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This Diomede, that ladde hir by the brydel, | |
Whan that he saugh the folk of Troye aweye, | |
Thoughte, `Al my labour shal not been on ydel, | |
95 | If that I may, for somwhat shal I seye, |
For at the worste it may yet shorte our weye. | |
I have herd seyd, eek tymes twyes twelve, | |
"He is a fool that wol foryete himselve."' |
But nathelees this thoughte he wel ynough, | |
100 | `That certaynly I am aboute nought, |
If that I speke of love, or make it tough; | |
For douteles, if she have in hir thought | |
Him that I gesse, he may not been ybrought | |
So sone awey; but I shal finde a mene, | |
105 | That she not wite as yet shal what I mene.' |
This Diomede, as he that koude his good, | |
Whan this was doon, gan fallen forth in speche | |
Of this and that, and asked why she stood | |
In swich disese, and gan hir eek biseche, | |
110 | That if that he encrese mighte or eche |
With any thing hir ese, that she sholde | |
Comaunde it him, and seyde he doon it wolde. |
For trewely he swoor hir, as a knight, | |
That ther nas thing with whiche he mighte hir plese, | |
115 | That he nolde doon his peyne and al his might |
To doon it, for to doon hir herte an ese. | |
And preyede hir, she wolde hir sorwe apese, | |
And seyde, `Ywis, we Grekes kan have joye | |
To honouren yow, as wel as folk of Troye.' |
120 | He seyde eek thus, `I woot, yow thinketh straunge, |
No wonder is, for it is to yow newe, | |
The aqueintaunce of these Troianis to chaunge, | |
For folk of Grece, that ye never knewe. | |
But wolde never God but if as trewe | |
125 | A Greek ye shulde among us alle finde |
As any Troian is, and eek as kinde. |
`And by the cause I swoor yow right, lo, now, | |
To been your freend, and helply, to my might, | |
And for that more aqueintaunce eek of yow | |
130 | Have ich had than another straunger wight, |
So fro this forth, I pray yow, day and night, | |
Comaundeth me, how sore that me smerte, | |
To doon al that may lyke unto your herte; |
`And that ye me wolde as your brother trete, | |
135 | And taketh not my frendship in despyt; |
And though your sorwes be for thinges grete, | |
Noot I not why, but out of more respyt, | |
Myn herte hath for to amende it greet delyt. | |
And if I may your harmes not redresse, | |
140 | I am right sory for your hevynesse, |
`And though ye Troians with us Grekes wrothe | |
Han many a day be, alwey yet, pardee, | |
O God of love in sooth we serven bothe. | |
And, for the love of God, my lady free, | |
145 | Whom so ye hate, as beth not wroth with me. |
For trewely, ther can no wight yow serve, | |
That half so looth your wratthe wolde deserve. |
`And nere it that we been so neigh the tente | |
Of Calkas, which that seen us bothe may, | |
150 | I wolde of this yow telle al myn entente; |
But this enseled til another day. | |
Yeve me your hond, I am, and shal ben ay, | |
God help me so, whyl that my lyf may dure, | |
Your owene aboven every creature. |
155 | `Thus seyde I never er now to womman born; |
For God myn herte as wisly glade so, | |
I lovede never womman here biforn | |
As paramours, ne never shal no mo. | |
And, for the love of God, beth not my fo; | |
160 | Al can I not to yow, my lady dere, |
Compleyne aright, for I am yet to lere. |
`And wondreth not, myn owene lady bright, | |
Though that I speke of love to you thus blyve; | |
For I have herd or this of many a wight, | |
165 | Hath loved thing he never saugh his lyve. |
Eek I am not of power for to stryve | |
Ayens the God of love, but him obeye | |
I wol alwey, and mercy I yow preye. |
`Ther been so worthy knightes in this place, | |
170 | And ye so fair, that everich of hem alle |
Wol peynen him to stonden in your grace. | |
But mighte me so fair a grace falle, | |
That ye me for your servaunt wolde calle, | |
So lowly ne so trewely you serve | |
175 | Nil noon of hem, as I shal, til I sterve.' |
Next: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 176-196: Criseyde meets her father Calkas |