'For in this world ther liveth lady noon, If that ye were untrewe, as G.o.d defende!

That so bitraysed were or wo bigoon As I, that alle trouthe in yow entende.

And douteles, if that ich other wende, 1650 I nere but deed; and er ye cause finde, For G.o.ddes love, so beth me not unkinde.'

To this answerde Troilus and seyde, 'Now G.o.d, to whom ther nis no cause y-wrye, Me glade, as wis I never un-to Criseyde, 1655 Sin thilke day I saw hir first with ye, Was fals, ne never shal til that I dye.

At shorte wordes, wel ye may me leve; I can no more, it shal be founde at preve.'

'Graunt mercy, goode myn, y-wis,' quod she, 1660 'And blisful Venus lat me never sterve Er I may stonde of plesaunce in degree To quyte him wel, that so wel can deserve; And whyl that G.o.d my wit wol me conserve, I shal so doon, so trewe I have yow founde, 1665 That ay honour to me-ward shal rebounde.

'For trusteth wel, that your estat royal Ne veyn delyt, nor only worthinesse Of yow in werre, or torney marcial, Ne pompe, array, n.o.bley, or eek richesse, 1670 Ne made me to rewe on your distresse; But moral vertue, grounded upon trouthe, That was the cause I first hadde on yow routhe!

'Eek gentil herte and manhod that ye hadde, And that ye hadde, as me thoughte, in despyt 1675 Every thing that souned in-to badde, As rudenesse and poeplish appetyt; And that your reson brydled your delyt, This made, aboven every creature, That I was your, and shal, whyl I may dure. 1680

'And this may lengthe of yeres not for-do, Ne remuable fortune deface; But Iuppiter, that of his might may do The sorwful to be glad, so yeve us grace, Er nightes ten, to meten in this place, 1685 So that it may your herte and myn suffyse; And fareth now wel, for tyme is that ye ryse.'

And after that they longe y-pleyned hadde, And ofte y-kist, and streite in armes folde, The day gan ryse, and Troilus him cladde, 1690 And rewfulliche his lady gan biholde, As he that felte dethes cares colde, And to hir grace he gan him recomaunde; Wher him was wo, this holde I no demaunde.

For mannes heed imaginen ne can, 1695 Ne entendement considere, ne tonge telle The cruel peynes of this sorwful man, That pa.s.sen every torment doun in h.e.l.le.

For whan he saugh that she ne mighte dwelle, Which that his soule out of his herte rente, 1700 With-outen more, out of the chaumbre he wente.

Explicit Liber Quartus.

BOOK V. Incipit Liber Quintus.

Aprochen gan the fatal destinee That Ioves hath in disposicioun, And to yow, angry Parcas, sustren three, Committeth, to don execucioun; For which Criseyde moste out of the toun, 5 And Troilus shal dwelle forth in pyne Til Lachesis his threed no lenger twyne. --

The golden-tressed Phebus heighe on-lofte Thryes hadde alle with his bemes shene The snowes molte, and Zephirus as ofte 10 Y-brought ayein the tendre leves grene, Sin that the sone of Ecuba the quene Bigan to love hir first, for whom his sorwe Was al, that she departe sholde a-morwe.

Ful redy was at pryme Dyomede, 15 Criseyde un-to the Grekes ost to lede, For sorwe of which she felt hir herte blede, As she that niste what was best to rede.

And trewely, as men in bokes rede, Men wiste never womman han the care, 20 Ne was so looth out of a toun to fare.

This Troilus, with-outen reed or lore, As man that hath his Ioyes eek forlore, Was waytinge on his lady ever-more As she that was the soothfast crop and more 25 Of al his l.u.s.t, or Ioyes here-tofore.

But Troilus, now farewel al thy Ioye, For shaltow never seen hir eft in Troye!

Soth is, that whyl he bood in this manere, He gan his wo ful manly for to hyde. 30 That wel unnethe it seen was in his chere; But at the yate ther she sholde oute ryde With certeyn folk, he hoved hir tabyde, So wo bigoon, al wolde he nought him pleyne, That on his hors unnethe he sat for peyne. 35

For ire he quook, so gan his herte gnawe, Whan Diomede on horse gan him dresse, And seyde un-to him-self this ilke sawe, 'Allas,' quod he, 'thus foul a wrecchednesse Why suffre ich it, why nil ich it redresse? 40 Were it not bet at ones for to dye Than ever-more in langour thus to drye?

'Why nil I make at ones riche and pore To have y-nough to done, er that she go?

Why nil I bringe al Troye upon a rore? 45 Why nil I sleen this Diomede also?

Why nil I rather with a man or two Stele hir a-way? Why wol I this endure?

Why nil I helpen to myn owene cure?'

But why he nolde doon so fel a dede, 50 That shal I seyn, and why him liste it spare; He hadde in herte alweyes a maner drede, Lest that Criseyde, in rumour of this fare, Sholde han ben slayn; lo, this was al his care.

And ellis, certeyn, as I seyde yore, 55 He hadde it doon, with-outen wordes more.

Criseyde, whan she redy was to ryde, Ful sorwfully she sighte, and seyde 'Allas!'

But forth she moot, for ought that may bityde, And forth she rit ful sorwfully a pas. 60 Ther nis non other remedie in this cas.

What wonder is though that hir sore smerte, Whan she forgoth hir owene swete herte?

This Troilus, in wyse of curteisye, With hauke on hond, and with an huge route 65 Of knightes, rood and dide hir companye, Pa.s.singe al the valey fer with-oute, And ferther wolde han riden, out of doute, Ful fayn, and wo was him to goon so sone; But torne he moste, and it was eek to done. 70

And right with that was Antenor y-come Out of the Grekes ost, and every wight Was of it glad, and seyde he was wel-come.

And Troilus, al nere his herte light, He peyned him with al his fulle might 75 Him to with-holde of wepinge at the leste, And Antenor he kiste, and made feste.

And ther-with-al he moste his leve take, And caste his eye upon hir pitously, And neer he rood, his cause for to make, 80 To take hir by the honde al sobrely.

And lord! So she gan wepen tendrely!

And he ful softe and sleighly gan hir seye, 'Now hold your day, and dooth me not to deye.'

With that his courser torned he a-boute 85 With face pale, and un-to Diomede No word he spak, ne noon of al his route; Of which the sone of Tydeus took hede, As he that coude more than the crede In swich a craft, and by the reyne hir hente; 90 And Troilus to Troye homwarde he wente.

This Diomede, that ladde hir by the brydel, Whan that he saw the folk of Troye aweye, Thoughte, 'Al my labour shal not been on ydel, If that I may, for somwhat shal I seye, 95 For at the worste it may yet shorte our weye.

I have herd seyd, eek tymes twyes twelve, "He is a fool that wol for-yete him-selve."'

But natheles this thoughte he wel ynough, 'That certaynly I am aboute nought, 100 If that I speke of love, or make it tough; For douteles, if she have in hir thought Him that I gesse, he may not been y-brought So sone awey; but I shal finde a mene, That she not wite as yet shal what I mene.' 105

This Diomede, as he that coude his good, Whan this was doon, gan fallen forth in speche Of this and that, and asked why she stood In swich disese, and gan hir eek biseche, That if that he encrese mighte or eche 110 With any thing hir ese, that she sholde Comaunde it him, and seyde he doon it wolde.

For trewely he swoor hir, as a knight, That ther nas thing with whiche he mighte hir plese, That he nolde doon his peyne and al his might 115 To doon it, for to doon hir herte an ese.

And preyede hir, she wolde hir sorwe apese, And seyde, 'Y-wis, we Grekes con have Ioye To honouren yow, as wel as folk of Troye.'

He seyde eek thus, 'I woot, yow thinketh straunge, 120 No wonder is, for it is to yow newe, Thaqueintaunce of these Troianis to chaunge, For folk of Grece, that ye never knewe.

But wolde never G.o.d but-if as trewe A Greek ye shulde among us alle finde 125 As any Troian is, and eek as kinde.

'And by the cause I swoor yow right, lo, now, To been your freend, and helply, to my might, And for that more aqueintaunce eek of yow Have ich had than another straunger wight, 130 So fro this forth, I pray yow, day and night, Comaundeth me, how sore that me smerte, To doon al that may lyke un-to your herte;

'And that ye me wolde as your brother trete, And taketh not my frendship in despyt; 135 And though your sorwes be for thinges grete, Noot I not why, but out of more respyt, Myn herte hath for to amende it greet delyt.

And if I may your harmes not redresse, I am right sory for your hevinesse, 140

'And though ye Troians with us Grekes wrothe Han many a day be, alwey yet, pardee, O G.o.d of love in sooth we serven bothe.

And, for the love of G.o.d, my lady free, Whom so ye hate, as beth not wroth with me. 145 For trewely, ther can no wight yow serve, That half so looth your wraththe wolde deserve.

'And nere it that we been so neigh the tente Of Calkas, which that seen us bothe may, I wolde of this yow telle al myn entente; 150 But this enseled til another day.

Yeve me your hond, I am, and shal ben ay, G.o.d help me so, whyl that my lyf may dure, Your owene aboven every creature.

'Thus seyde I never er now to womman born; 155 For G.o.d myn herte as wisly glade so, I lovede never womman here-biforn As paramours, ne never shal no mo.

And, for the love of G.o.d, beth not my fo; Al can I not to yow, my lady dere, 160 Compleyne aright, for I am yet to lere.

'And wondreth not, myn owene lady bright, Though that I speke of love to you thus blyve; For I have herd or this of many a wight, Hath loved thing he never saugh his lyve. 165 Eek I am not of power for to stryve Ayens the G.o.d of love, but him obeye I wol alwey, and mercy I yow preye.

'Ther been so worthy knightes in this place, And ye so fair, that everich of hem alle 170 Wol peynen him to stonden in your grace.

But mighte me so fair a grace falle, That ye me for your servaunt wolde calle, So lowly ne so trewely you serve Nil noon of hem, as I shal, til I sterve.' 175

Criseide un-to that purpos lyte answerde, As she that was with sorwe oppressed so That, in effect, she nought his tales herde, But here and there, now here a word or two.

Hir thoughte hir sorwful herte brast a-two. 180 For whan she gan hir fader fer aspye, Wel neigh doun of hir hors she gan to sye.