Troilus and Criseyde Part 23

So bittre teres weep nought, as I finde, The woful Myrra through the bark and rinde.

That in this world ther nis so hard an herte, 1140 That nolde han rewed on hir peynes smerte.

But whan hir woful wery gostes tweyne Retorned been ther-as hem oughte dwelle, And that som-what to wayken gan the peyne By lengthe of pleynte, and ebben gan the welle 1145 Of hire teres, and the herte unswelle, With broken voys, al hoors for-shright, Criseyde To Troilus thise ilke wordes seyde:

'O Iove, I deye, and mercy I beseche!

Help, Troilus!' And ther-with-al hir face 1150 Upon his brest she leyde, and loste speche; Hir woful spirit from his propre place, Right with the word, alwey up poynt to pace.

And thus she lyth with hewes pale and grene, That whylom fresh and fairest was to sene. 1155

This Troilus, that on hir gan biholde, Clepinge hir name, (and she lay as for deed, With-oute answere, and felte hir limes colde, Hir eyen throwen upward to hir heed), This sorwful man can now noon other reed, 1160 But ofte tyme hir colde mouth he kiste; Wher him was wo, G.o.d and him-self it wiste!

He rist him up, and long streight he hir leyde; For signe of lyf, for ought he can or may, Can he noon finde in no-thing on Criseyde, 1165 For which his song ful ofte is 'weylaway!'

But whan he saugh that specheles she lay, With sorwful voys and herte of blisse al bare, He seyde how she was fro this world y-fare!

So after that he longe hadde hir compleyned, 1170 His hondes wrong, and seyde that was to seye, And with his teres salte hir brest bireyned, He gan tho teris wypen of ful dreye, And pitously gan for the soule preye, And seyde, 'O lord, that set art in thy trone, 1175 Rewe eek on me, for I shal folwe hir sone!'

She cold was and with-outen sentement, For aught he woot, for breeth ne felte he noon; And this was him a preignant argument That she was forth out of this world agoon; 1180 And whan he seigh ther was non other woon, He gan hir limes dresse in swich manere As men don hem that shul be leyd on bere.

And after this, with sterne and cruel herte, His swerd a-noon out of his shethe he twighte, 1185 Him-self to sleen, how sore that him smerte, So that his sowle hir sowle folwen mighte, Ther-as the doom of Mynos wolde it dighte; Sin love and cruel Fortune it ne wolde, That in this world he lenger liven sholde. 1190

Thanne seyde he thus, fulfild of heigh desdayn, 'O cruel Iove, and thou, Fortune adverse, This al and som, that falsly have ye slayn Criseyde, and sin ye may do me no werse, Fy on your might and werkes so diverse! 1195 Thus cowardly ye shul me never winne; Ther shal no deeth me fro my lady twinne.

'For I this world, sin ye han slayn hir thus, Wol lete, and folowe hir spirit lowe or hye; Shal never lover seyn that Troilus 1200 Dar not, for fere, with his lady dye; For certeyn, I wol bere hir companye.

But sin ye wol not suffre us liven here, Yet suffreth that our soules ben y-fere.

'And thou, citee, whiche that I leve in wo, 1205 And thou, Pryam, and bretheren al y-fere, And thou, my moder, farwel! For I go; And Attropos, make redy thou my bere!

And thou, Criseyde, o swete herte dere, Receyve now my spirit!' wolde he seye, 1210 With swerd at herte, al redy for to deye

But as G.o.d wolde, of swough ther-with she abreyde, And gan to syke, and 'Troilus' she cryde; And he answerde, 'Lady myn Criseyde, Live ye yet?' and leet his swerd doun glyde. 1215 'Ye, herte myn, that thanked be Cupyde!'

Quod she, and ther-with-al she sore sighte; And he bigan to glade hir as he mighte;

Took hir in armes two, and kiste hir ofte, And hir to glade he dide al his entente; 1220 For which hir goost, that flikered ay on-lofte, In-to hir woful herte ayein it wente.

But at the laste, as that hir eyen glente A-syde, anoon she gan his swerd aspye, As it lay bare, and gan for fere crye, 1225

And asked him, why he it hadde out-drawe?

And Troilus anoon the cause hir tolde, And how himself ther-with he wolde have slawe.

For which Criseyde up-on him gan biholde, And gan him in hir armes faste folde, 1230 And seyde, 'O mercy, G.o.d, lo, which a dede!

Allas! How neigh we were bothe dede!

'Thanne if I ne hadde spoken, as grace was, Ye wolde han slayn your-self anoon?' quod she.

'Ye, douteless;' and she answerde, 'Allas! 1235 For, by that ilke lord that made me, I nolde a forlong wey on-lyve han be, After your deeth, to han been crouned quene Of al the lond the sonne on shyneth shene.

'But with this selve swerd, which that here is, 1240 My-selve I wolde han slayn!' -- quod she tho; 'But ho, for we han right y-now of this, And late us ryse and streight to bedde go And there lat ys speken of oure wo.

For, by the morter which that I see brenne, 1245 Knowe I ful wel that day is not fer henne.'

Whan they were in hir bedde, in armes folde, Nought was it lyk tho nightes here-biforn; For pitously ech other gan biholde, As they that hadden al hir blisse y-lorn, 1250 Biwaylinge ay the day that they were born.

Til at the last this sorwful wight Criseyde To Troilus these ilke wordes seyde: --

'Lo, herte myn, wel wot ye this,' quod she, 'That if a wight alwey his wo compleyne, 1255 And seketh nought how holpen for to be, It nis but folye and encrees of peyne; And sin that here a.s.sembled be we tweyne To finde bote of wo that we ben inne, It were al tyme sone to biginne. 1260

'I am a womman, as ful wel ye woot, And as I am avysed sodeynly, So wol I telle yow, whyl it is hoot.

Me thinketh thus, that nouther ye nor I Oughte half this wo to make skilfully. 1265 For there is art y-now for to redresse That yet is mis, and sleen this hevinesse.

'Sooth is, the wo, the whiche that we ben inne, For ought I woot, for no-thing elles is But for the cause that we sholden twinne. 1270 Considered al, ther nis no-more amis.

But what is thanne a remede un-to this, But that we shape us sone for to mete?

This al and som, my dere herte swete.

'Now that I shal wel bringen it aboute 1275 To come ayein, sone after that I go, Ther-of am I no maner thing in doute.

For dredeles, with-inne a wouke or two, I shal ben here; and, that it may be so By alle right, and in a wordes fewe, 1280 I shal yow wel an heep of weyes shewe.

'For which I wol not make long sermoun, For tyme y-lost may not recovered be; But I wol gon to my conclusioun, And to the beste, in ought that I can see. 1285 And, for the love of G.o.d, for-yeve it me If I speke ought ayein your hertes reste; For trewely, I speke it for the beste;

'Makinge alwey a protestacioun, That now these wordes, whiche that I shal seye, 1290 Nis but to shewe yow my mocioun, To finde un-to our helpe the beste weye; And taketh it non other wyse, I preye.

For in effect what-so ye me comaunde, That wol I doon, for that is no demaunde. 1295

'Now herkneth this, ye han wel understonde, My goinge graunted is by parlement So ferforth, that it may not be with-stonde For al this world, as by my Iugement.

And sin ther helpeth noon avys.e.m.e.nt 1300 To letten it, lat it pa.s.se out of minde; And lat us shape a bettre wey to finde.

'The sothe is, that the twinninge of us tweyne Wol us disese and cruelliche anoye.

But him bihoveth som-tyme han a peyne, 1305 That serveth love, if that he wol have Ioye.

And sin I shal no ferthere out of Troye Than I may ryde ayein on half a morwe, It oughte lesse causen us to sorwe.

'So as I shal not so ben hid in muwe, 1310 That day by day, myn owene herte dere, Sin wel ye woot that it is now a trewe, Ye shal ful wel al myn estat y-here.

And er that truwe is doon, I shal ben here, And thanne have ye bothe Antenor y-wonne 1315 And me also; beth glad now, if ye conne;

'And thenk right thus, "Criseyde is now agoon, But what! She shal come hastely ayeyn;"

And whanne, allas? By G.o.d, lo, right anoon, Er dayes ten, this dar I saufly seyn. 1320 And thanne at erste shul we been so fayn, So as we shulle to-gederes ever dwelle, That al this world ne mighte our blisse telle.

'I see that ofte, ther-as we ben now, That for the beste, our counseil for to hyde, 1325 Ye speke not with me, nor I with yow In fourtenight; ne see yow go ne ryde.

May ye not ten dayes thanne abyde, For myn honour, in swich an aventure?

Y-wis, ye mowen elles lite endure! 1330

'Ye knowe eek how that al my kin is here, But-if that onliche it my fader be; And eek myn othere thinges alle y-fere, And nameliche, my dere herte, ye, Whom that I nolde leven for to see 1335 For al this world, as wyd as it hath s.p.a.ce; Or elles, see ich never Ioves face!

'Why trowe ye my fader in this wyse Coveiteth so to see me, but for drede Lest in this toun that folkes me dispyse 1340 By-cause of him, for his unhappy dede?

What woot my fader what lyf that I lede?

For if he wiste in Troye how wel I fare, Us neded for my wending nought to care.

'Ye seen that every day eek, more and more, 1345 Men trete of pees; and it supposed is, That men the quene Eleyne shal restore, And Grekes us restore that is mis.

So though ther nere comfort noon but this, That men purposen pees on every syde, 1350 Ye may the bettre at ese of herte abyde.

'For if that it be pees, myn herte dere, The nature of the pees mot nedes dryve That men moste entrecomunen y-fere, And to and fro eek ryde and gon as blyve 1355 Alday as thikke as been flen from an hyve; And every wight han libertee to bleve Where-as him list the bet, with-outen leve.

'And though so be that pees ther may be noon, Yet hider, though ther never pees ne were, 1360 I moste come; for whider sholde I goon, Or how mischaunce sholde I dwelle there Among tho men of armes ever in fere?

For which, as wisly G.o.d my soule rede, I can not seen wher-of ye sholden drede. 1365

'Have here another wey, if it so be That al this thing ne may yow not suffyse.

My fader, as ye knowen wel, pardee, Is old, and elde is ful of coveityse, And I right now have founden al the gyse, 1370 With-oute net, wher-with I shal him hente; And herkeneth how, if that ye wole a.s.sente.

'Lo, Troilus, men seyn that hard it is The wolf ful, and the wether hool to have; This is to seyn, that men ful ofte, y-wis, 1375 Mot spenden part, the remenant for to save.