Previous: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 400-469: Canticus Troili: Troilus falls deeper in love with Criseyde

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	But for non hate he to the Grekes hadde,
	Ne also for the rescous of the toun,
	Ne made him thus in armes for to madde,
480	But only, lo, for this conclusioun,
	To lyken hir the bet for his renoun;
	Fro day to day in armes so he spedde,
	That alle the Grekes as the deeth him dredde.

	And fro this forth tho refte him love his sleep,
485	And made his mete his foo; and eek his sorwe
	Gan multiplie, that, whoso toke keep,
	It shewed in his hewe, bothe eve and morwe;
	Therfor a title he gan him for to borwe
	Of other syknesse, lest of him men wende
490	That the hote fyr of love him brende,

	And seyde, he hadde a fever and ferde amis;
	But how it was, certayn, can I not seye,
	If that his lady understood not this,
	Or feyned hir she niste, oon of the tweye;
495	But wel I rede that, by no maner weye,
	Ne semed it as that she of him roughte,
	Nor of his peyne, or whatsoever he thoughte.

	But than fel to this Troilus swich wo,
	That he was wel neigh wood; for ay his drede
500	Was this, that she som wight had loved so,
	That never of him she wolde han taken hede;
	For whiche him thoughte he felte his herte blede.
	Ne of his wo ne dorste he not biginne
	To tellen it, for al this world to winne.

505	But whanne he hadde a space fro his care,
	Thus to himself ful ofte he gan to pleyne;
	He sayde, `O fool, now art thou in the snare,
	That whilom japedest at loves peyne;
	Now artow hent, now gnaw thyn owene cheyne;
510	Thou were ay wont eche lovere reprehende
	Of thing fro which thou canst thee nat defende.

	`What wol now every lover seyn of thee,
	If this be wist, but ever in thyn absence
	Laughen in scorn, and seyn, `Lo, ther gooth he,
515	That is the man of so gret sapience,
	That held us lovers leest in reverence!
	Now, thanked be God, he may goon in the daunce
	Of hem that Love list febly for to avaunce!'

	`But, O thou woful Troilus, god wolde,
520	Syn thou most loven thurgh thi destinee,
	That thow beset were on swich oon that sholde
	Knowe al thy wo, al lakkede hir pitee:
	But al so cold in love, towardes thee,
	Thy lady is, as frost in winter mone,
525	And thou fordoon, as snow in fyr is sone.'

	`God wolde I were aryved in the port
	Of deth, to which my sorwe wil me lede!
	A, lord, to me it were a gret comfort;
	Than were I quit of languisshing in drede.
530	For by myn hidde sorwe y-blowe on brede
	I shal byjaped been a thousand tyme
	More than that fool of whos folye men ryme.

	`But now help God, and ye, swete, for whom
	I pleyne, y-caught, ye, never wight so faste!
535	O mercy, dere herte, and help me from
	The deeth, for I, whyl that my lyf may laste,
	More than myself wol love yow to my laste.
	And with som freendly look gladeth me, swete,
	Though never more thing ye me bihete!'

Next: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 540-581: Pandarus visits his friend Troilus