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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 687-770:
At the Greek side, Criseyde also mourns and she decides to try to flee back to Troy
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Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book V, lines 771-924: Diomedes advises Criseyde to forget Troy and the Trojans

This Diomede, of whom yow telle I gan,
Goth now, withinne himself ay arguinge
With al the sleighte and al that ever he can,
How he may best, with shortest taryinge,
775In-to his net Criseydes herte bringe.
To this entente he koude never fyne;
To fisshen hir, he leyde out hook and lyne.

But nathelees, wel in his herte he thoughte,
That she nas nat withoute a love in Troye,
780For never, sithen he hir thennes broughte,
Ne koude he seen her laughe or make joye.
He nist how best hir herte for to acoye.
`But for to assaye,' he seyde, `it nought ne greveth;
For he that nought nassayeth, nought nacheveth.'

785Yet seide he to himself upon a night,
`Now am I not a fool, that woot wel how
Hir wo for love is of another wight,
And hereupon to goon assaye hir now?
I may wel wite, it nil not been my prow.
790For wyse folk in bokes it expresse,
"Men shal not wowe a wight in hevinesse."

`But who-so mighte winnen swich a flour
From him, for whom she morneth night and day,
He mighte seyn, he were a conquerour.'
795And right anoon, as he that bold was ay,
Thoughte in his herte, `Happe how happe may,
Al sholde I deye, I wole hir herte seche;
I shal no more lesen but my speche.'

This Diomede, as bokes us declare,
800Was in his nedes prest and corageous;
With sterne voys and mighty limes square,
Hardy, testif, strong, and chevalrous
Of dedes, lyk his fader Tideus.
And som men seyn, he was of tunge large;
805And heir he was of Calidoine and Arge.

Criseyde mene was of hir stature,
Ther-to of shap, of face, and eek of chere,
Ther mighte been no fairer creature.
And ofte tyme this was hir manere,
810To gon ytressed with hir heeres clere
Doun by hir coler at hir bak bihinde,
Which with a threde of gold she wolde binde.

And, save hir browes joyneden yfere,
Ther nas no lak, in ought I can espyen;
815But for to speken of hir eyen clere,
Lo, trewely, they writen that hir syen,
That Paradys stood formed in hir yen.
And with hir riche beautee evermore
Strof love in hir, ay which of hem was more.

820She sobre was, eek simple, and wys with-al,
The beste ynorisshed eek that mighte be,
And goodly of hir speche in general,
Charitable, estatliche, lusty, and free;
Ne never mo ne lakkede hir pitee;
825Tendre-herted, slydinge of corage;
But trewely, I can not telle hir age.

And Troilus wel woxen was in highte,
And complet formed by proporcioun
So wel, that kinde it not amenden mighte;
830Yong, fresshe, strong, and hardy as lyoun;
Trewe as steel in ech condicioun;
On of the beste enteched creature,
That is, or shal, whyl that the world may dure.

And certainly in storie it is y-founde,
835That Troilus was never unto no wight,
As in his tyme, in no degree secounde
In durring don that longeth to a knight.
Al mighte a geaunt passen him of might,
His herte ay with the firste and with the beste
840Stood paregal, to durre don that him leste.

But for to tellen forth of Diomede: --
It fil that after, on the tenthe day,
Syn that Criseyde out of the citee yede,
This Diomede, as fresshe as braunche in May,
845Com to the tente ther-as Calkas lay,
And feyned him with Calkas han to done;
But what he mente, I shal yow telle sone.

Criseyde, at shorte wordes for to telle,
Welcomed him, and doun by hir him sette;
850And he was ethe ynough to maken dwelle.
And after this, withouten longe lette,
The spyces and the wyn men forth hem fette;
And forth they speke of this and that yfere,
As freendes doon, of which som shal ye here.

855He gan first fallen of the werre in speche
Bitwixe hem and the folk of Troye toun;
And of the assege he gan hir eek biseche,
To telle him what was hir opinioun.
Fro that demaunde he so descendeth doun
860To asken hir, if that hir straunge thoughte
The Grekes gyse, and werkes that they wroughte?

And why hir fader tarieth so longe
To wedden hir unto som worthy wight?
Criseyde, that was in hir peynes stronge
865For love of Troilus, hir owene knight,
As ferforth as she konnyng hadde or might,
Answerde him tho; but, as of his entente,
It semed not she wiste what he mente.

But nathelees, this ilke Diomede
870Gan in himself assure, and thus he seyde,
`If ich aright have taken of yow hede,
Me thinketh thus, O lady myn, Criseyde,
That syn I first hond on your brydel leyde,
Whan ye out come of Troye by the morwe,
875Ne koude I never seen yow but in sorwe.

`Can I not seyn what may the cause be
But if for love of som Troyan it were,
The which right sore wolde athinken me
That ye, for any wight that dwelleth there,
880Sholden spille a quarter of a tere,
Or pitously yourselven so bigyle;
For dredelees, it is nought worth the whyle.

`The folk of Troye, as who seyth, alle and some
In preson been, as ye yourselven see;
885Nor thennes shal not oon on-lyve come
For al the gold bitwixen sonne and see.
Trusteth wel, and understondeth me.
Ther shal not oon to mercy goon on-lyve,
Al were he lord of worldes twyes fyve!

890`Swich wreche on hem, for fecching of Eleyne,
Ther shal be take, er that we hennes wende,
That Manes, which that goddes ben of peyne,
Shal been agast that Grekes wol hem shende.
And men shul drede, un-to the worldes ende,
895From hennes-forth to ravisshe any quene,
So cruel shal our wreche on hem be sene.

`And but-if Calkas lede us with ambages,
That is to seyn, with double wordes slye,
Swich as men clepe a "word with two visages,"
900Ye shal wel knowen that I nought ne lye,
And al this thing right seen it with your ye,
And that anoon; ye nil not trowe how sone;
Now taketh heed, for it is for to done.

`What wene ye your wyse fader wolde
905Han yeven Antenor for yow anoon,
If he ne wiste that the citee sholde
Destroyed been? Why, nay, so mote I goon!
He knew ful wel ther shal not scapen oon
That Troyan is; and for the grete fere,
910He dorste not, ye dwelte lenger there.

`What wole ye more, lufsom lady dere?
Lat Troye and Troyan fro your herte pace!
Dryf out that bittre hope, and make good chere,
And clepe ayein the beautee of your face,
915That ye with salte teeris so deface.
For Troye is brought in swich a jupartye,
That, it to save, is now no remedye.

`And thenketh wel, ye shal in Grekes finde,
A more parfit love, er it be night,
920Than any Troian is, and more kinde,
And bet to serven yow wol doon his might.
And if ye vouche sauf, my lady bright,
I wol ben he to serven yow myselve,
Yee, levere than he lord of Greces twelve!'

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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 925-1008:
Criseyde does not affirm or deny Diomedes' intended love for her