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| Thise wordes seyde he for the nones alle, | |
| To helpe his freend, lest he for sorwe deyde. | |
| 430 | For douteles, to doon his wo to falle, |
| He roughte not what unthrift that he seyde. | |
| But Troilus, that neigh for sorwe deyde, | |
| Tok litel hede of al that ever he mente; | |
| Oon eere it herde, at the other out it wente: |
| 435 | But at the laste answerde and seyde, `Freend, |
| This lechecraft, or heled thus to be, | |
| Were wel sitting, if that I were a feend, | |
| To traysen hir that trewe is unto me! | |
| I pray God, lat this conseil never ythee; | |
| 440 | But do me rather sterve anon, right here |
| Er I thus do as thou me woldest lere. |
| `She that I serve, ywis, what so thou seye, | |
| To whom myn herte enhabit is by right, | |
| Shal han me holly hires til that I deye. | |
| 445 | For, Pandarus, syn I have trouthe hir hight, |
| I wol not been untrewe for no wight; | |
| But as hir man I wol ay live and sterve, | |
| And never other creature serve. |
| `And ther thou seyst, thou shalt as faire finde | |
| 450 | As she, lat be, make no comparisoun |
| To creature yformed here by kinde. | |
| O leve Pandare, in conclusioun, | |
| I wol not be of thyn opinioun, | |
| Touching al this; for whiche I thee biseche, | |
| 455 | So hold thy pees; thou sleest me with thy speche. |
| `Thow biddest me I sholde love another | |
| Al freshly newe, and lat Criseyde go! | |
| It lyth not in my power, leve brother. | |
| And though I mighte, I wolde not do so. | |
| 460 | But canstow pleyen raket, to and fro, |
| Netle in, dokke out, now this, now that, Pandare? | |
| Now foule falle hir, for thy wo that care! |
| `Thow farest eek by me, thou Pandarus, | |
| As he, that whan a wight is wo bi-goon, | |
| 465 | He cometh to him a pas, and seyth right thus, |
| "Thenk not on smert, and thou shalt fele noon." | |
| Thou most me first transmuwen in a stoon, | |
| And reve me my passiounes alle, | |
| Er thou so lightly do my wo to falle. |
| 470 | `The deeth may wel out of my brest departe |
| The lyf, so longe may this sorwe myne; | |
| But fro my soule shal Criseydes darte | |
| Out never-mo; but doun with Proserpyne, | |
| Whan I am deed, I wol go wone in pyne; | |
| 475 | And ther I wol eternaly compleyne |
| My wo, and how that twinned be we tweyne. |
| `Thow hast here maad an argument, for fyn, | |
| How that it sholde a lasse peyne be | |
| Criseyde to for-goon, for she was myn, | |
| 480 | And live in ese and in felicitee. |
| Why gabbestow, that seydest thus to me | |
| That "him is wors that is fro wele y-throwe, | |
| Than he hadde erst non of that wele y-knowe?" |
| `But tel me now, syn that thee thinketh so light | |
| 485 | To chaungen so in love, ay to and fro, |
| Why hastow not don bisily thy might | |
| To chaungen hir that doth thee al thy wo? | |
| Why niltow lete hir fro thyn herte go? | |
| Why niltow love an-other lady swete, | |
| 490 | That may thyn herte setten in quiete? |
| `If thou hast had in love ay yet mischaunce, | |
| And canst it not out of thyn herte dryve, | |
| I, that livede in lust and in plesaunce | |
| With hir as muche as creature on-lyve, | |
| 495 | How sholde I that foryete, and that so blyve? |
| O where hastow ben hid so longe in muwe, | |
| That canst so wel and formely arguwe? |
| `Nay, nay, God woot, nought worth is al thy reed, | |
| For which, for what that ever may bifalle, | |
| 500 | Withouten wordes mo, I wol be deed. |
| O deeth, that endere art of sorwes alle, | |
| Com now, syn I so ofte after thee calle, | |
| For sely is that deeth, soth for to seyne, | |
| That, ofte ycleped, cometh and endeth peyne. |
| 505 | `Wel woot I, whyl my lyf was in quiete, |
| Er thou me slowe, I wolde have yeven hire; | |
| But now thy cominge is to me so swete, | |
| That in this world I nothing so desyre. | |
| O deeth, syn with this sorwe I am a-fyre, | |
| 510 | Thou outher do me anoon yn teeris drenche, |
| Or with thy colde strook myn hete quenche! |
| `Syn that thou sleest so fele in sondry wyse | |
| Ayens hir wil, unpreyed, day and night, | |
| Do me, at my requeste, this servyse, | |
| 515 | Delivere now the world, so dostow right, |
| Of me, that am the wofulleste wight | |
| That ever was; for tyme is that I sterve, | |
| Syn in this world of right nought may I serve.' |
| Next: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book IV, lines 519-658: Pandarus insists on the exchange of Criseyde for Antenor |