# Troilus and Criseyde/Book I

1The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen, That was the king Priamus sone of Troye, In lovinge, how his aventures fellen Fro wo to wele, and after out of Ioye, 5My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye. Thesiphone, thou help me for tendyte Thise woful vers, that wepen as I wryte!
To thee clepe I, thou goddesse of torment, Thou cruel Furie, sorwing ever in peyne; 10Help me, that am the sorwful instrument That helpeth lovers, as I can, to pleyne! For wel sit it, the sothe for to seyne, A woful wight to han a drery fere, And, to a sorwful tale, a sory chere.
15For I, that god of Loves servaunts serve, Ne dar to Love, for myn unlyklinesse, Preyen for speed, al sholde I therfor sterve, So fer am I fro his help in derknesse; But nathelees, if this may doon gladnesse 20To any lover, and his cause avayle, Have he my thank, and myn be this travayle!
But ye loveres, that bathen in gladnesse, If any drope of pitee in yow be, Remembreth yow on passed hevinesse 25That ye han felt, and on the adversitee Of othere folk, and thenketh how that ye Han felt that Love dorste yow displese; Or ye han wonne hym with to greet an ese.
And preyeth for hem that ben in the cas 30Of Troilus, as ye may after here, That love hem bringe in hevene to solas, And eek for me preyeth to god so dere, That I have might to shewe, in som manere, Swich peyne and wo as Loves folk endure, 35In Troilus unsely aventure.
And biddeth eek for hem that been despeyred In love, that never nil recovered be, And eek for hem that falsly been apeyred Thorugh wikked tonges, be it he or she; 40Thus biddeth god, for his benignitee, So graunte hem sone out of this world to pace, That been despeyred out of Loves grace.
And biddeth eek for hem that been at ese, That god hem graunte ay good perseveraunce, 45And sende hem might hir ladies so to plese, That it to Love be worship and plesaunce. For so hope I my soule best avaunce, To preye for hem that Loves servaunts be, And wryte hir wo, and live in charitee.
50And for to have of hem compassioun As though I were hir owene brother dere. Now herkeneth with a gode entencioun, For now wol I gon streight to my matere, In whiche ye may the double sorwes here 55Of Troilus, in loving of Criseyde, And how that she forsook him er she deyde.
It is wel wist, how that the Grekes stronge In armes with a thousand shippes wente To Troyewardes, and the citee longe 60Assegeden neigh ten yeer er they stente, And, in diverse wyse and oon entente, The ravisshing to wreken of Eleyne, By Paris doon, they wroughten al hir peyne.
Now fil it so, that in the toun ther was 65Dwellinge a lord of greet auctoritee, A gret devyn that cleped was Calkas, That in science so expert was, that he Knew wel that Troye sholde destroyed be, By answere of his god, that highte thus, 70Daun Phebus or Apollo Delphicus.
So whan this Calkas knew by calculinge, And eek by answere of this Appollo, That Grekes sholden swich a peple bringe, Thorugh which that Troye moste been for-do, 75He caste anoon out of the toun to go; For wel wiste he, by sort, that Troye sholde Destroyed ben, ye, wolde who-so nolde.
For which, for to departen softely Took purpos ful this forknowinge wyse, 80And to the Grekes ost ful prively He stal anoon; and they, in curteys wyse, Hym deden bothe worship and servyse, In trust that he hath conning hem to rede In every peril which that is to drede.
85The noyse up roos, whan it was first aspyed, Thorugh al the toun, and generally was spoken, That Calkas traytor fled was, and allyed With hem of Grece; and casten to ben wroken On him that falsly hadde his feith so broken; 90And seyden, he and al his kin at ones Ben worthy for to brennen, fel and bones.
Now hadde Calkas left, in this meschaunce, Al unwist of this false and wikked dede, His doughter, which that was in gret penaunce, 95For of hir lyf she was ful sore in drede, As she that niste what was best to rede; For bothe a widowe was she, and allone Of any freend to whom she dorste hir mone.
Criseyde was this lady name a-right; 100As to my dome, in al Troyes citee Nas noon so fair, for passing every wight So aungellyk was hir natyf beautee, That lyk a thing immortal semed she, As doth an hevenish parfit creature, 105That doun were sent in scorning of nature.
This lady, which that al-day herde at ere Hir fadres shame, his falsnesse and tresoun, Wel nigh out of hir wit for sorwe and fere, In widewes habit large of samit broun, 110On knees she fil biforn Ector a-doun; With pitous voys, and tendrely wepinge, His mercy bad, hir-selven excusinge.
Now was this Ector pitous of nature, And saw that she was sorwfully bigoon, 115And that she was so fair a creature; Of his goodnesse he gladed hir anoon, And seyde, `Lat your fadres treson goon Forth with mischaunce, and ye your-self, in Ioye, Dwelleth with us, whyl you good list, in Troye.
120And al thonour that men may doon yow have, As ferforth as your fader dwelled here, Ye shul han, and your body shal men save, As fer as I may ought enquere or here.' And she him thonked with ful humble chere, 125And ofter wolde, and it hadde ben his wille, And took hir leve, and hoom, and held hir stille.
And in hir hous she abood with swich meynee As to hir honour nede was to holde; And whyl she was dwellinge in that citee, 130Kepte hir estat, and bothe of yonge and olde Ful wel beloved, and wel men of hir tolde. But whether that she children hadde or noon, I rede it naught; therfore I late it goon.
The thinges fellen, as they doon of werre, 135Bitwixen hem of Troye and Grekes ofte; For som day boughten they of Troye it derre, And eft the Grekes founden no thing softe The folk of Troye; and thus fortune on-lofte, And under eft, gan hem to wheelen bothe 140After hir cours, ay whyl they were wrothe.
But how this toun com to destruccioun Ne falleth nought to purpos me to telle; For it were a long digressioun Fro my matere, and yow to longe dwelle. 145But the Troyane gestes, as they felle, In Omer, or in Dares, or in Dyte, Who-so that can, may rede hem as they wryte.
But though that Grekes hem of Troye shetten, And hir citee bisegede al a-boute, 150Hir olde usage wolde they not letten, As for to honoure hir goddes ful devoute; But aldermost in honour, out of doute, They hadde a relik hight Palladion, That was hir trist a-boven everichon.
155And so bifel, whan comen was the tyme Of Aperil, whan clothed is the mede With newe grene, of lusty Ver the pryme, And swote smellen floures whyte and rede, In sondry wyses shewed, as I rede, 160The folk of Troye hir observaunces olde, Palladiones feste for to holde.
And to the temple, in al hir beste wyse, In general, ther wente many a wight, To herknen of Palladion servyse; 165And namely, so many a lusty knight, So many a lady fresh and mayden bright, Ful wel arayed, bothe moste and leste, Ye, bothe for the seson and the feste.
Among thise othere folk was Criseyda, 170In widewes habite blak; but nathelees, Right as our firste lettre is now an A, In beautee first so stood she, makelees; Hir godly looking gladede al the prees. Nas never seyn thing to ben preysed derre, 175Nor under cloude blak so bright a sterre
As was Criseyde, as folk seyde everichoon That hir behelden in hir blake wede; And yet she stood ful lowe and stille alloon, Bihinden othere folk, in litel brede, 180And neigh the dore, ay under shames drede, Simple of a-tyr, and debonaire of chere, With ful assured loking and manere.
This Troilus, as he was wont to gyde His yonge knightes, ladde hem up and doun 185In thilke large temple on every syde, Biholding ay the ladyes of the toun, Now here, now there, for no devocioun Hadde he to noon, to reven him his reste, But gan to preyse and lakken whom him leste.
190And in his walk ful fast he gan to wayten If knight or squyer of his companye Gan for to syke, or lete his eyen bayten On any woman that he coude aspye; He wolde smyle, and holden it folye, 195And seye him thus, `god wot, she slepeth softe For love of thee, whan thou tornest ful ofte!
`I have herd told, pardieux, of your livinge, Ye lovers, and your lewede observaunces, And which a labour folk han in winninge 200Of love, and, in the keping, which doutaunces; And whan your preye is lost, wo and penaunces; O verrey foles! nyce and blinde be ye; Ther nis not oon can war by other be.'
And with that word he gan cast up the browe, 205Ascaunces, `Lo! is this nought wysly spoken?' At which the god of love gan loken rowe Right for despyt, and shoop for to ben wroken; He kidde anoon his bowe nas not broken; For sodeynly he hit him at the fulle; 210And yet as proud a pekok can he pulle.
O blinde world, O blinde entencioun! How ofte falleth al theffect contraire Of surquidrye and foul presumpcioun; For caught is proud, and caught is debonaire. 215This Troilus is clomben on the staire, And litel weneth that he moot descenden. But al-day falleth thing that foles ne wenden.
As proude Bayard ginneth for to skippe Out of the wey, so priketh him his corn, 220Til he a lash have of the longe whippe, Than thenketh he, `Though I praunce al biforn First in the trays, ful fat and newe shorn, Yet am I but an hors, and horses lawe I moot endure, and with my feres drawe.'
225So ferde it by this fers and proude knight; Though he a worthy kinges sone were, And wende nothing hadde had swiche might Ayens his wil that sholde his herte stere, Yet with a look his herte wex a-fere, 230That he, that now was most in pryde above, Wex sodeynly most subget un-to love.
For-thy ensample taketh of this man, Ye wyse, proude, and worthy folkes alle, To scornen Love, which that so sone can 235The freedom of your hertes to him thralle; For ever it was, and ever it shal bifalle, That Love is he that alle thing may binde; For may no man for-do the lawe of kinde.
That this be sooth, hath preved and doth yet; 240For this trowe I ye knowen, alle or some, Men reden not that folk han gretter wit Than they that han be most with love y-nome; And strengest folk ben therwith overcome, The worthiest and grettest of degree: 245This was, and is, and yet men shal it see.
And trewelich it sit wel to be so; For alderwysest han ther-with ben plesed; And they that han ben aldermost in wo, With love han ben conforted most and esed; 250And ofte it hath the cruel herte apesed, And worthy folk maad worthier of name, And causeth most to dreden vyce and shame.
Now sith it may not goodly be withstonde, And is a thing so vertuous in kinde, 255Refuseth not to Love for to be bonde, Sin, as him-selven list, he may yow binde. The yerde is bet that bowen wole and winde Than that that brest; and therfor I yow rede To folwen him that so wel can yow lede.
260But for to tellen forth in special As of this kinges sone of which I tolde, And leten other thing collateral, Of him thenke I my tale for to holde, Both of his Ioye, and of his cares colde; 265And al his werk, as touching this matere, For I it gan, I wol ther-to refere.
With-inne 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 with-oute: And up-on 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 ther-with 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?' Ther-with his herte gan to sprede and ryse, And softe sighed, lest men mighte him here, 280And caughte a-yein 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 with-alle 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 305With-inne 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 a-fer, his maner for to holde, On other thing his look som-tyme 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 y-iaped 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.
Whan he was fro the temple thus departed, He streyght anoon un-to his paleys torneth, 325Right with hir look thurgh-shoten and thurgh-darted, Al feyneth he in lust that he soiorneth; And al his chere and speche also he borneth; And ay, of loves servants every whyle, Him-self to wrye, at hem he gan to smyle.
330And seyde, `Lord, so ye live al in lest, Ye loveres! For the conningest of yow, That serveth most ententiflich and best, Him tit as often harm ther-of as prow; Your hyre is quit ayein, ye, god wot how! 335Nought wel for wel, but scorn for good servyse; In feith, your ordre is ruled in good wyse!
`In noun-certeyn ben alle your observaunces, But it a sely fewe poyntes be; Ne no-thing asketh so grete attendaunces 340As doth youre lay, and that knowe alle ye; But that is not the worste, as mote I thee; But, tolde I yow the worste poynt, I leve, Al seyde I sooth, ye wolden at me greve!
`But tak this, that ye loveres ofte eschuwe, 345Or elles doon of good entencioun, Ful ofte thy lady wole it misconstrue, And deme it harm in hir opinioun; And yet if she, for other enchesoun, Be wrooth, than shalt thou han a groyn anoon: 350Lord! wel is him that may be of yow oon!'
But for al this, whan that he say his tyme, He held his pees, non other bote him gayned; For love bigan his fetheres so to lyme, That wel unnethe un-to his folk he fayned 355That othere besye nedes him destrayned; For wo was him, that what to doon he niste, But bad his folk to goon wher that hem liste.
And whan that he in chaumbre was allone, He doun up-on his beddes feet him sette, 360And first be gan to syke, and eft to grone, And thoughte ay on hir so, with-outen lette, That, as he sat and wook, his spirit mette That he hir saw a temple, and al the wyse Right of hir loke, and gan it newe avyse.
365Thus gan he make a mirour of his minde, In which he saugh al hoolly hir figure; And that he wel coude in his herte finde, It was to him a right good aventure To love swich oon, and if he dide his cure 370To serven hir, yet mighte he falle in grace, Or elles, for oon of hir servaunts pace.
Imagininge that travaille nor grame Ne mighte, for so goodly oon, be lorn As she, ne him for his desir ne shame, 375Al were it wist, but in prys and up-born Of alle lovers wel more than biforn; Thus argumented he in his ginninge, Ful unavysed of his wo cominge.
Thus took he purpos loves craft to suwe, 380And thoughte he wolde werken prively, First, to hyden his desir in muwe From every wight y-born, al-outrely, But he mighte ought recovered be therby; Remembring him, that love to wyde y-blowe 385Yelt bittre fruyt, though swete seed be sowe.
And over al this, yet muchel more he thoughte What for to speke, and what to holden inne, And what to arten hir to love he soughte, And on a song anoon-right to biginne, 390And gan loude on his sorwe for to winne; For with good hope he gan fully assente Criseyde for to love, and nought repente.
And of his song nought only the sentence, As writ myn auctour called Lollius, 395But pleynly, save our tonges difference, I dar wel sayn, in al that Troilus Seyde in his song, lo! every word right thus As I shal seyn; and who-so list it here, Lo! next this vers, he may it finden here.