From Geoffrey Chaucer's "Troilus and Criseyde", Book I, lines 267-322

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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 155-266:
The Troians go to the temple

Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book I, lines 267-322: Troilus sees Criseyde

	Withinne the temple he wente him forth pleyinge,
	This Troilus, of every wight aboute,
	On this lady and now on that lokinge,
270	Wher-so she were of toune, or of withoute:
	And upon cas bifel, that thorugh a route
	His eye perced, and so depe it wente,
	Til on Criseyde it smoot, and ther it stente.

And sodeynly he wax therwith astoned,

275 And gan hire bet biholde in thrifty wyse:

`O mercy, God!' thoughte he, `wher hastow woned,

That art so fair and goodly to devyse?'

Therwith his herte gan to sprede and ryse,

And softe sighed, lest men mighte him here,

280 And caughte ayein his firste pleyinge chere.

She nas nat with the leste of hir stature,

But alle hir limes so wel answeringe

Weren to womanhode, that creature

Was neuer lasse mannish in seminge.

285 And eek the pure wyse of here meninge

Shewede wel, that men might in hir gesse

Honour, estat, and wommanly noblesse.

To Troilus right wonder wel withalle

Gan for to lyke hir meninge and hir chere,

290 Which somdel deynous was, for she leet falle

Hir look a lite a-side, in swich manere,

Ascaunces, `What! May I not stonden here?'

And after that hir loking gan she lighte,

That never thoughte him seen so good a sighte.

295 And of hir look in him ther gan to quiken

So greet desir, and swich affeccioun,

That in his herte botme gan to stiken

Of hir his fixe and depe impressioun:

And though he erst hadde poured up and doun,

300 He was tho glad his hornes in to shrinke;

Unnethes wiste he how to loke or winke.

Lo, he that leet him-selven so konninge,

And scorned hem that loves peynes dryen,

Was ful unwar that love hadde his dwellinge

305 Withinne the subtile stremes of hir yen;

That sodeynly him thoughte he felte dyen,

Right with hir look, the spirit in his herte;

Blissed be love, that thus can folk converte!

She, this in blak, likinge to Troylus,

310 Over alle thyng, he stood for to biholde;

Ne his desir, ne wherfor he stood thus,

He neither chere made, ne worde tolde;

But from afer, his maner for to holde,

On other thing his look somtyme he caste,

315 And eft on hir, whyl that servyse laste.

And after this, not fulliche al awhaped,

Out of the temple al esiliche he wente,

Repentinge him that he hadde ever yjaped

Of loves folk, lest fully the descente

320 Of scorn fille on him-self; but, what he mente,

Lest it were wist on any maner syde,

His wo he gan dissimulen and hyde.

Next:
From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 323-399:
Troilus falls in love with Criseyde

	And sodeynly he wax therwith astoned,
275	And gan hire bet biholde in thrifty wyse:
	`O mercy, God!' thoughte he, `wher hastow woned,
	That art so fair and goodly to devyse?'
	Therwith his herte gan to sprede and ryse,
	And softe sighed, lest men mighte him here,
280	And caughte ayein his firste pleyinge chere.

	She nas nat with the leste of hir stature,
	But alle hir limes so wel answeringe
	Weren to womanhode, that creature
	Was neuer lasse mannish in seminge.
285	And eek the pure wyse of here meninge
	Shewede wel, that men might in hir gesse
	Honour, estat, and wommanly noblesse.

	To Troilus right wonder wel withalle
	Gan for to lyke hir meninge and hir chere,
290	Which somdel deynous was, for she leet falle
	Hir look a lite a-side, in swich manere,
	Ascaunces, `What! May I not stonden here?'
	And after that hir loking gan she lighte,
	That never thoughte him seen so good a sighte.

295	And of hir look in him ther gan to quiken
	So greet desir, and swich affeccioun,
	That in his herte botme gan to stiken
	Of hir his fixe and depe impressioun:
	And though he erst hadde poured up and doun,
300	He was tho glad his hornes in to shrinke;
	Unnethes wiste he how to loke or winke.

	Lo, he that leet him-selven so konninge,
	And scorned hem that loves peynes dryen,
	Was ful unwar that love hadde his dwellinge
305	Withinne the subtile stremes of hir yen;
	That sodeynly him thoughte he felte dyen,
	Right with hir look, the spirit in his herte;
	Blissed be love, that thus can folk converte!

	She, this in blak, likinge to Troylus,
310	Over alle thyng, he stood for to biholde;
	Ne his desir, ne wherfor he stood thus,
	He neither chere made, ne worde tolde;
	But from afer, his maner for to holde,
	On other thing his look somtyme he caste,
315	And eft on hir, whyl that servyse laste.

	And after this, not fulliche al awhaped,
	Out of the temple al esiliche he wente,
	Repentinge him that he hadde ever yjaped
	Of loves folk, lest fully the descente
320	Of scorn fille on him-self; but, what he mente,
	Lest it were wist on any maner syde,
	His wo he gan dissimulen and hyde.