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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book II, lines 50-77:
Pandarus goes to his niece Criseyde
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Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book II, lines 78-147: Pandarus meets Criseyde

Whan he was come un-to his neces place,
`Wher is my lady?' to hir folk seyde he;
80And they him tolde; and he forth in gan pace,
And fond, two othere ladyes sete and she,
With-inne a paved parlour; and they three
Herden a mayden reden hem the geste
Of the Sege of Thebes, whyl hem leste.

85Quod Pandarus, `Madame, God yow see,
With al your book and al the companye!'
`Ey, uncle myn, welcome ywis,' quod she,
And up she roos, and by the hond in hye
She took him faste, and seyde, `This night thrye,
90To goode mote it turne, of yow I mette!'
And with that word she doun on bench him sette.

`Ye, nece, ye shal fare wel the bet,
If God wole, al this yeer,' quod Pandarus;
`But I am sory that I have yow let
95To herknen of your book ye preysen thus;
For Goddes love, what seith it? tel it us.
Is it of love? O, som good ye me lere!'
`Uncle,' quod she, `your maistresse is not here!'

With that they gonnen laughe, and tho she seyde,
100`This romaunce is of Thebes, that we rede;
And we han herd how that king Laius deyde
Thurgh Edippus his sone, and al that dede;
And here we stenten at these lettres rede,
How the bisshop, as the book can telle,
105Amphiorax, fil thurgh the ground to helle.'

Quod Pandarus, `Al this knowe I my-selve,
And al the assege of Thebes and the care;
For her-of been ther maked bokes twelve: --
But lat be this, and tel me how ye fare;
110Do wey your barbe, and shew your face bare;
Do wey your book, rys up, and lat us daunce,
And lat us don to May som observaunce.'

`A! God forbede!' quod she. `Be ye mad?
Is that a widewes lyf, so God you save?
115By God, ye maken me right sore a-drad,
Ye ben so wilde, it semeth as ye rave!
It sete me wel bet ay in a cave
To bidde, and rede on holy seyntes lyves;
Lat maydens gon to daunce, and yonge wyves.'

120`As ever thryve I,' quod this Pandarus,
`Yet koude I telle a thing to doon you pleye.'
`Now, uncle dere,' quod she, `tel it us
For Goddes love; is than the assege aweye?
I am of Grekes so ferd that I deye.'
125`Nay, nay,' quod he, `as ever mote I thryve!
It is a thing wel bet than swiche fyve.'

`Ye, holy God,' quod she, `what thing is that?
What! Bet than swiche fyve? Ey, nay, y-wis!
For al this world ne can I reden what
130It sholde been; som jape, I trowe, is this;
And but your-selven telle us what it is,
My wit is for to arede it al to lene;
As help me God, I noot nat what ye meene.'

`And I your borow, ne never shal, for me,
135This thing be told to yow, as mote I thryve!'
`And why so, uncle myn? Why so?' quod she.
`By God,' quod he, `that wole I telle as blyve;
For prouder womman were ther noon on-lyve,
And ye it wiste, in al the toun of Troye;
140I jape nought, as ever have I joye!'

Tho gan she wondren more than biforn
A thousand fold, and doun hir eyen caste;
For never, sith the tyme that she was born,
To knowe thing desired she so faste;
145And with a syk she seyde him at the laste,
`Now, uncle myn, I nil yow nought displese,
Nor axen more, that may do yow disese.'

Next Next:
From Troilus and Criseyde, Book II, lines 148-217:
Pandarus tells about Ector and Troilus