Troilus and Criseyde Part 6

Criseyde, which that wel neigh starf for fere, So as she was the ferfulleste wight 450 That mighte be, and herde eek with hir ere, And saw the sorwful ernest of the knight, And in his preyere eek saw noon unright, And for the harm that mighte eek fallen more, She gan to rewe and dredde hir wonder sore; 455

And thoughte thus, 'Unhappes fallen thikke Alday for love, and in swich maner cas, As men ben cruel in hem-self and wikke; And if this man slee here him-self, allas!

In my presence, it wol be no solas. 460 What men wolde of hit deme I can nat seye; It nedeth me ful sleyly for to pleye.'

And with a sorwful syk she seyde thrye, 'A! Lord! What me is tid a sory chaunce!

For myn estat lyth in Iupartye, 465 And eek myn emes lyf lyth in balaunce; But nathelees, with G.o.ddes governaunce, I shal so doon, myn honour shal I kepe, And eek his lyf;' and stinte for to wepe.

'Of harmes two, the lesse is for to chese; 470 Yet have I lever maken him good chere In honour, than myn emes lyf to lese; Ye seyn, ye no-thing elles me requere?'

'No, wis,' quod he, 'myn owene nece dere.'

'Now wel,' quod she, 'and I wol doon my peyne; 475 I shal myn herte ayeins my l.u.s.t constreyne.

'But that I nil not holden him in honde, Ne love a man, ne can I not, ne may Ayeins my wil; but elles wol I fonde, Myn honour sauf, plese him fro day to day; 480 Ther-to nolde I nought ones have seyd nay, But that I dredde, as in my fantasye; But cesse cause, ay cesseth maladye.

'And here I make a protestacioun, That in this proces if ye depper go, 485 That certaynly, for no savacioun Of yow, though that ye sterve bothe two, Though al the world on o day be my fo, Ne shal I never on him han other routhe. --'

'I graunte wel,' quod Pandare, 'by my trouthe. 490

'But may I truste wel ther-to,' quod he, 'That of this thing that ye han hight me here, Ye wol it holden trewly un-to me?'

'Ye, doutelees,' quod she, 'myn uncle dere.'

'Ne that I shal han cause in this matere,' 495 Quod he, 'to pleyne, or after yow to preche?'

'Why, no, parde; what nedeth more speche?'

Tho fillen they in othere tales glade, Til at the laste, 'O good eem,' quod she tho, 'For love of G.o.d, which that us bothe made, 500 Tel me how first ye wisten of his wo: Wot noon of hit but ye?' He seyde, 'No.'

'Can he wel speke of love?' quod she, 'I preye, Tel me, for I the bet me shal purveye.'

Tho Pandarus a litel gan to smyle, 505 And seyde, 'By my trouthe, I shal yow telle.

This other day, nought gon ful longe whyle, In-with the paleys-gardyn, by a welle, Gan he and I wel half a day to dwelle, Right for to speken of an ordenaunce, 510 How we the Grekes myghte disavaunce.

'Sone after that bigonne we to lepe, And casten with our dartes to and fro, Til at the laste he seyde he wolde slepe, And on the gres a-doun he leyde him tho; 515 And I after gan rome to and fro Til that I herde, as that I welk allone, How he bigan ful wofully to grone.

'Tho gan I stalke him softely bihinde, And sikerly, the sothe for to seyne, 520 As I can clepe ayein now to my minde, Right thus to Love he gan him for to pleyne; He seyde, "Lord! Have routhe up-on my peyne, Al have I been rebel in myn entente; Now, MEA CULPA, lord! I me repente. 525

'"O G.o.d, that at thy disposicioun Ledest the fyn by Iuste purveyaunce, Of every wight, my lowe confessioun Accepte in gree, and send me swich penaunce As lyketh thee, but from desesperaunce, 530 That may my goost departe awey fro thee, Thou be my sheld, for thy benignitee.

'"For certes, lord, so soore hath she me wounded, That stod in blak, with loking of hir yen, That to myn hertes botme it is y-sounded, 535 Thorugh which I woot that I mot nedes dyen; This is the worste, I dar me not bi-wryen; And wel the hotter been the gledes rede, That men hem wryen with a.s.shen pale and dede."

'With that he smoot his heed adoun anoon, 540 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 hadde I, And come ayein anoon and stood him by, And seyde, "A-wake, ye slepen al to longe; 545 It semeth nat that love dooth yow longe,

'"That slepen so that no man may yow wake.

Who sey ever or this so dul a man?"

"Ye, freend," quod he, "do ye your hedes ake For love, and lat me liven as I can." 550 But though that he for wo was pale and wan, Yet made he tho as freshe a countenaunce As though he shulde have led the newe daunce.

'This pa.s.sed forth, til now, this other day, It fel that I com roming al allone 555 Into his chaumbre, and fond how that he lay Up-on his bed; but man so sore grone Ne herde I never, and what that was his mone, Ne wist I nought; for, as I was cominge, Al sodeynly he lefte his compleyninge. 560

'Of which I took somwat suspecioun, And neer I com, and fond he wepte sore; And G.o.d so wis be my savacioun, As never of thing hadde I no routhe more.

For neither with engyn, ne with no lore, 565 Unethes mighte I fro the deeth him kepe; That yet fele I myn herte for him wepe.

'And G.o.d wot, never, sith that I was born, Was I so bisy no man for to preche, Ne never was to wight so depe y-sworn, 570 Or he me tolde who mighte been his leche.

But now to yow rehersen al his speche, Or alle his woful wordes for to soune, Ne bid me not, but ye wol see me swowne.

'But for to save his lyf, and elles nought, 575 And to non harm of yow, thus am I driven; And for the love of G.o.d that us hath wrought, Swich chere him dooth, that he and I may liven.

Now have I plat to yow myn herte shriven; And sin ye woot that myn entente is clene, 580 Tak hede ther-of, for I non yvel mene.

'And right good thrift, I prey to G.o.d, have ye, That han swich oon y-caught with-oute net; And be ye wys, as ye ben fair to see, Wel in the ring than is the ruby set. 585 Ther were never two so wel y-met, Whan ye ben his al hool, as he is youre: Ther mighty G.o.d yet graunte us see that houre!'

'Nay, therof spak I not, a, ha!' quod she, 'As helpe me G.o.d, ye shenden every deel!' 590 'O mercy, dere nece,' anoon quod he, 'What-so I spak, I mente nought but weel, By Mars the G.o.d, that helmed is of steel; Now beth nought wrooth, my blood, my nece dere.'

'Now wel,' quod she, 'foryeven be it here!' 595

With this he took his leve, and hoom he wente; And lord, he was glad and wel bigoon!

Criseyde aroos, no lenger she ne stente, But straught in-to hir closet wente anoon, And sette here doun as stille as any stoon, 600 And every word gan up and doun to winde, That he hadde seyd, as it com hir to minde;

And wex somdel astonied in hir thought, Right for the newe cas; but whan that she Was ful avysed, tho fond she right nought 605 Of peril, why she oughte afered be.

For man may love, of possibilitee, A womman so, his herte may to-breste, And she nought love ayein, but-if hir leste.

But as she sat allone and thoughte thus, 610 Thascry aroos at skarmish al with-oute, And men cryde in the strete, 'See, Troilus Hath right now put to flight the Grekes route!'

With that gan al hir meynee for to shoute, 'A! Go we see, caste up the latis wyde; 615 For thurgh this strete he moot to palays ryde;

'For other wey is fro the yate noon Of Darda.n.u.s, ther open is the cheyne.'

With that com he and al his folk anoon An esy pas rydinge, in routes tweyne, 620 Right as his happy day was, sooth to seyne, For which, men say, may nought disturbed be That shal bityden of necessitee.

This Troilus sat on his baye stede, Al armed, save his heed, ful richely, 625 And wounded was his hors, and gan to blede, On whiche he rood a pas, ful softely; But swych a knightly sighte, trewely, As was on him, was nought, with-outen faile, To loke on Mars, that G.o.d is of batayle. 630

So lyk a man of armes and a knight He was to seen, fulfild of heigh prowesse; For bothe he hadde a body and a might To doon that thing, as wel as hardinesse; And eek to seen him in his gere him dresse, 635 So fresh, so yong, so weldy semed he, It was an heven up-on him for to see.

His helm to-hewen was in twenty places, That by a tissew heng, his bak bihinde, His sheld to-da.s.shed was with swerdes and maces, 640 In which men mighte many an arwe finde That thirled hadde horn and nerf and rinde; And ay the peple cryde, 'Here cometh our Ioye, And, next his brother, holdere up of Troye!'

For which he wex a litel reed for shame, 645 Whan he the peple up-on him herde cryen, That to biholde it was a n.o.ble game, How sobreliche he caste doun his yen.

Cryseyda gan al his chere aspyen, And leet so softe it in hir herte sinke, 650 That to hir-self she seyde, 'Who yaf me drinke?'

For of hir owene thought she wex al reed, Remembringe hir right thus, 'Lo, this is he Which that myn uncle swereth he moot be deed, But I on him have mercy and pitee;' 655 And with that thought, for pure a-shamed, she Gan in hir heed to pulle, and that as faste, Whyl he and al the peple for-by paste,

And gan to caste and rollen up and doun With-inne hir thought his excellent prowesse, 660 And his estat, and also his renoun, His wit, his shap, and eek his gentillesse; But most hir favour was, for his distresse Was al for hir, and thoughte it was a routhe To sleen swich oon, if that he mente trouthe. 665

Now mighte som envyous Iangle thus, 'This was a sodeyn love; how mighte it be That she so lightly lovede Troilus Right for the firste sighte; ye, pardee?'

Now who-so seyth so, mote he never thee! 670 For every thing, a ginning hath it nede Er al be wrought, with-outen any drede.

For I sey nought that she so sodeynly Yaf him hir love, but that she gan enclyne To lyke him first, and I have told yow why; 675 And after that, his manhod and his pyne Made love with-inne hir for to myne, For which, by proces and by good servyse, He gat hir love, and in no sodeyn wyse.

And also blisful Venus, wel arayed, 680 Sat in hir seventhe hous of hevene tho, Disposed wel, and with aspectes payed, To helpen sely Troilus of his wo.

And, sooth to seyn, she nas not al a fo To Troilus in his nativitee; 685 G.o.d woot that wel the soner spedde he.

Now lat us stinte of Troilus a throwe, That rydeth forth, and lat us tourne faste Un-to Criseyde, that heng hir heed ful lowe, Ther-as she sat allone, and gan to caste 690 Wher-on she wolde apoynte hir at the laste, If it so were hir eem ne wolde cesse, For Troilus, up-on hir for to presse.

And, lord! So she gan in hir thought argue In this matere of which I have yow told, 695 And what to doon best were, and what eschue, That plyted she ful ofte in many fold.

Now was hir herte warm, now was it cold, And what she thoughte somwhat shal I wryte, As to myn auctor listeth for to endyte. 700

She thoughte wel that Troilus persone She knew by sighte and eek his gentillesse, And thus she seyde, 'Al were it nought to done, To graunte him love, yet, for his worthinesse, It were honour, with pley and with gladnesse, 705 In honestee, with swich a lord to dele, For myn estat, and also for his hele.

'Eek, wel wot I my kinges sone is he; And sith he hath to see me swich delyt, If I wolde utterly his sighte flee, 710 Peraunter he mighte have me in dispyt, Thurgh which I mighte stonde in worse plyt; Now were I wys, me hate to purchace, With-outen nede, ther I may stonde in grace?