Now lat hem rede, and turne we anoon To Pandarus, that gan ful faste prye 1710 That al was wel, and out he gan to goon In-to the grete chambre, and that in hye, And seyde, 'G.o.d save al this companye!

Com, nece myn; my lady quene Eleyne Abydeth yow, and eek my lordes tweyne. 1715

'Rys, take with yow your nece Antigone, Or whom yow list, or no fors, hardily; The lesse prees, the bet; com forth with me, And loke that ye thonke humblely Hem alle three, and, whan ye may goodly 1720 Your tyme y-see, taketh of hem your leve, Lest we to longe his restes him bireve.'

Al innocent of Pandarus entente, Quod tho Criseyde, 'Go we, uncle dere'; And arm in arm inward with him she wente, 1725 Avysed wel hir wordes and hir chere; And Pandarus, in ernestful manere, Seyde, 'Alle folk, for G.o.ddes love, I preye, Stinteth right here, and softely yow pleye.

'Aviseth yow what folk ben here with-inne, 1730 And in what plyt oon is, G.o.d him amende!

And inward thus ful softely biginne; Nece, I conjure and heighly yow defende, On his half, which that sowle us alle sende, And in the vertue of corounes tweyne, 1735 Slee nought this man, that hath for yow this peyne!

'Fy on the devel! Thenk which oon he is, And in what plyt he lyth; com of anoon; Thenk al swich taried tyd, but lost it nis!

That wol ye bothe seyn, whan ye ben oon. 1740 Secoundelich, ther yet devyneth noon Up-on yow two; come of now, if ye conne; Whyl folk is blent, lo, al the tyme is wonne!

'In t.i.tering, and pursuite, and delayes, The folk devyne at wagginge of a stree; 1745 And though ye wolde han after merye dayes, Than dar ye nought, and why? For she, and she Spak swich a word; thus loked he, and he; Lest tyme I loste, I dar not with yow dele; Com of therfore, and bringeth him to hele.' 1750

But now to yow, ye lovers that ben here, Was Troilus nought in a cankedort, That lay, and mighte whispringe of hem here, And thoughte, 'O lord, right now renneth my sort Fully to dye, or han anoon comfort'; 1755 And was the firste tyme he shulde hir preye Of love; O mighty G.o.d, what shal he seye?

Explicit Secundus Liber.

BOOK III. Incipit prohemium tercii libri.

O blisful light of whiche the bemes clere 1 Adorneth al the thridde hevene faire!

O sonnes lief, O Ioves doughter dere, Plesaunce of love, O goodly debonaire, In gentil hertes ay redy to repaire! 5 O verray cause of hele and of gladnesse, Y-heried be thy might and thy goodnesse!

In hevene and h.e.l.le, in erthe and salte see Is felt thy might, if that I wel descerne; As man, brid, best, fish, herbe and grene tree 10 Thee fele in tymes with vapour eterne.

G.o.d loveth, and to love wol nought werne; And in this world no lyves creature, With-outen love, is worth, or may endure.

Ye Ioves first to thilke effectes glade, 15 Thorugh which that thinges liven alle and be, Comeveden, and amorous him made On mortal thing, and as yow list, ay ye Yeve him in love ese or adversitee; And in a thousand formes doun him sente 20 For love in erthe, and whom yow liste, he hente.

Ye fierse Mars apeysen of his ire, And, as yow list, ye maken hertes digne; Algates, hem that ye wol sette a-fyre, They dreden shame, and vices they resigne; 25 Ye do hem corteys be, fresshe and benigne, And hye or lowe, after a wight entendeth; The Ioyes that he hath, your might him sendeth.

Ye holden regne and hous in unitee; Ye soothfast cause of frendship been also; 30 Ye knowe al thilke covered qualitee Of thinges which that folk on wondren so, Whan they can not construe how it may io, She loveth him, or why he loveth here; As why this fish, and nought that, comth to were. 35

Ye folk a lawe han set in universe, And this knowe I by hem that loveres be, That who-so stryveth with yow hath the werse: Now, lady bright, for thy benignitee, At reverence of hem that serven thee, 40 Whos clerk I am, so techeth me devyse Som Ioye of that is felt in thy servyse.

Ye in my naked herte sentement Inhelde, and do me shewe of thy swetnesse. -- Caliope, thy vois be now present, 45 For now is nede; sestow not my destresse, How I mot telle anon-right the gladnesse Of Troilus, to Venus heryinge?

To which gladnes, who nede hath, G.o.d him bringe!

Explicit prohemium Tercii Libri.

Incipit Liber Tercius.

Lay al this mene whyle Troilus, 50 Recordinge his lessoun in this manere, 'Ma fey!' thought he, 'Thus wole I seye and thus; Thus wole I pleyne unto my lady dere; That word is good, and this shal be my chere; This nil I not foryeten in no wyse.' 55 G.o.d leve him werken as he can devyse!

And, lord, so that his herte gan to quappe, Heringe hir come, and shorte for to syke!

And Pandarus, that ledde hir by the lappe, Com ner, and gan in at the curtin pyke, 60 And seyde, 'G.o.d do bote on alle syke!

See, who is here yow comen to visyte; Lo, here is she that is your deeth to wyte.'

Ther-with it semed as he wepte almost; 'A ha,' quod Troilus so rewfully, 65 'Wher me be wo, O mighty G.o.d, thow wost!

Who is al there? I se nought trewely.'

'Sire,' quod Criseyde, 'it is Pandare and I.'

'Ye, swete herte? Allas, I may nought ryse To knele, and do yow honour in som wyse.' 70

And dressede him upward, and she right tho Gan bothe here hondes softe upon him leye, 'O, for the love of G.o.d, do ye not so To me,' quod she, 'Ey! What is this to seye?

Sire, come am I to yow for causes tweye; 75 First, yow to thonke, and of your lordshipe eke Continuance I wolde yow biseke.'

This Troilus, that herde his lady preye Of lordship him, wex neither quik ne deed, Ne mighte a word for shame to it seye, 80 Al-though men sholde smyten of his heed.

But lord, so he wex sodeinliche reed, And sire, his lesson, that he wende conne, To preyen hir, is thurgh his wit y-ronne.

Cryseyde al this aspyede wel y-nough, 85 For she was wys, and lovede him never-the-la.s.se, Al nere he malapert, or made it tough, Or was to bold, to singe a fool a ma.s.se.

But whan his shame gan somwhat to pa.s.se, His resons, as I may my rymes holde, 90 I yow wole telle, as techen bokes olde.

In chaunged vois, right for his verray drede, Which vois eek quook, and ther-to his manere Goodly abayst, and now his hewes rede, Now pale, un-to Criseyde, his lady dere, 95 With look doun cast and humble yolden chere, Lo, the alderfirste word that him asterte Was, twyes, 'Mercy, mercy, swete herte!'

And stinte a whyl, and whan he mighte out-bringe, The nexte word was, 'G.o.d wot, for I have, 100 As feyfully as I have had konninge, Ben youres, also G.o.d so my sowle save; And shal til that I, woful wight, be grave.

And though I dar ne can un-to yow pleyne, Y-wis, I suffre nought the la.s.se peyne. 105

'Thus muche as now, O wommanliche wyf, I may out-bringe, and if this yow displese, That shal I wreke upon myn owne lyf Right sone, I trowe, and doon your herte an ese, If with my deeth your herte I may apese. 110 But sin that ye han herd me som-what seye, Now recche I never how sone that I deye.'

Ther-with his manly sorwe to biholde, It mighte han maad an herte of stoon to rewe; And Pandare weep as he to watre wolde, 115 And poked ever his nece newe and newe, And seyde, 'Wo bigon ben hertes trewe!

For love of G.o.d, make of this thing an ende, Or slee us bothe at ones, er that ye wende.'

'I? What?' quod she, 'By G.o.d and by my trouthe, 120 I noot nought what ye wilne that I seye.'

'I? What?' quod he, 'That ye han on him routhe, For G.o.ddes love, and doth him nought to deye.'

'Now thanne thus,' quod she, 'I wolde him preye To telle me the fyn of his entente; 125 Yet wist I never wel what that he mente.'

'What that I mene, O swete herte dere?'

Quod Troilus, 'O goodly, fresshe free!

That, with the stremes of your eyen clere, Ye wolde som-tyme freendly on me see, 130 And thanne agreen that I may ben he, With-oute braunche of vyce on any wyse, In trouthe alwey to doon yow my servyse,

'As to my lady right and chief resort, With al my wit and al my diligence, 135 And I to han, right as yow list, comfort, Under your yerde, egal to myn offence, As deeth, if that I breke your defence; And that ye deigne me so muche honoure, Me to comaunden ought in any houre. 140

'And I to ben your verray humble trewe, Secret, and in my paynes pacient, And ever-mo desire freshly newe, To serven, and been y-lyke ay diligent, And, with good herte, al holly your talent 145 Receyven wel, how sore that me smerte, Lo, this mene I, myn owene swete herte.'

Quod Pandarus, 'Lo, here an hard request, And resonable, a lady for to werne!

Now, nece myn, by natal Ioves fest, 150 Were I a G.o.d, ye sholde sterve as yerne, That heren wel, this man wol no-thing yerne But your honour, and seen him almost sterve, And been so looth to suffren him yow serve.'

With that she gan hir eyen on him caste 155 Ful esily, and ful debonairly, Avysing hir, and hyed not to faste With never a word, but seyde him softely, 'Myn honour sauf, I wol wel trewely, And in swich forme as he can now devyse, 160 Receyven him fully to my servyse,

'Biseching him, for G.o.ddes love, that he Wolde, in honour of trouthe and gentilesse, As I wel mene, eek mene wel to me, And myn honour, with wit and besinesse 165 Ay kepe; and if I may don him gladnesse, From hennes-forth, y-wis, I nil not feyne: Now beeth al hool; no lenger ye ne pleyne.

'But nathelees, this warne I yow,' quod she, 'A kinges sone al-though ye be, y-wis, 170 Ye shal na-more have soverainetee Of me in love, than right in that cas is; Ne I nil forbere, if that ye doon a-mis, To wrathen yow; and whyl that ye me serve, Cherycen yow right after ye deserve. 175

'And shortly, dere herte and al my knight, Beth glad, and draweth yow to l.u.s.tinesse, And I shal trewely, with al my might, Your bittre tornen al in-to swetenesse.

If I be she that may yow do gladnesse, 180 For every wo ye shal recovere a blisse'; And him in armes took, and gan him kisse.