From Geoffrey Chaucer's "Troilus and Criseyde", Book II, lines 218-322

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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book II, lines 148-217:
Pandarus tells about Ector and Troilus

Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book II, lines 218-322: Pandarus reveals Troilus' crush on Criseyde

	Whan that hir tale al brought was to an ende,
	Of hire estat and of hir governaunce,
220	Quod Pandarus, `Now is it tyme I wende;
	But yet, I seye, aryseth, lat us daunce,
	And cast your widwes habit to mischaunce:
	What list yow thus your-self to disfigure,
	Sith yow is tid thus fair an aventure?'

225 `A! Wel bithought! For love of God,' quod she,

`Shal I not witen what ye mene of this?'

`No, this thing axeth layser,' tho quod he,

`And eek me wolde muche greve, ywis,

If I it tolde, and ye it toke amis.

230 Yet were it bet my tonge for to stille

Than seye a sooth that were ayeins your wille.

`For, nece, by the goddesse Minerve,

And Juppiter, that maketh the thonder ringe,

And by the blisful Venus that I serve,

235 Ye been the womman in this world livyng,

Withoute paramours, to my wityng,

That I best love, and lothest am to greve,

And that ye witen wel yourself, I leve.'

`Ywis, myn uncle,' quod she, `grant mercy;

240 Your freendship have I founden ever yit;

I am to no man holden trewely,

So muche as yow, and have so litel quit;

And, with the grace of God, emforth my wit,

As in my gilt I shal you never offende;

245 And if I have er this, I wol amende.

`But, for the love of God, I yow beseche,

As ye ben he that I love most and triste,

Lat be to me your fremde manere speche,

And sey to me, your nece, what yow liste:'

250 And with that word hir uncle anoon hir kiste,

And seyde, `Gladly, leve nece dere,

Tak it for good that I shal seye yow here.'

With that she gan hir eiyen doun to caste,

And Pandarus to coghe gan a lyte,

255 And seyde, `Nece, alwey, lo! To the laste,

How-so it be that som men hem delite

With subtil art hir tales for to endite,

Yet for al that, in hir entencioun

Hir tale is al for som conclusioun.

260 `And sithe th'ende is every tales strengthe,

And this matere is so bihovely,

What sholde I peynte or drawen it on lengthe

To yow, that been my freend so feithfully?'

And with that word he gan right inwardly

265 Biholden hir, and loken on hir face,

And seyde, `On suche a mirour goode grace!'

Than thoughte he thus: `If I my tale endyte

Ought hard, or make a proces any whyle,

She shal no savour han therin but lyte,

270 And trowe I wolde hir in my wil bigyle.

For tendre wittes wenen al be wyle

Ther-as they can nat pleynly understonde;

For-thy hir wit to serven wol I fonde --'

And loked on hir in a besy wyse,

275 And she was war that he byheld hir so,

And seyde, `Lord! So faste ye me avyse!

Sey ye me never er now? What sey ye, no?'

`Yes, yes,' quod he, `and bet wole er I go;

But, by my trouthe, I thoughte now if ye

280 Be fortunat, for now men shal it see.

`For to every wight som goodly aventure

Som tyme is shape, if he it can receyven;

And if that he wol take of it no cure,

Whan that it commeth, but wilfully it weyven,

285 Lo, neither cas nor fortune him deceyven,

But right his verray slouthe and wrecchednesse;

And swich a wight is for to blame, I gesse.

`Good aventure, O bele nece, have ye

Ful lightly founden, and ye conne it take;

290 And, for the love of God, and eek of me,

Cacche it anoon, lest aventure slake.

What sholde I lenger proces of it make?

Yif me your hond, for in this world is noon,

If that yow list, a wight so wel begoon.

295 `And sith I speke of good entencioun,

As I to yow have told wel here-biforn,

And love as wel your honour and renoun

As creature in al this world y-born;

By alle the othes that I have yow sworn,

300 And ye be wrooth therfore, or wene I lye,

Ne shal I never seen yow eft with ye.

`Beth nought agast, ne quaketh nat; wher-to?

Ne chaungeth nat for fere so your hewe;

For hardely the werste of this is do;

305 And though my tale as now be to yow newe,

Yet trist alwey, ye shal me finde trewe;

And were it thing that me thoughte unsittinge,

To yow nolde I no swiche tales bringe.'

`Now, my good em, for Goddes love, I preye,'

310 Quod she, `com of, and tel me what it is;

For bothe I am agast what ye wol seye,

And eek me longeth it to wite, y-wis.

For whether it be wel or be amis,

Say on, lat me not in this fere dwelle:'

315 `So wol I doon; now herkneth, I shal telle:

`Now, nece myn, the kinges dere sone,

The goode, wyse, worthy, fresshe, and free,

Which alwey for to do wel is his wone,

The noble Troilus, so loveth thee,

320 That, bot ye helpe, it wol his bane be.

Lo, here is al, what sholde I more seye?

Doth what yow list, to make him live or deye.

Next:
From Troilus and Criseyde, Book II, lines 323-385:
Pandarus says that he and Troilus will kill themself if Criseyde does not answer Troilus' love

225	`A! Wel bithought! For love of God,' quod she,
	`Shal I not witen what ye mene of this?'
	`No, this thing axeth layser,' tho quod he,
	`And eek me wolde muche greve, ywis,
	If I it tolde, and ye it toke amis.
230	Yet were it bet my tonge for to stille
	Than seye a sooth that were ayeins your wille.

	`For, nece, by the goddesse Minerve,
	And Juppiter, that maketh the thonder ringe,
	And by the blisful Venus that I serve,
235	Ye been the womman in this world livyng,
	Withoute paramours, to my wityng,
	That I best love, and lothest am to greve,
	And that ye witen wel yourself, I leve.'

	`Ywis, myn uncle,' quod she, `grant mercy;
240	Your freendship have I founden ever yit;
	I am to no man holden trewely,
	So muche as yow, and have so litel quit;
	And, with the grace of God, emforth my wit,
	As in my gilt I shal you never offende;
245	And if I have er this, I wol amende.

	`But, for the love of God, I yow beseche,
	As ye ben he that I love most and triste,
	Lat be to me your fremde manere speche,
	And sey to me, your nece, what yow liste:'
250	And with that word hir uncle anoon hir kiste,
	And seyde, `Gladly, leve nece dere,
	Tak it for good that I shal seye yow here.'

	With that she gan hir eiyen doun to caste,
	And Pandarus to coghe gan a lyte,
255	And seyde, `Nece, alwey, lo! To the laste,
	How-so it be that som men hem delite
	With subtil art hir tales for to endite,
	Yet for al that, in hir entencioun
	Hir tale is al for som conclusioun.

260	`And sithe th'ende is every tales strengthe,
	And this matere is so bihovely,
	What sholde I peynte or drawen it on lengthe
	To yow, that been my freend so feithfully?'
	And with that word he gan right inwardly
265	Biholden hir, and loken on hir face,
	And seyde, `On suche a mirour goode grace!'

	Than thoughte he thus: `If I my tale endyte
	Ought hard, or make a proces any whyle,
	She shal no savour han therin but lyte,
270	And trowe I wolde hir in my wil bigyle.
	For tendre wittes wenen al be wyle
	Ther-as they can nat pleynly understonde;
	For-thy hir wit to serven wol I fonde --'

	And loked on hir in a besy wyse,
275	And she was war that he byheld hir so,
	And seyde, `Lord! So faste ye me avyse!
	Sey ye me never er now? What sey ye, no?'
	`Yes, yes,' quod he, `and bet wole er I go;
	But, by my trouthe, I thoughte now if ye
280	Be fortunat, for now men shal it see.

	`For to every wight som goodly aventure
	Som tyme is shape, if he it can receyven;
	And if that he wol take of it no cure,
	Whan that it commeth, but wilfully it weyven,
285	Lo, neither cas nor fortune him deceyven,
	But right his verray slouthe and wrecchednesse;
	And swich a wight is for to blame, I gesse.

	`Good aventure, O bele nece, have ye
	Ful lightly founden, and ye conne it take;
290	And, for the love of God, and eek of me,
	Cacche it anoon, lest aventure slake.
	What sholde I lenger proces of it make?
	Yif me your hond, for in this world is noon,
	If that yow list, a wight so wel begoon.

295	`And sith I speke of good entencioun,
	As I to yow have told wel here-biforn,
	And love as wel your honour and renoun
	As creature in al this world y-born;
	By alle the othes that I have yow sworn,
300	And ye be wrooth therfore, or wene I lye,
	Ne shal I never seen yow eft with ye.

	`Beth nought agast, ne quaketh nat; wher-to?
	Ne chaungeth nat for fere so your hewe;
	For hardely the werste of this is do;
305	And though my tale as now be to yow newe,
	Yet trist alwey, ye shal me finde trewe;
	And were it thing that me thoughte unsittinge,
	To yow nolde I no swiche tales bringe.'

	`Now, my good em, for Goddes love, I preye,'
310	Quod she, `com of, and tel me what it is;
	For bothe I am agast what ye wol seye,
	And eek me longeth it to wite, y-wis.
	For whether it be wel or be amis,
	Say on, lat me not in this fere dwelle:'
315	`So wol I doon; now herkneth, I shal telle:

	`Now, nece myn, the kinges dere sone,
	The goode, wyse, worthy, fresshe, and free,
	Which alwey for to do wel is his wone,
	The noble Troilus, so loveth thee,
320	That, bot ye helpe, it wol his bane be.
	Lo, here is al, what sholde I more seye?
	Doth what yow list, to make him live or deye.