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
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
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
falle he hath no help to ryse And sith thou hast a felowe telle thy mone For thys is not certeyne the next wyse To wynnen loue as rechen vs the wyse To walewe and wepe as Nyobe the quene Who 's teens yit in marbyl stone be seene Late be thy wepyng and thy drerynesse And lete vs lâ—ssen woo wyth oure speche So may thy woful tyme seeme lesse Delyte not in woo thy woo to seche As don thyse fooles that theyr sorowes eche Wyth sorow whan they haue mysauenture And lyst not to seche hem othyr cure Men seyn to wretchis is consolacioun To haue anothyr felâ—w in hys peyne That ought wel be oure oppynyoun For both thou and I for loue we pleyne So ful of sorow am I soth to seyne That certaynly nomoore hard grace May sitte on me for why ther is no space Yf god wyl thou art not agast of me Lest I wold of thy lady the begyle Thou wost thy self whom that I loue parde As I best can goon sith long whyle And sith thou woost I do it for no wyle And seyst I am he thou trustist most Tel me somwhat sith al my wyt thou woost Yet Troylus for al thys no worde seyd But long he lay stylle as he deed were And after thys wyth sighyng he abreyde And to pandarus voyce he leyd hys eve And vp hys eyen cast he that in fere Was Pandarus lest that in frenesye He shuld falle or ellis soone dye And cryed awake ful wonderly and sharp What slombryst thou an in a lytargy Or art thou lyke an Asse vnto the harp That herith sowne whan men the strynges plye But in hys mynde of that no melodye May synken in to gladden for that he So dul is of hys bestialyte And wyth that Pandare of hys wordis stent And Troylus yit hym nothyng answerd For thy to tellen was not hys entent Neuer to noman for whom he so ferd For it is sayd men make oft a yerd Wyth whyche the maker is hym self y betyn In sondry maner as these wyse tretyn And namely in hys counsayl tellyng That touchyth loue that ought to be secre For of hym self it wyl ynough out spryng But yf that it the bet gouerned be Eke somtyme it is craft to seme fle For thyng whyche in effect men huntyn fast Al thys gan Troylus in hys herte cast But neuertheles whan he had herd hym crye Awake he gan and sighed wonder sore And sayd frende though that I stylle lye I am not deef now peas and crye nomore I haue herd thy wordis and thy lore But suffre me my myschyef to bewaylen For thy prouerbis may me not auaylen None other cure canst thou for me Eke I wyl not be curid I wyl deye What knowe I of the quene Nyobe Eate be thyn old ensamples I the preye No quod pandare therfore I seye Suche is delyte of foolis to bywepe Her wo but seeke boote they ne kepe Now know I that reason in the faylyth But tel me yf I wyst what she were For whom that the al this mysauenture aylyth Durst thou that I told it in her eere Thy woo sith thou darst not thy self for fere And hyr besought on the to haue somÌ„e rowth Why nay quod he by god and by my trowth What not as busily quod pandarus As though myn owne lyf lay in thys nede No certis brother quod thys Troylus And why for that thou shuldest neuer spede Woost thou not wel ye that is out of drede Quod troylus for al that euer ye conne She nyl to no suche wretche as I be wonne Quod pandarus alas what may thys be That thou dyspayrid art thus causeles What lyuyth not thy lady benedicite How woost thou soo that thou art graceles Suche euyl is not alway booteles Why put not impossible thus thy cure Syth thyng to come is oft hath aduenture What shold he therfor fal in dyspeyre Or be recreaunt for hys owne teene Or sle hym self al be hys lady feyre Nay nay but euer in oon be fressh and grene To serue and loue hys dere hertis quene And thynk it is a gwerdon for to serue A thousand fold more than he can deserue And of that word toke heede Troylus And thought anon what folye he was in And how that soth hym sayde Pandarus That for to sle hym self myght he not wynne But both do vnmanhod and a synne And of hys dâ—th hys lady not to wyde For of his woo god woot she knew but lyte And wyth that thought he gan ful sor◠〈◊〉 And sayd alas what is me best to do To whom pandare answerd yf the lyke The best is that thou telle me al thy woo And haue my trouth but thou fynd it so A be shy boote or that it be ful long And ellis â—o pâ—as do me drawe and â—â—ng Yeso sâ—yst thou quod Troylus tho alâ—â— But god wote it is not the rather so Ful hard wote it to helpen in thys caâ— For we le fynd I that fortune is my foo Ne alle the men that ryden conne or goo May of hyr cruel wâ—â—le the harm withstonde For as she lyse she pleyth wyth for and 〈◊〉 I graunt wel if at thou endurist woo As sharp as doth Tiaue in beste Whoo stomack fowlio tyrâ—n euermo That hyght vulturre as bookes 〈◊〉 But I may not endure that thou dwelle In so an vnskilful oppynyon That of thy woo is no cumaon But oones nyltow for thy coward lert And for thyn ite and foolissh wylfulnesse For wantrust tel of thy woundis smert Ne to thyn owne help do besynesse As moche as speke a reason more on lesse But lyggese as he that lyst of nothyng retâ—â—â— What womman coude loue suche a wretche What may she deme othyr of thy deth Yf thou thus dye and she note why it is But that for drede is yolden vp thy breth For Greekis han bysegyd vs ywys Lord suche a thank shalt thou haue of thys Thus wyl she say and alle the towne atones The wretche is ded the deuyl haue hys bones Thou mayst alone here wepe kneâ—â— and crye But loue a womman that she wote itâ— nought And she shal quyte it thou shalt it not espye Vnknow vnkyst and lost that is vnsought What many a man hath loue ful dere y bought Twenty wynter that hys lady ne wyst That neuer yit hys lady mouth he kyst Quod pandarus thou blamest fortune For thou art wroth now at erst I see Wost thou not wel that fortune is comune To euery maner wyght in somÌ„e degre And yit thou hast thys comfort â—o parde So as hir Ioyes must ouergon So must hâ—r sorowes passen euerychon For yf her whele stynt any thyng to torne Than scaceth she anon fortune to be Now sith hyr whele by no way may soâ—ourne What woost thou of hyr mutabilite Ryght as thy self lyse she wyl do by the Or yf she be not seen at thyn helpyng Perauenture thou hast cause for
in that so hard an hert Alas I ne had brought hyr in my shert For sorow of which I wol not leue to morow But yf ye lordes rewe vpon my sorow For by that cause I sawe no tyme or now Hyr to delyuere hold I haue my pees But now or neuer yf it lyke yow I may hyr haue ryght sone douteles O help grace among al this pres Rewe on me old Caytyf here in dystres Syth I for yow haue al this heuynes Ye haue now caught fethered in prysoun Troians ynow yf your wyl be My child with one may haue redempcyoâ—â— Now for the loue of god of youre bounte One of so feele alas so yeue hym me What nede were this prayer for to werne Syth ye shal haue both toun folk as yerne On peryl of my lyf I shal not lye Appollo hath me told it feythfully I haue it found eke by astronomye By sort by angury eke trewely And dare wel say the tyme is fast by That fyre flame on al the toune shal sprede And thus shal Troy tornen in to a asshen dede For certeyne phebus neptunus bothe That maden the wallys of the toune Ben with folk of Troye now so wrothe They wyl eft bryng it to confusyon Ryght for despyte of kyng Laomedon By cause he nold paye hem her huyre The toune shal yet be set on a fuyre Tellyng his tale alwey thys old grey Humble in speche in his lokyng eke The salt teres from his eyen twey Ful fast ronne doune by eyther cheke So long he gan of socour hem byseke That for to hele hym of his syghes sore They yafe hym Anthenore withouten more But who was glad ynow but Calcas tho And of al thyng ful sone is leyde On hem that shold for the treatyce gone To bryng hem kyng Thoas Creseyde And hem for Anthenor ful ofte preyde And when Pryamus his sauf gard sent The Ambassatours ful streyghte to Troy went The cause told of theyr comyng the old Pryamus kyng ful sone in general Do here vpon his parlement to hold Of whiche the effect rehercen yow I shal The Ambassatours ben ansuerd for fynal The chaunge of prysoners al this dede Hem lyketh wele so they forth procede This Troylus was present in the place When asked was for Anthenore Creseyde For whiche ful soone chaunged he his face As he that with the wordys ful nyhe deyde But netheles he no word to it seyde With mannes hert he gan his sorowe drye Lest men shold his affectyoun aspye And ful of anguysshe of besy drede Abode what other lordes wolde sey And yf they wol graunt as god forbede TheschauÌ„ge of hir than thouÈt he thinges twey Fyrst for to saue hyr honour what wey He myght best theschaunge of hyr wythstonde Ful fast he cast how al this thyng myÈt stonde Loue hym made al prest to make hyr byde Or rather dye than she shold go But reson hym sayde on that other syde Withoute assent of hyr ne do not so Lest thow hyr wrath she than be thy foo And say that thurgh thy medlyng is y blowe Your bother loue there it was erst vnknowe For whiche he gan desyberyn to the best That though the lordes wold that she went He wold lete hem graunt what heâ— fest And telle his lady fyrst what they ment And when that she had sayd hym hyr entent Therafter wold he werk also blyue Though al the world ageyne it wolde stryue Hector whiche that ryght wel the grekes herd For Anthenore how they wolde haue Creseyde Gan it wythstonde so breuely ansuerd Syrs she nys no prysoner he seyde I not on yow who this charge leyde But on my partye may eftsone hem telle We vse not here no wymmen for to selle The noyse of the peple vp stert than al at ones As breme as blase of strawe set a fyre For infortune it wold for the nones They shold theyr confusyon desyre Hector quod they what gost may yow enspyre This woman thus to sheld and do vs lese Daune Anthenore a wrong wey now ye chese That is so wyse so bold a baroun And we haue nede of folk as men may see He is eke one of the gretest of this towne Saue Hector lete tho fantasyes be Of kyng Pryamus quod they thus seye we That al oure voys is to forgo Creseyde And to delyuere Anthenore they preyde O Iuuenal lord ful soth is thy sentence That lytel wyten folk what is to yerne That they ne fynde in hyr desyre offence For clowd of errour lete hem to dyscerne What lest is loo here ensample as yerne This folk desyre now delyueraunce Of Anthenore that brought hem to myschaunce For he was after traytour to the toune Of Troy alas they quyte hym oute to rathe O nyce world lo thy dyscrecyoun Creseyde whiche that neuer dyd hem skathe Shal now no lenger in her blysse bathe But Anthenore shal come home to towne And she shal oute thus al they sayde sowne For whiche delyuerd was by parlement For Anthenore to yeuen oute Creseyde And it pronounced by the presydent And though that Hector nay ful ofte preyde That fynally what wyght that it wythseyde It was for nought it must be shold For substaunce of the parlement it wold Departed oute of parlement echone This Troylus withoute wordes moo In to his chambre sped hym fast alone But yf it were a man of his or two The whiche he had oute fast to goo By cause he wold slepe as he seyde And hastely vpon his bed hym leyde And as in wynter leues ben y raft Eche after other tyl the tree be bare Seo that there nys but braunche bark y laft Ryght to Troylus byraft of eche welfare I bound within with bondys of care Dysposed wood oute of his wyt to breyde So sore hym sat the chaungyng of Creseyde He ryst hym vp and euery dore he shet And wyndo we eke tho this sorowful man Vppon his beddes syde doune hym set Ful lyke a dede ymage pale wan And in his brest the hepyd wo bygan Oute brest he wrought in this wyse In his wodenesse as I shal yow deuyse Ryght as the wyld bole begynneth 〈◊〉 Now here now there dartyd to the hert Aâ—d of his deth roâ—ith in compâ—â—ynyng Ryght so gan he aboute his chambre 〈◊〉 Smytyng his brest ay with his fystes 〈◊〉 His hede to wallys his lady to the ground Ful ofte 〈◊〉 swappyd hym self to confound His eyen two for pyte of his hert Out stremedyn as swyft 〈…〉 The hyâ— sobbys of his sorowful smert His speche hym reft 〈◊〉 myght he 〈◊〉 O deth alas why nyl thow do me dey A cursyd be that day whiche that 〈◊〉 Shope me to be a lyues creature But after when the fury al this rage Whiche that his hert twyst fast threst By length of tyme somwhat gan aswage Vpon his bed he
leyd hym doune to rest But tho bygan his ferrs more 〈…〉 That wonder is the body may suffyse To half this wo whiche that I yow deuyse Than seyd â—e thus fortune alas the whyle What haue I doo what haue I thus agyle How myght thou for rowth me 〈◊〉 Is there no grace shal I 〈…〉 Shal thus Creseyde for that thou 〈◊〉 Alas how mayst thou 〈◊〉 thyn hert fynde To be to me thus cruel vnkynde Hâ—ue I the not honoured al my lyâ—â—â— As thou wel woost aboue the goodes aâ— Why wylt thou thus from ioye me 〈◊〉 O Troylus what may men now â—he 〈◊〉 But wretche of wretchys 〈◊〉 of honour 〈◊〉 In to mysery whiche I wyl bewayle Creseyde alas tyl that the breth me fayle Alas fortune yf that my lyf in ioyâ— Dysplesyd had vnto thy fowâ—◠〈◊〉 Why ne â—addest thou my 〈◊〉 kyng of Troye â—yâ—â—ft the lyf or do my bretheren dye Or slayn my self that thus compleyne crye I combre world that may of no thyng serue But alwey dye and neuer fully sterue If that Creseyde alone were laft Nought rought whyderward thou woldest stere And hyr alas thou hast me beraft But euermore loo this is thy manere To 〈◊〉 a wyght lo that is to hym dere To pâ—â—ue in that thy gyreful vyolence Thus 〈◊〉 I lost there helpeth no defence O veray god O loue O god alas That knowest best myn hert al my thought What shal my sorowful lyf doo in this caas If I forgo that I so dere haue bought Syth ye Creseyde me fully haue brought In to your grace both oure hertes sealed How may ye suffre in lesse it be repellyd What shal I do whyle I may dure Ay lyue in turment in cruel peyne Thus infortune or thys dysâ—uenture 〈◊〉 as I was borne I wyl compleyne Ne neuer wil I seene shyne or reyne But euer wyl I as Edyppe is derknesse Lede my sorowful lyf lyue in dystresse O 〈◊〉 gost that erryst to fro Why nylt thow flee oute of the wofullest Body that euer myght on ground go O 〈◊〉 â—â—â—kyng in this woful nest 〈…〉 of myn hert or it brest And folowe alwey Creseyde thy lady dere Thy ryght place is now no lenger here This pandarus ful dede pale of hewe Fâ—l pytously ansuerd sayde this As wysly were it fals as it is trewe That I haue herd wote how it is O mercy god who wold haue trowed thys Who wold houe wend that in so lytel a throw Fortune our ioye wold haue ouerthrowe For in this world there nys no creature As to my dome that euer sawe ruyne Strenger than this thorugh caas or auenture But who may al eschewe or al deuyne Suche is this for thy I thus dyffyne That trust no wyght to fynd in fortune Ay propyrte hyr yeftes ben comune But telle me this why art thou now so mad To sorow thus why lyest thou now in this wise Syth thy desyre al holy thou hast had So that by ryght it ought ynow suffyse But I that neuer felt in my seruyse Or frendely chere or lokyng of an eye Late me thus wepe and wayle tyl I dye And ouer al this as thou wost wel thy self This towne is ful of ladyes al aboute And doo my dome fayrer than suche twelf As euer she was shal I fynde in some route Ye one or two withoute ony doute For thy be glad myn owne broder If she be lost we shal fynde another What god forbede alwey that suche plesaunce In one thyng were in none other wyght If one can synge another can wel daunce If this be goodly she that is glad lyght And thys is fayre that can good aryght Eche for his vertu holden is ful dere Both heroune Faucon for the Ryuere And eke as wryte Zanzys that was ful wise The newe oute chasyth ofte the old And vpon newe caas lyeth newe aduyse Thynk eke thy lyf to saue thou art hold Suche fyre by processe shal be key cold For syth it nys but casuel plesaunce Somme caas shal put oute of remembraunce For why sure is as day cometh after nyght Ye newe loue labour or other woo Or elles seyng of another wyght Done al affectyons sone ouergo And for thy part thou shalt haue one of tho To abredge with thy bytter peynes smert Absence of hyr shal dryue it oute of hert These wordes sayd he for the nones alle To helpe his frend lest he for sorow deyde For douteles to doo his wo to falle He rought not what vnthryft he seyde But Troylus that ny for sorow deyde Took lytel hede of al that euer he ment One ere it herd at that other it oute went But at the last he ansuerd sayde frend This leche craft or heled thus to be Were wel syttyng yf that I were a fâ—end To tray a wyght that trewe is vn to me I pray god lete this counseyl neuer y the But do me rather now steruen here Or I thus doo as thou woldest me lere She that I serue ywys so what thou sey To whome myn hert enhabyt is by ryght Shal haue me holy hers tyl that I deye For Pandare syth I hyr trouthe behight I wyl not be vntrewe for no wyght But as hyr man I wyl ay lyue sterue And neuer other creature serue And there thou sayst thou shalt as fayr fynde As she late be make no comparyson To creature y fourmed lyke hyr by kynde O lyef pandare in conclusyon I wyl not be of thyn oppynyoun Touchyng al thys for why I the byseche Holt thy pees thou sleest me with thy speche Thow byddest me I shold loue another Al fresshely newe late Creseyde goo It lyeth not in my power lyef broder And yf I myght yet wol I not do soo But thow canst pleye Raket to fro Neâ—le in dok out now this now that pandare Now fowle falle hyr for thy wo that care Thow farest eke by me thow pandarus As he that when a wyght is wo bygone He comyth to hym a pas sayd ryght thus Thynke not on smert thou shalt fele none Thenne must I fyrst transmue vnto a stone And reue me my passyone alle Or thow so lyghtely do my wo to falle My deth may wel oute of my brest departe Thy lyf so long may thys sorowe myne But fro my soule shal Creseydes darte Oute neuermore but doune with Proserpyne When I am dede I wol goo wone in pyne And there I wyl eternally compleyne My woo than twynned be we tweyne Thou hast here made an argument forfyne How that it shold a lesse peyne be Creseyde to for go for she was myne And lyue in case in felycyte Why gabbest thow that saydest thus to me That hym is wors that is from wele I throw Than he that neuer had of wele y know But telle me now syth ye thynk so lyght To chaungen so in loue to fro Why ne
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