste hir mercy preye ”

“ To Pandarus this Troilus tho seyde, `For ought I wot, bi-for noon, sikerly, In-to this toun ne comth nought here Criseyde. She hath y-now to done, hardily, 1125 To winnen from hir fader, so trowe I; Hir olde fader wol yet make hir dyne Er that she go; god yeve his herte pyne!' Pandare answerde, `It may wel be, certeyn; And for-thy lat us dyne, I thee biseche; 1130 And after noon than maystw thou come ayeyn.' And hoom they go, with-oute more speche; And comen ayein, but longe may they seche Er that they finde that they after cape; Fortune hem bothe thenketh for to Iape. ”

“ God woot, they take it wysly, faire and softe. For-why good hope halt up hir herte on-lofte, And for they can a tyme of sorwe endure; 350 As tyme hem hurt, a tyme doth hem cure. `So sholdestow endure, and late slyde The tyme, and fonde to ben glad and light. Ten dayes nis so longe not tabyde. And sin she thee to comen hath bihight, 355 She nil hir hestes breken for no wight. For dred thee not that she nil finden weye To come ayein, my lyf that dorste I leye. `Thy swevenes eek and al swich fantasye Dryf out, and lat hem faren to mischaunce ”

“ Nor in this world ther is non instrument Delicious, through wind, or touche, of corde, As fer as any wight hath ever y-went, 445 That tonge telle or herte may recorde, That at that feste it nas wel herd acorde; Ne of ladies eek so fayr a companye On daunce, er tho, was never y-seyn with ye. But what avayleth this to Troilus, 450 That for his sorwe no-thing of it roughte? For ever in oon his herte pietous Ful bisily Criseyde his lady soughte. On hir was ever al that his herte thoughte, Now this, now that, so faste imagininge, 455 That glade, y-wis, can him no festeyinge. ”

“ Eek greet effect men wryte in place lite. 1630 Thentente is al, and nought the lettres space; And fareth now wel, god have you in his grace! La vostre C.' This Troilus this lettre thoughte al straunge, Whan he it saugh, and sorwefully he sighte; Him thoughte it lyk a kalendes of chaunge; 1635 But fynally, he ful ne trowen mighte That she ne wolde him holden that she highte; For with ful yvel wil list him to leve That loveth wel, in swich cas, though him greve. But natheles, men seyn that, at the laste, 1640 For any thing, men shal the sothe see ”

“ And trewely, as men in bokes rede, 20 Men wiste never womman han the care, Ne was so looth out of a toun to fare. This Troilus, with-outen reed or lore, As man that hath his Ioyes eek forlore, Was waytinge on his lady ever-more 25 As she that was the soothfast crop and more Of al his lust, or Ioyes here-tofore. But Troilus, now farewel al thy Ioye, For shaltow never seen hir eft in Troye! Soth is, that whyl he bood in this manere, 30 He gan his wo ful manly for to hyde. ”

“ And, for the love of god, beth not my fo; 160 Al can I not to yow, my lady dere, Compleyne aright, for I am yet to lere. `And wondreth not, myn owene lady bright, Though that I speke of love to you thus blyve; For I have herd or this of many a wight, 165 Hath loved thing he never saugh his lyve. Eek I am not of power for to stryve Ayens the god of love, but him obeye I wol alwey, and mercy I yow preye. `Ther been so worthy knightes in this place, 170 And ye so fair, that everich of hem alle Wol peynen him to stonden in your grace. ”

“ Of which the sone of Tydeus took hede, As he that coude more than the crede 90 In swich a craft, and by the reyne hir hente; And Troilus to Troye homwarde he wente. This Diomede, that ladde hir by the brydel, Whan that he saw the folk of Troye aweye, Thoughte, `Al my labour shal not been on ydel, 95 If that I may, for somwhat shal I seye, For at the worste it may yet shorte our weye. I have herd seyd, eek tymes twyes twelve, "He is a fool that wol for-yete him-selve."' But natheles this thoughte he wel ynough, 100 `That certaynly I am aboute nought, If that I speke of love, or make it tough ”

“ For dredelees, it is nought worth the whyle. `The folk of Troye, as who seyth, alle and some In preson been, as ye your-selven see; 885 Nor thennes shal not oon on-lyve come For al the gold bitwixen sonne and see. Trusteth wel, and understondeth me. Ther shal not oon to mercy goon on-lyve, Al were he lord of worldes twyes fyve! 890 `Swich wreche on hem, for fecching of Eleyne, Ther shal be take, er that we hennes wende, That Manes, which that goddes ben of peyne, Shal been agast that Grekes wol hem shende. ”

“ But who may bet bigylen, yf him liste, Than he on whom men weneth best to triste? `What shal I doon, my Pandarus, allas! I fele now so sharpe a newe peyne, 1270 Sin that ther is no remedie in this cas, That bet were it I with myn hondes tweyne My-selven slow, than alwey thus to pleyne. For through my deeth my wo sholde han an ende, Ther every day with lyf my-self I shende.' 1275 Pandare answerde and seyde, `Allas the whyle That I was born; have I not seyd er this, That dremes many a maner man bigyle? And why? For folk expounden hem a-mis. ”

“ And al the night wepinge, allas! she lay. And thus despeired, out of alle cure, She ladde hir lyf, this woful creature. 715 Ful ofte a day she sighte eek for destresse, And in hir-self she wente ay portrayinge Of Troilus the grete worthinesse, And alle his goodly wordes recordinge Sin first that day hir love bigan to springe. 720 And thus she sette hir woful herte a-fyre Through remembraunce of that she gan desyre. In al this world ther nis so cruel herte That hir hadde herd compleynen in hir sorwe, That nolde han wopen for hir peynes smerte, 725 So tendrely she weep, bothe eve and morwe. ”

“ Archimori bustum sexto ludique leguntur; Dat Graios Thebes et vatem septimus vmbria; Octauo cecidit Tideus, spes, vita Pelasgia; Ypomedon nono moritur cum Parthonopeo; Fulmine percussus, decimo Capaneus superatur ”