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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 323-399:
Troilus falls in love with Criseyde
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Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book I, lines 400-469: Canticus Troili: Troilus falls deeper in love with Criseyde

            Canticus Troili

400`If no love is, O God, what fele I so?
And if love is, what thing and whiche is he!
If love be good, from whennes comth my wo?
If it be wikke, a wonder thinketh me,
Whenne every torment and adversitee
405That cometh of him, may to me savory thinke;
For ay thurst I, the more that I it drinke.

`And if that at myn owene lust I brenne,
Fro whennes cometh my wailing and my pleynte?
If harme agree me, wherto pleyne I thenne?
410I noot, ne why unwery that I feynte.
O quike deeth, O swete harm so queynte,
How may of thee in me swich quantitee,
But if that I consente that it be?

`And if that I consente, I wrongfully
415Compleyne, y-wis; thus possed to and fro,
Al sterelees withinne a boot am I
A-mid the see, bitwixen windes two,
That in contrarie stonden ever-mo.
Allas! what is this wonder maladye?
420For hete of cold, for cold of hete, I deye.'

And to the god of love thus seyde he
With pitous voys, `O lord, now youres is
My spirit, which that oughte youres be.
Yow thanke I, lord, that han me brought to this;
425But whether goddesse or womman, y-wis,
She be, I noot, which that ye do me serve;
But as hir man I wole ay live and sterve.

`Ye stonden in hire eyen mightily,
As in a place unto youre vertu digne;
430Wherfore, lord, if my servyse or I
May lyke yow, so beth to me benigne;
For myn estat royal here I resigne
Into hir hond, and with ful humble chere
Bicome hir man, as to my lady dere.'

435In him ne deyned sparen blood royal
The fyr of love, wherfro God me blesse,
Ne him forbar in no degree, for al
His vertu or his excellent prowesse;
But held him as his thral lowe in distresse,
440And brende him so in sondry wyse ay newe,
That sixty tyme a day he loste his hewe.

So muche, day by day, his owene thought,
For lust to hir, gan quiken and encrese,
That every other charge he sette at nought;
445For-thy ful ofte, his hote fyr to cese,
To seen hir goodly look he gan to prese;
For therby to ben esed wel he wende,
And ay the ner he was, the more he brende.

For ay the ner the fyr, the hotter is,
450This, trowe I, knoweth al this companye.
But were he fer or neer, I dar seye this,
By night or day, for wisdom or folye,
His herte, which that is his brestes ye,
Was ay on hir, that fairer was to sene
455Than ever were Eleyne or Polixene.

Eek of the day ther passed nought an houre
That to him-self a thousand tyme he seyde,
`Good goodly, to whom serve I and laboure,
As I best can, now wolde god, Criseyde,
460Ye wolden on me rewe er that I deyde!
My dere herte, allas! myn hele and hewe
And lyf is lost, but ye wole on me rewe.'

Alle othere dredes weren from him fledde,
Both of the assege and his savacioun;
465Ne in him desyr noon othere fownes bredde
But argumentes to his conclusioun,
That she on him wolde han compassioun,
And he to be hir man, whyl he may dure;
Lo, here his lyf, and from the deeth his cure!

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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 470-539:
Troilus becomes lovesick