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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book II, lines 806-875:
Criseyde decides she loves Troilus despite the disadvantage of losing her freedom
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Geoffrey Chaucer (1342 - 1400):
Troilus and Criseyde
Book II, lines 876-931: Criseyde exchanges thoughts with her niece Antigone and goes to sleep


And of hir song right with that word she stente,
And therwithal, `Now, nece,' quod Criseyde,
`Who made this song with so good entente?'
Antigone answerde anoon, and seyde,
880`Ma dame, ywis, the goodlieste mayde
Of greet estat in al the toun of Troye;
And let hir lyf in most honour and joye.'

`Forsothe, so it semeth by hir song,'
Quod tho Criseyde, and gan ther-with to syke,
885And seyde, `Lord, is there swich blisse among
These lovers, as they conne faire endite?'
`Ye, wis,' quod freshe Antigone the white,
`For alle the folk that han or been on lyve
Ne conne wel the blisse of love discryve.

890`But wene ye that every wrecche woot
The parfit blisse of love? Why, nay, y-wis;
They wenen al be love, if oon be hoot;
Do wey, do wey, they woot no-thing of this!
Men mosten axe at seyntes if it is
895Aught fair in hevene; Why? For they conne telle;
And axen fendes, is it foul in helle.'

Criseyde un-to that purpos nought answerde,
But seyde, `Ywis, it wol be night as faste.'
But every word which that she of hir herde,
900She gan to prenten in hir herte faste;
And ay gan love hir lasse for to agaste
Than it dide erst, and sinken in hir herte,
That she wex somwhat able to converte.

The dayes honour, and the hevenes ye,
905The nightes fo, al this clepe I the sonne,
Gan westren faste, and dounward for to wrye,
As he that hadde his dayes cours y-ronne;
And whyte thinges wexen dimme and donne
For lak of light, and sterres for to appere,
910That she and al hir folk in wente yfeere.

So whan it lyked hir to goon to reste,
And voyded weren they that voyden oughte,
She seyde, that to slepe wel hir leste.
Hir wommen sone til hir bed hir broughte.
915Whan al was hust, than lay she stille, and thoughte
Of al this thing the manere and the wyse.
Reherce it nedeth nought, for ye ben wyse.

A nightingale, upon a cedre grene,
Under the chambre-wal ther as she lay,
920Ful loude sang ayein the mone shene,
Paraunter, in his briddes wyse, a lay
Of love, that made hir herte fresh and gay.
That herkned she so longe in good entente,
Til at the laste the dede sleep hir hente.

925And as she sleep, anoon-right tho hir mette,
How that an egle, fethered whyt as boon,
Under hir brest his longe clawes sette,
And out hir herte he rente, and that a-noon,
And dide his herte in-to hir brest to goon,
930Of which she nought agroos, ne no-thing smerte,
And forth he fleigh, with herte left for herte.





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From Troilus and Criseyde, Book II, lines 932-1043:
Pandarus tells Troilus that he has won Criseyde for him
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