Wol he have pleynte or teres, er I wende?

I have y-nowe, if he ther-after sende!'

124. She was right swich to seen in hir visage

As is that wight that men on bere binde;

Hir face, lyk of Paradys the image,

Was al y-chaunged in another kinde.

The pleye, the laughtre men was wont to finde

In hir, and eek hir Ioyes everychone,

Ben fled, and thus lyth now Criseyde allone.

125. Aboute hir eyen two a purpre ring

Bi-trent, in sothfast tokninge of hir peyne,

That to biholde it was a dedly thing,

For which Pandare mighte not restreyne

The teres from his eyen for to reyne.

But nathelees, as he best mighte, he seyde

From Troilus thise wordes to Criseyde.

126. 'Lo, nece, I trowe ye han herd al how

The king, with othere lordes, for the beste,

Hath mad eschaunge of Antenor and yow,

That cause is of this sorwe and this unreste.

But how this cas doth Troilus moleste,

That may non erthely mannes tonge seye;

For verray wo his wit is al aweye.

127. For which we han so sorwed, he and I,

That in-to litel bothe it hadde us slawe;

But thurgh my conseil this day, fynally,

He somwhat is fro weping now with-drawe.

And semeth me that he desyreth fawe

With yow to been al night, for to devyse

Remede in this, if ther were any wyse.

128. This, short and pleyne, theffect of my message,

As ferforth as my wit can comprehende.

For ye, that been of torment in swich rage,

May to no long prologe as now entende;

And her-upon ye may answere him sende.

And, for the love of god, my nece dere,

So leef this wo er Troilus be here.'

129. 'Gret is my wo,' quod she, and sighte sore,

As she that feleth dedly sharp distresse;

'But yet to me his sorwe is muchel more,

That love him bet than he him-self, I gesse.

Allas! for me hath he swich hevinesse?

Can he for me so pitously compleyne?

Y-wis, this sorwe doubleth al my peyne.

130. Grevous to me, god wot, is for to twinne,'

Quod she, 'but yet it hardere is to me

To seen that sorwe which that he is inne;

For wel wot I, it wol my bane be;

And deye I wol in certayn,' tho quod she;

'But bidde him come, er deeth, that thus me threteth,

Dryve out that goost, which in myn herte beteth.'

131. Thise wordes seyd, she on hir armes two

Fil gruf, and gan to wepe pitously.

Quod Pandarus, 'allas! why do ye so,

Syn wel ye wot the tyme is faste by,

That he shal come? Arys up hastely,

That he yow nat biwopen thus ne finde,

But ye wol han him wood out of his minde!

132. For wiste he that ye ferde in this manere,

He wolde him-selve slee; and if I wende

To han this fare, he sholde not come here

For al the good that Pryam may despende.

For to what fyn he wolde anoon pretende,

That knowe I wel; and for-thy yet I seye,

So leef this sorwe, or platly he wol deye.

133. And shapeth yow his sorwe for to abregge,

And nought encresse, leve nece swete;

Beth rather to him cause of flat than egge,

And with som wysdom ye his sorwes bete.

What helpeth it to wepen ful a strete,

Or though ye bothe in salte teres dreynte?

Bet is a tyme of cure ay than of pleynte.

134. I mene thus; whan I him hider bringe,

Sin ye ben wyse, and bothe of oon assent,

So shapeth how distourbe your goinge,

Or come ayen, sone after ye be went.

Wommen ben wyse in short avysement;

And lat sen how your wit shal now avayle;

And what that I may helpe, it shal not fayle.'

135. 'Go,' quod Criseyde, 'and uncle, trewely,

I shal don al my might, me to restreyne

From weping in his sight, and bisily,

Him for to glade, I shal don al my peyne,

And in myn herte seken every veyne;

If to this soor ther may be founden salve,

It shal not lakken, certain, on myn halve.'

136. Goth Pandarus, and Troilus he soughte,

Til in a temple he fond him allone,

As he that of his lyf no lenger roughte;

But to the pitouse goddes everichone

Ful tendrely he preyde, and made his mone,

To doon him sone out of this world to pace;

For wel he thoughte ther was non other grace.

137. And shortly, al the sothe for to seye,

He was so fallen in despeyr that day,

That outrely he shoop him for to deye.

For right thus was his argument alwey:

He seyde, he nas but loren, waylawey!

'For al that comth, comth by necessitee;

Thus to be lorn, it is my destinee.

138. For certaynly, this wot I wel,' he seyde,

That for-sight of divyne purveyaunce

Hath seyn alwey me to for-gon Criseyde,

Sin god seeth every thing, out of doutaunce,

And hem desponeth, thourgh his ordenaunce,

In hir merytes sothly for to be,

As they shul comen by predestinee.

139. But nathelees, allas! whom shal I leve?

For ther ben grete clerkes many oon,

That destinee thorugh argumentes preve;

And som men seyn that nedely ther is noon;

But that free chois is yeven us everichoon.

O, welaway! so sleye arn clerkes olde,

That I not whos opinion I may holde.

140. For som men seyn, if god seth al biforn,

Ne god may not deceyved ben, pardee,

Than moot it fallen, though men hadde it sworn,

That purveyaunce hath seyn bifore to be.

Wherfor I seye, that from eterne if he

Hath wist biforn our thought eek as our dede,

We have no free chois, as these clerkes rede.

141. For other thought nor other dede also

Might never be, but swich as purveyaunce,

Which may not ben deceyved never-mo,

Hath feled biforn, with-outen ignoraunce.

For if ther mighte been a variaunce

To wrythen out fro goddes purveyinge,

Ther nere no prescience of thing cominge;

142. But it were rather an opinioun

Uncerteyn, and no stedfast forseinge;

And certes, that were an abusioun,

That god shuld han no parfit cleer witinge

More than we men that han doutous weninge.

But swich an errour up-on god to gesse

Were fals and foul, and wikked corsednesse.

143. Eek this is an opinioun of somme

That han hir top ful heighe and smothe y-shore;

They seyn right thus, that thing is not to come

For that the prescience hath seyn bifore

That it shal come; but they seyn, that therfore

That it shal come, therfore the purveyaunce

Wot it biforn with-outen ignoraunce;

144. And in this manere this necessitee

Retorneth in his part contrarie agayn.

For needfully bihoveth it not to be

That thilke thinges fallen in certayn

That ben purveyed; but nedely, as they seyn,

Bihoveth it that thinges, whiche that falle,

That they in certayn ben purveyed alle.

145. I mene as though I laboured me in this,

To enqueren which thing cause of which thing be;

As whether that the prescience of god is

The certayn cause of the necessitee

Of thinges that to comen been, pardee;

Or if necessitee of thing cominge

Be cause certeyn of the purveyinge.

146. But now ne enforce I me nat in shewinge

How the ordre of causes stant; but wel wot I,

That it bihoveth that the bifallinge

Of thinges wist biforen certeynly

Be necessarie, al seme it not ther-by

That prescience put falling necessaire

To thing to come, al falle it foule or faire.

147. For if ther sit a man yond on a see,

Than by necessitee bihoveth it

That, certes, thyn opinioun soth be,

That wenest or coniectest that he sit;

And ferther-over now ayenward yit,

Lo, right so it is of the part contrarie,

As thus; (now herkne, for I wol not tarie):

148. I seye, that if the opinioun of thee

Be sooth, for that he sit, than seye I this,

That he mot sitten by necessitee;

And thus necessitee in either is.

For in him nede of sitting is, y-wis,

And in thee nede of sooth; and thus, forsothe,

Ther moot necessitee ben in yow bothe.

149. But thou mayst seyn, the man sit not therfore,

That thyn opinion of sitting soth is;

But rather, for the man sit ther bifore,

Therfore is thyn opinion sooth, y-wis.

And I seye, though the cause of sooth of this

Comth of his sitting, yet necessitee

Is entrechaunged, bothe in him and thee.

150. Thus on this same wyse, out of doutaunce,

I may wel maken, as it semeth me,

My resoninge of goddes purveyaunce,

And of the thinges that to comen be;

By whiche reson men may wel y-see,

That thilke thinges that in erthe falle,

That by necessitee they comen alle.

151. For al-though that, for thing shal come, y-wis,

Therfore is it purveyed, certaynly,

Nat that it comth for it purveyed is:

Yet nathelees, bihoveth it nedfully,

That thing to come be purveyed, trewely;

Or elles, thinges that purveyed be,

That they bityden by necessitee.

152. And this suffyseth right y-now, certeyn,

For to destroye our free chois every del.—

But now is this abusion to seyn,

That fallinge of the thinges temporel

Is cause of goddes prescience eternel.

Now trewely, that is a fals sentence,

That thing to come sholde cause his prescience.

153. What mighte I wene, and I hadde swich a thought,

But that god purveyth thing that is to come

For that it is to come, and elles nought?

So mighte I wene that thinges alle and some,

That whylom been bifalle and over-come,

Ben cause of thilke sovereyn purveyaunce,

That for-wot al with-outen ignoraunce.

154. And over al this, yet seye I more herto,

That right as whan I woot ther is a thing,

Y-wis, that thing mot nedefully be so;

Eek right so, whan I woot a thing coming,

So mot it come; and thus the bifalling

Of thinges that ben wist bifore the tyde,

They mowe not been eschewed on no syde.'

155. Than seyde he thus, 'almighty Iove in trone,

That wost of al this thing the soothfastnesse,

Rewe on my sorwe, or do me deye sone,

Or bring Criseyde and me fro this distresse.'

And whyl he was in al this hevinesse,

Disputinge with him-self in this matere,

Com Pandare in, and seyde as ye may here.

156. 'O mighty god,' quod Pandarus, 'in trone,

Ey! who seigh ever a wys man faren so?

Why, Troilus, what thenkestow to done?

Hastow swich lust to been thyn owene fo?

What, parde, yet is not Criseyde a-go!

Why lust thee so thy-self for-doon for drede,

That in thyn heed thyn eyen semen dede?

157. Hastow not lived many a yeer biforn

With-outen hir, and ferd ful wel at ese?

Artow for hir and for non other born?

Hath kinde thee wroughte al-only hir to plese?

Lat be, and thenk right thus in thy disese.

That, in the dees right as ther fallen chaunces,

Right so in love, ther come and goon plesaunces.

158. And yet this is a wonder most of alle,

Why thou thus sorwest, sin thou nost not yit,

Touching hir goinge, how that it shal falle,

Ne if she can hir-self distorben it.

Thou hast not yet assayed al hir wit.

A man may al by tyme his nekke bede

Whan it shal of, and sorwen at the nede.

159. For-thy take hede of that that I shal seye;

I have with hir y-spoke and longe y-be,

So as accorded was bitwixe us tweye.

And ever-mo me thinketh thus, that she

Hath som-what in hir hertes prevetee,

Wher-with she can, if I shal right arede,

Distorbe al this, of which thou art in drede.

160. For which my counseil is, whan it is night,

Thou to hir go, and make of this an ende;

And blisful Iuno, thourgh hir grete mighte,

Shal, as I hope, hir grace un-to us sende.

Myn herte seyth, "certeyn, she shal not wende;"

And for-thy put thyn herte a whyle in reste;

And hold this purpos, for it is the beste.'

161. This Troilus answerde, and sighte sore,

'Thou seyst right wel, and I wil do right so;'

And what him liste, he seyde un-to it more.

And whan that it was tyme for to go,

Ful prevely him-self, with-outen mo,

Un-to hir com, as he was wont to done;

And how they wroughte, I shal yow telle sone.

162. Soth is, that whan they gonne first to mete,

So gan the peyne hir hertes for to twiste,

That neither of hem other mighte grete,

But hem in armes toke and after kiste.

The lasse wofulle of hem bothe niste

Wher that he was, ne mighte o word out-bringe,

As I seyde erst, for wo and for sobbinge.

163. Tho woful teres that they leten falle

As bittre weren, out of teres kinde,

For peyne, as is ligne aloës or galle.

So bittre teres weep nought, as I finde,

The woful Myrra through the bark and rinde.

That in this world ther nis so hard an herte,

That nolde han rewed on hir peynes smerte.

164. But whan hir woful wery gostes tweyne

Retorned been ther-as hem oughte dwelle,

And that som-what to wayken gan the peyne

By lengthe of pleynte, and ebben gan the welle

Of hire teres, and the herte unswelle,

With broken voys, al hoors for-shright, Criseyde

To Troilus thise ilke wordes seyde:

165. 'O Iove, I deye, and mercy I beseche!

Help, Troilus!' and ther-with-al hir face

Upon his brest she leyde, and loste speche;

Hir woful spirit from his propre place,

Right with the word, alwey up poynt to pace.

And thus she lyth with hewes pale and grene,

That whylom fresh and fairest was to sene.

166. This Troilus, that on hir gan biholde,

Clepinge hir name, (and she lay as for deed,

With-oute answere, and felte hir limes colde,

Hir eyen throwen upward to hir heed),

This sorwful man can now noon other reed,

But ofte tyme hir colde mouth he kiste;

Wher him was wo, god and him-self it wiste!

167. He rist him up, and long streight he hir leyde;

For signe of lyf, for ought he can or may,

Can he noon finde in no-thing on Criseyde,

For which his song ful ofte is 'weylaway!'

But whan he saugh that specheles she lay,

With sorwful voys, and herte of blisse al bare,

He seyde how she was fro this world y-fare!

168. So after that he longe hadde hir compleyned,

His hondes wrong, and seyde that was to seye,

And with his teres salte hir brest bireyned,

He gan tho teris wypen of ful dreye,

And pitously gan for the soule preye,

And seyde, 'O lord, that set art in thy trone,

Rewe eek on me, for I shal folwe hir sone!'

169. She cold was and with-outen sentement,

For aught he woot, for breeth ne felte he noon;

And this was him a preignant argument

That she was forth out of this world agoon;

And whan he seigh ther was non other woon,

He gan hir limes dresse in swich manere

As men don hem that shul be leyd on bere.

170. And after this, with sterne and cruel herte,

His swerd a-noon out of his shethe he twighte,

Him-self to sleen, how sore that him smerte,

So that his sowle hir sowle folwen mighte,

Ther-as the doom of Mynos wolde it dighte;

Sin love and cruel Fortune it ne wolde,

That in this world he lenger liven sholde.

171. Thanne seyde he thus, fulfild of heigh desdayn,

'O cruel Iove, and thou, Fortune adverse,

This al and som, that falsly have ye slayn

Criseyde, and sin ye may do me no werse,

Fy on your might and werkes so diverse!

Thus cowardly ye shul me never winne;

Ther shal no deeth me fro my lady twinne.

172. For I this world, sin ye han slayn hir thus,

Wol lete, and folowe hir spirit lowe or hye;

Shal never lover seyn that Troilus

Dar not, for fere, with his lady dye;

For certeyn, I wol bere hir companye.

But sin ye wol not suffre us liven here,

Yet suffreth that our soules ben y-fere.

173. And thou, citee, whiche that I leve in wo,

And thou, Pryam, and bretheren al y-fere,

And thou, my moder, farewel! for I go;

And Attropos, make redy thou my bere!

And thou, Criseyde, o swete herte dere,

Receyve now my spirit!' wolde he seye,

With swerd at herte, al redy for to deye.

174. But as god wolde, of swough ther-with she abreyde,

And gan to syke, and 'Troilus' she cryde;

And he answerde, 'lady myn Criseyde,

Live ye yet?' and leet his swerd doun glyde.

'Ye, herte myn, that thanked be Cupyde!'

Quod she, and ther-with-al she sore sighte;

And he bigan to glade hir as he mighte;

175. Took hir in armes two, and kiste hir ofte,

And hir to glade he dide al his entente;

For which hir goost, that flikered ay on-lofte,

In-to hir woful herte ayein it wente.

But at the laste, as that hir eyen glente

A-syde, anoon she gan his swerd aspye,

As it lay bare, and gan for fere crye,

176. And asked him, why he it hadde out-drawe?

And Troilus anoon the cause hir tolde,

And how himself ther-with he wolde have slawe.

For which Criseyde up-on him gan biholde,

And gan him in hir armes faste folde,

And seyde, 'O mercy, god, lo, which a dede!

Allas! how neigh we were bothe dede!

177. Thanne if I ne hadde spoken, as grace was,

Ye wolde han slayn your-self anoon?' quod she.

'Ye, douteless;' and she answerde, 'allas!

For, by that ilke lord that made me,

I nolde a forlong wey on-lyve han be,

After your deeth, to han be crowned quene

Of al the lond the sonne on shyneth shene.

178. But with this selve swerd, which that here is,

My-selve I wolde have slayn!'—quod she tho;

'But ho, for we han right y-now of this,

And late us ryse and streight to bedde go;

And therë lat vs speken of our wo.

For, by the morter which that I see brenne,

Knowe I ful wel that day is not fer henne.'

179. Whan they were in hir bedde, in armes folde,

Nought was it lyk tho nightes here-biforn;

For pitously ech other gan biholde,

As they that hadden al hir blisse y-lorn,

Biwaylinge ay the day that they were born.

Til at the last this sorwful wight Criseyde

To Troilus these ilke wordes seyde:—

180. 'Lo, herte myn, wel wot ye this,' quod she,

'That if a wight alwey his wo compleyne,

And seketh nought how holpen for to be,

It nis but folye and encrees of peyne;

And sin that here assembled be we tweyne

To finde bote of wo that we ben inne,

It were al tyme sone to biginne.

181. I am a womman, as ful wel ye woot,

And as I am avysed sodeynly,

So wol I telle yow, whyl it is hoot.

Me thinketh thus, that neither ye nor I

Oughte half this wo to make skilfully.

For there is art y-now for to redresse

That yet is mis, and sleen this hevinesse.

182. Sooth is, the wo, the whiche that we ben inne,

For ought I woot, for no-thing elles is

But for the cause that we sholden twinne.

Considered al, ther nis no-more amis.

But what is thanne a remede un-to this,

But that we shape us sone for to mete?

This al and som, my dere herte swete.

183. Now that I shal wel bringen it aboute

To come ayein, sone after that I go,

Ther-of am I no maner thing in doute.

For dredeles, with-inne a wouke or two,

I shal ben here; and, that it may be so