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

by night, Toward my death, with wind I steer and sail; For which, the tenthe night, if that I fail miss; be left without The guiding of thy beames bright an hour, My ship and me Charybdis will devour.”

 

By night he prayed the moon to run fast about her sphere; by day he reproached the tardy sun — dreading that Phaethon had come to life again, and was driving the chariot of Apollo out of its straight course. Meanwhile Cressida, among the Greeks, was bewailing the refusal of her father to let her return, the certainty that her lover would think her false, and the hopelessness of any attempt to steal away by night. Her bright face waxed pale, her limbs lean, as she stood all day looking toward Troy; thinking on her love and all her past delights, regretting that she had not followed the counsel of Troilus to steal away with him, and finally vowing that she would at all hazards return to the city.

But she was fated, ere two months, to be full far from any such intention; for Diomede now brought all his skill into play, to entice Cressida into his net. On the tenth day, Diomede, “as fresh as branch in May,” came to the tent of Cressida, feigning business with Calchas.

 

Cresside, at shorte wordes for to tell, Welcomed him, and down by her him set, And he was *eath enough to make dwell; easily persuaded to stay*

And after this, withoute longe let, delay The spices and the wine men forth him fet, fetched And forth they speak of this and that y-fere, together As friendes do, of which some shall ye hear.

 

He gan first fallen of the war in speech Between them and the folk of Troye town, And of the siege he gan eke her beseech To tell him what was her opinioun;

From that demand he so descended down

To aske her, if that her strange thought The Greekes’ guise,* and workes that they wrought. fashion And why her father tarried so long *delayed To wedde her unto some worthy wight.

Cressida, that was in her paines strong For love of Troilus, her owen knight,

So farforth as she cunning* had or might, *ability Answer’d him then; but, as for his intent, purpose It seemed not she wiste* what he meant. knew But natheless this ilke Diomede same Gan in himself assure,* and thus he said; grow confident

“If I aright have *taken on you heed, observed you*

Me thinketh thus, O lady mine Cresside, That since I first hand on your bridle laid, When ye out came of Troye by the morrow, Ne might I never see you but in sorrow.

 

“I cannot say what may the cause be,

But if for love of some Trojan it were; *The which right sore would a-thinke me which it would much That ye for any wight that dwelleth there pain me to think*

Should [ever] spill* a quarter of a tear, *shed Or piteously yourselfe so beguile; deceive For dreadeless* it is not worth the while. *undoubtedly “The folk of Troy, as who saith, all and some In prison be, as ye yourselfe see;

From thence shall not one alive come

For all the gold betwixte sun and sea; Truste this well, and understande me;

There shall not one to mercy go alive, All* were he lord of worldes twice five. *although … … … …

 

“What will ye more, lovesome lady dear?

Let Troy and Trojan from your hearte pace; Drive out that bitter hope, and make good cheer, And call again the beauty of your face, That ye with salte teares so deface;

For Troy is brought into such jeopardy, That it to save is now no remedy.

 

“And thinke well, ye shall in Greekes find A love more perfect, ere that it be night, Than any Trojan is, and more kind,

And better you to serve will do his might; And, if ye vouchesafe, my lady bright, I will be he, to serve you, myselve, —

Yea, lever* than be a lord of Greekes twelve!” *rather And with that word he gan to waxe red, And in his speech a little while he quoke, quaked; trembled And cast aside a little with his head, And stint a while; and afterward he woke, And soberly on her he threw his look,

And said, “I am, albeit to you no joy, As gentle* man as any wight in Troy. *high-born “But, hearte mine! since that I am your man, leigeman, subject And [you] be the first of whom I seeke grace, (in love) To serve you as heartily as I can,

And ever shall, while I to live have space, So, ere that I depart out of this place, Ye will me grante that I may, to-morrow, At better leisure, telle you my sorrow.”

 

Why should I tell his wordes that he said?

He spake enough for one day at the mest; most It proveth well he spake so, that Cresseide Granted upon the morrow, at his request, Farther to speake with him, at the least, So that he would not speak of such mattere; And thus she said to him, as ye may hear: As she that had her heart on Troilus

So faste set, that none might it arace; uproot <83>

And strangely* she spake, and saide thus; *distantly, unfriendlily “O Diomede! I love that ilke place

Where I was born; and Jovis, for his grace, Deliver it soon of all that doth it care! afflict God, for thy might, so *leave it* well to fare!” grant it

 

She knows that the Greeks would fain wreak their wrath on Troy, if they might; but that shall never befall: she knows that there are Greeks of high condition — though as worthy men would be found in Troy: and she knows that Diomede could serve his lady well.

 

“But, as to speak of love, y-wis,” she said, “I had a lord, to whom I wedded was, <84>

He whose mine heart was all, until he died; And other love, as help me now Pallas, There in my heart nor is, nor ever was; And that ye be of noble and high kindred, I have well heard it tellen, out of dread. doubt “And that doth* me to have so great a wonder *causeth That ye will scornen any woman so;

Eke, God wot, love and I be far asunder; I am disposed bet, so may I go, fare or prosper Unto my death to plain and make woe;

What I shall after do I cannot say,

But truely as yet *me list not play. I am not disposed *for sport “Mine heart is now in tribulatioun;

And ye in armes busy be by day;

Hereafter, when ye wonnen have the town, Parauntre* then, so as it happen may, peradventure That when I see that I never ere sey, saw before*

Then will I work that I never ere wrought; This word to you enough sufficen ought.

 

“To-morrow eke will I speak with you fain, willingly So that ye touche naught of this mattere; And when you list, ye may come here again, And ere ye go, thus much I say you here: As help me Pallas, with her haires clear, If that I should of any Greek have ruth, It shoulde be yourselfe, by my truth!

 

“I say not therefore that I will you love; *Nor say not nay;* but, in conclusioun, nor say I that I meane well, by God that sits above!” I will not

And therewithal she cast her eyen down, And gan to sigh, and said; “O Troye town!

Yet bid* I God, in quiet and in rest pray I may you see, or do my hearte brest!” cause my heart to break*

 

But in effect, and shortly for to say, This Diomede all freshly new again

Gan pressen on, and fast her mercy pray; And after this, the soothe for to sayn, Her glove he took, of which he was full fain, And finally, when it was waxen eve,

And all was well, he rose and took his leave.

 

Cressida retired to rest:

 

Returning in her soul ay up and down

The wordes of this sudden Diomede,<85>

His great estate,* the peril of the town, *rank And that she was alone, and hadde need Of friendes’ help; and thus began to dread The causes why, the soothe for to tell, That she took fully the purpose for to dwell. remain (with the Greeks) The morrow came, and, ghostly* for to speak, *plainly This Diomede is come unto Cresseide;

And shortly, lest that ye my tale break, So well he for himselfe spake and said, That all her sighes sore adown he laid; And finally, the soothe for to sayn,

He refte* her the great** of all her pain. took away *the greater part of And after this, the story telleth us

That she him gave the faire baye steed The which she ones won of Troilus;

And eke a brooch (and that was little need) That Troilus’ was, she gave this Diomede; And eke, the bet from sorrow him to relieve, She made him wear a pensel* of her sleeve. *pendant <86>

 

I find eke in the story elleswhere,

When through the body hurt was Diomede By Troilus, she wept many a tear,

When that she saw his wide woundes bleed, And that she took to keepe* him good heed, tend, care for And, for to heal him of his sorrow’s smart, Men say, I n’ot, that she gave him her heart. *know not And yet, when pity had thus completed the triumph of inconstancy, she made bitter moan over her falseness to one of the noblest and worthiest men that ever was; but it was now too late to repent, and at all events she resolved that she would be true to Diomede — all the while weeping for pity of the absent Troilus, to whom she wished every happiness. The tenth day, meantime, had barely dawned, when Troilus, accompanied by Pandarus, took his stand on the walls, to watch for the return of Cressida. Till noon they stood, thinking that every corner from afar was she; then Troilus said that doubtless her old father bore the parting ill, and had detained her till after dinner; so they went to dine, and returned to their vain observation on the walls. Troilus invented all kinds of explanations for his mistress’s delay; now, her father would not let her go till eve; now, she would ride quietly into the town after nightfall, not to be observed; now, he must have mistaken the day. For five or six days he watched, still in vain, and with decreasing hope.

Gradually his strength decayed, until he could walk only with a staff; answering the wondering inquiries of his friends, by saying that he had a grievous malady about his heart. One day he dreamed that in a forest he saw Cressida in the embrace of a boar; and he had no longer doubt of her falsehood. Pandarus, however, explained away the dream to mean merely that Cressida was detained by her father, who might be at the point of death; and he counselled the disconsolate lover to write a letter, by which he might perhaps get at the truth. Troilus complied, entreating from his mistress, at the least, a “letter of hope;” and the lady answered, that she could not come now, but would so soon as she might; at the same time “making him great feast,” and swearing that she loved him best — “of which he found