Previous: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 197-280: Troilus mourns and sends for Pandarus

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	For in his herte he koude wel devyne,
	That Troilus al night for sorwe wook;
290	And that he wolde telle him of his pyne,
	This knew he wel ynough, withoute book.
	For which to chaumbre streight the wey he took,
	And Troilus tho sobreliche he grette,
	And on the bed ful sone he gan him sette.

295	`My Pandarus,' quod Troilus, `the sorwe
	Which that I drye, I may not longe endure.
	I trowe I shal not liven til tomorwe;
	For whiche I wolde alwey, on aventure,
	To thee devysen of my sepulture
300	The forme, and of my moeble thou dispone
	Right as thee semeth best is for to done.

	`But of the fyr and flaumbe funeral
	In whiche my body brenne shal to glede,
	And of the feste and pleyes palestral
305	At my vigile, I prey thee tak good hede
	That be wel; and offre Mars my stede,
	My swerd, myn helm, and, leve brother dere,
	My sheld to Pallas yef, that shyneth clere.

	`The poudre in which myn herte y-brend shal torne,
310	That preye I thee thou take and it conserve
	In a vessel, that men clepeth an urne,
	Of gold, and to my lady that I serve,
	For love of whom thus pitously I sterve,
	So yeve it hir, and do me this plesaunce,
315	To preye hir kepe it for a remembraunce.

	`For wel I fele, by my maladye,
	And by my dremes now and yore ago,
	Al certeinly, that I moot nedes dye.
	The owle eek, which that hight Ascaphilo,
320	Hath after me shright alle thise nightes two.
	And, god Mercurie! Of me now, woful wrecche,
	The soule gyde, and, whan thee list, it fecche!'

	Pandare answerde, and seyde, `Troilus,
	My dere freend, as I have told thee yore,
325	That it is folye for to sorwen thus,
	And causeles, for whiche I can no-more.
	But whoso wol not trowen reed ne lore,
	I can not seen in him no remedye,
	But lete him worthen with his fantasye.

330	`But Troilus, I pray thee tel me now,
	If that thou trowe, er this, that any wight
	Hath loved paramours as wel as thou?
	Ye, God woot, and fro many a worthy knight
	Hath his lady goon a fourtenight,
335	And he not yet made halvendel the fare.
	What nede is thee to maken al this care?

	`Syn day by day thou mayst thyselven see
	That from his love, or elles from his wyf,
	A man moot twynnen of necessitee,
340	Ye, though he love hir as his owene lyf;
	Yet nil he with himself thus maken stryf.
	For wel thow wost, my leve brother dere,
	That alwey freendes may nought been yfere.

	`How doon this folk that seen hir loves wedded
345	By freendes might, as it bi-tit ful ofte,
	And seen hem in hir spouses bed ybedded?
	God woot, they take it wysly, faire and softe.
	For-why good hope halt up hir herte onlofte,
	And for they can a tyme of sorwe endure;
350	As tyme hem hurt, a tyme doth hem cure.

	`So sholdestow endure, and late slyde
	The tyme, and fonde to ben glad and light.
	Ten dayes nis so longe not t'abyde.
	And syn she thee to comen hath bihight,
355	She nil hir hestes breken for no wight.
	For dred thee not that she nil finden weye
	To come ayein, my lyf that dorste I leye.

	`Thy swevenes eek and al swich fantasye
	Dryf out, and lat hem faren to meschaunce;
360	For they procede of thy malencolye,
	That doth thee fele in sleep al this penaunce.
	A straw for alle swevenes signifiaunce!
	God helpe me so, I counte hem not a bene,
	Ther woot no man aright what dremes mene.

365	`For prestes of the temple tellen this,
	That dremes been the revelaciouns
	Of goddes, and as wel they telle, ywis,
	That they ben infernals illusiouns;
	And leches seyn, that of complexiouns
370	Proceden they, or fast, or glotonye.
	Who woot in sooth thus what they signifye?

	`Eek othere seyn that thorugh impressiouns,
	As if a wight hath faste a thing in minde,
	That therof cometh swich avisiouns;
375	And othere seyn, as they in bokes finde,
	That, after tymes of the yeer by kinde,
	Men dreme, and that th'effect goth by the mone;
	But leve no dreem, for it is nought to done.

	`Wel worth of dremes ay thise olde wyves,
380	And treweliche eek augurie of thise foules;
	For fere of which men wenen lese her lyves,
	As ravenes qualm, or shryking of thise oules.
	To trowen on it bothe fals and foul is.
	Allas, allas, so noble a creature
385	As is a man, shal drede swich ordure!

	`For which with al myn herte I thee biseche,
	Unto thyself that al this thou foryive;
	And rys up now withoute more speche,
	And lat us caste how forth may best be drive
390	This tyme, and eek how freshly we may live
	Whan that she cometh, the which shal be right sone;
	God help me so, the beste is thus to done.

	`Rys, lat us speke of lusty lyf in Troye
	That we han lad, and forth the tyme dryve;
395	And eek of tyme cominge us rejoye,
	That bringen shal our blisse now so blyve;
	And langour of these twyes dayes fyve
	We shal therwith so foryete or oppresse,
	That wel unnethe it doon shal us duresse.

400	`This toun is ful of lordes al aboute,
	And trewes lasten al this mene whyle.
	Go we pleye us in som lusty route
	To Sarpedon, not hennes but a myle.
	And thus thou shalt the tyme wel bigyle,
405	And dryve it forth unto that blisful morwe,
	That thou hir see, that cause is of thy sorwe.

	`Now rys, my dere brother Troilus;
	For certes, it noon honour is to thee
	To wepe, and in thy bedde to jouken thus.
410	For trewely, of o thing trust to me,
	If thou thus ligge a day, or two, or thre,
	The folk wol wene that thou, for cowardyse,
	Thee feynest sik, and that thou darst not ryse.'

Next: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 414-434: Pandarus suggests to visit king Sarpendoun