| Who mighte telle half the joye or feste |
| 345 | Which that the soule of Troilus tho felte, |
| Heringe the effect of Pandarus biheste? |
| His olde wo, that made his herte swelte, |
| Gan tho for joye wasten and tomelte, |
| And al the richesse of his sykes sore |
| 350 | At ones fledde, he felte of hem no more. |
| But right so as these holtes and these hayes, |
| That han in winter dede been and dreye, |
| Revesten hem in grene, whan that May is, |
| Whan every lusty lyketh best to pleye; |
| 355 | Right in that selve wyse, sooth to seye, |
| Wax sodeynliche his herte ful of joye, |
| That gladder was ther never man in Troye. |
| And gan his look on Pandarus up caste |
| Ful sobrely, and frendly for to see, |
| 360 | And seyde, `Freend, in Aprille the laste, |
| As wel thou woost, if it remembre thee, |
| How neigh the deeth for wo thou founde me; |
| And how thou didest al thy bisinesse |
| To knowe of me the cause of my distresse. |
| 365 | `Thou wost how longe I it for-bar to seye |
| To thee, that art the man that I best triste; |
| And peril was it noon to thee biwreye, |
| That wiste I wel; but tel me, if thee liste, |
| Sith I so looth was that thyself it wiste, |
| 370 | How dorst I mo tellen of this matere, |
| That quake now, and no wight may us here? |
| `But natheles, by that God I thee swere, |
| That, as him list, may al this world governe, |
| And, if I lye, Achilles with his spere |
| 375 | Myn herte cleve, al were my lyf eterne, |
| As I am mortal, if I late or yerne |
| Wolde it biwreye, or dorste, or sholde conne, |
| For al the good that God made under sonne; |
| `That rather deye I wolde, and determyne, |
| 380 | As thinketh me, now stokked in presoun, |
| In wrecchednesse, in filthe, and in vermyne, |
| Caytif to cruel king Agamenoun; |
| And this, in alle the temples of this toun |
| Upon the goddes alle, I wol thee swere, |
| 385 | Tomorwe day, if that thee lyketh here. |
| `And that thou hast so muche ydoon for me, |
| That I ne may it never more deserve, |
| This knowe I wel, al mighte I now for thee |
| A thousand tymes on a morwen sterve. |
| 390 | I can no more, but that I wol thee serve |
| Right as thy sclave, whider so thou wende, |
| For ever more, unto my lyves ende! |
| `But here, with al myn herte, I thee biseche, |
| That never in me thou deme swich folye |
| 395 | As I shal seyn; me thoughte, by thy speche, |
| That this, which thou me dost for companye, |
| I sholde wene it were a bauderye; |
| I am nought wood, al if I lewed be; |
| It is not so, that woot I wel, pardee. |
| 400 | `But he that goth, for gold or for richesse, |
| On swich message, calle him what thee list; |
| And this that thou dost, calle it gentilesse, |
| Compassioun, and felawship, and trist; |
| Departe it so, for wyde-where is wist |
| 405 | How that there is dyversitee requered |
| Bitwixen thinges lyke, as I have lered. |
| `And, that thou knowe I thenke nought ne wene |
| That this servyse a shame be or jape, |
| I have my faire suster Polixene, |
| 410 | Cassandre, Eleyne, or any of the frape; |
| Be she never so faire or wel yshape, |
| Tel me, which thou wilt of everichon, |
| To han for thyn, and lat me thanne allone. |
| `But, sith that thou hast don me this servyse |
| 415 | My lyf to save, and for noon hope of mede, |
| So, for the love of God, this grete empryse |
| Performe it out; for now is moste nede. |
| For high and low, withouten any drede, |
| I wol alwey thyne hestes alle kepe; |
| 420 | Have now good night, and lat us bothe slepe.' |
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