THE FIRST BOOK.

THE double sorrow of Troilus to tell, That was the King Priamus' son of Troy, In loving how his adventures* fell *fortunes From woe to weal, and after* out of joy, *afterwards My purpose is, ere I you parte froy.* *from Tisiphone, thou help me to indite These woeful words, that weep as I do write.

To thee I call, thou goddess of torment! Thou cruel wight, that sorrowest ever in pain; Help me, that am the sorry instrument That helpeth lovers, as I can, to plain.* *complain For well it sits,* the soothe for to sayn, *befits Unto a woeful wight a dreary fere,* *companion And to a sorry tale a sorry cheer.* *countenance

For I, that God of Love's servants serve, Nor dare to love for mine unlikeliness,* *unsuitableness Praye for speed,* although I shoulde sterve,** *success **die So far I am from his help in darkness; But natheless, might I do yet gladness To any lover, or any love avail,* *advance Have thou the thank, and mine be the travail.

But ye lovers that bathen in gladness, If any drop of pity in you be, Remember you for old past heaviness, For Godde's love, and on adversity That others suffer; think how sometime ye Founde how Love durste you displease; Or elles ye have won it with great ease.

And pray for them that been in the case Of Troilus, as ye may after hear, That Love them bring in heaven to solace;* *delight, comfort And for me pray also, that God so dear May give me might to show, in some mannere, Such pain or woe as Love's folk endure, In Troilus' *unseely adventure* *unhappy fortune*

And pray for them that eke be despair'd In love, that never will recover'd be; And eke for them that falsely be appair'd* *slandered Through wicked tongues, be it he or she: Or thus bid* God, for his benignity, *pray To grant them soon out of this world to pace,* *pass, go That be despaired of their love's grace.

And bid also for them that be at ease In love, that God them grant perseverance, And send them might their loves so to please, That it to them be *worship and pleasance;* *honour and pleasure* For so hope I my soul best to advance, To pray for them that Love's servants be, And write their woe, and live in charity;

And for to have of them compassion, As though I were their owen brother dear. Now listen all with good entention,* *attention For I will now go straight to my mattere, In which ye shall the double sorrow hear Of Troilus, in loving of Cresside, And how that she forsook him ere she died.

In Troy, during the siege, dwelt "a lord of great authority, a great divine," named Calchas; who, through the oracle of Apollo, knew that Troy should be destroyed. He stole away secretly to the Greek camp, where he was gladly received, and honoured for his skill in divining, of which the besiegers hoped to make use. Within the city there was great anger at the treason of Calchas; and the people declared that he and all his kin were worthy to be burnt. His daughter, whom he had left in the city, a widow and alone, was in great fear for her life.

Cressida was this lady's name aright; *As to my doom,* in alle Troy city *in my judgment* So fair was none, for over ev'ry wight So angelic was her native beauty, That like a thing immortal seemed she, As sooth a perfect heav'nly creature, That down seem'd sent in scorning of Nature.

In her distress, "well nigh out of her wit for pure fear," she appealed for protection to Hector; who, "piteous of nature," and touched by her sorrow and her beauty, assured her of safety, so long as she pleased to dwell in Troy. The siege went on; but they of Troy did not neglect the honour and worship of their deities; most of all of "the relic hight Palladion, that was their trust aboven ev'ry one." In April, "when clothed is the mead with newe green, of jolly Ver [Spring] the prime," the Trojans went to hold the festival of Palladion — crowding to the temple, "in all their beste guise," lusty knights, fresh ladies, and maidens bright.

Among the which was this Cresseida, In widow's habit black; but natheless, Right as our firste letter is now A, In beauty first so stood she makeless;* *matchless Her goodly looking gladded all the press;* *crowd Was never seen thing to be praised derre,* *dearer, more worthy Nor under blacke cloud so bright a sterre,* *star

As she was, as they saiden, ev'ry one That her behelden in her blacke weed;* *garment And yet she stood, full low and still, alone, Behind all other folk, *in little brede,* *inconspicuously* And nigh the door, ay *under shame's drede;* *for dread of shame* Simple of bearing, debonair* of cheer, *gracious With a full sure* looking and mannere. *assured

Dan Troilus, as he was wont to guide His younge knightes, led them up and down In that large temple upon ev'ry side, Beholding ay the ladies of the town; Now here, now there, for no devotioun Had he to none, to *reave him* his rest, *deprive him of* But gan to *praise and lacke whom him lest;* *praise and disparage whom he pleased* And in his walk full fast he gan to wait* *watch, observe If knight or squier of his company Gan for to sigh, or let his eyen bait* *feed On any woman that he could espy; Then he would smile, and hold it a folly, And say him thus: "Ah, Lord, she sleepeth soft For love of thee, when as thou turnest oft.

"I have heard told, pardie, of your living, Ye lovers, and your lewed* observance, *ignorant, foolish And what a labour folk have in winning Of love, and in it keeping with doubtance;* *doubt And when your prey is lost, woe and penance;* *suffering Oh, very fooles! may ye no thing see? Can none of you aware by other be?"

But the God of Love vowed vengeance on Troilus for that despite, and, showing that his bow was not broken, "hit him at the full."

Within the temple went he forth playing, This Troilus, with ev'ry wight about, On this lady and now on that looking, Whether she were of town, or *of without;* *from beyond the walls* And *upon cas* befell, that through the rout* *by chance* *crowd His eye pierced, and so deep it went, Till on Cresside it smote, and there it stent;* *stayed

And suddenly wax'd wonder sore astoned,* *amazed And gan her bet* behold in busy wise: *better "Oh, very god!" thought he; "where hast thou woned* *dwelt That art so fair and goodly to devise?* *describe Therewith his heart began to spread and rise; And soft he sighed, lest men might him hear, And caught again his former *playing cheer.* *jesting demeanour*

*She was not with the least of her stature,* *she was tall* But all her limbes so well answering Were to womanhood, that creature Was never lesse mannish in seeming. And eke *the pure wise of her moving* *by very the way She showed well, that men might in her guess she moved* Honour, estate,* and womanly nobless. *dignity

Then Troilus right wonder well withal Began to like her moving and her cheer,* *countenance Which somedeal dainous* was, for she let fall *disdainful Her look a little aside, in such mannere Ascaunce* "What! may I not stande here?" *as if to say And after that *her looking gan she light,* *her expression became That never thought him see so good a sight. more pleasant*

And of her look in him there gan to quicken So great desire, and strong affection, That in his hearte's bottom gan to sticken Of her the fix'd and deep impression; And though he erst* had pored** up and down, *previously **looked Then was he glad his hornes in to shrink; Unnethes* wist he how to look or wink. *scarcely

Lo! he that held himselfe so cunning, And scorned them that Love's paines drien,* *suffer Was full unware that love had his dwelling Within the subtile streames* of her eyen; *rays, glances That suddenly he thought he felte dien, Right with her look, the spirit in his heart; Blessed be Love, that thus can folk convert!

She thus, in black, looking to Troilus, Over all things he stoode to behold; But his desire, nor wherefore he stood thus, He neither *cheere made,* nor worde told; *showed by his countenance* But from afar, *his manner for to hold,* *to observe due courtesy* On other things sometimes his look he cast, And eft* on her, while that the service last.** *again **lasted

And after this, not fully all awhaped,* *daunted Out of the temple all easily be went, Repenting him that ever he had japed* *jested Of Love's folk, lest fully the descent Of scorn fell on himself; but what he meant, Lest it were wist on any manner side, His woe he gan dissemble and eke hide.

Returning to his palace, he begins hypocritically to smile and jest at Love's servants and their pains; but by and by he has to dismiss his attendants, feigning "other busy needs." Then, alone in his chamber, he begins to groan and sigh, and call up again Cressida's form as he saw her in the temple — "making a mirror of his mind, in which he saw all wholly her figure." He thinks no travail or sorrow too high a price for the love of such a goodly woman; and, "full unadvised of his woe coming,"

Thus took he purpose Love's craft to sue,* *follow And thought that he would work all privily, First for to hide his desire all *in mew* *in a cage, secretly From every wight y-born, all utterly, *But he might aught recover'd be thereby;* *unless he gained by it* Rememb'ring him, that love *too wide y-blow* *too much spoken of* Yields bitter fruit, although sweet seed be sow.

And, over all this, muche more he thought What thing to speak, and what to holden in; And what to arten* her to love, he sought; *constrain And on a song anon right to begin, And gan loud on his sorrow for to win;* *overcome For with good hope he gan thus to assent* *resolve Cressida for to love, and not repent.

The Song of Troilus.

"If no love is, O God! why feel I so? And if love is, what thing and which is he? If love be good, from whence cometh my woe? If it be wick', a wonder thinketh me Whence ev'ry torment and adversity That comes of love *may to me savoury think:* *seem acceptable to me* For more I thirst the more that I drink.

"And if I *at mine owen luste bren* *burn by my own will* From whence cometh my wailing and my plaint? If maugre me, *whereto plain I* then? *to what avail do I complain?* I wot ner* why, unweary, that I faint. *neither O quicke death! O sweete harm so quaint!* *strange How may I see in me such quantity, But if that I consent that so it be?

"And if that I consent, I wrongfully Complain y-wis: thus pushed to and fro, All starreless within a boat am I, Middes the sea, betwixte windes two, That in contrary standen evermo'. Alas! what wonder is this malady! — For heat of cold, for cold of heat, I die!"

Devoting himself wholly to the thought of Cressida — though he yet knew not whether she was woman or goddess — Troilus, in spite of his royal blood, became the very slave of love. He set at naught every other charge, but to gaze on her as often as he could; thinking so to appease his hot fire, which thereby only burned the hotter. He wrought marvellous feats of arms against the Greeks, that she might like him the better for his renown; then love deprived him of sleep, and made his food his foe; till he had to "borrow a title of other sickness," that men might not know he was consumed with love. Meantime, Cressida gave no sign that she heeded his devotion, or even knew of it; and he was now consumed with a new fear — lest she loved some other man. Bewailing his sad lot — ensnared, exposed to the scorn of those whose love he had ridiculed, wishing himself arrived at the port of death, and praying ever that his lady might glad him with some kind look — Troilus is surprised in his chamber by his friend Pandarus, the uncle of Cressida. Pandarus, seeking to divert his sorrow by making him angry, jeeringly asks whether remorse of conscience, or devotion, or fear of the Greeks, has caused all this ado. Troilus pitifully beseeches his friend to leave him to die alone, for die he must, from a cause which he must keep hidden; but Pandarus argues against Troilus' cruelty in hiding from a friend such a sorrow, and Troilus at last confesses that his malady is love. Pandarus suggests that the beloved object may be such that his counsel might advance his friend's desires; but Troilus scouts the suggestion, saying that Pandarus could never govern himself in love.

"Yea, Troilus, hearken to me," quoth Pandare, "Though I be nice;* it happens often so, *foolish That one that access* doth full evil fare, *in an access of fever By good counsel can keep his friend therefro'. I have my selfe seen a blind man go Where as he fell that looke could full wide; A fool may eke a wise man often guide.

"A whetstone is no carving instrument, But yet it maketh sharpe carving tooles; And, if thou know'st that I have aught miswent,* *erred, failed Eschew thou that, for such thing to thee school* is. *schooling, lesson Thus oughte wise men to beware by fooles; If so thou do, thy wit is well bewared; By its contrary is everything declared.

"For how might ever sweetness have been know To him that never tasted bitterness? And no man knows what gladness is, I trow, That never was in sorrow or distress: Eke white by black, by shame eke worthiness, Each set by other, *more for other seemeth,* *its quality is made As men may see; and so the wise man deemeth." more obvious by the contrast* Troilus, however, still begs his friend to leave him to mourn in peace, for all his proverbs can avail nothing. But Pandarus insists on plying the lover with wise saws, arguments, reproaches; hints that, if he should die of love, his lady may impute his death to fear of the Greeks; and finally induces Troilus to admit that the well of all his woe, his sweetest foe, is called Cressida. Pandarus breaks into praises of the lady, and congratulations of his friend for so well fixing his heart; he makes Troilus utter a formal confession of his sin in jesting at lovers and bids him think well that she of whom rises all his woe, hereafter may his comfort be also.

"For thilke* ground, that bears the weedes wick' *that same Bears eke the wholesome herbes, and full oft Next to the foule nettle, rough and thick, The lily waxeth,* white, and smooth, and soft; *grows And next the valley is the hill aloft, And next the darke night is the glad morrow, And also joy is next the fine* of sorrow." *end, border

Pandarus holds out to Troilus good hope of achieving his desire; and tells him that, since he has been converted from his wicked rebellion against Love, he shall be made the best post of all Love's law, and most grieve Love's enemies. Troilus gives utterance to a hint of fear; but he is silenced by Pandarus with another proverb — "Thou hast full great care, lest that the carl should fall out of the moon." Then the lovesick youth breaks into a joyous boast that some of the Greeks shall smart; he mounts his horse, and plays the lion in the field; while Pandarus retires to consider how he may best recommend to his niece the suit of Troilus.

THE SECOND BOOK.

IN the Proem to the Second Book, the poet hails the clear weather that enables him to sail out of those black waves in which his boat so laboured that he could scarcely steer — that is, "the tempestuous matter of despair, that Troilus was in; but now of hope the kalendes begin." He invokes the aid of Clio; excuses himself to every lover for what may be found amiss in a book which he only translates; and, obviating any lover's objection to the way in which Troilus obtained his lady's grace - - through Pandarus' mediation — says it seems to him no wonderful thing:

"For ev'ry wighte that to Rome went Held not one path, nor alway one mannere; Eke in some lands were all the game y-shent If that men far'd in love as men do here, As thus, in open dealing and in cheer, In visiting, in form, or saying their saws;* *speeches For thus men say: Each country hath its laws.

"Eke scarcely be there in this place three That have in love done or said *like in all;"* *alike in all respects*

And so that which the poem relates may not please the reader — but it actually was done, or it shall yet be done. The Book sets out with the visit of Pandarus to Cressida:—

In May, that mother is of monthes glade,* *glad When all the freshe flowers, green and red, Be quick* again, that winter deade made, *alive And full of balm is floating ev'ry mead; When Phoebus doth his brighte beames spread Right in the white Bull, so it betid* *happened As I shall sing, on Maye's day the thrid,

That Pandarus, for all his wise speech, Felt eke his part of Love's shottes keen, That, could he ne'er so well of Love preach, It made yet his hue all day full green;* *pale So *shope it,* that him fell that day a teen* *it happened* *access In love, for which full woe to bed he went, And made ere it were day full many a went.* *turning

The swallow Progne, with a sorrowful lay, When morrow came, gan make her waimenting,* *lamenting Why she foshapen* was; and ever lay *transformed Pandare a-bed, half in a slumbering, Till she so nigh him made her chittering, How Tereus gan forth her sister take, That with the noise of her he did awake,

And gan to call, and dress* him to arise, *prepare Rememb'ring him his errand was to do'n From Troilus, and eke his great emprise; And cast, and knew in *good plight* was the Moon *favourable aspect* To do voyage, and took his way full soon Unto his niece's palace there beside Now Janus, god of entry, thou him guide!

Pandarus finds his niece, with two other ladies, in a paved parlour, listening to a maiden who reads aloud the story of the Siege of Thebes. Greeting the company, he is welcomed by Cressida, who tells him that for three nights she has dreamed of him. After some lively talk about the book they had been reading, Pandarus asks his niece to do away her hood, to show her face bare, to lay aside the book, to rise up and dance, "and let us do to May some observance." Cressida cries out, "God forbid!" and asks if he is mad — if that is a widow's life, whom it better becomes to sit in a cave and read of holy saints' lives. Pandarus intimates that he could tell her something which could make her merry; but he refuses to gratify her curiosity; and, by way of the siege and of Hector, "that was the towne's wall, and Greekes' yerd" or scourging-rod, the conversation is brought round to Troilus, whom Pandarus highly extols as "the wise worthy Hector the second." She has, she says, already heard Troilus praised for his bravery "of them that her were liefest praised be" [by whom it would be most welcome to her to be praised].

"Ye say right sooth, y-wis," quoth Pandarus; For yesterday, who so had with him been, Might have wonder'd upon Troilus; For never yet so thick a swarm of been* *bees Ne flew, as did of Greekes from him flee'n; And through the field, in ev'ry wighte's ear, There was no cry but 'Troilus is here.'

"Now here, now there, he hunted them so fast, There was but Greekes' blood; and Troilus Now him he hurt, now him adown he cast; Ay where he went it was arrayed thus: He was their death, and shield of life for us, That as that day there durst him none withstand, While that he held his bloody sword in hand."

Pandarus makes now a show of taking leave, but Cressida detains him, to speak of her affairs; then, the business talked over, he would again go, but first again asks his niece to arise and dance, and cast her widow's garments to mischance, because of the glad fortune that has befallen her. More curious than ever, she seeks to find out Pandarus' secret; but he still parries her curiosity, skilfully hinting all the time at her good fortune, and the wisdom of seizing on it when offered. In the end he tells her that the noble Troilus so loves her, that with her it lies to make him live or die — but if Troilus dies, Pandarus shall die with him; and then she will have "fished fair." He beseeches mercy for his friend:

"*Woe worth* the faire gemme virtueless! *evil befall!* Woe worth the herb also that *doth no boot!* *has no remedial power* Woe worth the beauty that is rutheless!* *merciless Woe worth that wight that treads each under foot! And ye that be of beauty *crop and root* *perfection If therewithal in you there be no ruth,* *pity Then is it harm ye live, by my truth!"

Pandarus makes only the slight request that she will show Troilus somewhat better cheer, and receive visits from him, that his life may be saved; urging that, although a man be soon going to the temple, nobody will think that he eats the images; and that "such love of friends reigneth in all this town."

Cressida, which that heard him in this wise, Thought: "I shall feele* what he means, y-wis;" *test "Now, eme* quoth she, "what would ye me devise? *uncle What is your rede* that I should do of this?" *counsel, opinion "That is well said," quoth he;" certain best it is That ye him love again for his loving, As love for love is *skilful guerdoning.* *reasonable recompense*

"Think eke how elde* wasteth ev'ry hour *age In each of you a part of your beauty; And therefore, ere that age do you devour, Go love, for, old, there will no wight love thee Let this proverb a lore* unto you be: *lesson '"Too late I was ware," quoth beauty when it past; And *elde daunteth danger* at the last.' *old age overcomes disdain*

"The kinge's fool is wont to cry aloud, When that he thinks a woman bears her high, 'So longe may ye liven, and all proud, Till crowes' feet be wox* under your eye! *grown And send you then a mirror *in to pry* *to look in* In which ye may your face see a-morrow!* *in the morning *I keep then wishe you no more sorrow.'"* *I care to wish you nothing worse* Weeping, Cressida reproaches her uncle for giving her such counsel; whereupon Pandarus, starting up, threatens to kill himself, and would fain depart, but that his niece detains him, and, with much reluctance, promises to "make Troilus good cheer in honour." Invited by Cressida to tell how first he know her lover's woe, Pandarus then relates two soliloquies which he had accidentally overheard, and in which Troilus had poured out all the sorrow of his passion.

With this he took his leave, and home he went Ah! Lord, so was he glad and well-begone!* *happy Cresside arose, no longer would she stent,* *stay But straight into her chamber went anon, And sat her down, as still as any stone, And ev'ry word gan up and down to wind That he had said, as it came to her mind.

And wax'd somedeal astonish'd in her thought, Right for the newe case; but when that she *Was full advised,* then she found right naught *had fully considered* Of peril, why she should afeared be: For a man may love, of possibility, A woman so, that his heart may to-brest,* *break utterly And she not love again, *but if her lest.* *unless it so please her*

But as she sat alone, and thoughte thus, In field arose a skirmish all without; And men cried in the street then:" Troilus hath right now put to flight the Greekes' rout."* *host With that gan all the meinie* for to shout: *(Cressida's) household "Ah! go we see, cast up the lattice wide, For through this street he must to palace ride;

"For other way is from the gates none, Of Dardanus, where open is the chain." With that came he, and all his folk anon, An easy pace riding, in *routes twain,* *two troops* Right as his *happy day* was, sooth to sayn: *good fortune * For which men say may not disturbed be What shall betiden* of necessity. *happen

This Troilus sat upon his bay steed All armed, save his head, full richely, And wounded was his horse, and gan to bleed, For which he rode a pace full softely But such a knightly sighte* truly *aspect As was on him, was not, withoute fail, To look on Mars, that god is of Battaile.

So like a man of armes, and a knight, He was to see, full fill'd of high prowess; For both he had a body, and a might To do that thing, as well as hardiness;* *courage And eke to see him in his gear* him dress, *armour So fresh, so young, so wieldy* seemed he, *active It was a heaven on him for to see.* *look

His helmet was to-hewn in twenty places, That by a tissue* hung his back behind; *riband His shield to-dashed was with swords and maces, In which men might many an arrow find, That thirled* had both horn, and nerve, and rind; *pierced And ay the people cried, "Here comes our joy, And, next his brother, holder up of Troy."

For which he wax'd a little red for shame, When he so heard the people on him cryen That to behold it was a noble game, How soberly he cast adown his eyen: Cresside anon gan all his cheer espien, And let it in her heart so softly sink, That to herself she said, "Who gives me drink?"

For of her owen thought she wax'd all red, Rememb'ring her right thus: "Lo! this is he Which that mine uncle swears he might be dead, But* I on him have mercy and pity:" *unless And with that thought for pure shame she Gan in her head to pull, and that full fast, While he and all the people forth by pass'd.

And gan to cast,* and rollen up and down *ponder Within her thought his excellent prowess, And his estate, and also his renown, His wit, his shape, and eke his gentleness But most her favour was, for his distress Was all for her, and thought it were ruth To slay such one, if that he meant but truth.

. . . . . . . . . .

And, Lord! so gan she in her heart argue Of this mattere, of which I have you told And what to do best were, and what t'eschew, That plaited she full oft in many a fold. Now was her hearte warm, now was it cold. And what she thought of, somewhat shall I write, As to mine author listeth to endite.

She thoughte first, that Troilus' person She knew by sight, and eke his gentleness; And saide thus: *"All were it not to do'n,'* *although it were To grant him love, yet for the worthiness impossible* It were honour, with play* and with gladness, *pleasing entertainment In honesty with such a lord to deal, For mine estate,* and also for his heal.** *reputation **health

"Eke well I wot* my kinge's son is he; *know And, since he hath to see me such delight, If I would utterly his sighte flee, Parauntre* he might have me in despite, *peradventure Through which I mighte stand in worse plight. Now were I fool, me hate to purchase* *obtain for myself Withoute need, where I may stand in grace,* *favour

"In ev'rything, I wot, there lies measure;* *a happy medium For though a man forbidde drunkenness, He not forbids that ev'ry creature Be drinkeless for alway, as I guess; Eke, since I know for me is his distress, I oughte not for that thing him despise, Since it is so he meaneth in good wise.

"Now set a case, that hardest is, y-wis, Men mighte deeme* that he loveth me; *believe What dishonour were it unto me, this? May I *him let of* that? Why, nay, pardie! *prevent him from* I know also, and alway hear and see, Men love women all this town about; Be they the worse? Why, nay, withoute doubt!

"Nor me to love a wonder is it not; For well wot I myself, so God me speed! — *All would I* that no man wist of this thought — *although I would* I am one of the fairest, without drede,* *doubt And goodlieste, who so taketh heed; And so men say in all the town of Troy; What wonder is, though he on me have joy?

"I am mine owen woman, well at ease, I thank it God, as after mine estate, Right young, and stand untied in *lusty leas,* *pleasant leash Withoute jealousy, or such debate: (of love)* Shall none husband say to me checkmate; For either they be full of jealousy, Or masterful, or love novelty.

"What shall I do? to what fine* live I thus? *end Shall I not love, in case if that me lest? What? pardie! I am not religious; And though that I mine hearte set at rest And keep alway mine honour and my name, By all right I may do to me no shame."

But right as when the sunne shineth bright In March, that changeth oftentime his face, And that a cloud is put with wind to flight, Which overspreads the sun as for a space; A cloudy thought gan through her hearte pace,* *pass That overspread her brighte thoughtes all, So that for fear almost she gan to fall.

The cloudy thought is of the loss of liberty and security, the stormy life, and the malice of wicked tongues, that love entails:

[But] after that her thought began to clear, And saide, "He that nothing undertakes Nothing achieveth, be him *loth or dear."* *unwilling or desirous* And with another thought her hearte quakes; Then sleepeth hope, and after dread awakes, Now hot, now cold; but thus betwixt the tway* *two She rist* her up, and wente forth to play.** *rose **take recreation

Adown the stair anon right then she went Into a garden, with her nieces three, And up and down they made many a went,* *winding, turn Flexippe and she, Tarke, Antigone, To playe, that it joy was for to see; And other of her women, a great rout,* *troop Her follow'd in the garden all about.

This yard was large, and railed the alleys, And shadow'd well with blossomy boughes green, And benched new, and sanded all the ways, In which she walked arm and arm between; Till at the last Antigone the sheen* *bright, lovely Gan on a Trojan lay to singe clear, That it a heaven was her voice to hear.

Antigone's song is of virtuous love for a noble object; and it is singularly fitted to deepen the impression made on the mind of Cressida by the brave aspect of Troilus, and by her own cogitations. The singer, having praised the lover and rebuked the revilers of love, proceeds:

"What is the Sunne worse of his *kind right,* *true nature* Though that a man, for feebleness of eyen, May not endure to see on it for bright? Or Love the worse, tho' wretches on it cryen? No weal* is worth, that may no sorrow drien;** *happiness **endure And forthy,* who that hath a head of verre,** *therefore **glass From cast of stones ware him in the werre.

"But I, with all my heart and all my might, As I have lov'd, will love unto my last My deare heart, and all my owen knight, In which my heart y-growen is so fast, And his in me, that it shall ever last *All dread I* first to love him begin, *although I feared* Now wot I well there is no pain therein."

Cressida sighs, and asks Antigone whether there is such bliss among these lovers, as they can fair endite; Antigone replies confidently in the affirmative; and Cressida answers nothing, "but every worde which she heard she gan to printen in her hearte fast." Night draws on:

The daye's honour, and the heaven's eye, The nighte's foe, — all this call I the Sun, — Gan westren* fast, and downward for to wry,** *go west **turn As he that had his daye's course y-run; And white thinges gan to waxe dun For lack of light, and starres to appear; Then she and all her folk went home in fere.* *in company

So, when it liked her to go to rest, And voided* were those that voiden ought, *gone out (of the house) She saide, that to sleepe well her lest.* *pleased Her women soon unto her bed her brought; When all was shut, then lay she still and thought Of all these things the manner and the wise; Rehearse it needeth not, for ye be wise.

A nightingale upon a cedar green, Under the chamber wall where as she lay, Full loude sang against the moone sheen, Parauntre,* in his birde's wise, a lay *perchance Of love, that made her hearte fresh and gay; Hereat hark'd* she so long in good intent, *listened Till at the last the deade sleep her hent.* *seized

And as she slept, anon right then *her mette* *she dreamed* How that an eagle, feather'd white as bone, Under her breast his longe clawes set, And out her heart he rent, and that anon, And did* his heart into her breast to go'n, *caused Of which no thing she was *abash'd nor smert;* *amazed nor hurt* And forth he flew, with hearte left for heart.

Leaving Cressida to sleep, the poet returns to Troilus and his zealous friend — with whose stratagems to bring the two lovers together the remainder of the Second Book is occupied. Pandarus counsels Troilus to write a letter to his mistress, telling her how he "fares amiss," and "beseeching her of ruth;" he will bear the letter to his niece; and, if Troilus will ride past Cressida's house, he will find his mistress and his friend sitting at a window. Saluting Pandarus, and not tarrying, his passage will give occasion for some talk of him, which may make his ears glow. With respect to the letter, Pandarus gives some shrewd hints:

"Touching thy letter, thou art wise enough, I wot thou *n'ilt it dignely endite* *wilt not write it haughtily* Or make it with these argumentes tough, Nor scrivener-like, nor craftily it write; Beblot it with thy tears also a lite;* *little And if thou write a goodly word all soft, Though it be good, rehearse it not too oft.

"For though the beste harper *pon live* *alive Would on the best y-sounded jolly harp That ever was, with all his fingers five Touch ay one string, or *ay one warble harp,* *always play one tune* Were his nailes pointed ne'er so sharp, He shoulde maken ev'ry wight to dull* *to grow bored To hear his glee, and of his strokes full.

"Nor jompre* eke no discordant thing y-fere,** *jumble **together As thus, to use termes of physic; In love's termes hold of thy mattere The form alway, and *do that it be like;* *make it consistent* For if a painter woulde paint a pike With ass's feet, and head it as an ape, It *'cordeth not,* so were it but a jape." *is not harmonious*

Troilus writes the letter, and next morning Pandarus bears it to Cressida. She refuses to receive "scrip or bill that toucheth such mattere;" but he thrusts it into her bosom, challenging her to throw it away. She retains it, takes the first opportunity of escaping to her chamber to read it, finds it wholly good, and, under her uncle's dictation, endites a reply telling her lover that she will not make herself bound in love; "but as his sister, him to please, she would aye fain [be glad] to do his heart an ease." Pandarus, under pretext of inquiring who is the owner of the house opposite, has gone to the window; Cressida takes her letter to him there, and tells him that she never did a thing with more pain than write the words to which he had constrained her. As they sit side by side, on a stone of jasper, on a cushion of beaten gold, Troilus rides by, in all his goodliness. Cressida waxes "as red as rose," as she sees him salute humbly, "with dreadful cheer, and oft his hues mue [change];" she likes "all y-fere, his person, his array, his look, his cheer, his goodly manner, and his gentleness;" so that, however she may have been before, "to goode hope now hath she caught a thorn, she shall not pull it out this nexte week." Pandarus, striking the iron when it is hot, asks his niece to grant Troilus an interview; but she strenuously declines, for fear of scandal, and because it is all too soon to allow him so great a liberty — her purpose being to love him unknown of all, "and guerdon [reward] him with nothing but with sight." Pandarus has other intentions; and, while Troilus writes daily letters with increasing love, he contrives the means of an interview. Seeking out Deiphobus, the brother of Troilus, he tells him that Cressida is in danger of violence from Polyphete, and asks protection for her. Deiphobus gladly complies, promises the protection of Hector and Helen, and goes to invite Cressida to dinner on the morrow. Meantime Pandarus instructs Troilus to go to the house of Deiphobus, plead an access of his fever for remaining all night, and keep his chamber next day. "Lo," says the crafty promoter of love, borrowing a phrase from the hunting-field; "Lo, hold thee at thy tristre [tryst ] close, and I shall well the deer unto thy bowe drive." Unsuspicious of stratagem, Cressida comes to dinner; and at table, Helen, Pandarus, and others, praise the absent Troilus, until "her heart laughs" for very pride that she has the love of such a knight. After dinner they speak of Cressida's business; all confirm Deiphobus' assurances of protection and aid; and Pandarus suggests that, since Troilus is there, Cressida shall herself tell him her case. Helen and Deiphobus alone accompany Pandarus to Troilus' chamber; there Troilus produces some documents relating to the public weal, which Hector has sent for his opinion; Helen and Deiphobus, engrossed in perusal and discussion, roam out of the chamber, by a stair, into the garden; while Pandarus goes down to the hall, and, pretending that his brother and Helen are still with Troilus, brings Cressida to her lover. The Second Book leaves Pandarus whispering in his niece's ear counsel to be merciful and kind to her lover, that hath for her such pain; while Troilus lies "in a kankerdort," hearing the whispering without, and wondering what he shall say for this "was the first time that he should her pray of love; O! mighty God! what shall he say?"

THE THIRD BOOK.

To the Third Book is prefixed a beautiful invocation of Venus, under the character of light:

O Blissful light, of which the beames clear Adornen all the thirde heaven fair! O Sunne's love, O Jove's daughter dear! Pleasance of love, O goodly debonair,* *lovely and gracious* In gentle heart ay* ready to repair!** *always **enter and abide O very* cause of heal** and of gladness, *true **welfare Y-heried* be thy might and thy goodness! *praised

In heav'n and hell, in earth and salte sea. Is felt thy might, if that I well discern; As man, bird, beast, fish, herb, and greene tree, They feel in times, with vapour etern, God loveth, and to love he will not wern forbid And in this world no living creature Withoute love is worth, or may endure.

Ye Jove first to those effectes glad, Through which that thinges alle live and be, Commended; and him amorous y-made Of mortal thing; and as ye list,* ay ye *pleased Gave him, in love, ease* or adversity, *pleasure And in a thousand formes down him sent For love in earth; and *whom ye list he hent.* *he seized whom you wished* Ye fierce Mars appeasen of his ire, And as you list ye make heartes dign* *worthy Algates* them that ye will set afire, *at all events They dreade shame, and vices they resign Ye do* him courteous to be, and benign; *make, cause And high or low, after* a wight intendeth, *according as The joyes that he hath your might him sendeth.

Ye holde realm and house in unity; Ye soothfast* cause of friendship be also; *true Ye know all thilke *cover'd quality* *secret power* Of thinges which that folk on wonder so, When they may not construe how it may go She loveth him, or why he loveth her, As why this fish, not that, comes to the weir.* *fish-trap

Knowing that Venus has set a law in the universe, that whoso strives with her shall have the worse, the poet prays to be taught to describe some of the joy that is felt in her service; and the Third Book opens with an account of the scene between Troilus and Cressida:

Lay all this meane while Troilus Recording* his lesson in this mannere; *memorizing *"My fay!"* thought he, "thus will I say, and thus; *by my faith!* Thus will I plain* unto my lady dear; *make my plaint That word is good; and this shall be my cheer This will I not forgetten in no wise;" God let him worken as he can devise.

And, Lord! so as his heart began to quap,* *quake, pant Hearing her coming, and *short for to sike;* *make short sighs* And Pandarus, that led her by the lap,* *skirt Came near, and gan in at the curtain pick,* *peep And saide: "God do boot* alle sick! *afford a remedy to See who is here you coming to visite; Lo! here is she that is *your death to wite!"* *to blame for your death*

Therewith it seemed as he wept almost. "Ah! ah! God help!" quoth Troilus ruefully; "Whe'er* me be woe, O mighty God, thou know'st! *whether Who is there? for I see not truely." "Sir," quoth Cresside, "it is Pandare and I; "Yea, sweete heart? alas, I may not rise To kneel and do you honour in some wise."

And dressed him upward, and she right tho* *then Gan both her handes soft upon him lay. "O! for the love of God, do ye not so To me," quoth she; "ey! what is this to say? For come I am to you for causes tway;* *two First you to thank, and of your lordship eke Continuance* I woulde you beseek."** *protection **beseech

This Troilus, that heard his lady pray Him of lordship, wax'd neither quick nor dead; Nor might one word for shame to it say, Although men shoulde smiten off his head. But, Lord! how he wax'd suddenly all red! And, Sir, his lesson, that he *ween'd have con,* *thought he knew To praye her, was through his wit y-run. by heart*

Cresside all this espied well enow, — For she was wise, — and lov'd him ne'er the less, All n'ere he malapert, nor made avow, Nor was so bold to sing a foole's mass; But, when his shame began somewhat to pass, His wordes, as I may my rhymes hold, I will you tell, as teache bookes old.

In changed voice, right for his very dread, Which voice eke quak'd, and also his mannere Goodly* abash'd, and now his hue is red, *becomingly Now pale, unto Cresside, his lady dear, With look downcast, and humble *yielden cheer,* *submissive face* Lo! *altherfirste word that him astert,* *the first word he said* Was twice: "Mercy, mercy, my dear heart!"

And stent* a while; and when he might *out bring,* *stopped *speak* The nexte was: "God wote, for I have, *As farforthly as I have conning,* *as far as I am able* Been youres all, God so my soule save, And shall, till that I, woeful wight, *be grave;* *die* And though I dare not, cannot, to you plain, Y-wis, I suffer not the lesse pain.

"This much as now, O womanlike wife! I may *out bring,* and if it you displease, *speak out* That shall I wreak* upon mine owne life, *avenge Right soon, I trow, and do your heart an ease, If with my death your heart I may appease: But, since that ye have heard somewhat say, Now reck I never how soon that I dey." *die

Therewith his manly sorrow to behold It might have made a heart of stone to rue; And Pandare wept as he to water wo'ld, And saide, "Woe-begone* be heartes true," *in woeful plight And procur'd* his niece ever new and new, *urged "For love of Godde, make *of him an end,* *put him out of pain* Or slay us both at ones, ere we wend."* *go

"Ey! what?" quoth she; "by God and by my truth, I know not what ye woulde that I say;" "Ey! what?" quoth he; "that ye have on him ruth,* *pity For Godde's love, and do him not to dey." *die "Now thenne thus," quoth she, "I would him pray To telle me the *fine of his intent;* *end of his desire* Yet wist* I never well what that he meant." *knew

"What that I meane, sweete hearte dear?" Quoth Troilus, "O goodly, fresh, and free! That, with the streames* of your eyne so clear, *beams, glances Ye woulde sometimes *on me rue and see,* *take pity and look on me* And then agreen* that I may be he, *take in good part Withoute branch of vice, in any wise, In truth alway to do you my service,

"As to my lady chief, and right resort, With all my wit and all my diligence; And for to have, right as you list, comfort; Under your yerd,* equal to mine offence, *rod, chastisement As death, if that *I breake your defence;* *do what you And that ye deigne me so much honour, forbid * Me to commanden aught in any hour.

"And I to be your very humble, true, Secret, and in my paines patient, And evermore desire, freshly new, To serven, and be alike diligent, And, with good heart, all wholly your talent Receive in gree,* how sore that me smart; *gladness Lo, this mean I, mine owen sweete heart."

. . . . . . . . . .

With that she gan her eyen on him* cast, *Pandarus Full easily and full debonairly,* *graciously *Advising her,* and hied* not too fast, *considering* **went With ne'er a word, but said him softely, "Mine honour safe, I will well truely, And in such form as ye can now devise, Receive him* fully to my service; *Troilus

"Beseeching him, for Godde's love, that he Would, in honour of truth and gentleness, As I well mean, eke meane well to me; And mine honour, with *wit and business,* *wisdom and zeal* Aye keep; and if I may do him gladness, From henceforth, y-wis I will not feign: Now be all whole, no longer do ye plain.

"But, natheless, this warn I you," quoth she, "A kinge's son although ye be, y-wis, Ye shall no more have sovereignety Of me in love, than right in this case is; Nor will I forbear, if ye do amiss, To wrathe* you, and, while that ye me serve, *be angry with, chide To cherish you, *right after ye deserve.* *as you deserve*

"And shortly, deare heart, and all my knight, Be glad, and drawe you to lustiness,* *pleasure And I shall truely, with all my might, Your bitter turnen all to sweeteness; If I be she that may do you gladness, For ev'ry woe ye shall recover a bliss:" And him in armes took, and gan him kiss.

Pandarus, almost beside himself for joy, falls on his knees to thank Venus and Cupid, declaring that for this miracle he hears all the bells ring; then, with a warning to be ready at his call to meet at his house, he parts the lovers, and attends Cressida while she takes leave of the household — Troilus all the time groaning at the deceit practised on his brother and Helen. When he has got rid of them by feigning weariness, Pandarus returns to the chamber, and spends the night with him in converse. The zealous friend begins to speak "in a sober wise" to Troilus, reminding him of his love-pains now all at an end.

"So that through me thou standest now in way To fare well; I say it for no boast; And know'st thou why? For, shame it is to say, For thee have I begun a game to play, Which that I never shall do eft* for other,** *again **another Although he were a thousand fold my brother.

"That is to say, for thee I am become, Betwixte game and earnest, such a mean* *means, instrument As make women unto men to come; Thou know'st thyselfe what that woulde mean; For thee have I my niece, of vices clean,* *pure, devoid So fully made thy gentleness* to trust, *nobility of nature That all shall be right *as thyselfe lust.* *as you please*

"But God, that *all wot,* take I to witness, *knows everything* That never this for covetise* I wrought, *greed of gain But only to abridge* thy distress, *abate For which well nigh thou diedst, as me thought; But, goode brother, do now as thee ought, For Godde's love, and keep her out of blame; Since thou art wise, so save thou her name.

"For, well thou know'st, the name yet of her, Among the people, as who saith hallow'd is; For that man is unborn, I dare well swear, That ever yet wist* that she did amiss; *knew But woe is me, that I, that cause all this, May thinke that she is my niece dear, And I her eme,* and traitor eke y-fere.** *uncle **as well

"And were it wist that I, through mine engine,* *arts, contrivance Had in my niece put this fantasy* *fancy To do thy lust,* and wholly to be thine, *pleasure Why, all the people would upon it cry, And say, that I the worste treachery Did in this case, that ever was begun, And she fordone,* and thou right naught y-won." *ruined

Therefore, ere going a step further, Pandarus prays Troilus to give him pledges of secrecy, and impresses on his mind the mischiefs that flow from vaunting in affairs of love. "Of kind,"[by his very nature] he says, no vaunter is to be believed:

"For a vaunter and a liar all is one; As thus: I pose* a woman granteth me *suppose, assume Her love, and saith that other will she none, And I am sworn to holden it secre, And, after, I go tell it two or three; Y-wis, I am a vaunter, at the least, And eke a liar, for I break my hest.* *promise

"Now looke then, if they be not to blame, Such manner folk; what shall I call them, what? That them avaunt of women, and by name, That never yet behight* them this nor that, *promised (much Nor knowe them no more than mine old hat? less granted) No wonder is, so God me sende heal,* *prosperity Though women dreade with us men to deal!

"I say not this for no mistrust of you, Nor for no wise men, but for fooles nice;* *silly And for the harm that in the world is now, As well for folly oft as for malice; For well wot I, that in wise folk that vice No woman dreads, if she be well advised; For wise men be by fooles' harm chastised."* *corrected, instructed

So Pandarus begs Troilus to keep silent, promises to be true all his days, and assures him that he shall have all that he will in the love of Cressida: "thou knowest what thy lady granted thee; and day is set the charters up to make."

Who mighte telle half the joy and feast Which that the soul of Troilus then felt, Hearing th'effect of Pandarus' behest? His olde woe, that made his hearte swelt,* *faint, die Gan then for joy to wasten and to melt, And all the reheating of his sighes sore At ones fled, he felt of them no more.

But right so as these *holtes and these hayes,* *woods and hedges* That have in winter deade been and dry, Reveste them in greene, when that May is, When ev'ry *lusty listeth* best to play; *pleasant (one) wishes* Right in that selfe wise, sooth to say, Wax'd suddenly his hearte full of joy, That gladder was there never man in Troy.

Troilus solemnly swears that never, "for all the good that God made under sun," will he reveal what Pandarus asks him to keep secret; offering to die a thousand times, if need were, and to follow his friend as a slave all his life, in proof of his gratitude.

"But here, with all my heart, I thee beseech, That never in me thou deeme* such folly *judge As I shall say; me thoughte, by thy speech, That this which thou me dost for company,* *friendship I shoulde ween it were a bawdery;* *a bawd's action *I am not wood, all if I lewed be;* *I am not mad, though It is not one, that wot I well, pardie! I be unlearned*

"But he that goes for gold, or for richess, On such messages, call him *as thee lust;* *what you please* And this that thou dost, call it gentleness, Compassion, and fellowship, and trust; Depart it so, for widewhere is wist How that there is diversity requer'd Betwixte thinges like, as I have lear'd.

"And that thou know I think it not nor ween,* *suppose That this service a shame be or a jape, *subject for jeering I have my faire sister Polyxene, Cassandr', Helene, or any of the frape;* *set Be she never so fair, or well y-shape, Telle me which thou wilt of ev'ry one, To have for thine, and let me then alone."

Then, beseeching Pandarus soon to perform out the great enterprise of crowning his love for Cressida, Troilus bade his friend good night. On the morrow Troilus burned as the fire, for hope and pleasure; yet "he not forgot his wise governance [self- control];"

But in himself with manhood gan restrain Each rakel* deed, and each unbridled cheer,** *rash **demeanour That alle those that live, sooth to sayn, Should not have wist,* by word or by mannere, *suspicion What that he meant, as touching this mattere; From ev'ry wight as far as is the cloud He was, so well dissimulate he could.

And all the while that I now devise* *describe, narrate This was his life: with all his fulle might, By day he was in Marte's high service, That is to say, in armes as a knight; And, for the moste part, the longe night He lay, and thought how that he mighte serve His lady best, her thank* for to deserve. *gratitude

I will not swear, although he laye soft, That in his thought he n'as somewhat diseas'd;* *troubled Nor that he turned on his pillows oft, And would of that him missed have been seis'd;* *possessed But in such case men be not alway pleas'd, For aught I wot, no more than was he; That can I deem* of possibility. *judge

But certain is, to purpose for to go, That in this while, as written is in gest,* *the history of He saw his lady sometimes, and also these events She with him spake, when that she *durst and lest;* *dared and pleased* And, by their both advice,* as was the best, *consultation *Appointed full warily* in this need, *made careful preparations* So as they durst, how far they would proceed.

But it was spoken in *so short a wise, *so briefly, and always in such In such await alway, and in such fear, vigilance and fear of being Lest any wight divinen or devise* found out by anyone* Would of their speech, or to it lay an ear, *That all this world them not so lefe were,* *they wanted more than As that Cupido would them grace send anything in the world* To maken of their speeches right an end.

But thilke little that they spake or wrought, His wise ghost* took ay of all such heed, *spirit It seemed her he wiste what she thought Withoute word, so that it was no need To bid him aught to do, nor aught forbid; For which she thought that love, all* came it late, *although Of alle joy had open'd her the gate.

Troilus, by his discretion, his secrecy, and his devotion, made ever a deeper lodgment in Cressida's heart; so that she thanked God twenty thousand times that she had met with a man who, as she felt, "was to her a wall of steel, and shield from ev'ry displeasance;" while Pandarus ever actively fanned the fire. So passed a "time sweet" of tranquil and harmonious love the only drawback being, that the lovers might not often meet, "nor leisure have, their speeches to fulfil." At last Pandarus found an occasion for bringing them together at his house unknown to anybody, and put his plan in execution.

For he, with great deliberation, Had ev'ry thing that hereto might avail* *be of service Forecast, and put in execution, And neither left for cost nor for travail;* *effort Come if them list, them shoulde nothing fail, *Nor for to be in aught espied there, That wiste he an impossible were.* *he knew it was impossible* that they could be discovered there* And dreadeless* it clear was in the wind *without doubt Of ev'ry pie, and every let-game; Now all is well, for all this world is blind, In this mattere, bothe fremd* and tame; *wild This timber is all ready for to frame; Us lacketh naught, but that we weete* wo'ld *know A certain hour in which we come sho'ld.

Troilus had informed his household, that if at any time he was missing, he had gone to worship at a certain temple of Apollo, "and first to see the holy laurel quake, or that the godde spake out of the tree." So, at the changing of the moon, when "the welkin shope him for to rain," [when the sky was preparing to rain] Pandarus went to invite his niece to supper; solemnly assuring her that Troilus was out of the town — though all the time he was safely shut up, till midnight, in "a little stew," whence through a hole he joyously watched the arrival of his mistress and her fair niece Antigone, with half a score of her women. After supper Pandaras did everything to amuse his niece; "he sung, he play'd, he told a tale of Wade;" at last she would take her leave; but

The bente Moone with her hornes pale, Saturn, and Jove, in Cancer joined were, That made such a rain from heav'n avail,* *descend That ev'ry manner woman that was there Had of this smoky rain a very fear; At which Pandarus laugh'd, and saide then "Now were it time a lady to go hen!"* *hence

He therefore presses Cressida to remain all night; she complies with a good grace; and after the sleeping cup has gone round, all retire to their chambers — Cressida, that she may not be disturbed by the rain and thunder, being lodged in the "inner closet" of Pandarus, who, to lull suspicion, occupies the outer chamber, his niece's women sleeping in the intermediate apartment. When all is quiet, Pandarus liberates Troilus, and by a secret passage brings him to the chamber of Cressida; then, going forward alone to his niece, after calming her fears of discovery, he tells her that her lover has "through a gutter, by a privy went," [a secret passage] come to his house in all this rain, mad with grief because a friend has told him that she loves Horastes. Suddenly cold about her heart, Cressida promises that on the morrow she will reassure her lover; but Pandarus scouts the notion of delay, laughs to scorn her proposal to send her ring in pledge of her truth, and finally, by pitiable accounts of Troilus' grief, induces her to receive him and reassure him at once with her own lips.

This Troilus full soon on knees him set, Full soberly, right by her bedde's head, And in his beste wise his lady gret* *greeted But Lord! how she wax'd suddenly all red, And thought anon how that she would be dead; She coulde not one word aright out bring, So suddenly for his sudden coming.

Cressida, though thinking that her servant and her knight should not have doubted her truth, yet sought to remove his jealousy, and offered to submit to any ordeal or oath he might impose; then, weeping, she covered her face, and lay silent. "But now," exclaims the poet —

But now help, God, to quenchen all this sorrow! So hope I that he shall, for he best may; For I have seen, of a full misty morrow,* *morn Followen oft a merry summer's day, And after winter cometh greene May; Folk see all day, and eke men read in stories, That after sharpe stoures* be victories. *conflicts, struggles

Believing his mistress to be angry, Troilus felt the cramp of death seize on his heart, "and down he fell all suddenly in swoon." Pandarus "into bed him cast," and called on his niece to pull out the thorn that stuck in his heart, by promising that she would "all forgive." She whispered in his ear the assurance that she was not wroth; and at last, under her caresses, he recovered consciousness, to find her arm laid over him, to hear the assurance of her forgiveness, and receive her frequent kisses. Fresh vows and explanations passed; and Cressida implored forgiveness of "her own sweet heart," for the pain she had caused him. Surprised with sudden bliss, Troilus put all in God's hand, and strained his lady fast in his arms. "What might or may the seely [innocent] larke say, when that the sperhawk [sparrowhawk] hath him in his foot?"

Cressida, which that felt her thus y-take, As write clerkes in their bookes old, Right as an aspen leaf began to quake, When she him felt her in his armes fold; But Troilus, all *whole of cares cold,* *cured of painful sorrows* Gan thanke then the blissful goddes seven. Thus sundry paines bringe folk to heaven.

This Troilus her gan in armes strain, And said, "O sweet, as ever may I go'n,* *prosper Now be ye caught, now here is but we twain, Now yielde you, for other boot* is none." *remedy To that Cresside answered thus anon, "N' had I ere now, my sweete hearte dear, *Been yolden,* y-wis, I were now not here!" *yielded myself*

O sooth is said, that healed for to be Of a fever, or other great sickness, Men muste drink, as we may often see, Full bitter drink; and for to have gladness Men drinken often pain and great distress! I mean it here, as for this adventure, That thorough pain hath founden all his cure.

And now sweetnesse seemeth far more sweet, That bitterness assayed* was beforn; *tasted For out of woe in blisse now they fleet,* *float, swim None such they felte since that they were born; Now is it better than both two were lorn! For love of God, take ev'ry woman heed To worke thus, if it come to the need!

Cresside, all quit from ev'ry dread and teen,* *pain As she that juste cause had him to trust, Made him such feast, it joy was for to see'n, When she his truth and *intent cleane wist;* *knew the purity And as about a tree, with many a twist, of his purpose* *Bitrent and writhen* is the sweet woodbind, *plaited and wreathed* Gan each of them in armes other wind.* *embrace, encircle

And as the *new abashed* nightingale, *newly-arrived and timid* That stinteth,* first when she beginneth sing, *stops When that she heareth any *herde's tale,* *the talking of a shepherd* Or in the hedges any wight stirring; And, after, sicker* out her voice doth ring; *confidently Right so Cressida, when *her dreade stent,* *her doubt ceased* Open'd her heart, and told him her intent.* *mind

And might as he that sees his death y-shapen,* *prepared And dien must, *in aught that he may guess,* *for all he can tell* And suddenly *rescouse doth him escapen,* *he is rescued and escapes* And from his death is brought *in sickerness;* *to safety* For all the world, in such present gladness Was Troilus, and had his lady sweet; With worse hap God let us never meet!

Her armes small, her straighte back and soft, Her sides longe, fleshly, smooth, and white, He gan to stroke; and good thrift* bade full oft *blessing On her snow-white throat, her breastes round and lite;* *small Thus in this heaven he gan him delight, And therewithal a thousand times her kist, That what to do for joy *unneth he wist.* *he hardly knew*

The lovers exchanged vows, and kisses, and embraces, and speeches of exalted love, and rings; Cressida gave to Troilus a brooch of gold and azure, "in which a ruby set was like a heart;" and the too short night passed.

"When that the cock, commune astrologer, Gan on his breast to beat, and after crow, And Lucifer, the daye's messenger, Gan for to rise, and out his beames throw; And eastward rose, to him that could it know, Fortuna Major, then anon Cresseide, With hearte sore, to Troilus thus said:

"My hearte's life, my trust, and my pleasance! That I was born, alas! that me is woe, That day of us must make disseverance! For time it is to rise, and hence to go, Or else I am but lost for evermo'. O Night! alas! why n'ilt thou o'er us hove,* *hover As long as when Alcmena lay by Jove?

"O blacke Night! as folk in bookes read That shapen* art by God, this world to hide, *appointed At certain times, with thy darke weed,* *robe That under it men might in rest abide, Well oughte beastes plain, and folke chide, That where as Day with labour would us brest,* *burst, overcome There thou right flee'st, and deignest* not us rest.* *grantest

"Thou dost, alas! so shortly thine office,* *duty Thou rakel* Night! that God, maker of kind, *rash, hasty Thee for thy haste and thine unkinde vice, So fast ay to our hemisphere bind, That never more under the ground thou wind;* *turn, revolve For through thy rakel hieing* out of Troy *hasting Have I forgone* thus hastily my joy!" *lost

This Troilus, that with these wordes felt, As thought him then, for piteous distress, The bloody teares from his hearte melt, As he that never yet such heaviness Assayed had out of so great gladness, Gan therewithal Cresside, his lady dear, In armes strain, and said in this mannere:

"O cruel Day! accuser of the joy That Night and Love have stol'n, and *fast y-wrien!* *closely Accursed be thy coming into Troy! concealed* For ev'ry bow'r* hath one of thy bright eyen: *chamber Envious Day! Why list thee to espyen? What hast thou lost? Why seekest thou this place? There God thy light so quenche, for his grace!

"Alas! what have these lovers thee aguilt?* *offended, sinned against Dispiteous* Day, thine be the pains of hell! *cruel, spiteful For many a lover hast thou slain, and wilt; Thy peering in will nowhere let them dwell: What! proff'rest thou thy light here for to sell? Go sell it them that smalle seales grave!* *cut devices on We will thee not, us needs no day to have."

And eke the Sunne, Titan, gan he chide, And said, "O fool! well may men thee despise! That hast the Dawning all night thee beside, And suff'rest her so soon up from thee rise, For to disease* us lovers in this wise! *annoy What! hold* thy bed, both thou, and eke thy Morrow! *keep I bidde* God so give you bothe sorrow!" *pray

The lovers part with many sighs and protestations of unswerving and undying love; Cressida responding to the vows of Troilus with the assurance —

"That first shall Phoebus* falle from his sphere, *the sun And heaven's eagle be the dove's fere, And ev'ry rock out of his place start, Ere Troilus out of Cressida's heart."

When Pandarus visits Troilus in his palace later in the day, he warns him not to mar his bliss by any fault of his own:

"For, of Fortune's sharp adversity, The worste kind of infortune is this, A man to have been in prosperity, And it remember when it passed is. Thou art wise enough; forthy,*" do not amiss; *therefore Be not too rakel,* though thou sitte warm; *rash, over-hasty For if thou be, certain it will thee harm.

"Thou art at ease, and hold thee well therein; For, all so sure as red is ev'ry fire, As great a craft is to keep weal as win; Bridle alway thy speech and thy desire, For worldly joy holds not but by a wire; That proveth well, it breaks all day so oft, Forthy need is to worke with it soft."

Troilus sedulously observes the counsel; and the lovers have many renewals of their pleasure, and of their bitter chidings of the Day. The effects of love on Troilus are altogether refining and ennobling; as may be inferred from the song which he sung often to Pandarus:

The Second Song of Troilus.

"Love, that of Earth and Sea hath governance! Love, that his hestes* hath in Heaven high! *commandments Love, that with a right wholesome alliance Holds people joined, as him list them guy!* *guide Love, that knitteth law and company, And couples doth in virtue for to dwell, Bind this accord, that I have told, and tell!

"That the worlde, with faith which that is stable, Diverseth so, his *stoundes according;* *according to its seasons* That elementes, that be discordable,* *discordant Holden a bond perpetually during; That Phoebus may his rosy day forth bring; And that the Moon hath lordship o'er the night; — All this doth Love, ay heried* be his might! *praised

"That the sea, which that greedy is to flowen, Constraineth to a certain ende* so *limit His floodes, that so fiercely they not growen To drenchen* earth and all for evermo'; *drown And if that Love aught let his bridle go, All that now loves asunder shoulde leap, And lost were all that Love holds now *to heap.* *together *

"So woulde God, that author is of kind, That with his bond Love of his virtue list To cherish heartes, and all fast to bind, That from his bond no wight the way out wist! And heartes cold, them would I that he twist,* *turned To make them love; and that him list ay rue* *have pity On heartes sore, and keep them that be true."

But Troilus' love had higher fruits than singing:

In alle needes for the towne's werre* *war He was, and ay the first in armes dight,* *equipped, prepared And certainly, but if that bookes err, Save Hector, most y-dread* of any wight; *dreaded And this increase of hardiness* and might *courage Came him of love, his lady's grace to win, That altered his spirit so within.

In time of truce, a-hawking would he ride, Or elles hunt the boare, bear, lioun; The smalle beastes let he go beside; And when he came riding into the town, Full oft his lady, from her window down, As fresh as falcon coming out of mew,* *cage Full ready was him goodly to salue.* *salute

And most of love and virtue was his speech, And *in despite he had all wretchedness* *he held in scorn all And doubtless no need was him to beseech despicable actions* To honour them that hadde worthiness, And ease them that weren in distress; And glad was he, if any wight well far'd, That lover was, when he it wist or heard.

For he held every man lost unless he were in Love's service; and, so did the power of Love work within him, that he was ay [always] humble and benign, and "pride, envy, ire, and avarice, he gan to flee, and ev'ry other vice."

THE FOURTH BOOK

A BRIEF Proem to the Fourth Book prepares us for the treachery of Fortune to Troilus; from whom she turned away her bright face, and took of him no heed, "and cast him clean out of his lady's grace, and on her wheel she set up Diomede." Then the narrative describes a skirmish in which the Trojans were worsted, and Antenor, with many of less note, remained in the hands of the Greeks. A truce was proclaimed for the exchange of prisoners; and as soon as Calchas heard the news, he came to the assembly of the Greeks, to "bid a boon." Having gained audience, he reminded the besiegers how he had come from Troy to aid and encourage them in their enterprise; willing to lose all that he had in the city, except his daughter Cressida, whom he bitterly reproached himself for leaving behind. And now, with streaming tears and pitiful prayer, he besought them to exchange Antenor for Cressida; assuring them that the day was at hand when they should have both town and people. The soothsayer's petition was granted; and the ambassadors charged to negotiate the exchange, entering the city, told their errand to King Priam and his parliament.

This Troilus was present in the place When asked was for Antenor Cresside; For which to change soon began his face, As he that with the wordes well nigh died; But natheless he no word to it seid;* *said Lest men should his affection espy, With manne's heart he gan his sorrows drie;* *endure

And, full of anguish and of grisly dread, Abode what other lords would to it say, And if they woulde grant, — as God forbid! — Th'exchange of her, then thought he thinges tway:* *two First, for to save her honour; and what way He mighte best th'exchange of her withstand; This cast he then how all this mighte stand.

Love made him alle *prest to do her bide,* *eager to make her stay* And rather die than that she shoulde go; But Reason said him, on the other side, "Without th'assent of her, do thou not so, Lest for thy worke she would be thy foe; And say, that through thy meddling is y-blow* *divulged, blown abroad Your bothe love, where it was *erst unknow."* *previously unknown*

For which he gan deliberate for the best, That though the lordes woulde that she went, He woulde suffer them grant what *them lest,* *they pleased* And tell his lady first what that they meant; And, when that she had told him her intent, Thereafter would he worken all so blive,* *speedily Though all the world against it woulde strive.

Hector, which that full well the Greekes heard, For Antenor how they would have Cresseide, Gan it withstand, and soberly answer'd; "Sirs, she is no prisoner," he said; "I know not on you who this charge laid; But, for my part, ye may well soon him tell, We use* here no women for to sell." *are accustomed

The noise of the people then upstart at once, As breme* as blaze of straw y-set on fire *violent, furious For Infortune* woulde for the nonce *Misfortune They shoulde their confusion desire "Hector," quoth they, "what ghost* may you inspire *spirit This woman thus to shield, and *do us* lose *cause us to* Dan Antenor? — a wrong way now ye choose, —

"That is so wise, and eke so bold baroun; And we have need of folk, as men may see He eke is one the greatest of this town; O Hector! lette such fantasies be! O King Priam!" quoth they, "lo! thus say we, That all our will is to forego Cresseide;" And to deliver Antenor they pray'd.

Though Hector often prayed them "nay," it was resolved that Cressida should be given up for Antenor; then the parliament dispersed. Troilus hastened home to his chamber, shut himself up alone, and threw himself on his bed.

And as in winter leaves be bereft, Each after other, till the tree be bare, So that there is but bark and branch y-left, Lay Troilus, bereft of each welfare, Y-bounden in the blacke bark of care, Disposed *wood out of his wit to braid,* *to go out of his senses* *So sore him sat* the changing of Cresseide. *so ill did he bear*

He rose him up, and ev'ry door he shet,* *shut And window eke; and then this sorrowful man Upon his bedde's side adown him set, Full like a dead image, pale and wan, And in his breast the heaped woe began Out burst, and he to worken in this wise, In his woodness,* as I shall you devise.** *madness **relate

Right as the wilde bull begins to spring, Now here, now there, y-darted* to the heart, *pierced with a dart And of his death roareth in complaining; Right so gan he about the chamber start, Smiting his breast aye with his fistes smart;* *painfully, cruelly His head to the wall, his body to the ground, Full oft he swapt,* himselfe to confound. *struck, dashed

His eyen then, for pity of his heart, Out streameden as swifte welles* tway; *fountains The highe sobbes of his sorrow's smart His speech him reft; unnethes* might he say, *scarcely "O Death, alas! *why n'ilt thou do me dey?* *why will you not Accursed be that day which that Nature make me die?* Shope* me to be a living creature!" *shaped

Bitterly reviling Fortune, and calling on Love to explain why his happiness with Cressicla should be thus repealed, Troilus declares that, while he lives, he will bewail his misfortune in solitude, and will never see it shine or rain, but will end his sorrowful life in darkness, and die in distress.

"O weary ghost, that errest to and fro! Why n'ilt* thou fly out of the woefulest *wilt not Body that ever might on grounde go? O soule, lurking in this woeful nest! Flee forth out of my heart, and let it brest,* *burst And follow alway Cresside, thy lady dear! Thy righte place is now no longer here.

"O woeful eyen two! since your disport* *delight Was all to see Cressida's eyen bright, What shall ye do, but, for my discomfort, Stande for naught, and weepen out your sight, Since she is quench'd, that wont was you to light? In vain, from this forth, have I eyen tway Y-formed, since your virtue is away!

"O my Cresside! O lady sovereign Of thilke* woeful soule that now cryeth! *this Who shall now give comfort to thy pain? Alas! no wight; but, when my hearte dieth, My spirit, which that so unto you hieth,* *hasteneth Receive *in gree,* for that shall ay you serve; *with favour* *Forthy no force is* though the body sterve.* *therefore no matter* *die "O ye lovers, that high upon the wheel Be set of Fortune, in good adventure, God lene* that ye find ay** love of steel, *grant **always And longe may your life in joy endure! But when ye come by my sepulture,* *sepulchre Remember that your fellow resteth there; For I lov'd eke, though I unworthy were.

"O old, unwholesome, and mislived man, Calchas I mean, alas! what ailed thee To be a Greek, since thou wert born Trojan? O Calchas! which that will my bane* be, *destruction In cursed time wert thou born for me! As woulde blissful Jove, for his joy, That I thee hadde where I would in Troy!"

Soon Troilus, through excess of grief, fell into a trance; in which he was found by Pandarus, who had gone almost distracted at the news that Cressida was to be exchanged for Antenor. At his friend's arrival, Troilus "gan as the snow against the sun to melt;" the two mingled their tears a while; then Pandarus strove to comfort the woeful lover. He admitted that never had a stranger ruin than this been wrought by Fortune:

"But tell me this, why thou art now so mad To sorrow thus? Why li'st thou in this wise, Since thy desire all wholly hast thou had, So that by right it ought enough suffice? But I, that never felt in my service A friendly cheer or looking of an eye, Let me thus weep and wail until I die.

"And over all this, as thou well wost* thy selve, *knowest This town is full of ladies all about, And, *to my doom,* fairer than suche twelve *in my judgment* As ever she was, shall I find in some rout,* *company Yea! one or two, withouten any doubt: Forthy* be glad, mine owen deare brother! *therefore If she be lost, we shall recover another.

"What! God forbid alway that each pleasance In one thing were, and in none other wight; If one can sing, another can well dance; If this be goodly, she is glad and light; And this is fair, and that can good aright; Each for his virtue holden is full dear, Both heroner, and falcon for rivere.

"And eke as writ Zausis, that was full wise, The newe love out chaseth oft the old, And upon new case lieth new advice; Think eke thy life to save thou art hold;* *bound Such fire *by process shall of kinde cold;* *shall grow cold by For, since it is but casual pleasance, process of nature* Some case* shall put it out of remembrance. *chance

"For, all so sure as day comes after night, The newe love, labour, or other woe, Or elles seldom seeing of a wight, Do old affections all *over go;* *overcome* And for thy part, thou shalt have one of tho* *those T'abridge with thy bitter paine's smart; Absence of her shall drive her out of heart."

These wordes said he *for the nones all,* *only for the nonce* To help his friend, lest he for sorrow died; For, doubteless, to do his woe to fall,* *make his woe subside* He raughte* not what unthrift** that he said; *cared **folly But Troilus, that nigh for sorrow died, Took little heed of all that ever he meant; One ear it heard, at th'other out it went.

But, at the last, he answer'd and said, "Friend, This leachcraft, or y-healed thus to be, Were well sitting* if that I were a fiend, *recked To traisen* her that true is unto me: *betray I pray God, let this counsel never the,* *thrive But do me rather sterve* anon right here, *die Ere I thus do, as thou me wouldest lear!"* *teach

Troilus protests that his lady shall have him wholly hers till death; and, debating the counsels of his friend, declares that even if he would, he could not love another. Then he points out the folly of not lamenting the loss of Cressida because she had been his in ease and felicity — while Pandarus himself, though he thought it so light to change to and fro in love, had not done busily his might to change her that wrought him all the woe of his unprosperous suit.

"If thou hast had in love ay yet mischance, And canst it not out of thine hearte drive, I that lived in lust* and in pleasance *delight With her, as much as creature alive, How should I that forget, and that so blive?* *quickly O where hast thou been so long hid in mew,* *cage That canst so well and formally argue!"

The lover condemns the whole discourse of his friend as unworthy, and calls on Death, the ender of all sorrows, to come to him and quench his heart with his cold stroke. Then he distils anew in tears, "as liquor out of alembic;" and Pandarus is silent for a while, till he bethinks him to recommend to Troilus the carrying off of Cressida. "Art thou in Troy, and hast no hardiment [daring, boldness] to take a woman which that loveth thee?" But Troilus reminds his counsellor that all the war had come from the ravishing of a woman by might (the abduction of Helen by Paris); and that it would not beseem him to withstand his father's grant, since the lady was to be changed for the town's good. He has dismissed the thought of asking Cressida from his father, because that would be to injure her fair fame, to no purpose, for Priam could not overthrow the decision of "so high a place as parliament;" while most of all he fears to perturb her heart with violence, to the slander of her name — for he must hold her honour dearer than himself in every case, as lovers ought of right:

"Thus am I in desire and reason twight:* *twisted Desire, for to disturbe her, me redeth;* *counseleth And Reason will not, so my hearte dreadeth."* *is in doubt

Thus weeping, that he coulde never cease He said, "Alas! how shall I, wretche, fare? For well feel I alway my love increase, And hope is less and less alway, Pandare! Increasen eke the causes of my care; So well-away! *why n' ill my hearte brest?* *why will not For us in love there is but little rest." my heart break?*

Pandare answered, "Friend, thou may'st for me Do as thee list;* but had I it so hot, *please And thine estate,* she shoulde go with me! *rank Though all this town cried on this thing by note, I would not set* all that noise a groat; *value For when men have well cried, then will they rown,* *whisper Eke wonder lasts but nine nights ne'er in town.

"Divine not in reason ay so deep, Nor courteously, but help thyself anon; Bet* is that others than thyselfe weep; *better And namely, since ye two be all one, Rise up, for, by my head, she shall not go'n! And rather be in blame a little found, Than sterve* here as a gnat withoute wound! *die

"It is no shame unto you, nor no vice, Her to withholde, that ye loveth most; Parauntre* she might holde thee for nice,** *peradventure **foolish To let her go thus unto the Greeks' host; Think eke, Fortune, as well thyselfe wost, Helpeth the hardy man to his emprise, And weiveth* wretches for their cowardice. *forsaketh

"And though thy lady would a lite* her grieve, *little Thou shalt thyself thy peace thereafter make; But, as to me, certain I cannot 'lieve That she would it as now for evil take: Why shoulde then for fear thine hearte quake? Think eke how Paris hath, that is thy brother, A love; and why shalt thou not have another?

"And, Troilus, one thing I dare thee swear, That if Cressida, which that is thy lief,* *love Now loveth thee as well as thou dost her, God help me so, she will not take agrief* *amiss Though thou *anon do boot in* this mischief; *provide a remedy And if she willeth from thee for to pass, immediately* Then is she false, so love her well the lass.* *less

"Forthy,* take heart, and think, right as a knight, *therefore Through love is broken all day ev'ry law; Kithe* now somewhat thy courage and thy might; *show Have mercy on thyself, *for any awe;* *in spite of any fear* Let not this wretched woe thine hearte gnaw; But, manly, set the world on six and seven, And, if thou die a martyr, go to heaven."

Pandarus promises his friend all aid in the enterprise; it is agreed that Cressida shall be carried off, but only with her own consent; and Pandarus sets out for his niece's house, to arrange an interview. Meantime Cressida has heard the news; and, caring nothing for her father, but everything for Troilus, she burns in love and fear, unable to tell what she shall do.

But, as men see in town, and all about, That women use* friendes to visite, *are accustomed So to Cresside of women came a rout,* *troop For piteous joy, and *weened her delight,* *thought to please her* And with their tales, *dear enough a mite,* *not worth a mite* These women, which that in the city dwell, They set them down, and said as I shall tell.

Quoth first that one, "I am glad, truely, Because of you, that shall your father see;" Another said, "Y-wis, so am not I, For all too little hath she with us be."* *been Quoth then the third, "I hope, y-wis, that she Shall bringen us the peace on ev'ry side; Then, when she goes, Almighty God her guide!"

Those wordes, and those womanishe thinges, She heard them right as though she thennes* were, *thence; in some For, God it wot, her heart on other thing is; other place Although the body sat among them there, Her advertence* is always elleswhere; *attention For Troilus full fast her soule sought; Withoute word, on him alway she thought.

These women that thus weened her to please, Aboute naught gan all their tales spend; Such vanity ne can do her no ease, As she that all this meane while brenn'd Of other passion than that they wend;* *weened, supposed So that she felt almost her hearte die For woe, and weary* of that company. *weariness

For whiche she no longer might restrain Her teares, they began so up to well, That gave signes of her bitter pain, In which her spirit was, and muste dwell, Rememb'ring her from heav'n into which hell She fallen was, since she forwent* the sight *lost Of Troilus; and sorrowfully she sight.* *sighed