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A thousand sykes, hottere than the glede, | |
Out of his brest ech after other wente, | |
Medled with pleyntes newe, his wo to fede, | |
340 | For which his woful teeris never stente; |
And shortly, so his peynes him to-rente, | |
And wex so mat, that joye nor penaunce | |
He feleth noon, but lyth forth in a traunce. |
Pandare, which that in the parlement | |
345 | Hadde herd what every lord and burgeys seyde, |
And how ful graunted was, by oon assent, | |
For Antenor to yelden so Criseyde, | |
Gan wel neigh wood out of his wit to breyde, | |
So that, for wo, he niste what he mente; | |
350 | But in a rees to Troilus he wente. |
A certeyn knight, that for the tyme kepte | |
The chaumbre-dore, undide it him anon; | |
And Pandare, that ful tendreliche wepte, | |
In-to the derke chaumbre, as stille as ston, | |
355 | Toward the bed gan softely to goon, |
So confus, that he niste what to seye; | |
For verray wo his wit was neigh aweye. |
And with his chere and loking al to-torn, | |
For sorwe of this, and with his armes folden, | |
360 | He stood this woful Troilus biforn, |
And on his pitous face he gan biholden; | |
But lord, so often gan his herte colden, | |
Seing his freend in wo, whos hevinesse | |
His herte slow, as thoughte him, for distresse. |
365 | This woful wight, this Troilus, that felte |
His freend Pandare ycomen him to see, | |
Gan as the snow ayein the sonne melte, | |
For which this sorwful Pandare, of pitee, | |
Gan for to wepe as tendreliche as he; | |
370 | And specheles thus been thise ilke tweye, |
That neyther mighte o word for sorwe seye. |
But at the laste this woful Troilus, | |
Ney deed for smert, gan bresten out to rore, | |
And with a sorwful noyse he seyde thus, | |
375 | Among his sobbes and his sykes sore, |
`Lo! Pandare, I am deed, withouten more. | |
Hastow nought herd at parlement,' he seyde, | |
`For Antenor how lost is my Criseyde?' |
This Pandarus, ful deed and pale of hewe, | |
380 | Ful pitously answerde and seyde, `Yis! |
As wisly were it fals as it is trewe, | |
That I have herd, and woot al how it is. | |
O mercy, God, who wolde have trowed this? | |
Who wolde have wend that, in so litel a throwe, | |
385 | Fortune our joye wolde han over-throwe? |
`For in this world ther is no creature, | |
As to my doom, that ever saw ruyne | |
Straungere than this, thorugh cas or aventure. | |
But who may al eschewe, or al devyne? | |
390 | Swich is this world; for-thy I thus defyne, |
Ne trust no wight to finden in Fortune | |
Ay propretee; hir yiftes been comune. |
`But tel me this, why thou art now so mad | |
To sorwen thus? Why lystow in this wyse, | |
395 | Syn thy desyr al holly hastow had, |
So that, by right, it oughte ynow suffyse? | |
But I, that never felte in my servyse | |
A frendly chere or loking of an ye, | |
Lat me thus wepe and wayle, til I dye. |
400 | `And over al this, as thou wel wost thy-selve, |
This town is ful of ladies al aboute; | |
And, to my doom, fairer than swiche twelve | |
As ever she was, shal I finde, in som route, | |
Ye, oon or two, withouten any doute. | |
405 | For-thy be glad, myn owene dere brother, |
If she be lost, we shal recovere another. |
`What, God forbede alwey that ech plesaunce | |
In o thing were, and in non other wight! | |
If oon can singe, another can wel daunce; | |
410 | If this be goodly, she is glad and light; |
And this is fayr, and that can good a-right. | |
Ech for his vertu holden is for dere, | |
Bothe heroner and faucon for rivere. |
`And eek, as writ Zanzis, that was ful wys, | |
415 | "The newe love out chaceth ofte the olde;" |
And upon newe cas lyth newe avys. | |
Thenk eek, thyself to saven artow holde; | |
Swich fyr, by proces, shal of kinde colde. | |
For syn it is but casuel plesaunce, | |
420 | Som cas shal putte it out of remembraunce. |
`For al-so seur as day cometh after night, | |
The newe love, labour or other wo, | |
Or elles selde seinge of a wight, | |
Don olde affecciouns alle over-go. | |
425 | And, for thy part, thou shalt have oon of tho |
To abrigge with thy bittre peynes smerte; | |
Absence of hir shal dryve hir out of herte.' |
Next: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book IV, lines 428-518: Troilus rejects to love another woman |