From Geoffrey Chaucer's "Troilus and Criseyde", Book IV, lines 1422-1526

Previous:
From Troilus and Criseyde, Book IV, lines 1247-1421:
Criseyde explains that she has to follow her fate

Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book IV, lines 1422-1526: Troilus comforts Criseyde

	This Troilus, with herte and eeris spradde,
	Herde al this thing devysen to and fro;
	And verraylich him semed that he hadde
1425	The selve wit; but yet to lete hir go
	His herte misforyaf him ever-mo.
	But fynally, he gan his herte wreste
	To trusten hir, and took it for the beste.

For which the grete furie of his penaunce

1430 Was queynt with hope, and therwith hem bitwene

Bigan for joye the amorouse daunce.

And as the briddes, whan the sonne is shene,

Delyten in hir song in leves grene,

Right so the wordes that they spake yfeere

1435 Delyted hem, and made hir hertes clere.

But natheles, the wending of Criseyde,

For al this world, may nought out of his minde;

For which ful ofte he pitously hir preyde,

That of hir heste he might hir trewe finde,

1440 And seyde hire, `Certes, if ye be unkinde,

And but ye come at day set into Troye,

Ne shal I never have hele, honour, ne joye.

`For also sooth as sonne uprist on morwe,

And, god! So wisly thou me, woful wrecche,

1445 To reste bringe out of this cruel sorwe,

I wol myselven slee if that ye drecche.

But of my deeth though litel be to recche,

Yet, er that ye me cause so to smerte,

Dwel rather here, myn owene swete herte!

1450 `For trewely, myn owene lady dere,

Tho sleightes yet that I have herd yow stere

Ful shaply been to failen alle yfere.

For thus men seyn, "That oon thenketh the bere,

But al another thenketh his ledere."

1455 Your sire is wys, and seyd is, out of drede,

"Men may the wyse at-renne, and not at-rede."

`It is ful hard to halten unespyed

Bifore a crepul, for he kan the craft;

Your fader is in sleighte as Argus yed;

1460 For al be that his moeble is him biraft,

His olde sleighte is yet so with him laft,

Ye shal not blende him for your womanhede,

Ne feyne aright, and that is al my drede.

`I noot if pees shal ever-mo bityde;

1465 But, pees or no, for ernest ne for game,

I woot, syn Calkas on the Grekis syde

Hath ones been, and lost so foule his name,

He dar no more come here ayein for shame;

For which that weye, for ought I can espye,

1470 To trusten on, nis but a fantasye.

`Ye shal eek seen, your fader shal yow glose

To been a wyf, and as he kan wel preche,

He shal som Grek so preyse and wel alose,

That ravisshen he shal yow with his speche,

1475 Or do yow doon by force as he shal teche.

And Troilus, of whom ye nil han routhe,

Shal causeles so sterven in his trouthe!

`And over al this, your fader shal despyse

Us alle, and seyn this citee nis but lorn;

1480 And that th'assege never shal aryse,

For-why the Grekes han it alle sworn

Til we be slayn, and doun our walles torn.

And thus he shal yow with his wordes fere,

That ay drede I, that ye wol bleve there.

1485 `Ye shul eek seen so many a lusty knight

A-mong the Grekes, ful of worthinesse,

And ech of hem with herte, wit, and might

To plesen yow don al his besinesse,

That ye shul dullen of the rudenesse

1490 Of us sely Troianes, but-if routhe

Remorde yow, or vertue of your trouthe.

`And this to me so grevous is to thinke,

That fro my brest it wol my soule rende;

Ne dredelees, in me ther may not sinke

1495 A good opinioun, if that ye wende;

For-why your faderes sleighte wol us shende.

And if ye goon, as I have told yow yore,

So thenk I nam but deed, withoute more.

`For which, with humble, trewe, and pitous herte,

1500 A thousand tymes mercy I yow preye;

So reweth on myn aspre peynes smerte,

And doth somwhat, as that I shal yow seye,

And lat us stele away bitwixe us tweye;

And thenk that folye is, whan man may chese,

1505 For accident his substaunce ay to lese.

`I mene this, that syn we mowe er day

Wel stele away, and been togider so,

What wit were it to putten in assay,

In cas ye sholden to your fader go,

1510 If that ye mighte come ayein or no?

Thus mene I, that it were a gret folye

To putte that sikernesse in jupertye.

`And vulgarly to speken of substaunce

Of tresour, may we bothe with us lede

1515 Ynough to live in honour and plesaunce,

Til into tyme that we shal ben dede;

And thus we may eschewen al this drede.

For everich other wey ye can recorde,

Myn herte, ywis, may not therwith acorde.

1520 `And hardily, ne dredeth no poverte,

For I have kin and freendes elles-where

That, though we comen in oure bare sherte,

Us sholde neither lakke gold ne gere,

But been honured whyl we dwelten there.

1525 And go we anoon, for, as in myn entente,

This is the beste, if that ye wole assente.'

Next:
From Troilus and Criseyde, Book IV, lines 1527-1652:
Criseyde comforts Troilus

	For which the grete furie of his penaunce
1430	Was queynt with hope, and therwith hem bitwene
	Bigan for joye the amorouse daunce.
	And as the briddes, whan the sonne is shene,
	Delyten in hir song in leves grene,
	Right so the wordes that they spake yfeere
1435	Delyted hem, and made hir hertes clere.

	But natheles, the wending of Criseyde,
	For al this world, may nought out of his minde;
	For which ful ofte he pitously hir preyde,
	That of hir heste he might hir trewe finde,
1440	And seyde hire, `Certes, if ye be unkinde,
	And but ye come at day set into Troye,
	Ne shal I never have hele, honour, ne joye.

	`For also sooth as sonne uprist on morwe,
	And, god! So wisly thou me, woful wrecche,
1445	To reste bringe out of this cruel sorwe,
	I wol myselven slee if that ye drecche.
	But of my deeth though litel be to recche,
	Yet, er that ye me cause so to smerte,
	Dwel rather here, myn owene swete herte!

1450	`For trewely, myn owene lady dere,
	Tho sleightes yet that I have herd yow stere
	Ful shaply been to failen alle yfere.
	For thus men seyn, "That oon thenketh the bere,
	But al another thenketh his ledere."
1455	Your sire is wys, and seyd is, out of drede,
	"Men may the wyse at-renne, and not at-rede."

	`It is ful hard to halten unespyed
	Bifore a crepul, for he kan the craft;
	Your fader is in sleighte as Argus yed;
1460	For al be that his moeble is him biraft,
	His olde sleighte is yet so with him laft,
	Ye shal not blende him for your womanhede,
	Ne feyne aright, and that is al my drede.

	`I noot if pees shal ever-mo bityde;
1465	But, pees or no, for ernest ne for game,
	I woot, syn Calkas on the Grekis syde
	Hath ones been, and lost so foule his name,
	He dar no more come here ayein for shame;
	For which that weye, for ought I can espye,
1470	To trusten on, nis but a fantasye.

	`Ye shal eek seen, your fader shal yow glose
	To been a wyf, and as he kan wel preche,
	He shal som Grek so preyse and wel alose,
	That ravisshen he shal yow with his speche,
1475	Or do yow doon by force as he shal teche.
	And Troilus, of whom ye nil han routhe,
	Shal causeles so sterven in his trouthe!

	`And over al this, your fader shal despyse
	Us alle, and seyn this citee nis but lorn;
1480	And that th'assege never shal aryse,
	For-why the Grekes han it alle sworn
	Til we be slayn, and doun our walles torn.
	And thus he shal yow with his wordes fere,
	That ay drede I, that ye wol bleve there.

1485	`Ye shul eek seen so many a lusty knight
	A-mong the Grekes, ful of worthinesse,
	And ech of hem with herte, wit, and might
	To plesen yow don al his besinesse,
	That ye shul dullen of the rudenesse
1490	Of us sely Troianes, but-if routhe
	Remorde yow, or vertue of your trouthe.

	`And this to me so grevous is to thinke,
	That fro my brest it wol my soule rende;
	Ne dredelees, in me ther may not sinke
1495	A good opinioun, if that ye wende;
	For-why your faderes sleighte wol us shende.
	And if ye goon, as I have told yow yore,
	So thenk I nam but deed, withoute more.

	`For which, with humble, trewe, and pitous herte,
1500	A thousand tymes mercy I yow preye;
	So reweth on myn aspre peynes smerte,
	And doth somwhat, as that I shal yow seye,
	And lat us stele away bitwixe us tweye;
	And thenk that folye is, whan man may chese,
1505	For accident his substaunce ay to lese.

	`I mene this, that syn we mowe er day
	Wel stele away, and been togider so,
	What wit were it to putten in assay,
	In cas ye sholden to your fader go,
1510	If that ye mighte come ayein or no?
	Thus mene I, that it were a gret folye
	To putte that sikernesse in jupertye.

	`And vulgarly to speken of substaunce
	Of tresour, may we bothe with us lede
1515	Ynough to live in honour and plesaunce,
	Til into tyme that we shal ben dede;
	And thus we may eschewen al this drede.
	For everich other wey ye can recorde,
	Myn herte, ywis, may not therwith acorde.

1520	`And hardily, ne dredeth no poverte,
	For I have kin and freendes elles-where
	That, though we comen in oure bare sherte,
	Us sholde neither lakke gold ne gere,
	But been honured whyl we dwelten there.
1525	And go we anoon, for, as in myn entente,
	This is the beste, if that ye wole assente.'