And seyde, 'lord, is there swich blisse among

These lovers, as they conne faire endyte?'

'Ye, wis,' quod fresh Antigone the whyte,

'For alle the folk that han or been on lyve

Ne conne wel the blisse of love discryve.

128. But wene ye that every wrecche woot

The parfit blisse of love? why, nay, y-wis;

They wenen al be love, if oon be hoot;

Do wey, do wey, they woot no-thing of this!

Men mosten axe at seyntes if it is

Aught fair in hevene; why? for they conne telle;

And axen fendes, is it foul in helle.'

129. Criseyde un-to that purpos nought answerde,

But seyde, 'y-wis, it wol be night as faste.'

But every word which that she of hir herde,

She gan to prenten in hir herte faste;

And ay gan love hir lasse for to agaste

Than it dide erst, and sinken in hir herte,

That she wex somwhat able to converte.

130. The dayes honour, and the hevenes yë,

The nightes fo, al this clepe I the sonne,

Gan westren faste, and dounward for to wrye,

As he that hadde his dayes cours y-ronne;

And whyte thinges wexen dimme and donne

For lak of light, and sterres for to appere,

That she and al hir folk in wente y-fere.

131. So whan it lyked hir to goon to reste,

And voyded weren they that voyden oughte,

She seyde, that to slepe wel hir leste.

Hir wommen sone til hir bed hir broughte.

Whan al was hust, than lay she stille, and thoughte

Of al this thing the manere and the wyse.

Reherce it nedeth nought, for ye ben wyse.

132. A nightingale, upon a cedre grene,

Under the chambre-wal ther as she lay,

Ful loude sang ayein the mone shene,

Paraunter, in his briddes wyse, a lay

Of love, that made hir herte fresh and gay.

That herkned she so longe in good entente,

Til at the laste the dede sleep hir hente.

133. And, as she sleep, anoon-right tho hir mette,

How that an egle, fethered whyt as boon,

Under hir brest his longe clawes sette,

And out hir herte he rente, and that a-noon,

And dide his herte in-to hir brest to goon,

Of which she nought agroos ne no-thing smerte,

And forth he fleigh, with herte left for herte.

134. Now lat hir slepe, and we our tales holde

Of Troilus, that is to paleys riden,

Fro the scarmuch, of the whiche I tolde,

And in his chambre sit, and hath abiden

Til two or three of his messages yeden

For Pandarus, and soughten him ful faste,

Til they him founde, and broughte him at the laste.

135. This Pandarus com leping in at ones

And seide thus, 'who hath ben wel y-bete

To-day with swerdes, and with slinge-stones,

But Troilus, that hath caught him an hete?'

And gan to Iape, and seyde, 'lord, so ye swete!

But rys, and lat us soupe and go to reste;'

And he answerde him, 'do we as thee leste.'

136. With al the haste goodly that they mighte,

They spedde hem fro the souper un-to bedde;

And every wight out at the dore him dighte,

And wher him list upon his wey he spedde;

But Troilus, that thoughte his herte bledde

For wo, til that he herde som tydinge,

He seyde, 'freend, shal I now wepe or singe?'

137. Quod Pandarus, 'ly stille, and lat me slepe,

And don thyn hood, thy nedes spedde be;

And chese, if thou wolt singe or daunce or lepe;

At shorte wordes, thow shall trowe me.—

Sire, my nece wol do wel by thee,

And love thee best, by god and by my trouthe,

But lak of pursuit make it in thy slouthe.

138. For thus ferforth I have thy work bigonne,

Fro day to day, til this day, by the morwe,

Hir love of freendship have I to thee wonne,

And also hath she leyd hir feyth to borwe.

Algate a foot is hameled of thy sorwe.'

What sholde I lenger sermon of it holde?

As ye han herd bifore, al he him tolde.

139. But right as floures, thorugh the colde of night

Y-closed, stoupen on hir stalkes lowe,

Redressen hem a-yein the sonne bright,

And spreden on hir kinde cours by rowe;

Right so gan tho his eyen up to throwe

This Troilus, and seyde, 'O Venus dere,

Thy might, thy grace, y-heried be it here!'

140. And to Pandare he held up bothe his hondes,

And seyde, 'lord, al thyn be that I have;

For I am hool, al brosten been my bondes;

A thousand Troians who so that me yave,

Eche after other, god so wis me save,

Ne mighte me so gladen; lo, myn herte,

It spredeth so for Ioye, it wol to-sterte!

141. But lord, how shal I doon, how shal I liven?

Whan shal I next my dere herte see?

How shal this longe tyme a-wey be driven,

Til that thou be ayein at hir fro me?

Thou mayst answere, "a-byd, a-byd," but he

That hangeth by the nekke, sooth to seyne,

In grete disese abydeth for the peyne.'

142. 'Al esily, now, for the love of Marte,'

Quod Pandarus, 'for every thing hath tyme;

So longe abyd til that the night departe;

For al so siker as thow lyst here by me,

And god toforn, I wol be there at pryme,

And for thy werk somwhat as I shal seye,

Or on som other wight this charge leye.

143. For pardee, god wot, I have ever yit

Ben redy thee to serve, and to this night

Have I nought fayned, but emforth my wit

Don al thy lust, and shal with al my might.

Do now as I shal seye, and fare a-right;

And if thou nilt, wyte al thy-self thy care,

On me is nought along thyn yvel fare.

144. I woot wel that thow wyser art than I

A thousand fold, but if I were as thou,

God helpe me so, as I wolde outrely,

Right of myn owene hond, wryte hir right now

A lettre, in which I wolde hir tellen how

I ferde amis, and hir beseche of routhe;

Now help thy-self, and leve it not for slouthe.

145. And I my-self shal ther-with to hir goon;

And whan thou wost that I am with hir there,

Worth thou up-on a courser right anoon,

Ye, hardily, right in thy beste gere,

And ryd forth by the place, as nought ne were,

And thou shalt finde us, if I may, sittinge

At som windowe, in-to the strete lokinge.

146. And if thee list, than maystow us saluwe,

And up-on me makë thy contenaunce;

But, by thy lyf, be war and faste eschuwe

To tarien ought, god shilde us fro mischaunce!

Ryd forth thy wey, and hold thy governaunce;

And we shal speke of thee som-what, I trowe,

Whan thou art goon, to do thyne eres glowe!

147. Touching thy lettre, thou art wys y-nough,

I woot thow nilt it digneliche endyte;

As make it with thise argumentes tough;

Ne scrivenish or craftily thou it wryte;

Beblotte it with thy teres eek a lyte;

And if thou wryte a goodly word al softe,

Though it be good, reherce it not to ofte.

148. For though the beste harpour upon lyve

Wolde on the beste souned Ioly harpe

That ever was, with alle his fingres fyve,

Touche ay o streng, or ay o werbul harpe,

Were his nayles poynted never so sharpe,

It shulde maken every wight to dulle,

To here his glee, and of his strokes fulle.

149. Ne Iompre eek no discordaunt thing y-fere,

As thus, to usen termes of phisyk;

In loves termes, hold of thy matere

The forme alwey, and do that it be lyk;

For if a peyntour wolde peynte a pyk

With asses feet, and hede it as an ape,

It cordeth nought; so nere it but a Iape.'

150. This counseyl lyked wel to Troilus;

But, as a dreedful lover, he seyde this:—

'Allas, my dere brother Pandarus,

I am ashamed for to wryte, y-wis,

Lest of myn innocence I seyde a-mis,

Or that she nolde it for despyt receyve;

Thanne were I deed, ther mighte it no-thing weyve.'

151. To that Pandare answerde, 'if thee lest,

Do that I seye, and lat me therwith goon;

For by that lord that formed est and west,

I hope of it to bringe answere anoon

Right of hir hond, and if that thou nilt noon,

Lat be; and sory mote he been his lyve,

Ayeins thy lust that helpeth thee to thryve.'

152. Quod Troilus, 'Depardieux, I assente;

Sin that thee list, I will aryse and wryte;

And blisful god preye ich, with good entente,

The vyage, and the lettre I shal endyte,

So spede it; and thou, Minerva, the whyte,

Yif thou me wit my lettre to devyse:'

And sette him doun, and wroot right in this wyse.—

153. First he gan hir his righte lady calle,

His hertes lyf, his lust, his sorwes leche,

His blisse, and eek this othere termes alle,

That in swich cas these loveres alle seche;

And in ful humble wyse, as in his speche,

He gan him recomaunde un-to hir grace;

To telle al how, it axeth muchel space.

154. And after this, ful lowly he hir prayde

To be nought wrooth, though he, of his folye,

So hardy was to hir to wryte, and seyde,

That love it made, or elles moste he dye,

And pitously gan mercy for to crye;

And after that he seyde, and ley ful loude,

Him-self was litel worth, and lesse he coude;

155. And that she sholde han his conning excused,

That litel was, and eek he dredde hir so,

And his unworthinesse he ay acused;

And after that, than gan he telle his wo;

But that was endeles, with-outen ho;

And seyde, he wolde in trouthe alwey him holde;—

And radde it over, and gan the lettre folde.

156. And with his salte teres gan he bathe

The ruby in his signet, and it sette

Upon the wex deliverliche and rathe;

Ther-with a thousand tymes, er he lette,

He kiste tho the lettre that he shette,

And seyde, 'lettre, a blisful destenee

Thee shapen is, my lady shal thee see.'

157. This Pandare took the lettre, and that by tyme

A-morwe, and to his neces paleys sterte,

And faste he swoor, that it was passed pryme,

And gan to Iape, and seyde, 'y-wis, myn herte,

So fresh it is, al-though it sore smerte,

I may not slepe never a Mayes morwe;

I have a Ioly wo, a lusty sorwe.'

158. Criseyde, whan that she hir uncle herde,

With dreedful herte, and desirous to here

The cause of his cominge, thus answerde,

'Now by your feyth, myn uncle,' quod she, 'dere,

What maner windes gydeth yow now here?

Tel us your Ioly wo and your penaunce,

How ferforth be ye put in loves daunce.'

159. 'By god,' quod he, 'I hoppe alwey bihinde!'

And she to-laugh, it thoughte hir herte breste.

Quod Pandarus, 'loke alwey that ye finde

Game in myn hood, but herkneth, if yow leste;

Ther is right now come in-to toune a geste,

A Greek espye, and telleth newe thinges,

For which come I to telle yow tydinges.

160. Into the gardin go we, and we shal here,

Al prevely, of this a long sermoun.'

With that they wenten arm in arm y-fere

In-to the gardin from the chaumbre doun.

And whan that he so fer was that the soun

Of that he speke, no man here mighte,

He seyde hir thus, and out the lettre plighte,

161. 'Lo, he that is al hoolly youres free

Him recomaundeth lowly to your grace,

And sent to you this lettre here by me;

Avyseth you on it, whan ye han space,

And of som goodly answere yow purchace;

Or, helpe me god, so pleynly for to seyne,

He may not longe liven for his peyne.'

162. Ful dredfully tho gan she stonde stille,

And took it nought, but al hir humble chere

Gan for to chaunge, and seyde, 'scrit ne bille,

For love of god, that toucheth swich matere,

Ne bring me noon; and also, uncle dere,

To myn estat have more reward, I preye,

Than to his lust; what sholde I more seye?

163. And loketh now if this be resonable,

And letteth nought, for favour ne for slouthe,

To seyn a sooth; now were it covenable

To myn estat, by god, and by your trouthe,

To taken it, or to han of him routhe,

In harming of my-self or in repreve?

Ber it a-yein, for him that ye on leve!'

164. This Pandarus gan on hir for to stare,

And seyde, 'now is this the grettest wonder

That ever I sey! lat be this nyce fare!

To deethe mote I smiten be with thonder,

If, for the citee which that stondeth yonder,

Wolde I a lettre un-to yow bringe or take

To harm of yow; what list yow thus it make?

165. But thus ye faren, wel neigh alle and some,

That he that most desireth yow to serve,

Of him ye recche leest wher he bicome,

And whether that he live or elles sterve.

But for al that that ever I may deserve,

Refuse it nought,' quod he, and hente hir faste,

And in hir bosom the lettre doun he thraste,

166. And seyde hir, 'now cast it away anoon,

That folk may seen and gauren on us tweye.'

Quod she, 'I can abyde til they be goon,'

And gan to smyle, and seyde him, 'eem, I preye,

Swich answere as yow list your-self purveye,

For trewely I nil no lettre wryte.'

'No? than wol I,' quod he, 'so ye endyte.'

167. Therwith she lough, and seyde, 'go we dyne.'

And he gan at him-self to iape faste,

And seyde, 'nece, I have so greet a pyne

For love, that every other day I faste'—

And gan his beste Iapes forth to caste;

And made hir so to laughe at his folye,

That she for laughter wende for to dye.

168. And whan that she was comen in-to halle,

'Now, eem,' quod she, 'we wol go dyne anoon;'

And gan some of hir women to hir calle,

And streyght in-to hir chaumbre gan she goon;

But of hir besinesses, this was oon

A-monges othere thinges, out of drede,

Ful prively this lettre for to rede;

169. Avysed word by word in every lyne,

And fond no lak, she thoughte he coude good;

And up it putte, and went hir in to dyne.

And Pandarus, that in a study stood,

Er he was war, she took him by the hood,

And seyde, 'ye were caught er that ye wiste;'

'I vouche sauf,' quod he, 'do what yow liste.'

170. Tho wesshen they, and sette hem doun and ete;

And after noon ful sleyly Pandarus

Gan drawe him to the window next the strete,

And seyde, 'nece, who hath arayed thus

The yonder hous, that stant afor-yeyn us?'

'Which hous?' quod she, and gan for to biholde,

And knew it wel, and whos it was him tolde,

171. And fillen forth in speche of thinges smale,

And seten in the window bothe tweye.

Whan Pandarus saw tyme un-to his tale,

And saw wel that hir folk were alle aweye,

'Now, nece myn, tel on,' quod he, 'I seye,

How lyketh yow the lettre that ye woot?

Can he ther-on? for, by my trouthe, I noot.'

172. Therwith al rosy hewed tho wex she,

And gan to humme, and seyde, 'so I trowe.'

'Aquyte him wel, for goddes love,' quod he;

'My-self to medes wol the lettre sowe,'

And held his hondes up, and sat on knowe,

'Now, goode nece, be it never so lyte,

Yif me the labour, it to sowe and plyte.'

173. 'Ye, for I can so wryte,' quod she tho;

'And eek I noot what I sholde to him seye.'

'Nay, nece,' quod Pandare, 'sey not so;

Yet at the leste thanketh him, I preye,

Of his good wil, and doth him not to deye.

Now for the love of me, my nece dere,

Refuseth not at this tyme my preyere.'

174. 'Depar-dieux,' quod she, 'god leve al be wel!

God helpe me so, this is the firste lettre

That ever I wroot, ye, al or any del.'

And in-to a closet, for to avyse hir bettre,

She wente allone, and gan hir herte unfettre

Out of disdaynes prison but a lyte;

And sette hir doun, and gan a lettre wryte,

175. Of which to telle in short is myn entente

Theffect, as fer as I can understonde:—

She thonked him of al that he wel mente

Towardes hir, but holden him in honde

She nolde nought, ne make hir-selven bonde

In love, but as his suster, him to plese,

She wolde fayn, to doon his herte an ese.

176. She shette it, and to Pandarus gan goon,

There as he sat and loked in-to strete,

And doun she sette hir by him on a stoon

Of Iaspre, up-on a quisshin gold y-bete,

And seyde, 'as wisly helpe me god the grete,

I never dide a thing with more peyne

Than wryte this, to which ye me constreyne;'

177. And took it him: he thonked hir and seyde,

'God woot, of thing ful ofte looth bigonne

Cometh ende good; and nece myn, Criseyde,

That ye to him of hard now ben y-wonne

Oughte he be glad, by god and yonder sonne!

For-why men seyth, "impressiounes lighte

Ful lightly been ay redy to the flighte."

178. But ye han pleyed tyraunt neigh to longe,

And hard was it your herte for to grave;

Now stint, that ye no longer on it honge,

Al wolde ye the forme of daunger save.

But hasteth yow to doon him Ioye have;

For trusteth wel, to longe y-doon hardnesse

Causeth despyt ful often, for distresse.'

179. And right as they declamed this matere,

Lo, Troilus, right at the stretes ende,

Com ryding with his tenthe some y-fere,

Al softely, and thiderward gan bende

Ther-as they sete, as was his wey to wende

To paleys-ward; and Pandare him aspyde,

And seyde, 'nece, y-see who cometh here ryde!

180. O flee not in, he seeth us, I suppose;

Lest he may thinke that ye him eschuwe.'

'Nay, nay,' quod she, and wex as reed as rose.

With that he gan hir humbly to saluwe,

With dreedful chere, and ofte his hewes muwe;

And up his look debonairly he caste,

And bekked on Pandare, and forth he paste.

181. God woot if he sat on his hors a-right,

Or goodly was beseyn, that ilke day!

God woot wher he was lyk a manly knight!

What sholde I drecche, or telle of his aray?

Criseyde, which that alle these thinges say,

To telle in short, hir lyked al y-fere,

His persone, his aray, his look, his chere,

182. His goodly manere and his gentillesse,

So wel, that never, sith that she was born,

Ne hadde she swich routhe of his distresse;

And how-so she hath hard ben her-biforn,

To god hope I, she hath now caught a thorn.

She shal not pulle it out this nexte wyke;

God sende mo swich thornes on to pyke!

183. Pandare, which that stood hir faste by,

Felte iren hoot, and he bigan to smyte,

And seyde, 'nece, I pray yow hertely,

Tel me that I shal axen yow a lyte.

A womman, that were of his deeth to wyte,

With-outen his gilt, but for hir lakked routhe,

Were it wel doon?' Quod she, 'nay, by my trouthe!'

184. 'God helpe me so,' quod he, 'ye sey me sooth.

Ye felen wel your-self that I not lye;

Lo, yond he rit!' Quod she, 'ye, so he dooth.'

'Wel,' quod Pandare, 'as I have told yow thrye,

Lat be your nyce shame and your folye,

And spek with him in esing of his herte;

Lat nycetee not do yow bothe smerte.'

185. But ther-on was to heven and to done;

Considered al thing, it may not be;

And why, for shame; and it were eek to sone

To graunten him so greet a libertee.

'For playnly hir entente,' as seyde she,

Was for to love him unwist, if she mighte,

And guerdon him with no-thing but with sighte.'

186. But Pandarus thoughte, 'it shal not be so,

If that I may; this nyce opinioun

Shal not be holden fully yeres two.'

What sholde I make of this a long sermoun?

He moste assente on that conclusioun

As for the tyme; and whan that it was eve,

And al was wel, he roos and took his leve.

187. And on his wey ful faste homward he spedde,

And right for Ioye he felte his herte daunce;

And Troilus he fond alone a-bedde,

That lay as dooth these loveres, in a traunce,

Bitwixen hope and derk desesperaunce.

But Pandarus, right at his in-cominge,

He song, as who seyth, 'lo! sumwhat I bringe.'