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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book III, lines 1142-1337:
Troilus and Criseyde finally touch each other
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Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book III, lines 1338-1414: Troilus and Criseyde stay up all night

Thise ilke two, that ben in armes laft,
So looth to hem a-sonder goon it were,
1340That ech from other wende been biraft,
Or elles, lo, this was hir moste fere,
That al this thing but nyce dremes were;
For which ful ofte ech of hem seyde, `O swete,
Clippe ich yow thus, or elles I it mete?'

1345And, lord! So he gan goodly on hir see,
That never his look ne bleynte from hir face,
And seyde, `O dere herte, may it be
That it be sooth, that ye ben in this place?'
`Ye, herte myn, God thank I of his grace!'
1350Quod tho Criseyde, and therwithal him kiste,
That where his spirit was, for joye he niste.

This Troilus ful ofte hir eyen two
Gan for to kisse, and seyde, `O eyen clere,
It were ye that wroughte me swich wo,
1355Ye humble nettes of my lady dere!
Though ther be mercy writen in your chere,
God woot, the text ful hard is, sooth, to finde,
How koude ye withouten bond me binde?'

Therwith he gan hir faste in armes take,
1360And wel an hundred tymes gan he syke,
Nought swich sorwfull sykes as men make
For wo, or elles whan that folk ben syke,
But esy sykes, swich as been to lyke,
That shewed his affeccioun withinne;
1365Of swich sykes koude he nought bilinne.

Sone after this they speke of sondry thinges,
As fil to purpos of this aventure,
And pleyinge entrechaungeden hir ringes,
Of which I can nought tellen no scripture;
1370But wel I woot, a broche, gold and asure,
In whiche a ruby set was lyk an herte,
Criseyde him yaf, and stak it on his sherte.

Lord! trowe ye, a coveitous, a wrecche,
That blameth love and holt of it despit,
1375That, of tho pens that he can mokre and kecche,
Was ever yet y-yeve him swich delit,
As is in love, in oo poynt, in som plit?
Nay, doutelees, for also God me save,
So parfit joye may no nigard have!

1380They wol sey `Yis,' but lord! So that they lye,
Tho bisy wrecches, ful of wo and drede!
They callen love a woodnesse or folye,
But it shal falle hem as I shal yow rede;
They shul forgo the whyte and eek the rede,
1385And live in wo, ther God yeve hem meschaunce,
And every lover in his trouthe avaunce!

As wolde God, tho wrecches, that dispyse
Servyse of love, hadde eres also longe
As hadde Myda, ful of coveityse,
1390And therto dronken hadde as hoot and stronge
As Crassus dide for his affectis wronge,
To techen hem that they ben in the vyce,
And loveres nought, although they holde hem nyce!

Thise ilke two, of whom that I yow seye,
1395Whan that hir hertes wel assured were,
Tho gonne they to speken and to pleye,
And eek rehercen how, and whanne, and where,
They knewe hem first, and every wo and fere
That passed was; but al swich hevynesse,
1400I thanke it God, was tourned to gladnesse.

And ever mo, whan that hem fel to speke
Of any thing of swich a tyme agoon,
With kissing al that tale sholde breke,
And fallen in a newe joye anoon,
1405And diden al hir might, syn they were oon,
For to recoveren blisse and been at ese,
And passed wo with joye countrepeyse.

Reson wil not that I speke of sleep,
For it accordeth nought to my matere;
1410God woot, they toke of that ful litel keep,
But lest this night, that was to hem so dere,
Ne sholde in veyn escape in no manere,
It was biset in joye and bisinesse
Of al that souneth in-to gentilnesse.

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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book III, lines 1415-1519:
Morning comes and Troilus and Criseyde complain about the shortness of the night