He shof ay on, he to and fro was sent; He lettres bar whan Troilus was absent.

That never man, as in his freendes nede, Ne bar him bet than he, with-outen drede. 490

But now, paraunter, som man wayten wolde That every word, or sonde, or look, or chere Of Troilus that I rehersen sholde, In al this whyle un-to his lady dere; I trowe it were a long thing for to here; 495 Or of what wight that stant in swich disioynte, His wordes alle, or every look, to poynte.

For sothe, I have not herd it doon er this, In storye noon, ne no man here, I wene; And though I wolde I coude not, y-wis; 500 For ther was som epistel hem bitwene, That wolde, as seyth myn auctor, wel contene Neigh half this book, of which him list not wryte; How sholde I thanne a lyne of it endyte?

But to the grete effect: than sey I thus, 505 That stonding in concord and in quiete, Thise ilke two, Criseyde and Troilus, As I have told, and in this tyme swete, Save only often mighte they not mete, Ne layser have hir speches to fulfelle, 510 That it befel right as I shal yow telle.

That Pandarus, that ever dide his might Right for the fyn that I shal speke of here, As for to bringe to his hous som night His faire nece, and Troilus y-fere, 515 Wher-as at leyser al this heigh matere, Touching hir love, were at the fulle up-bounde, Hadde out of doute a tyme to it founde.

For he with greet deliberacioun Hadde every thing that her-to mighte avayle 520 Forn-cast, and put in execucioun.

And neither laft, for cost ne for travayle; Come if hem list, hem sholde no-thing fayle; And for to been in ought espyed there, That, wiste he wel, an inpossible were. 525

Dredelees, it cleer was in the wind Of every pye and every lette-game; Now al is wel, for al the world is blind In this matere, bothe fremed and tame.

This timbur is al redy up to frame; 530 Us lakketh nought but that we witen wolde A certein houre, in which she comen sholde.

And Troilus, that al this purveyaunce Knew at the fulle, and waytede on it ay, Hadde here-up-on eek made gret ordenaunce, 535 And founde his cause, and ther-to his aray, If that he were missed, night or day, Ther-whyle he was aboute this servyse, That he was goon to doon his sacrifyse,

And moste at swich a temple alone wake, 540 Answered of Appollo for to be; And first to seen the holy laurer quake, Er that Apollo spak out of the tree, To telle him next whan Grekes sholden flee, And forthy lette him no man, G.o.d forbede, 545 But preye Apollo helpen in this nede.

Now is ther litel more for to doone, But Pandare up, and shortly for to seyne, Right sone upon the chaunging of the mone, Whan lightles is the world a night or tweyne, 550 And that the welken shoop him for to reyne, He streight a-morwe un-to his nece wente; Ye han wel herd the fyn of his entente.

Whan he was come, he gan anoon to pleye As he was wont, and of him-self to Iape; 555 And fynally, he swor and gan hir seye, By this and that, she sholde him not escape, Ne lengere doon him after hir to gape; But certeynly she moste, by hir leve, Come soupen in his hous with him at eve. 560

At whiche she lough, and gan hir faste excuse, And seyde, 'It rayneth; lo, how sholde I goon?'

'Lat be,' quod he, 'ne stond not thus to muse; This moot be doon, ye shal be ther anoon.'

So at the laste her-of they felle at oon, 565 Or elles, softe he swor hir in hir ere, He nolde never come ther she were.

Sone after this, to him she gan to rowne, And asked him if Troilus were there?

He swor hir, 'Nay, for he was out of towne,' 570 And seyde, 'Nece, I pose that he were, Yow thurfte never have the more fere.

For rather than men mighte him ther aspye, Me were lever a thousand-fold to dye.'

Nought list myn auctor fully to declare 575 What that she thoughte whan he seyde so, That Troilus was out of town y-fare, As if he seyde ther-of sooth or no; But that, with-outen awayt, with him to go, She graunted him, sith he hir that bisoughte 580 And, as his nece, obeyed as hir oughte.

But nathelees, yet gan she him biseche, Al-though with him to goon it was no fere, For to be war of goosish peples speche, That dremen thinges whiche that never were, 585 And wel avyse him whom he broughte there; And seyde him, 'Eem, sin I mot on yow triste, Loke al be wel, and do now as yow liste.'

He swor hire, 'Yis, by stokkes and by stones, And by the G.o.ddes that in hevene dwelle, 590 Or elles were him levere, soule and bones, With Pluto king as depe been in h.e.l.le As Tantalus!' What sholde I more telle?

Whan al was wel, he roos and took his leve, And she to souper com, whan it was eve, 595

With a certayn of hir owene men, And with hir faire nece Antigone, And othere of hir wommen nyne or ten; But who was glad now, who, as trowe ye, But Troilus, that stood and mighte it see 600 Thurgh-out a litel windowe in a stewe, Ther he bishet, sin midnight, was in mewe,

Unwist of every wight but of Pandare?

But to the poynt; now whan that she was y-come With alle Ioye, and alle frendes fare, 605 Hir em anoon in armes hath hir nome, And after to the souper, alle and some, Whan tyme was, ful softe they hem sette; G.o.d wot, ther was no deyntee for to fette.

And after souper gonnen they to ryse, 610 At ese wel, with hertes fresshe and glade, And wel was him that coude best devyse To lyken hir, or that hir laughen made.

He song; she pleyde; he tolde tale of Wade.

But at the laste, as every thing hath ende, 615 She took hir leve, and nedes wolde wende.

But O, Fortune, executrice of wierdes, O influences of thise hevenes hye!

Soth is, that, under G.o.d, ye ben our hierdes, Though to us bestes been the causes wrye. 620 This mene I now, for she gan hoomward hye, But execut was al bisyde hir leve, At the G.o.ddes wil, for which she moste bleve.

The bente mone with hir hornes pale, Saturne, and Iove, in Cancro ioyned were, 625 That swich a rayn from hevene gan avale That every maner womman that was there Hadde of that smoky reyn a verray fere; At which Pandare tho lough, and seyde thenne, 'Now were it tyme a lady to go henne! 630

'But goode nece, if I mighte ever plese Yow any-thing, than prey I yow,' quod he, 'To doon myn herte as now so greet an ese As for to dwelle here al this night with me, For-why this is your owene hous, pardee. 635 For, by my trouthe, I sey it nought a-game, To wende as now, it were to me a shame.'

Criseyde, which that coude as muche good As half a world, tok hede of his preyere; And sin it ron, and al was on a flood, 640 She thoughte, as good chep may I dwellen here, And graunte it gladly with a freendes chere, And have a thank, as grucche and thanne abyde; For hoom to goon, it may nought wel bityde.'

'I wol,' quod she, 'myn uncle leef and dere, 645 Sin that yow list, it skile is to be so; I am right glad with yow to dwellen here; I seyde but a-game, I wolde go.'

'Y-wis, graunt mercy, nece!' quod he tho; 'Were it a game or no, soth for to telle, 650 Now am I glad, sin that yow list to dwelle.'

Thus al is wel; but tho bigan aright The newe Ioye, and al the feste agayn; But Pandarus, if goodly hadde he might, He wolde han hyed hir to bedde fayn, 655 And seyde, 'Lord, this is an huge rayn!

This were a weder for to slepen inne; And that I rede us sonE to biginne.

'And nece, woot ye wher I wol yow leye, For that we shul not liggen fer asonder, 660 And for ye neither shullen, dar I seye, Heren noise of reynes nor of thondre?

By G.o.d, right in my lyte closet yonder.

And I wol in that outer hous allone Be wardeyn of your wommen everichone. 665

'And in this middel chaumbre that ye see Shal youre wommen slepen wel and softe; And ther I seyde shal your-selve be; And if ye liggen wel to-night, com ofte, And careth not what weder is on-lofte. 670 The wyn anon, and whan so that yow leste, So go we slepe, I trowe it be the beste.'

Ther nis no more, but here-after sone, The voyde dronke, and travers drawe anon, Gan every wight, that hadde nought to done 675 More in the place, out of the chaumber gon.

And ever-mo so sternelich it ron, And blew ther-with so wonderliche loude, That wel neigh no man heren other coude.

Tho Pandarus, hir eem, right as him oughte, 680 With women swiche as were hir most aboute, Ful glad un-to hir beddes syde hir broughte, And toke his leve, and gan ful lowe loute, And seyde, 'Here at this closet-dore with-oute, Right over-thwart, your wommen liggen alle, 685 That, whom yow list of hem, ye may here calle.'

So whan that she was in the closet leyd, And alle hir wommen forth by ordenaunce A-bedde weren, ther as I have seyd, There was no more to skippen nor to traunce, 690 But boden go to bedde, with mischaunce, If any wight was steringe any-where, And late hem slepe that a-bedde were.

But Pandarus, that wel coude eche a del The olde daunce, and every poynt ther-inne, 695 Whan that he sey that alle thing was wel, He thoughte he wolde up-on his werk biginne, And gan the stewe-dore al softe un-pinne; And stille as stoon, with-outen lenger lette, By Troilus a-doun right he him sette. 700

And, shortly to the poynt right for to gon, Of al this werk he tolde him word and ende, And seyde, 'Make thee redy right anon, For thou shalt in-to hevene blisse wende.'

'Now blisful Venus, thou me grace sende,' 705 Quod Troilus, 'for never yet no nede Hadde I er now, ne halvendel the drede.'

Quod Pandarus, 'Ne drede thee never a del, For it shal been right as thou wilt desyre; So thryve I, this night shal I make it wel, 710 Or casten al the gruwel in the fyre.'

'Yit blisful Venus, this night thou me enspyre,'

Quod Troilus, 'as wis as I thee serve, And ever bet and bet shal, til I sterve.

'And if I hadde, O Venus ful of murthe, 715 Aspectes badde of Mars or of Saturne, Or thou combust or let were in my birthe, Thy fader prey al thilke harm disturne Of grace, and that I glad ayein may turne, For love of him thou lovedest in the shawe, 720 I mene Adoon, that with the boor was slawe.

'O Iove eek, for the love of faire Europe, The whiche in forme of bole awey thou fette; Now help, O Mars, thou with thy blody cope, For love of Cipris, thou me nought ne lette; 725 O Phebus, thenk whan Dane hir-selven shette Under the bark, and laurer wex for drede, Yet for hir love, O help now at this nede!

'Mercurie, for the love of Hierse eke, For which Pallas was with Aglauros wrooth, 730 Now help, and eek Diane, I thee biseke That this viage be not to thee looth.

O fatal sustren, which, er any clooth Me shapen was, my destene me sponne, So helpeth to this werk that is bi-gonne!' 735

Quod Pandarus, 'Thou wrecched mouses herte, Art thou agast so that she wol thee byte?

Why, don this furred cloke up-on thy sherte, And folowe me, for I wol have the wyte; But byd, and lat me go bifore a lyte.' 740 And with that word he gan un-do a trappe, And Troilus he broughte in by the lappe.

The sterne wind so loude gan to route That no wight other noyse mighte here; And they that layen at the dore with-oute, 745 Ful sykerly they slepten alle y-fere; And Pandarus, with a ful sobre chere, Goth to the dore anon with-outen lette, Ther-as they laye, and softely it shette.

And as he com ayeinward prively, 750 His nece awook, and asked, 'Who goth there?'

'My dere nece,' quod he, 'it am I; Ne wondreth not, ne have of it no fere;'