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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 1009-1099:
Criseyde falls for Diomedes
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Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book V, lines 1100-1204: Troilus awaits Criseyde's return

1100This Troilus, as I biforn have told,
Thus dryveth forth, as wel as he hath might.
But often was his herte hoot and cold,
And namely, that ilke nynthe night,
Which on the morwe she hadde him bihight
1105To come ayein: God wot, ful litel reste
Hadde he that night; nothing to slepe him leste.

The laurer-crowned Phebus, with his hete,
Gan, in his course ay upward as he wente,
To warmen of the est see the wawes wete,
1110And Nisus doughter song with fresh entente,
Whan Troilus his Pandare after sente;
And on the walles of the toun they pleyde,
To loke if they can seen ought of Criseyde.

Til it was noon, they stoden for to see
1115Who that ther come; and every maner wight,
That cam fro fer, they seyden it was she,
Til that they koude knowen him aright.
Now was his herte dul, now was it light;
And thus byjaped stonden for to stare
1120Aboute nought, this Troilus and Pandare.

To Pandarus this Troilus tho seyde,
`For ought I woot, bi-for noon, sikerly,
In-to this toun ne comth nought here Criseyde.
She hath ynough to done, hardily,
1125To winnen from hir fader, so trowe I;
Hir olde fader wol yet make hir dyne
Er that she go; God yeve his herte pyne!'

Pandare answerde, `It may wel be, certeyn;
And for-thy lat us dyne, I thee biseche;
1130And after noon than maystw thou come ayeyn.'
And hoom they go, withoute more speche;
And comen ayein, but longe may they seche
Er that they finde that they after cape;
Fortune hem bothe thenketh for to jape.

1135Quod Troilus, `I see wel now, that she
Is taried with hir olde fader so,
That er she come, it wole neigh even be.
Com forth, I wol unto the yate go.
Thise portours been unkonninge ever mo;
1140And I wol doon hem holden up the yate
As nought ne were, although she come late.'

The day goth faste, and after that comth eve,
And yet com nought to Troilus Criseyde.
He loketh forth by hegge, by tree, by greve,
1145And fer his heed over the wal he leyde.
And at the laste he torned him, and seyde.
`By God, I woot hir mening now, Pandare!
Al-most, y-wis, al newe was my care.

`Now douteles, this lady can hir good;
1150I woot, she meneth ryden prively.
I comende hir wysdom, by myn hood!
She wol not maken peple nycely
Gaure on hir, whan she comth; but softely
By nighte in-to the toun she thenketh ryde.
1155And, dere brother, thenk not longe to abyde.

`We han nought elles for to don, ywis.
And Pandarus, now woltow trowen me?
Have here my trouthe, I see hir! Yond she is.
Heve up thyn eyen, man! Maystow not see?'
1160Pandare answerde, `Nay, so mote I thee!
Al wrong, by God; what seystow, man, wher art?
That I see yond nis but a fare-cart.'

`Allas, thou seist right sooth,' quod Troilus;
`But, hardily, it is not al for nought
1165That in myn herte I now rejoyse thus.
It is ayein som good I have a thought.
Noot I not how, but syn that I was wrought,
Ne felte I swich a confort, dar I seye;
She comth to-night, my lyf, that dorste I leye!'

1170Pandare answerde, `It may be wel, ynough';
And held with him of al that ever he seyde;
But in his herte he thoughte, and softe lough,
And to himself ful sobrely he seyde:
`From haselwode, ther joly Robin pleyde,
1175Shal come al that thou abydest here;
Ye, fare-wel al the snow of ferne yere!'

The wardeyn of the yates gan to calle
The folk which that withoute the yates were,
And bad hem dryven in hir bestes alle,
1180Or al the night they moste bleven there.
And fer within the night, with many a tere,
This Troilus gan hoomward for to ryde;
For wel he seeth it helpeth nought to abyde.

But nathelees, he gladded him in this;
1185He thoughte he misacounted hadde his day,
And seyde, `I understonde have al amis.
For thilke night I last Criseyde say,
She seyde, "I shal ben here, if that I may,
Er that the mone, O dere herte swete!
1190The Lyon passe, out of this Ariete."

`For which she may yet holde al hir biheste.'
And on the morwe unto the yate he wente,
And up and down, by west and eek by este,
Upon the walles made he many a wente.
1195But al for nought; his hope alwey him blente;
For which at night, in sorwe and sykes sore,
He wente him hoom, withouten any more.

This hope al clene out of his herte fledde,
He nath wheron now lenger for to honge;
1200But for the peyne him thoughte his herte bledde,
So were his throwes sharpe and wonder stronge.
For when he saugh that she abood so longe,
He niste what he juggen of it mighte,
Syn she hath broken that she him bihighte.

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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 1205-1309:
Troilus suspects Criseyde's unfaithfullness, but Pandarus urges him not to draw hasty conclusions