Quod Troilus, `Allas! Now am I war
	That Pirous and tho swifte stedes three,
	Whiche that drawen forth the sonnes char,
1705	Han goon som by-path in despyt of me;
	That maketh it so sone day to be;
	And, for the sonne him hasteth thus to ryse,
	Ne shal I never doon him sacrifyse!'

	But nedes day departe moste hem sone,
1710	And whanne hir speche doon was and hir chere,
	They twynne anoon as they were wont to done,
	And setten tyme of meting eft yfere;
	And many a night they wroughte in this manere.
	And thus Fortune a tyme ladde in joye
1715	Criseyde, and eek this kinges sone of Troye.

	In suffisaunce, in blisse, and in singinges,
	This Troilus gan al his lyf to lede;
	He spendeth, jousteth, maketh festeynges;
	He yeveth frely ofte, and chaungeth wede,
1720	And held aboute him alwey, out of drede,
	A world of folk, as cam him wel of kinde,
	The fressheste and the beste he koude fynde;

	That swich a voys was of hym and a stevene
	Thurgh-out the world, of honour and largesse,
1725	That it up rong unto the yate of hevene.
	And, as in love, he was in swich gladnesse,
	That in his herte he demede, as I gesse,
	That there nis lovere in this world at ese
	So wel as he, and thus gan love him plese.

1730	The godlihede or beautee which that kinde
	In any other lady hadde yset
	Can not the mountaunce of a knot unbinde,
	A-boute his herte, of al Criseydes net.
	He was so narwe ymasked and yknet,
1735	That it undon on any manere syde,
	That nil not been, for ought that may betyde.

	And by the hond ful ofte he wolde take
	This Pandarus, and into gardin lede,
	And swich a feste and swich a proces make
1740	Him of Criseyde, and of hir womanhede,
	And of hir beautee, that, withouten drede,
	It was an hevene his wordes for to here;
	And thanne he wolde singe in this manere: