Previous: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 603-686: Troilus continues his mourning

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	`My fader nil for nothing do me grace
695	To goon ayein, for nought I can him queme;
	And if so be that I my terme passe,
	My Troilus shal in his herte deme
	That I am fals, and so it may wel seme.
	Thus shal I have unthank on every syde;
700	That I was born, so weylaway the tyde!

	`And if that I me putte in jupartye,
	To stele awey by nighte, and it bifalle
	That I be caught, I shal be holde a spye;
	Or elles, lo, this drede I most of alle,
705	If in the hondes of som wrecche I falle,
	I am but lost, al be myn herte trewe;
	Now mighty God, thou on my sorwe rewe!'

	Ful pale y-waxen was hir brighte face,
	Hir limes lene, as she that al the day
710	Stood whan she dorste, and loked on the place
	Ther she was born, and ther she dwelt hadde ay.
	And al the night wepinge, allas! she lay.
	And thus despeired, out of alle cure,
	She ladde hir lyf, this woful creature.

715	Ful ofte a day she sighte eek for destresse,
	And in hirself she wente ay portrayinge
	Of Troilus the grete worthinesse,
	And alle his goodly wordes recordinge
	Syn first that day hir love bigan to springe.
720	And thus she sette hir woful herte a-fyre
	Thurgh remembraunce of that she gan desyre.

	In al this world ther nis so cruel herte
	That hir hadde herd compleynen in hir sorwe,
	That nolde han wopen for hir peynes smerte,
725	So tendrely she weep, bothe eve and morwe.
	Hir nedede no teeris for to borwe.
	And this was yet the worste of al hir peyne,
	Ther was no wight to whom she dorste hir pleyne.

	Ful rewfully she loked upon Troye,
730	Biheld the toures heighe and eek the halles;
	`Allas!' quod she, `The plesaunce and the joye
	The whiche that now al torned into galle is,
	Have I had ofte withinne yonder walles!
	O Troilus, what dostow now,' she seyde;
735	`Lord! Whether yet thou thenke upon Criseyde?

	`Allas! I ne hadde trowed on your lore,
	And went with yow, as ye me radde er this!
	Thanne hadde I now not syked half so sore.
	Who mighte han seyd, that I had doon amis
740	To stele awey with swich on as he is?
	But al to late cometh the letuarie,
	Whan men the cors unto the grave carie.

	`To late is now to speke of this matere;
	Prudence, allas! Oon of thyn eyen three
745	Me lakked alwey, er that I come here;
	On tyme ypassed, wel remembred me;
	And present tyme eek coude I wel ysee.
	But futur tyme, er I was in the snare,
	Coude I not seen; that causeth now my care.

750	`But nathelees, bityde what bityde,
	I shal to-morwe at night, by est or weste,
	Out of this ost stele on som maner syde,
	And go with Troilus wheras him leste.
	This purpos wol I holde, and this is beste.
755	No fors of wikked tonges janglerye,
	For ever on love han wrecches had envye.

	`For whoso wole of every word take hede,
	Or rewlen him by every wightes wit,
	Ne shal he never thryven, out of drede.
760	For that that som men blamen ever yit,
	Lo, other maner folk commenden it.
	And as for me, for al swich variaunce,
	Felicitee clepe I my suffisaunce.

	`For which, withouten any wordes mo,
765	To Troye I wol, as for conclusioun.'
	But God it wot, er fully monthes two,
	She was ful fer fro that entencioun.
	For bothe Troilus and Troye toun
	Shal knotteles throughout hir herte slyde;
770	For she wol take a purpos for to abyde.

Next: From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 771-924: Diomedes advises Criseyde to forget Troy and the Trojans