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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 155-266:
The Troians go to the temple
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Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book I, lines 267-322: Troilus sees Criseyde


Withinne the temple he wente him forth pleyinge,
This Troilus, of every wight aboute,
On this lady and now on that lokinge,
270Wher-so she were of toune, or of withoute:
And upon cas bifel, that thorugh a route
His eye perced, and so depe it wente,
Til on Criseyde it smoot, and ther it stente.

And sodeynly he wax therwith astoned,
275And gan hire bet biholde in thrifty wyse:
`O mercy, God!' thoughte he, `wher hastow woned,
That art so fair and goodly to devyse?'
Therwith his herte gan to sprede and ryse,
And softe sighed, lest men mighte him here,
280And caughte ayein his firste pleyinge chere.

She nas nat with the leste of hir stature,
But alle hir limes so wel answeringe
Weren to womanhode, that creature
Was neuer lasse mannish in seminge.
285And eek the pure wyse of here meninge
Shewede wel, that men might in hir gesse
Honour, estat, and wommanly noblesse.

To Troilus right wonder wel withalle
Gan for to lyke hir meninge and hir chere,
290Which somdel deynous was, for she leet falle
Hir look a lite a-side, in swich manere,
Ascaunces, `What! May I not stonden here?'
And after that hir loking gan she lighte,
That never thoughte him seen so good a sighte.

295And of hir look in him ther gan to quiken
So greet desir, and swich affeccioun,
That in his herte botme gan to stiken
Of hir his fixe and depe impressioun:
And though he erst hadde poured up and doun,
300He was tho glad his hornes in to shrinke;
Unnethes wiste he how to loke or winke.

Lo, he that leet him-selven so konninge,
And scorned hem that loves peynes dryen,
Was ful unwar that love hadde his dwellinge
305Withinne the subtile stremes of hir yen;
That sodeynly him thoughte he felte dyen,
Right with hir look, the spirit in his herte;
Blissed be love, that thus can folk converte!

She, this in blak, likinge to Troylus,
310Over alle thyng, he stood for to biholde;
Ne his desir, ne wherfor he stood thus,
He neither chere made, ne worde tolde;
But from afer, his maner for to holde,
On other thing his look somtyme he caste,
315And eft on hir, whyl that servyse laste.

And after this, not fulliche al awhaped,
Out of the temple al esiliche he wente,
Repentinge him that he hadde ever yjaped
Of loves folk, lest fully the descente
320Of scorn fille on him-self; but, what he mente,
Lest it were wist on any maner syde,
His wo he gan dissimulen and hyde.





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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book I, lines 323-399:
Troilus falls in love with Criseyde
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