| Criseyde, that was Troilus lady right, |
| And cleer stood on a ground of sikernesse, |
| Al thoughte she, hir servaunt and hir knight |
| Ne sholde of right non untrouthe in hir gesse, |
| 985 | Yet nathelees, considered his distresse, |
| And that love is in cause of swich folye, |
| Thus to him spak she of his jalousye: |
| `Lo, herte myn, as wolde the excellence |
| Of love, ayeins the which that no man may, |
| 990 | Ne oughte eek goodly maken resistence |
| And eek bycause I felte wel and say |
| Youre grete trouthe, and servyse every day; |
| And that your herte al myn was, sooth to seyne, |
| This droof me for to rewe upon your peyne. |
| 995 | `And your goodnesse have I founde alwey yit, |
| Of whiche, my dere herte and al my knight, |
| I thonke it yow, as fer as I have wit, |
| Al can I nought as muche as it were right; |
| And I, emforth my konnynge and my might, |
| 1000 | Have and ay shal, how sore that me smerte, |
| Ben to yow trewe and hool, with a myn herte; |
| `And dredelees, that shal be founde at preve. -- |
| But, herte myn, what al this is to seyne |
| Shal wel be told, so that ye noght yow greve, |
| 1005 | Though I to yow right on yourself compleyne. |
| For therwith mene I fynally the peyne, |
| That halt your herte and myn in hevynesse, |
| Fully to sleen, and every wrong redresse. |
| `My goode, myn, not I for-why ne how |
| 1010 | That jalousye, allas! That wikked wivere, |
| Thus causelees is cropen into yow; |
| The harm of which I wolde fayn delivere! |
| Allas! That he, al hool, or of him slivere, |
| Shuld have his refut in so digne a place, |
| 1015 | Ther Jove him sone out of your herte arace! |
| `But O, thou Jove, O auctor of nature, |
| Is this an honour to thy deitee, |
| That folk ungiltif suffren here iniure, |
| And who that giltif is, al quit goth he? |
| 1020 | O were it leful for to pleyne on thee, |
| That undeserved suffrest jalousye, |
| Of that I wolde up-on thee pleyne and crye! |
| `Eek al my wo is this, that folk now usen |
| To seyn right thus, "Ye, jalousye is love!" |
| 1025 | And wolde a busshel venim al excusen, |
| For that o greyn of love is on it shove! |
| But that woot heighe God that sit above, |
| If it be lyker love, or hate, or grame; |
| And after that, it oughte bere his name. |
| 1030 | `But certeyn is, som maner jalousye |
| Is excusable more than som, y-wis. |
| As whan cause is, and som swich fantasye |
| With pietee so wel repressed is, |
| That it unnethe dooth or seyth amis, |
| 1035 | But goodly drinketh up al his distresse; |
| And that excuse I, for the gentilesse. |
| `And som so ful of furie is and despit |
| That it sourmounteth his repressioun; |
| But herte myn, ye be not in that plit, |
| 1040 | That thanke I God, for whiche your passioun |
| I wol not calle it but illusioun, |
| Of habundaunce of love and bisy cure, |
| That dooth your herte this disese endure. |
| `Of which I am right sory but not wrooth; |
| 1045 | But, for my devoir and your hertes reste, |
| Wher-so yow list, by ordal or by ooth, |
| By sort, or in what wyse so yow leste, |
| For love of God, lat preve it for the beste! |
| And if that I be giltif, do me deye, |
| 1050 | Allas! What mighte I more doon or seye?' |
| With that a fewe brighte teeres newe |
| Owt of hir eyen fille, and thus she seyde, |
| `Now God, thou woost, in thought ne dede untrewe |
| To Troilus was never yet Criseyde.' |
| 1055 | With that hir heed doun in the bed she leyde, |
| And with the shete it wreigh, and syghed sore, |
| And held hir pees; not o word spak she more. |
|
