Canterbury Tales and Other Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer (always you kirsty moseley .txt) 📖

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.” <14> He beseeches mercy for his friend:

 

“*Woe worth* the faire gemme virtueless! <15> 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 <16>

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,<18> where open is the chain.” <19>

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 <20>

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; <21> *pierced And ay the people cried, “Here comes our joy, And, next his brother, <22> 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?”<23>

 

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.<24>

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. <25>

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;<26>

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 <12>

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? <27>

Or Love the worse, tho’ wretches on it cryen?

No weal* is worth, that may no sorrow drien;** <28> happiness *endure And forthy,* who that hath a head of verre,* therefore **glass <29>

From cast of stones ware him in the werre. <30>

 

“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