From Geoffrey Chaucer's "Troilus and Criseyde", Book I, lines 820-875

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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 722-819:
Pandarus tells Troilus he has to reveal his love instead of killing himself

Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book I, lines 820-875: Troilus reveals Criseyde's name to Pandarus

820	Of that word took hede Troilus,
	And thoughte anoon what folye he was inne,
	And how that sooth him seyde Pandarus,
	That for to sleen himself mighte he not winne,
	But bothe doon unmanhod and a synne,
825	And of his deeth his lady nought to wyte;
	For of his wo, God woot, she knew ful lyte.

And with that thought he gan ful sore syke,

And seyde, `Allas! What is me best to do?'

To whom Pandare answered, `If thee lyke,

830 The best is that thou telle me thy wo;

And have my trouthe, but thou it finde so,

I be thy bote, or that it be ful longe,

To peces do me drawe, and sithen honge!'

`Ye, so thou seyst,' quod Troilus tho, `allas!

835 But, God woot, it is not the rather so;

Ful hard were it to helpen in this cas,

For wel finde I that Fortune is my fo,

Ne alle the men that ryden conne or go

May of hir cruel wheel the harm withstonde;

840 For, as hir list, she pleyeth with free and bonde.'

Quod Pandarus, `Than blamestow Fortune

For thou art wrooth, ye, now at erst I see;

Wostow nat wel that Fortune is commune

To every maner wight in som degree?

845 And yet thou hast this comfort, lo, pardee!

That, as hir joyes moten over-goon,

So mote hir sorwes passen everichon.

`For if hir wheel stinte any-thing to torne,

Than cessed she Fortune anoon to be:

850 Now, sith hir wheel by no wey may sojourne,

What wostow if hir mutabilitee

Right as thyselven list, wol doon by thee,

Or that she be not fer fro thyn helpinge?

Paraunter, thou hast cause for to singe!

855 `And therfor wostow what I thee beseche?

Lat be thy wo and turning to the grounde;

For whoso list have helping of his leche,

To him bihoveth first unwrye his wounde.

To Cerberus in helle ay be I bounde,

860 Were it for my suster, al thy sorwe,

By my wil, she sholde al be thyn to-morwe.

`Loke up, I seye, and tel me what she is

Anon, that I may goon aboute thy nede;

Knowe ich hir ought? For my love, tel me this;

865 Than wolde I hopen rather for to spede.'

Tho gan the veyne of Troilus to blede,

For he was hit, and wex al reed for shame;

`A ha!' quod Pandare, `Here biginneth game!'

And with that word he gan him for to shake,

870 And seyde, `Theef, thou shalt hir name telle.'

But tho gan sely Troilus for to quake

As though men sholde han led him into helle,

And seyde, `Allas! Of al my wo the welle,

Than is my swete fo called Criseyde!'

875 And wel nigh with the word for fere he deyde.

Next:
From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 876-1008:
Troilus and Pandarus talk about Criseyde's beauty

	And with that thought he gan ful sore syke,
	And seyde, `Allas! What is me best to do?'
	To whom Pandare answered, `If thee lyke,
830	The best is that thou telle me thy wo;
	And have my trouthe, but thou it finde so,
	I be thy bote, or that it be ful longe,
	To peces do me drawe, and sithen honge!'

	`Ye, so thou seyst,' quod Troilus tho, `allas!
835	But, God woot, it is not the rather so;
	Ful hard were it to helpen in this cas,
	For wel finde I that Fortune is my fo,
	Ne alle the men that ryden conne or go
	May of hir cruel wheel the harm withstonde;
840	For, as hir list, she pleyeth with free and bonde.'

	Quod Pandarus, `Than blamestow Fortune
	For thou art wrooth, ye, now at erst I see;
	Wostow nat wel that Fortune is commune
	To every maner wight in som degree?
845	And yet thou hast this comfort, lo, pardee!
	That, as hir joyes moten over-goon,
	So mote hir sorwes passen everichon.

	`For if hir wheel stinte any-thing to torne,
	Than cessed she Fortune anoon to be:
850	Now, sith hir wheel by no wey may sojourne,
	What wostow if hir mutabilitee
	Right as thyselven list, wol doon by thee,
	Or that she be not fer fro thyn helpinge?
	Paraunter, thou hast cause for to singe!

855	`And therfor wostow what I thee beseche?
	Lat be thy wo and turning to the grounde;
	For whoso list have helping of his leche,
	To him bihoveth first unwrye his wounde.
	To Cerberus in helle ay be I bounde,
860	Were it for my suster, al thy sorwe,
	By my wil, she sholde al be thyn to-morwe.

	`Loke up, I seye, and tel me what she is
	Anon, that I may goon aboute thy nede;
	Knowe ich hir ought? For my love, tel me this;
865	Than wolde I hopen rather for to spede.'
	Tho gan the veyne of Troilus to blede,
	For he was hit, and wex al reed for shame;
	`A ha!' quod Pandare, `Here biginneth game!'

	And with that word he gan him for to shake,
870	And seyde, `Theef, thou shalt hir name telle.'
	But tho gan sely Troilus for to quake
	As though men sholde han led him into helle,
	And seyde, `Allas! Of al my wo the welle,
	Than is my swete fo called Criseyde!'
875	And wel nigh with the word for fere he deyde.