wyth a sigh she sayd hym at the laste Now vncle myn I wyl you not dysple ase Ne axe thyng that may do you dysease So aftir thys wyth many wordis glade And frendly talis and wyth mery chere Of thys and that they gonne pley and wade In many vncowth glad and deepe matere As frendis don whan they ben met in feere Tyl she gan aske hym how that Hector ferde That was the wal of Troye and greekis yerde Ful wel I thank it god quod Pandarus Saue in hys arme he hath a lytel wounde And eke hys fressh brothyr Troylus The wyse worthy Hector the secunde In whom that euery vertu lyst habounde As al trowth and al gentylnesse Wysdom honour fredom and worthynesse In good feyth Eme quod she that lykith me They faren wel god saue hem both two For trewly I hold it grete deynte A kynges sone in armes wel to do And be of good condicions therto For grete power and moral vertu here Is selden seen in oo persone y feere In good feyth that is sooth quod Pandarus But by my trouth the kyng hath sones twey That is to saye Hector and Troylus That certaynly though that I shuld deye They ben vs voyde of vyces dar I sey As any men that lyuen vndir the sonne Theyr myght is wide knoweÌ„ what they koÌ„ne Of Hector nedyth nothyng for to telle In al thys world ther nys a bettir knyght Than he that is of worthynesse welle And he wel more vertu hath than myght Thys knowith many a wyse worthy knyght The same pryce of Troylus I sey God help me soo I know not suche twey By god quod she of Hector that is sooth Of Troylus the same thyng trowe I For dredeles men tellith that he doeth In armes daye by daye and that so worthyly And berith hym here at hom so gentylly To euery wyght that oueral pryce hath he Of hem that were me leuest praysed be Ye sey ryght soth ywis quod Pandarus For yesterdaye who hath wyth hym ben Myght haue woundred vpon Troylus For neuer yit so thyk a swarm of leen As than the Grekis from hym gan fleen And thurgh the feld in euery wyghtis eue Ther nas no cry but Troylus is there Now here now there he hunted hem so faste Ther nas but Grekis bloode and Troylus Now hym he hurt and now hym doun he caste Ay where he went it was arayeed thus He was theyr deth and sheld and lyf for vs That as that day ther durst none wythstonde Whyle he held hys blody swerd in hond Therto he is the frendelyest man Of grete estate that euer I sawe in my fyne And where hym lyst best felawshyp can To suche as hym thynkyth able for to thryue And wyth that word tho Pandarus as blyue Toke of theym leue said he wold gon henne Nay blame haue I myn vncle quod she thenne Whot eyleth yow to be thus wery soone And namely of wymmen wil ye so Nay sittyth doun by god I haue to doone Wyth yow to speke of wysdom or ye go And euery wyght that was aboute hem tho That herd that gan for awey to stonde Whyle they two had al that hem leâ—t on honde Whan that hyr tale brought was to an end Of hyr estate and hyr gouernaunce Quod Pandarus now is tyme I wend But now I sey aryse and lete vs daunce And caste your wydewes habyte to myschauÌ„ce What lyst yow thus your self to dyffygure Syth yow is betid so glad an auenture A wel bythought for loue of god quod she Shal I not wyte what ye meane of thys No thys thyng askyth leyser quod he And eke me wold moche greue ywys Yf I it told and ye toke it amys Yit were it bet my tung for to stylle Than sey a thyng that were agayn your â—ille For nece by the goddesse Minerue And Iubiter that makyth the thunder to ryng And by the blysful Venus that I serue Ye be the womman in thys world lyuyng Wythout peramours to my wytyng That I best loue and bothest am to greue And that ye wyten wel your self I leeue Ywis myn vncle quod she grantmercy Your frendshyp haue I founden euer yit I am to noman holden trewly So moche as you and haue so lytyl quyt And wyth grace of god wyth my ful wyt As in my gylt I shal you neuer offende And yf I haue or thys I wyl amende Bâ—th not agast ne quakyth not wherto Ne chaungyth not for fere so youre hewe For hardily the worst of thys is do And though my tale be now as to yow newe Yit trust alway ye shuld fynd me trewe And were it thyng me thought vnsittyng To yow wold I no suche talis bryng Now my good Eame for goddis loue I prey Quod she come of and telle me what it is For both I am agast what ye wyl sey And eke me longyth to wyte ywis For whether it be wel or be amys Sey and late me not in thys fere dwelle So wyl I do now herkyn I shal telle Now nece myn the kynges deâ—e sone The good wyse worthy fressh and fre Whyche alway for to do wel is hys wone The noble Troylus so loueth the That but ye help it wyl hys baane be Lo here is al what shuld I more seye Do what ye lyst make hym lyue on deye And yf ye lete hym deye I wyl steruen Haue here my trowth nyl I not lyen Al shuld I wyth thys â—â—â—yf my throte â—eruen Wyth that trene brost out of hys eyen And sayd yf that ye do vs both dyen What mene ye though we bothe apayre Thus gylilis than loue ye fysstred fayre Alas be whyche 〈◊〉 my lord so dere That crew man that noble knyght That nought desâ—â—eth but yowre frendly chere I see hym deye ther he goeth vpright And baseyth hym wyth al hys ful myght For to be slayne yf hys fortune assent Alas that god suche a beaute you sent Yf it be so ye so cruel be That of hys deth ye list not to retche That is so trewe and worthy as we see Nomore than of a Iaper or of a wretche Yf ye be suche yowre beawte may not sâ—retch To make amendes of so cruel a dede Auysement is good byfore the neede Wo worth the fayre Gemme vertules Wo worth that herke that doeth no bote Wo worth that beaute that is rowthles Wo worth that wyght that eche tret vndirfoote And ye that be of beaute crop and roote Yf that wythal in yow be no rowth Than is it harm ye lyuen by me trouth And also thynk wel that thys is no gawde For me were leuer yow and I and he Were banged than I shuld be hys bawde As hye as any man myght on vs see I am thyn Eame the shame were to me As wel as thyn yf that I shuld assent Thurgh my counsayl that he thyn honour shent Now vnderstonde for I not requere To bynd yow to hym by no
that yâ— dretche But of my dâ—th though lytel be to retche Yet or that ye causen me so to smert Dwelle here rather myn owne dere hâ—rt For trewely myn owne lady dere The sleyghâ—es that I haue herd yow 〈◊〉 Ful shaply be to fallen al in fere For soth is sayd what thynketh the bere Yet al another thynketh his lederâ— Youre fader is wyse sayde is oute of deede Men may the wyse at â—enne but not at rede It is ful hard to halten vnaspyed Byfore a Crepul for he can the craft Youre fader is in sloyghtes as argus is eyed For al be that his meoble be hym becaft His old sleyghâ—rs yet ben with hym laft Ye shal not blynde hym for youre womanâ—â—de Ne feyne a ryght that is al my drede I note yf pees shal euermo â—etyde But pees oâ— no for ernest ne for game I wote syth 〈◊〉 on the grekys syde Hath ones ben and 〈◊〉 so foule his name He dare nomore come here ageyne for shame For whiche that â—ey for ought I can espyâ— To trust vpon nys but a fantasye Ye shal eke see your fader shal yow glose To be a wyf as he can wel preche He shal som greke so preyse so hye a lose That rauysshen he shal yow with his speche Or doo yow doo by force as he shal teche And Troylus of whome he nyl haue routhe So causeles shal sterue in his trouthe And ouer al this youre fader shal despyse â—s all and sey this Cytte nys but born And that the syege neuer shal aryse For why the grekes hane it al y sworn Tyl we ben slayn doune oure wallys torn And thus he shal yow with his wordes fere That ay drede I ye shal byleue there Ye shal eke see soo many a lusty â—nyght Among the grekes ful of worthynesse And eche of theym with hert wyt myght To plese yow wyl doo al theyr â—esynesse That ye shal dulle of the râ—denesse Of vs Cely Troâ—aueâ— but yf that roâ—â—he RemÌ„orde yow of vertu of youre trouthe And thus to me so greuous is to thynke That fro my brest it wyl my sowle rende Ne dredeles in me there can not synke A good oppynyon yf that ye wende For why youre faders sleyghâ—es wyl vs sheÌ„de And yf ye gone as I haue told yow yore So thynk I nam but deede withouten more For whiche with humble trewe pytous hert A thowsand tymes mercy I yow prey Soo rewyth vppon myn aspye peynes smert And doeth somwhat as I shal yow sey And lete vs stele awey bytwene vs twey And thynk that foly is when a man may chese For accydent his substaunce ay to leese I mene thus that syth ye mowe no day We le stele awey and be togyder soo What were it to put in assay In caas ye shold vnto yowr fader go If that ye myght come ageyne or no Thus thynketh me it were a grete foly To put that sykernes in to ieopardye And wulgarly to speke of substaunce Of tresoure may we both with vs lede Ynough to lyue in honoure plesaunce Tyl in to tyme that we shal be deede And thus we may eschewe al this drede For euery other wey ye can recorde Myn herte ywys may therwith not acorde And hardely ne caryth no pouert For I haue kyn frendes elles where That though we come in oure bare shert Vs shold neyther last gold ne gere But ben honoured whyle we dwellen there And go we anone for after myn entent This is the best yf that ye wyl assent Creseyde hym with a syke ryght in this wyse Ansuerd ywys my dere hert trewe We may wele aweye as ye deuyse Or fynde suche vnthryfty weyes newe But afterward ful soone it wold vs rewe As help me god at my last nede Al causeles ye suffre al this drede For thylk day that I for cherysshyng Or drede of fader or of other wyght Or for estate delyte or for weddyng Be fals to yow my Troylus my knyght Saturnus doughter Iuno thurgh her myght As woode as Adamaunt doo me dwelle Eternally with styx in the pyt of helle And this on euery god celestyal I swere it yow and eke on eche goddesse On euery nymphe deyte infernal On Satyry and Fauny more lesse That half goddes ben of wyldernesse And Antropos my threde of lyf to brest If I be fals now trowe me yf ye lest And thow Synoys that as an arewe clore Thurgh Troye rennest dounward to the see Bere wytnesse of this word that sayde is here That ylke day that I vntrewe be To Troylus myn owne hert fre That thou retorne backward to thy welle And I with body sowle synke to helle But that ye speke awey thus for to goo And leue al yowre frendes god forbede For ony woman that ye holden so And namely syth Troye hath now suche nede Of help eke of one thyng taketh hede If this were wyst my lyf lay in balaunce And your honour god shyeld vs froÌ„ myschaÌ„ce And yf soo be that pees herafter take As al day happyth after angyr game What lord the sorowe woo ye wold make That ye ne durst come ageyne for shame And er that ye ieopart soo youre name Be not to hasty in this old fare For hasty man wantyth neuer care What trowe ye eke that peple here aboute Wold of it say it is ful lyght to rede They wol sey swere it oute of doute That loue ne droue yow to do that dede But lust voluptuous coward drede Thus were al lost ywys myn hert dere Youre honoure whiche that now shyneth so clere And also thynketh on myn honeste That flowryth yet how foule shold I it shende And with what fylth it spottyd shold be If in this forme with yow I shold wende Ne though I lyued vnto the worldys ende My name shold I neuer ageynward wynne Thus were I lost that were rowthe synne And for to slee with reason al this hete Men seyn the suffâ—aunt ouercomyth parde Also who wol haue lyef lyef more lete Thus maketh vâ—rtu of necessyre By pacyenâ—e thynk that lord â—o he By fortune ay that wyl not retche And she ne dauntâ—th but a wretche And truseyth this that certrs hert swete Or Phebus sufâ—er Lucyna the sheene The lyon passe oute of this Aryeâ—e I wyl be here withoute ony wene I wene as helpe me Iuno heuenes quene The â—enthe day but yf that deth maâ—ayle I wyl yow seen withoute ony fayle And now so this be trewe quod Troylus I shal wele suffre vnto the tenthe day Syth that I see nede it mote be thus But for the loue of god yf it be may Soo lete vs stele pryuely away For euer in one as for to lyue in rest Myn hert seyth that it wold be the best O mercy god what lyf is this quod she Alas ye sâ—e me thus with veray tene I see wele now that ye
yf ought amye me stert So yâ—ue it me myn owne swete hert 〈…〉 curst or ought of ryght 〈…〉 lady pytously compleyne 〈…〉 that I ought be that wyght 〈…〉 this that ye these monthes tweyn Haue taryed their ye seyde soothe to seyne But 〈…〉 ye nold in hoost sorourne But 〈◊〉 two monethes yet ye not 〈◊〉 But 〈…〉 moche as I moâ—e nedes lyke Al that yow lyketh I dare pleyne no more But 〈◊〉 wyth sorowful syghte syke Yow wryâ—â— I myn vnirsty sorowee sore From day to day desyryng euermore To knowe fully yf yowre wylle were How ye hane feid and deo whyle ye be there Who 's welfare and helâ— god eke encrease In honoure suche as vpward in degre It growe alwey so that it neuer cease Lyke as youre self 〈◊〉 can my lâ—dy fre Deuyse I pray 〈◊〉 god so more it be And graunt that 〈◊〉 â—oone vpon me 〈◊〉 As wysly as in al I am youre trewe And yf yow lyke to knowe of the fare Of me whos woo ther may no wyght deseriue I can no moâ—e but 〈◊〉 of â—â—ery care At wrytyng of 〈…〉 I was alyue Al redy cute my woful goosâ— to dryue Whiche I delay and hold hym yet in hond Vpon the syght of matâ—re of youre sond Myn eyen twoo in veyne with whiche I see Of woful teres salt arn woxen welles My songe in playnt of myn aduersyte My good in harme myn ease woxen helle is My ioye in woo I can yow seye not elles 〈◊〉 turned is for whiche my lyf I wary Euery ioye is torned to me contrary Whiche with your comyng home ageyn to Troye Ye may redresse and more a thowsand sythe Than euer I had encrecyng in me ioye 〈◊〉 was there neuer herte yet so blythe 〈◊〉 haue his lyf as I shold be as swythe As I yow see â— though no manere routhe 〈◊〉 mene yet thynke vpon yowre trouthe And yf so moche my deth I haue deserued Or yf yow lyst no more vpon me see In guerdon yet of al I haue yow serued 〈◊〉 I yow my hertes lady free That heruppn ye wyl wryte me For loue of god my ryght loode sterre Or dâ—the lete make an ende of al my werre â— there cause ought that doth yow for to duelle That with youre letter ye me recomforte For though to me youre absence be an helle With pacyence I wyl my wo supporte And with your letter of hore I wyl dysporte Now wryteth swete â— leâ—â— me thus not pleyne With hoope or â—â—th delyuere me from peyne Ywys myn owne dere herte trewe I wote than whan ye next vpon me see Soo bost haue I myn helthe eke myn hewe Creseyde shal not conne knowe me Iwys myn hertes day my lady free Soo thurstyth ay myn herte to byhold Youre beaute that my lyf vnnethe I hold I say nomore al haue I for to seye To yow wel more than I telle may But whether ye done me lyue or deye Yet pray I god so yeue yow ryght good day And faryth we le ryght fayre fresshe may As ye thal lyf or deth may me comaunde And to youre trouthe I me recomaunde With helthe suche that but yf ye yeue me The same helthe I shal neuer helthe haue In yow lyeth when yow lyst it so shal be The day on whiche me clothen shal my graue In yow my lyf youre myght is it to saue Me from dysese of al peynes smerte And fâ—re now wele myn owne swete herte This letter forth was sent vnto Creseyde Of whiche hyr answer in effect was this Ful pytously she wrote ageyne and seyde That as soone as euer she myght ywys She wold come and mende that was amys And fynally wrote sayd hym than She wold come but she wyst neuer whan But in her letter she made suche feestes That wonder was swore she louyd hym best Of whiche he fond but bottumles byhestes But Troylus thow mayst now Est or west Pype in an yuy leef yf that the lest Thus goth the world god sheld vs froÌ„ myschaÌ„ce And euery wyght that meneth trouthe auanÌ„ce Encreasen gan the woo from day to nyght Of Troylus for taryeng of Creseyde And lassen gan his hope eke his myght For whiche al doune vdon his bed hym leyde He ne ete ne drank ne slepe ne no word seyde Ymagynyng ay that she was vnkynde For whiche wel nyhe he wax oute of mynde This dreme of whiche I told haue here byforn May neuer come oute of his remembraunce He thought as we le he had his lady born And that Iouys of his purueaunce Hym shewyd had in slope the sygnyfyaunce Of hyr vntrouthe dysauenture And that this was shewyd hym in fygure For whiche he for Syble his suster sente That callyd was Cassandra eke al aboute And al his dreme he told hyr or he wente And hyr bysought assoylen hym the doute Of this strong bore with tuskys stoute And fynally within a lytel stounde Cassandra ryght thus his dreme expound She gan fyrst smyle sayd broder dere If thow a sothe of this desyrest to knowe Thow must a fewe of old storyes here To purpoos how that fortune ouerthrowe Hath lordes hye whiche within a throwe This bore shalt thou know wel of what kynd He comyn is as men in bookes fynd Dyane whiche that wrothe was in yre For grekes nold doo hyr sacryfyce Ne encens on hyr aulter set a fyre She for that grekes gan hyr despyse Wroke hyr in a wonder cruel wyse For with a bore as grete as Oxe in stalle She made hym etâ— vp hyr corne vpnes alle To slee this bore was all the countre reysed Amonges whiche there come this bore to see A mayde one of this world best y preysed And Meleager lord of that countre He louyd soo this fresshe mayde free That with his manhood or he wold stent This bore he slowe and hyr the heede he sent Of whiche as old â—okes tellen vs There roos a â—ontek â—a grete enuye And of this lord desâ—endyd Tydeus By lyne or esses old bookes lye But how this Meleager gan for to dye Thorugh his moder wyl I yow not â—â—lle For al to long it were for to duelle She told eke how Tydeus she sent Vnto the strong â—yte of Thebes To clayme kyngdom of the cyte went For his felowe â—an Possymytrs Of whiche his owne broder Ethyocles Ful wrongfully of 〈◊〉 held the strength This â—old she by processe by lengthe She told eke how he monydeâ— asâ—erte 〈…〉 knyghtes stouâ—◠〈…〉 kynged with theyr 〈◊〉 〈…〉 ther the cyte of aboute And of the holy serpent the welle And of the furyed of gan she hym 〈◊〉 Associat profugum Tideus primâ— Poâ—â—midem Tidea legatum docet infidias 〈◊〉 secundis Teraus Hermodien 〈…〉 Morâ— furâ—e â—euine quinâ—â— narraÌ„tur angues Ouartue baâ—et wges ineuntes 〈◊〉 septem Archynon luseâ— seyto lud◠〈◊〉 leguntur Dat Graiâ—s Thelâ—s vâ—â—â—em sepâ—â—nis vmbâ—s Ocrauo câ—adit Tideus spes vitâ— pelagis Ipomedon
with hir look thurh shot thurh dar tid So feyneth he in lust ther he soiournyth And al his chere speche also he bournyth And ay of louys seruauntis euery whyle Hym self to wicke at hem he gan to smple And sayd lord so ye lyue alle in lese Ye louers for the connyngest of yow That seruyth most ententysly and lest Hym tâ—â— therof as often harme as prow Your huyre is quyt agayn ye god wote how Nat wele for we le but scorn for good see nyce In feyth youre ordir is râ—â—â—d in goodely wyse In no certayne ben al your obseruaunâ—â—s But it a sely feyre peyntes be Ne nothyng askyth so grete attendaunces As doeth your lay and that knowen al ye But that is not the worst so moâ—e I the But told I yow the worst poynt I leue All sayd I soth ye wold at me greue But take thys that ye louers oft eschyewe Or ellis don of good entrncioun Ful oft your lady wyl it mys conscriewe And deme it harme in her oppynyoun And yit yf she for other encheason Be wroth thâ—ne shalt thou haue a groyne 〈◊〉 Lord wele is hym that may be of yow 〈◊〉 But for al thys whan that he sawe hys tyme He held his peas noke other boote hym gayned For loue bygan hys fethyrs for to lyme That wel vnneth vnto hys folk he feyned That other besy nedis hym dystrayned For wo was hym that what to do he nyst But bad hys folk go wher that hem lyst And whan that he in chambre was alone He doun vpon hys beddis feete hym sette And fyrst he gan do sigh and eft to grone And thought ay so on hyr wythouten lette That as he sat and woke hys spirit mette That he her sawe temple and alle the guyse Ryght of her looke and gan it newe aduyse Thus gan he make a myrrour of hys mynde In whyche he sawe al hool hyr fygure And that he wel coude in hys hert fynde It was to hym a ryght good auenture To loue suche one and yf he dyd hys cure To seruen hyr yit myght he fal in grace Or ellis for one of hyr seruauntis pace Imagynyng that trauayle ne grame Ne myght not for so goodely one be lorn As she ne hym for no desyre ne shame Al wers it wyst but in pryce vp born Of al louers wel more than byforn Thus argued he in hys begynnyng Ful vnauysed of hys woo comyng Thus toke he purpos louys craft to syewe And thought he wold werke pryuely Fyrst to hyde hys desire in mewe From euery wyght y born vttirly But he myght ought recouered be therby Remembryng hym that loue to wyde y blowe Yeldith vetter fruyt though swete seede be sowe And ouer al thys moche more he thought What for to speke and what to hold ynne And to art her to loue he fought And a song anon ryght to begynne And gan lowd on hys sorow for to wynne For wyth good hope he gan fully assent Cryseyde for to loue and not to repente And of hys songe not only the sentence As wryteth myn auctour callyd â—ollius But pleynly saue oure tonges difference I dare wel say in al that Twylus Seyde in hys song â—o euery word ryght thus As I shal seyn and who so lyst it â—err Is next thys vers ye may it fynden nere Yf no loue is O god what ferle I so And yf loue is what thyng and whych is he Yf loue be good from whens comyth my we Yf it be wycke a wondyr thynkyth me Whan euery â—â—ment and aduersice That comyth of hym may to me sauâ—ry thynk For ay thryse I the more that I it dryust And yf that at myn owne lust I beenne FroÌ„ whens comyth my wayllyng my pleynt Yf harm angre me wherto pleyne I thenne I note not why vnwery that I feynt O quyst deth O sâ—bete harme so queynt How may of the in me be suche quantyte But yf I consent that it so be And yf that I consent wrongfully Conpleyne ywys thus possid to and fro Al styerles wythin a bote am I Amydde the see betwyn wyndes two That in contrary stondyn euermo Alas what is thys wondyr maladye For hete of cold for cold of hete I dye And to the god of loue thus sayd he Wyth pytous voys O lord now yowre is My spirit whyche that ought yowris be Yow thank I lord that haue me brought to this But whether goddesse or womman ywis She be I note whyche that ye do me serue But as hyr man I wyl ay lyue and sterue Ye stonden in her eyen myghtyly As in a place vnto your vertu dygne Therfor lord yf my seruyce or I May lyke yow so be to me benygne For myn estate Royal I here resigne In to her hande and wyth ful humble chere Bycome hyr man as to my lady dere In hym ne deyned to spare blood Royal The fyre of loue wherfrom god me blesse Ne hym forbare in no degre for al hys excellent or vertuous prowesse But held hym as hys thral in loue dystresse And brent hym so in sondry wyse al newe That sixty tyme a day he lost hys hewe So moche day from day hys owne thought For lust to hyr gan quyken and encreace That euery other charge he sette at nought For thy sul oft hys hote fyre to ceace To see her goodly chere he gan to preace For therby to be eased wel he wend And ay the nere he was the more he brend But whan he had a space from hys care Thus to hym self ful oft he gan to pleyne He sayd a foole now art thou in the snare That whylom Iapydest at loues peyne Now art thou bent now gnaw thyn owne cheyne Thou were ay wont eche louer to reprehende Of thynge the which thou canst the not defende What wyl now euery louer say of the If thys be wyst but euer in thyn absence Laugh in scorn and sey lo wher goth he That is the man of so grete sapyence That held vs louers lest in reuerence Now thanked be god he may go in the dauÌ„ce Of hem that loue lyst fyebly to auaunce But o thou woful Troylus god wold Syth thou must loue thurgh thy destyne That thou byset were on suche one that shold Knowe al thy woo al lakked her pyte But also cold in loue towardis the Thy lady is as frost in wynter moone And thou for done as frost in wynter soone God wold I were aryued in the port Of deth the whyche my sorow wyl me lede A lord to me it were a grete comfort Than were I quyte of langusshyng in drede For by myn hyd sorow y blowen in brede I shal y iaped be a thousand tyme More than a foole of whos foly men ryme But now help god and ye swete for whom I pleyne y caught ye neuer wyght so fast O mercy dere hert and help me from The deth for I whyle my lyf may last More than my self wyl
byhest But only that ye make hym better chere Than ye haue don or this make hym more fest So that hys lyf be saued at the lest Thys is al somÌ„e and playnly our entent God help me so I neuer other ment Lo thys request is not but skyl ywys Ne doute of treason parde is ther none I set the worst that ye dredden thys Men wold woundre to see hym come and gone There ageynst answere I thus anone That euery wyght but he be foole of kynde Wyl deme it loue and frendshyp in hys mynde What who wyl deeme though he see a man To temple go that he the ymage etyth Thynk eke how wel and wysely that he can Gouerne hym self that he nothyng foryetith That wher he comyth the pryce thank he getith And eke therto he shal come here so seld What fo rs were it yf al the towne beheld Suche loue of frendis regneth in all this towne And wry you in that mantel euerine And god so wysly be my saluacioune As I haue sayd you best is to do so But good nece alway to stynt hys wo So lete your daunger sugrid be alyte That of hys deth ye be not to wyte Criseyde whyche that herd hym in this wyst Thought I shal fole what ye meane ywis Now Eame quod she what wyl ye deuyse What is youre rede I shuld do of thys That is wel sayd quod he certeyn best is That ye hym loue agayn for hys louyng As loue for loue is skylful gwerdonnyâ—g Thynk eke how â—eld wostith euery houre In eche of yow a party of beaute And therfor or that age yow deuoure So loue for old ther wyl no wyght of the Late this prouerâ— a lore vnto yow be To late I ware quod beaute whan it is past And aage dauntyth daunger at the last The kynges foole is wont to cry lowde Whan that him thynkith a woÌ„man beriâ—h hir hye So long more ye lyue and al prowde Tyl crowee feete ben wax vndyr your eye And send yow than a myrrour in to pâ—ye In whyche that ye may see your face a morow I byd than wysshe you nomoâ—e sorow Wyth thys he stynt and cast doun the hede And she began to brest to wepe anon And sayd alas for wo why ner I dede For of thys world the feyth is al gon Alas what shuld a straunger to me don Whan he that for my best frend I wend Wyl make me loue and shuld me defend Alas I wold haue trustid douâ—eles That yf I that thurgh my dysauenture Had louyd hym othyr Achylles Hector or ony mannes creature Ye nold haue had no mercy ne mesure On me but alwey had me in repreue Thys fals world alas how may it leue What is thys al the Ioye and the feest Is thys your rede is thys your blysful caas Is thys the vemy mede of your byhest Is al thys peynted proces come to thys alas Ryght for thys fyne O lady myn Pallas Thou in thys drdeful cas for me purueys For so astonyed am I that I deye Wyth that she gan sorowfully to syke And may it be not bet quod Pandaus By god I shal nomore come here this wyke And god toforn that am mystrusted thus I see wel that ye sette lytel of vs Or of our deth Alas I woful wretche Myght he yit lyue of me is not to retche O cruel god o dyspytous mart O furyes thre of helle on you I crye So lete me neuer out of thys hous depart Yf that I ment harme or vylonye But sith I see my lord mote nedis dye And I wyth hym here I me shryue and seye That wyckedly ye do vs both deye But sith it lykyth yow that I be ded By Neptunus that god is on the see Fro thys furth shal I neuer ete brede Tyl I myn owne hert blood may see For certeyn I wyl dye as soone as hee And vp he stert and on hys wey he raught Tyl she ageyn hym by the lap caught Criseyde wyth that ful ny starf for fere So as she was the ferdfullest wyght That myght be and herd eke with hyr ere And saw the sorowful ernest of the knyght And in hys prayer eke sawe none vnright And for the harm that myght eke fal more She gan to rewe and dred hyr wonder sore And thought thus vnhappis fallen thyk Alday for loue in suche maner caas As men ben cruel in hem self and wyk And yf thys man sle hym self alas In my presence if wyl be no solas What men wyl it deme I can not sey It nedyth me ful wysely to pley And with a sorowful syke she sayd thry A lord what me is tyd a sory chaunce For myn estate lyeth in Iuparty And eke myn Eames lyf lyth in balaunce But natheles wyth goddis gouernaunce I shal so do myn honour shal I kepe And eke hys lyf and stynt for to wepe Of harmes two the lasse is for to chese Yit had I leuer make hym good chere In honour than myn owne eames lyf to leese Ye sey ye nothyng ellis requere Nowis quod he myn owne nece dere Now wel quod she and I wyl do my peyne I shal myn hert ageynst my lust constrayne But that I nyl not holdyn hym in honde Ne loue a man ne can I not ne may Ageynst hys wyl but ellis wyl I fonde Myn honour saue please hym from day to day Therto nold I not oones haue sayd nay But that I drede as in hys fantasy But cease the cause cesith the malady But here I make a protestacion That in thys proces or ye further go That certaynly for no saluacion Of yow though that ye sterue both two And al the world on a day be my fooo Ne shal I neuer of hym haue other rowth I graunt wel quod Pandare by my trowth But may I trust wel to yow quod he That of thys thyng that ye haue hyght me here Ye wyl holden trewly vnto me Ye doute it not quod she my vncle dere Ne that I shal haue cause in thys matrre Quod he to pleyne or ofter yow to preche Why no parde what nedyth more speche Tho fyllen they in other talis glade Tyl at the last o goode Eame quod she tho For hys loue whyche vs both made Tel me how fyrst ye wysten of hys woo Wote none of it but ye he sayd no Can he wel speke of loue quod she I yow prey Tel me for I the bet shal me pouruey Tho pandarus a lytel gan to smyle And sayd by my trouth I shal yow telle Thys othyr day not go ful long whyle Wythin the gardyn paleys by a welle Gan he and I half a day to dwelle Ryght for to speke of an ordynaunce How we the Grekis myght dysauaunce Soone after that we gan to lepe And cast wyth our â—â—rtis to and fro Tyl at the last he sayd he wold slepe And on the gras adoun he leyd hym tho And I after
lyst is blent The fyers Mars to apesyn of hys Ire And as ye lyst me make hertis dygne Algatis hem that ye wyl sette a fyre That dreden shame and vyces yit resigne Ye to hem curteys fressh be and benygne And hem promotith aftyr a wyght entendyth The Ioye that he hath your myght hym fendyth Ye holdyn regne and hous in vnyte The sothfast cause and frendshyp be also Ye know all thylk couered qualyte Of thynges whiche that folkes wondren on so That they can not constrewe how it may geo She louyth hym or why loueth he not here Or why this fissh not that comyth to the were The folke a lawe han sette in vniuers And thys know I by theym that louers be That who so striuyth with yow hath the wers Now lady bryght for thy benygnyte At reuerence of hem that seruen the Who 's clerk I am teche me deuyse SomÌ„e Ioye of that is felt in thy seruyse Ye in my naked hertis sentement In elde and do me shewe of thy wytnesse Caliope thy dayes ben now present For now is nede seest thon not my dystresse How I must telle anon right the gladnesse Of Troylus to venus heryeng To which gladnesse who nede hath god hym bryng ¶ Here endeth the prologe ¶ And here begynneth the thyrde booke LAy al thys mene whyle Troylus Recordyng hys lesson in thys manere Mafey thought he thus wil I sey thus Thus wyl I pleyne vnto my lady dere That word is good that shal be my matere Thys wyl I not for geten in no wyse God lyeue he werke as he gan deuyse And lord so hys hert gan tho to whappe Heryng hyr come and sore for to syke And Pandarus that lad hyr by the lappe Come nere and gan in at the curteyn pyke And sayd god do bote on al sike See who is here yow comyn to vysite Lo here is she that is yowre deth to wyte Therwyth it semed that he wept almost A ha god quod Troylus so sorowfully Wher me be woo o myghte god thou wost Who is al there I see not trewly Syr quod Criseyde it is Pandare and I Ye swete hert Alas I may not ryse To knele and do yow honour in somÌ„e wyse And dressid hym vpward and she ryght tho Bygan hyr handis soft vpon hym leye O for the loue of god do ye not so To me quod she what is thys to seye Syr come 〈◊〉 I to yow for causes tweye Fyrst yow to thank of yowre good lorshyp eke Contynuaunce therof I yow byseke Troylus that herd thus hys lady praye Of lordshyp hym was nother quyck ne dede Ne myght one word for shame to hyr seye And though men shuld haue smyte of his hed But lord so he was sodaynly rede And hys lesson that he wend had conne To pray hyr was thurgh hys hert y ronne Criseyde al thys espyed wel ynowgh For she was wyse louyd hym neuer the lasse Al though he were not malaê‘t made it towgh Or was to bold to syng a foole a masse But whan his shame bygan somwhat to passe Hys wordis as I may my rymes hold I wyl yow tellen as techen bokes old In chaungyd voyce right for hys lady drede Whyche voyce eke quoke therto hys manere Goodely abasshyd and now hys hyewes rede Now pale vnto Criseyde hys lady dere Wyth looke doun cest and humble lowly chere Lo altherfyrst word that hym astert Was twyes mercy mercy swete hert And stynt a while whan he myght out bryng The next word was god wote for I haue As ferforth as I haue had connynge Be yowres all so god my soule saue And shal tyl that I woful wyght be graue And though I ne dare ne can to yow compleyne Y wys I suffre not the lasse peyne Thus moche as now o wommanly wyf I may out bryng and yf it yow dysplease That shal I wreke vpon myn owne lyf Ryght soone I trowe and do yowre hert and ease If wyth my deth yowre hert may apease For sith ye haue me herd somwhat seye Now retche I neuer how soone that I deye Therwyth hys manly sorow to byhold It myght hath made an hert of stone to rewe And Pandare wept as he to water wold And seyd wo begon ben hertis trewe And prokid euer hys neece newe and newe For loue of god make of thys thyng an ende Or slee vs both at ones or we hens wende Ey what quod she by god and by my trowth I wote not what ye wold that I sey I what quod he that ye haue of hym rowth For goddis loue and do hym not to dey Now than quod she thus I wold hym prey To telle me the fyne of hys entent Yit wyst I neuer wel what he ment What that I meane o swete hert dere Quod Troylus o goodely fressh fre Wyth the streames of youre eyen clere Ye wold frendly somtyme on me see And that ye suffre that I neuer be he Wythout braunche of vyce in ony wyse Yow for to serue lyke as ye wyl deuyse As to my lady ryght and chyef resort And al my wytte and al my dylygence And I to haue ryght as yow lyst comfort Vndyr your yerd egal to myn offence As deth ye yf I do ony offence And that ye lyst me somoche honoure Me to coumaunde ought in ony houre And I to be yowre veray humble trewe Secret and in my paynes pacyent And euermore desire fresshly newe To serue and be y lyke dylygent And wyth good hert al holy yowre talent Receyue in gree how sore tht me smert Lo thus meane I myn owne swete hert Quod Pandarus lo here an hard request And resonably a lady for to werne Now neece myn by natal Iouis fest Were I a god ye shuld sterue as yerne That heren wel thys man nothynge yerne But yowre honour and see hym almost sterue And be so loth to suffre hym yow to serue Wyth that she gan hyr eyen on hym cast Ful esily and ful debonayrly Auysyng hyr and hyed her not to fast Wyth neuer a word but sayd hym sobyrby Myn honour sauf I wyl wel trewly And in suche fourme as ye conne deuyse Receyuen hym fully to my seruyse Besechyng hym for goddis loue that he Wold in honour trowth and gentylnesse As I welâ— meane eke meane he wel to me And myn honour wyth al besynesse Ay kepe yf I may do hym gladnesse From hensforth ywys I wyl not feyne Now beth al hole no lenger that ye pleyne But natheles thys warne I yow quod she A kynges sone though ye be ywys Ye shul nomore haue souemynte Of me in loue right but as in that cas is Ne I nyl forbere yf ye don amys To wrath yow and whyle ye me serue Cherissh yow right after yow deserue And shortly dere hert and al my knyght Beth glad and drawe yow to lustynesse And I shal trewly wyth al my myght Yowre bytter torne al in
it shal be ryght as thou wyl it deuyse For wel I wote thou meanest wel parde Therfore I dare thys fully vndyrtake Thou wost eke what thy lady grauntid the And day is sette the charters vp to make Haue now good nyght I may no lenger wake And byd for me sith thou art nowe in blisse That god the sende deth or soone lisse Who myght tel half the Ioye or feest Whyche that the sowle of Troylus tho felt Heryng theffect of Pandarus behest Hys old woo that made hys hert swelt Gan tho for Ioye to wasten and to melt And al the thoughtis of hys sighes sore Attones fled he felt of theym nomore But ryght as thyse holtis and these hayes That haue ben in wynter deed and dryen Reuesten hem in grene whan that may is Whan euery lusty lystiâ—h for to pleyen Ryght in that self wyse soth for to seyen Wax sodaynly hys hert ful of Ioye That gladder was ther neuer man in Troye And gan hys looke on Pandarus vp cast Ful soberly and frendly vnto see And sayd frende in Apryl the last Wel thou wost yf it remembre the Wel nygh the deth for woo thou fond me And how thow dydest all thy besynesse To knowe of me the cause of my dystresse Thou wost how long I forbare to seye To the that art the man that I best tryst And perille none was it to the bewreye That wyst I wel but telle me yf the lyst Syth I so both was that thy felt it wyst How durst I mo telle of thys matere That qwake now and noman may vs here But natheles by that god I the swete That as hym lyse may al thys world gouerne And yf I lye A chylles wyth a spete My hert cleue al were my lyf a terne As I am mortal yf I late or yerne Wold it bewrey it shewe or conne For al the good that god made vndyr the sonne But rather wold I dey and determyne As thynketh me now stokked in pryson In wretchydnesse in fylth and vermyne Captyf to cruel kyng A gamenon And thys in al the templis of the towne Vpon the goddis al wyl I the swere To morow day yf it likyth the to bere And that thou hast somoche y do for me That I ne may it neuermore deserue Thys know I wel al myght I now for the A thousand tymes in a morow sterue I can nomore but that I wyl the serue Ryght as thy slaue whyder so thow wende For euermore vnto my lyues ende But here wyth al myn hert I the beseche That neuer in me thou deme suche foly As I shal sey me thought by thy speche That thys that thou hast me for company Do I shuld deme it a bawdry I am not wood al yf I lewd be It is not bawdry that wote I wel parde But he that goth for gold or for rynges On suche message calle hem what the lest But thys that thou doest for gentylnesse Compassion felawshyp and trust Departe it so for wyde where is wyst How that ther is dyuersite requyred Betwyx thynges lyke as I haue lerid And that thou knowe I thynk not ne weene That thys seruyse a shame be or a Iape I haue my fayr sustyr Polixene Cassandre Heleyne or ony of the frape Be she neuer so fayre ne so wel y shape Tel me whyche thou wylt of euerichon To haue for thyn and lete me than alone But sith thou hast do me thys seruyse My lyf to saue and for no hope of mede So for the loue of god thys grete empryse Perfourme it ouâ— for now is most neede For hye or lowe wythout ony drede I wyl alwey thy hestis al kepe Haue now good nyght and late vs both slepe Thus held hem eche of other wel apayed That al the world ne myght it amende And on the morow whan they were arayed Eche to hys owne neede gan entende But Troylus thought as the fyre he brende For sharp desire of hope and of plesaunce He not forgate hys wyse gouernaunce But in hym self wyth manhod gan restreyne Eche recheles dede and eche brydeld chere That al tho that lyuen soth to seyne Ne shuld haue wyst by word ne manere What that he ment as touchyng thys matere From euery wyght as fer as the clowde He was so wyse and dyssimylen he cowde And al thys whyle whyche I yow deuyse Thys was hys lyf wyth hys ful myght By day he was in Martis hygh seruyse That is to say in armes as a knyght And for the most part the long nyght He lay and thought how that he mygt serue Hys lady â—est hyr thank for to deserue For why she fond hym so dyseret in al So secrete and of suche obeysaunce That wel she felt he was to hyr a wal Of styele a sheld from euery dysplesaunce That to be in hys good gouernaunce So wyse he was she was nomore aferd I meane as fer as ought to be requyred And Pandarus to qwykene alwey the fyre Was euer lyke prest and dylygent To ease hys frend was set alle hys desire He shof ay on he to and fro was sent He lettris bere whan Troylus was absent That neuer wyght wyst as in hys frendis nede Ne bare hym bet to do hys frend to spede But nowe perauenture somÌ„e men wayte wold That euery word or looke sond or chere Of Troylus that I reherse shold In al thys whyle vnto hys lady dere I trow it were a long thyng to here Or of ony wyght that stant in suche dysioynt Hys wordis all or euery looke to poynt Forsoth I haue not herd it done or thys In story none ne noman here I wene And though I wold I cowd not ywys For ther was somÌ„e epystyl sent betwene That wold as seyth my auctour we le contene An hundryd verse of which hym lyst not wryte How shuld I than a lyne of it endyte But to the grete effecte that I sey thus That stondyng in concord and quyete Thyse ylke two Criseyde and Troylus As I haue sayd in thys tyme swete Saue only that oft tyme they myght not mete Ne leysir had her spechis to fulfylle It befel ryght as I shal yow telle That pandarus which that alway dide his myght Ryght for the fyne that I speke of here As for to bryng to hys hous somÌ„e nyght Hys fayre neece and Troylus y feere Ther as at leyser al thys hye matere Touchyng theyr loue were at the ful vp bound Had as hym thought a iyme therto y found For he wyth grete delyberacion Had euery thyng that therto myght auayle Forn cast and put in execucion And nothyr left for cost ne for trauayle That none of hem shuld in nothyng fayle And for to be not espyed there He thought we le an impossible were And dredles it clere was in the wynd Of euery pye and euery let game Thus al is wel and al thys world is blynd In thys matere bothe wyld and tame Thys
what is I hope al shal be we le that is amys For ye may qwenche al thys yf ye lest And doth right so I hold it for the best So shal I do to morowe ywys quod she And god toforn so that it shal suffise To morow alas that were fayre quod he Nay nay it may not stande in thys wyse For neece myn thus wryten clerkis wyse That peryl is wyth dretchyng in y drawe Nay suche abodis ben not worth an hawe Neece al thyng hath tyme I dare a vowe For whan a chamber a fyre is or an halle Wel more myster is it sodaynly rescowe Than to dyspute and aske among hem alle How thys candel in the strawe dyde falle A benedicite for al that long fare The harm is do and fare wel feld fare And neece myn ne take it not a gryef Yf that ye suffre hym al nyght in thys woo God help me soo ye had hym neuer lyef That dare I sey now ther is but we two But wel I wote ye wyl not do so Ye be to wyse to do so grete folye To put hys lyf al nyght in Ieopardye Had ye hym neuer lyef by god I weene I had neuer thyng so lyef by god quod she Now by my trowth quod he that shal be seene For sith ye make thys ensample of me Yf I al nyght wold hym in sorow see For al the tresour in the towne of Troye I byd god neuer more haue I Ioye Now lokyth than yf that ye be hys loue To put al nyght hys lyf in Ieopardye For thyng of nought now by that lord aboue Not only thys delay comyth of folye But of malyce yf I shal not lye â— What platly and ye see hym in dystresse Neyther ye wysely don ne gentylnesse Quod tho Criseyde wyl ye do o thyng And ye therwyth shul sâ—ynt hys dyscase Haue here and bare hym thys blew ryng For ther is nothyng may hym bettyr please Saue I my self ne more hys hert ease And sey my dere hert that hys sorow Is causeles and that he shal see to morow A ryng quod he ye hasilwoode is shaken Ye neece myn that ryng must haue a stone That myght ded men alyue maken And such a ryng trowe I that ye haue none Discrecion out of your heed is gone That fele I now quod he and that is rowth O tyme y lost wel mayst thou curs slowth Wote ye not we le that noble and hye corage Ne sorowyth not ne styntyth not for lyte But yf a foole were in a Ialous rage I nold sette at his sorow a myte But feffe hym wyth a fewe wordis whyte Another day whan I myght hym fynde But thys thyng stant al in another kynde He is so gentyl and so tendre of hert That wyth hys deth he wyl hys sorow wreke For trustyth wel how sore that hym smert He wyl to yow no Ialous word speke And for thy neece or that hys hert breke So speke yowre self to hym of thys matere For wyth oo word ye may hys hert stere Now haue I told what peryl he is ynne And hys comyng vnwyst of euery wyght And parde harme may ther be none ne synne I wyl my self be wyth yow al thys nyght Ye know wel eke he is your owne knyght And that by right ye must vpon hym tryst And I al prest to fetche hym whan ye lyst Thys accydent so pytous was to here And eke so lyke a soth at pryme face And Troylus hyr knyght to hyr so dere Hys pryuy comyng and the siker place That though she dyd hym as than a grace Considred al thynges as they stoode No wonder is sith she dyd al for goode Criseyde answerd as wysly god at rest My soule bryng as me is for hym wo And Eame ywys fayne wold I do the best If that I had grace to do so But whethyr that ye dwelle of for hym go I am tyl god me bettyr mynd sende At Dulcarnon at my wyttes ende Quod Pandarus ye neece wyl ye here Dulcarnon is callid flemyng of wretchis It semyth hard for wretchis wyl not here For veray slowth and other wylful tetchis Thys seyd he by hem that be not worth two fetchis But ye be wyse haue this matere in hande Nys nother hard ne skylful to withstonde Than Eame quod she doeth herof as ye lyst But or he come I wyl fyrst aryse And for the loue of god sith al my tryst Is on yow two and ye both wyse So wyrkyth now in so dyscrete a wyse That I honour may haue and he plesaunce For I am here now in your gouernaunce Thys is wel sayd quod he my nece dere Good thryft came on that wyse gentyl hert But liggyth styll and takith hym ryght here It nedyth not no further for hym stert And eche of yow ease other sorowes smert For soone hope I we shul all be mery For loue of god and venus I the hery Thys Troylus ful soone on knees hym sette Ful sobyrly ryght by hyr beddis hede And in hys best wyse hys lady grette But lord so she was sodaynly rede Ne though men shuld smyte of hyr hede She myght not o word a ryght out bryng So sodaynly for hys sooâ—e comyng But Pandarus that so we le cowd fele In euery thyng to pleye anone bygan And sayd neece see how thys lord can knele Now for your trowth see thys gentylman And wyth that word he for a qwysshon ran And sayd now knelyth whyle that yow lyst That god yowre hertis bryng soone at rest Can I not seyn for she had hym not ryse If sorow it put out of remembraunce Or ellie that she tooke it â—n thys wyse Of dyewâ—e as for hyâ— obeysaunce But we le I rede she dyd hym thys plesaunce That she hym kyst â— al though he sighed sore And bud hym 〈◊〉 a dâ—un wythoutâ—n morâ— Quod Pandarus now wyl ye we le bygynne Now doth hym 〈◊〉 goode neece 〈◊〉 Vpon yowre beddis sâ—de al wythynne That eche of yow the â—et â—ay other here And wyth that word he drewe hym to the fyre And toke a lyght feyned hys contenaunce As for to looke â—vpon an old romaunce Criseyde that was Troylus lady ryght And clere stood on a grounde of sikernesse Al though she hyr seruaunt and hyr knyght He shuld of ryght none vntrowth in hyr gesse Yit natheles considered hys dystresse And that loue to in cause of suche folye Thus to hym spâ—ck she of hys Ialousye Lo hert myn as wold the excellence Of loue ageynst the whyche â—oman may Ne ought eke goodely make resistence And eke by cause I felt wel and saye Yowre grete trowth and seruyce euery daye And that yowre hert al myn was sooth to seyne Thys droue me to rewe vpon your peyne And your goodnesse haue I found alwey yit Of whyche my dere hert and my knyght I thank it yow as fer as I haue wyt Al can I not as moche as it were ryght
so dismaide That noste not yf she wyl be wele apayde To rauysshe hyr syth thou hast not be there But yf that Ioue told it in thyn ere For thy ryse vp as though ne were anone And wasshe thy face to the kyng thou weÌ„de Or he may wonder whyder thow art gone Thow must with wysedom hym other blend Or vpon caas he may after the sende Or thow be ware shortely brorer dere Be glad lete me wâ—â—ke in this matere For I shal shape it soo that sykerly Thow shalt this nyght somtyme in som manere Come speke with thy lady pryuely And by hyr wordes eke by hyr chere Thow shalt wel sone perceyue here Al hyr entent of this cas the best And fare now we le for in this poynt I rest The swyft fame whiche that fals thynges Egally reporteth lyke thynges trewe Was thurgh out Troys fled with prest wynges From man to men made thys tale al newe How Calcas doughter with hyr bryght hewe At parlement without wordes more Y graunted was in chaunge of Anthenore The whiche tale anone as Creseyde Had herd as she that of hyr fader rought As in this cas ryght nought ne when he deide Ful besyly to Iupyter bysought Yeue hym myschaunce that this treatice wrouÈt But shortely 〈◊〉 this tale soth were She durst of no wyght asken for fere As she that hyr hert al hyr mynde On Troylus y set was so wonder fast That al this world ne myÈt hyr loue vnbynde Ne Troylus oute of hyr hert cast She wyl be his whyle hir lyf may last And thus she brennyth bothe in loue drede Soo that she nyste what was to rede But as men see in Towne al aboute That wymmen vse frendes to vyfyte Soo to Creseyde of wymen come a rowte For pytous ioye wende hyr delyte And with theyr tales dere ynow amyte These wymmen whiche that in the cyte dwelle They sette hem doune seyde as I shal telle Quod fyrst that one I am glad trewely By cause of yow ye shal yowre fader see Another sayd ywys so am not I For al to lytel hath she with vs be Quod tho the thyrd I hope ywys that she Shal brynge vs pees on euery syde That whan she goth almyÈty god hyr guyde The wordys the womannysshe thynges She herd ryght as she thens were For god wote hyr hert on other thyng is Al though the body sat among hem there Hyr audyence is alwey elles where For Troylus ful fast hyr sowle sought Withouten word alwey on hym she thought These wymmen that thâ—s wenden hyr to please Aboute nought gan al these tales spende Suche vanyte ne can hyr do none ease As she that al this mene whyle brende Of other passyoun than they wende So that she felt al moost hyr hert dye For woo wery of that companye For whiche no lenger myght she restreyne The terys so they gan vp to welle That youen sygnes of the bytter peyne In whiche hyr spyryte was muste duelle Remembryng hyr from heuene in to helle She fallen was syth she forgoth the syght Of Troylus sorowfully she syght And thylk foolys that saten here aboute Wend that she so wept syghed sore By cause that she shold oute of that route Departe pleye neuer with hem more And they that had knowen her of yore Sawe hyr so wepe thought it kyndenesse And eche of hem wept for hyr dystresse And besyly they gan hyr comfort Of thyng god wote on whiche she lytel thouÈt And with hyr tales wenden hyr dyspoÈt And to be glad they often hyr besought But such an ease they hir therwith wrought Ryght as a man is esed for to fele For ache of hede to clawe hym on the hele But after al thys nyce vanyte They token hyr leue home they wenten alle Creseyde ful of sorowful pyte In to the chambre vp oute of the halle And on hyr bygan for deed gan to falle In purpoos thens neuer for to ryse And thus she wrought as I shal yow â—â—â—yse Her yelowe heer that sonnysshe was of bew She rent and eke hyr fyngers longe smale She wrong ful oft bad god on hyr rewe And with hyr deth to doo bote on hyr bale Hyr hewe whylome so bryght tho was pale Bare wytnesse of hyr wo and hyr consâ—â—â—ynt And thus she spak sobbyng in hyr compleynt Alas quod she oute of this Regyoun I woful wretche Infortuned wyght And borne in cursyd constellacyoun Motâ— goo and thus departe fro my knyght Wo worth alas that ylke dayes lyght On whiche I sawe fyrst with eyen tweyne That causyth me hym al this peyne Therwyth the terys from her eyen two Doune fyl as showre in apryl doth swythe Hyr whyte brest she bete and for the wo After the deth she cryed a thousand sythe Syth he that wont hyr wo was to lythe She mote forgoo for suche dysauenture She held hyr self a forbost creature She sayde how shal he do I also How shal I lyue yf I from hym twynne O dere hert eke that I loue so Who shal that sorowe slee that ye ben ynne O Calcas fader thyn be al thys synne O moder myn that cleped art Argyue Woo worth that day thow bare my elyue To what fyne shold I lyue and sorowe thus How shold a fysshe withoute water dure What is Creseyde worth from Troylus How shold a plant or lyues creature Lyue withoute his kyndely noreture For whiche ful oft a byword here I seye That roteles mote grene sone deye I shal doo thus syth none other swerd ne dart Dare I none handle for the cruelte That ylk day I mote from yow depart If sorow of that wyl not my bane be Than shal no mete ne drynke come in me Tyll my sowle oute of my brest vnshethe And thus my self wol I do to dethe And Troylus my clothes euerychone Shal blak be in tokenyng hert swete That I am as oute of this world agone I wont was yow to sette in quyete And of myn ordre ay tyl deth me mete The obseruaunce euer in your absence Shal sorow be compleynt abstynence Myn hert eke the woful ghost theryn Byqueth I with youre spyryte to compleyne Eternally for they shal neuer twyn For though in erth I twynned be we tweyne Yet in the fold of pyte oute of peyne That hyght Elyzos shal we ben in fere As Orpheus is with Erudyce his fere Thus hert myn for Anthenore alas I soone shal be chaunged as I wene But how shal ye do now in thys cas How shal youre sorowful hert it sustene But hert myn foryete this sorow tene And me also for sothly for to sey So ye fare we le I recke not to dey How euer myght y redde be or songe The pleynt that she made in hyr dystresse I not but as for me my lytel tonge If I descryue wold hyr heuynesse It
shold make hyr sorowe seme lesse Than that was chyldely deface Hyr hye compleynt therfor I lete it pace Pandare whiche that sent was for Troylus Vnto Creseyde as ye haue herd deuyse That for the best it was acorded thus And he ful glad to do hym that seruyse Vnto Creseyde in a ful secre wyse There as she lay in turment in rage Come hyr to telle al holy his message And fonde that she hyr self gan to trete Ful pytously for with hyr salt teres Hyr brest hyr face y bathed was ful wete The myghty tressys of hyr sonnysshe herys Vnbroyded hyng al aboute hyr ere 's Whiche yafe hym veray sygne of matyere Of deth whiche that hyr hert gan desyre When she hym sawe she gan for sorowe anone Hyr woful face bytweye hyr armes hyde For whiche this pandarus is so wo bygone That in the how 's he myght vnnethe abyde As he that pyte felt on euery syde For yf Troylus had erst compleyned sore Than gan she pleyne a thousand tymes more And in hyr asper playnt thus she sayde Pandare fyrst of ioyes mo than two Was cause causyng vnto me Creseyde That now transmuted ben in cruel wo Whether shal I say welcome to yow or no That altherfyrst me brought in to seruyse Of loue alas that endeth in suche wyse Endyth than loue in wo ye or men lyeth And al worldly blysse as thynketh me Th end of blysse ay sorowe it occupyeth And who so troweth that it not so be Lete hym vpon my woful wretche see That my self hate and my byrth curs Felyng alwey fro wyk I goo to wurs Who soo me seeth seeth sorowes al at ones Pryue woo peyne turment and dystresse Out of my woful body harme ther ynouh is As anguysshe langour cruel bytternesse Annoy smert drede fury and eke sykenesse I trowe ywys from heuene teres reyne For pyte of myn asper cruel peyne And thow my suster ful of dyscomfort Quod pandarus what thynkest thow to do Why ne hast thow to thy self som resport Why wylt thou thus alas thy self for doo Leue al this and take now hede to That I shal say and herkene in good entent This whiche by me thy Troylus the sent Turnyd tho Creseyde a woo makyng So grete that deth it was to see Alas she sayde what wordes may ye bryng What wyl my dere hert sey to me Whiche that I drede neuermore to see Wyl he haue pleynt or terys or I wende I haue ynowh yf he therafter sende She was ryght suche to see in hyr visage As is that wyght that men on bere bynde Hir face lyche of paradice the ymage Was al y chaunged in to another kynde The pleye the laughter men were wont to fynde On hyr eke hyr ioyes euerychone Ben fled and thus lyeth Creseyde alone Aboute hyr eyen two a propyr ryng Bytrent in sothfast token of hyr peyne That to byhold it was a dedely thyng For whiche pandare myght not restreyne The terys from his eyen for to reyne But netheles as he best myght he seyde From Troylus these wordes vnto Creseyde Loo nece I trowe ye haue herd al how The kyng with other lordes for the best Hath made a chaunge for Anthenor yow That cause is of this sorowe vnrest But how this cas doth Troylus moleste That may none erthely mannes tonge seye As he that shortely shapyth hym to deye For whiche we haue so sorowed both he I That in to lytel both it hath vs slawe But thurgh my counseyl thys day fynally He somwhat is fro wepyng now withdrawe And semyth me that he desyreth fawe With yow to be al nyght for to deuyse Remedy of this yf there be ony wyse This is short pleyn theffect of my message As ferforth as my wyt can comprehende For that ye be of turment in suche a rage Ye maye to no long prolog as now entende And herupon ye must ansuer hym sende And for the loue of god my nece dere So leue this woo or Troylus come here Grete is my woo quod she and syghed sore As she that felyth dethes sharp distresse But yet to me his sorow is moche more That loue hym let than he him self I gesse Alas for me hath he suche heuynesse Can he for me so pitously compleyne Ywys hys sorowe doublyth al my peyne Greuous for me god wote is for to twynne Quod she but god wote harder is to me To see that sorowe whiche that he is Inne For wel I wote it wol my bane be And dye I wyl in certeyne quod she But byd hym com or deth that thus me threteth Dryue out that ghost whiche in myn hert beteth These wordes sayde she on hyr armes two Fulgruf and gan to wepe pytously Quod pandarus alas why doo ye soo Syth wele ye wote the tyme is fast by That he shal come aryse vp hastely That he bywopen thus yow now fynde But ye wol haue hym wode out of his mynde For wyst he ye ferd in thys manere He wold hym self slee yf I wende To haue this fare he shold not come here For al the good that Priamus may dyspende For to what fyne he wold anone pretende That knowe I wele therfor yet I sey Soo lete this sorowe or platly he wyl dey And shapyth yow his sorow to abredge And not to encrece lyef nece swete Be rather to hym of flat than edge And with som wysedom ye his sorowe bete What helpeth it to wepe ful a sterte Or though ye bothe in salt terye dreynt Bet is a tyme of cure than of compleynt I mene as whan I hyder hym bryng Syth ye ben wyse of one assent Soo shapyth how to dystourbe youre goyng Or come ageyn sone after ye be went Wymmen ben wyse in short auysement And late see now youre wyt how shal auayle And that I may help shal not fayle Go quod Creseyde vncle trewely I shal do al my myght me to restreyne From wepyng in his syght besyly Hym for to glade I shal do my peyne And in my hert seke euery veyne Yf to his sore there may be founde salue It shal not lak certeyn in my behalue Goth Pandarus Troylus he sought Tyl in a Temple he fond hym al alone As he that of his lyf nomore rought But to the pytous goddes enerychone Ful tenderly he prayd made his mone To doo hym soone oute of this world pace For wele he thought ther was none other grace And shortely al the sothe to sey He was so falle in despeyr that day That vtterly he shope for to dey For ryght thus was his argument alway He sayd I am but lorn so we le away For al that cometh cometh by necessyte Thus to be lorn it is my destyne For certeynly this wote I wel he seyde That forsyght of dyuyne purueaunce Hath seen me alwey to forgoo Creseyde Syth god seeth euery thyng oute of doutaūce And hem dysposyth after his
nono moritur cum Parthonepeo Fulmine percusso decimo Canapus superatur Vndecimo sese perimunt per vutnera fratres Argiuam flentem narrat duodenis ignem Of Archenores buryeng and the playes And how Amphyoray fyl thurgh the ground How Tydeus was slayn lord of Argeys And how Ipomedon in a lytel stounde Was dreynt dede Parthonope of wound And how Canapus the prowde With thonder was slayn that cryed lowde She gan hym eke telle how that eyther broder Ethyocles and Polemyte also At a scarmuche eche of theym slowe other And of Argyue hyr wepyng hyr woo And how the town was brent she told eke thâ— And so descendyd doune from gestys old To Dyomede thus she spack told This ylke bore bytokeneth Dyomede Tydeus sonne that doune descended is Fro Meleager that made the bore to blode And thy ladyâ— where that she be ywys This Dyomede hyr hert hath she his Wepe yf thow wylt or leue for oute of doute This Dyomede is in thou art out Thow seyst not soth thou fals sorceres With al thy fals goost of Prophecye Thow wenest to be a grete dyuyneres Now seest thow not this foole of fantasye Peyneth hyr on ladyes for to lye Awey quod he there Iouys yeue the sorowe Thow shalt be fals paraunter yet to morowe As wele myghtest thow lye vppon Alceste That was of creatures but men lye That euer was the kyndethe best For when hyr husbond was in ieopardye To dye hym self but yf she wold dye She chaas for hym to dye and goo to helle And starf anone as vs the bokes telle Cassandre goth he with cruel herte For that his woo for anger of her speche And from his bed al sodeynly he stert As though al hole hym had made a leche And day by day he gan enquere seche A sooth of this with al his besy cure And thus he dryneth forth his aduenture Fortune whiche hath the permutacyon Of thynges had as it is here commytted By purueaunce and dysposycyoun Of hym Ioue as Reygnes shul be flytted From folk in folk or when they shal be smitted Gan pul awey the fethers bryght of Troye From day to day tyl they be bare of ioye Among al this the fyn of the parody Of Hector gan approche wonder blyue The faate wold his soule shold vnbody And shapen had a mene oute to dryue Ageynst whiche faat hym helpyth not to stryue But on a day to fyght gan be wende At whiche alas he caught his last ende For whiche me thynketh that euery maner wyÈt That hauntyth armes ought to bewayle The deth of hym that was so noble a knyght For as he drowe a kyng by the auentayle Vnware of this Achylles thurgh the mayle And thurgh the body gan hym for to ryue And thus that worthy knyÈt was brouÈt froÌ„ liue For whome as old bookes tellen vs Was made suche wo that tonge may it not telle And namelyche the sorowe of Troylus That next hym was of worthynes welle And in this woo gan Troylus to duelle That for that sorowe loue of his vnrest Ful ofte a day he had his herte brest But netheles though he gan hym dyspeyre He dred ay his lady was vntrewe Yet ay on hyr his herte gan repayre And as louers done he sought ay newe To gete ageyne Treseyde bryght of hewe And in his herte he wente ay excusyng That Calcas caused al hyr taryeng And oftyme he was in purpoos grete Hym self lyke a pylgrym to desguyse To seen hyr but he couthe not counterfete To be vnknowe of folk that were wyse Ne fynd excuse a ryght that myght suffyse If he among the grekes knowen were For whiche he wepte ful ofte many a tere To hyr he wrote yet efte al newe Ful pytously he lete not for slouth Bysechyng hyr that syth he was trewe That she wold come ageyne hold her trouth For whiche Creseyde vppon a day for routhe I take it soo touchyng al this matere Wrote hym ageyne sayd as ye may here Cupydes sone ensample of goodlyheed O swerd of knyghthode sours of gentylnesse How myght a wyght in turment in drede And helthles send yow as yet gladnesse I herteles I syghe in grete dystresse Syth ye with me nor I with yow may dele Yow may I send neyther herte ne hele Youre lettres ful the papyr al be pleynted Conceyued hath myn hertes pyte I haue eke seyn with teres al be peynted Youre letter how ye â— quyren me To come ageyne whiche yet may not be But why lest that this letter found were No mencyoun make I now for fere Greuous to me god wote your vnreste Youre hast if at the goddes ordynaunce It semeth not ye take it for the best For other thynges nys in youre remembraunâ—â— As thynketh me but only youre pâ—saunce But he not wroth and that I yow byseche For that I tarye it is for wykked speche For I haue herd wel more than I wende Towchyng vâ— two how thynges haue y stoÌ„de Whiche I shal with dyssymylyng amende And be ye not wrothe I haue eke vnderstonde How ye ne doo but hold me in honde But now no fore I can not in yow gesse But al trouthe euer and al gentylnesse Come I wyl but yet in suche disioynt I stond as now but what houre or what daye That this shal bâ—â—an I not apoynt But in effect I pray yow as I may Of youre good word of youre frendship ay For trewely whyse my lyf may dure As for a frend ye may in me assurr Yet I pray yow on euyl ye ne take That it is short whiche I to yow wryte I dare not there I am wel lettres make â—le neuer yet couthe I welâ— endyte Eke grete effect men wryte in place lyte Theneâ—ut is al not the lettres space And farith now wel god haue you in his grace Troylus this letter thought al straunge When he it sawe and sorowfully he syght Hym thought it a kalendys of chaunge But fynally he ful ne trowen myght That she ne wold hold hym that she hyght For withful euyl wylle lyst hym to leue That louith wele in suche caas thouÈ hym greue But netheles men seyn that at the last For ony thyng men shuln the sooth see And suche a caas betyd and that as fast That Troylus wele vnderstood that she Nas not so kynde as hyr ought to be And fynally he wote now oute of doute That al is lost that he hath ben aboute Stood on a day in his melancolye This Troylus and in suspectyoun Of hyr for whome he wende for to dye And soo byfel that thurgh Troye Towne As was the gyse bore was vp doime A maner cote armure as seyth the story Byfore Deyphebus in sygne of vyctory The whiche Cote as seyth Lollyus Deyphebe had rent from Dyomede The same day and whan this Troylus It sawe he gan to take of it hede Auysyng on the lengthe of the