From Geoffrey Chaucer's "Troilus and Criseyde", Book V, lines 771-924

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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

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,
775	In-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,

780 For 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.'

785 Yet 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.

790 For 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.'

795 And 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,

800 Was 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;

805 And 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,

810 To 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;

815 But 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.

820 She 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;

825 Tendre-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;

830 Yong, 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,

835 That 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

840 Stood 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,

845 Com 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;

850 And 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.

855 He 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

860 To 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

865 For 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

870 Gan 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,

875 Ne 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,

880 Sholden 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;

885 Nor 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,

895 From 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,"

900 Ye 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

905 Han 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,

910 He 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,

915 That 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,

920 Than 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!'

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

	But nathelees, wel in his herte he thoughte,
	That she nas nat withoute a love in Troye,
780	For 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.'

785	Yet 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.
790	For 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.'
795	And 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,
800	Was 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;
805	And 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,
810	To 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;
815	But 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.

820	She 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;
825	Tendre-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;
830	Yong, 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,
835	That 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
840	Stood 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,
845	Com 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;
850	And 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.

855	He 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
860	To 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
865	For 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
870	Gan 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,
875	Ne 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,
880	Sholden 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;
885	Nor 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,
895	From 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,"
900	Ye 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
905	Han 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,
910	He 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,
915	That 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,
920	Than 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!'