Troilus and Crisyde | Page 4

that she was so fair a creature; 115?Of his goodnesse he gladed hir anoon,?And seyde, `Lat your fadres treson goon?Forth with mischaunce, and ye your-self, in Ioye,?Dwelleth with us, whyl you good list, in Troye.
`And al thonour that men may doon yow have, 120?As ferforth as your fader dwelled here,?Ye shul han, and your body shal men save,?As fer as I may ought enquere or here.'?And she him thonked with ful humble chere,?And ofter wolde, and it hadde ben his wille, 125?And took hir leve, and hoom, and held hir stille.
And in hir hous she abood with swich meynee?As to hir honour nede was to holde;?And whyl she was dwellinge in that citee,?Kepte hir estat, and bothe of yonge and olde 130?Ful wel beloved, and wel men of hir tolde.?But whether that she children hadde or noon,?I rede it naught; therfore I late it goon.
The thinges fellen, as they doon of werre,?Bitwixen hem of Troye and Grekes ofte; 135?For som day boughten they of Troye it derre,?And eft the Grekes founden no thing softe?The folk of Troye; and thus fortune on-lofte,?And under eft, gan hem to wheelen bothe?After hir cours, ay whyl they were wrothe. 140
But how this toun com to destruccioun?Ne falleth nought to purpos me to telle;?For it were a long digressioun?Fro my matere, and yow to longe dwelle.?But the Troyane gestes, as they felle, 145?In Omer, or in Dares, or in Dyte,?Who-so that can, may rede hem as they wryte.
But though that Grekes hem of Troye shetten,?And hir citee bisegede al a-boute,?Hir olde usage wolde they not letten, 150?As for to honoure hir goddes ful devoute;?But aldermost in honour, out of doute,?They hadde a relik hight Palladion,?That was hir trist a-boven everichon.
And so bifel, whan comen was the tyme 155?Of Aperil, whan clothed is the mede?With newe grene, of lusty Ver the pryme,?And swote smellen floures whyte and rede,?In sondry wyses shewed, as I rede,?The folk of Troye hir observaunces olde, 160?Palladiones feste for to holde.
And to the temple, in al hir beste wyse,?In general, ther wente many a wight,?To herknen of Palladion servyse;?And namely, so many a lusty knight, 165?So many a lady fresh and mayden bright,?Ful wel arayed, bothe moste and leste,?Ye, bothe for the seson and the feste.
Among thise othere folk was Criseyda,?In widewes habite blak; but nathelees, 170?Right as our firste lettre is now an A,?In beautee first so stood she, makelees;?Hir godly looking gladede al the prees.?Nas never seyn thing to ben preysed derre,?Nor under cloude blak so bright a sterre 175
As was Criseyde, as folk seyde everichoon?That hir behelden in hir blake wede;?And yet she stood ful lowe and stille alloon,?Bihinden othere folk, in litel brede,?And neigh the dore, ay under shames drede, 180?Simple of a-tyr, and debonaire of chere,?With ful assured loking and manere.
This Troilus, as he was wont to gyde?His yonge knightes, ladde hem up and doun?In thilke large temple on every syde, 185?Biholding ay the ladyes of the toun,?Now here, now there, for no devocioun?Hadde he to noon, to reven him his reste,?But gan to preyse and lakken whom him leste.
And in his walk ful fast he gan to wayten 190?If knight or squyer of his companye?Gan for to syke, or lete his eyen bayten?On any woman that he coude aspye;?He wolde smyle, and holden it folye,?And seye him thus, `god wot, she slepeth softe 195?For love of thee, whan thou tornest ful ofte!
`I have herd told, pardieux, of your livinge,?Ye lovers, and your lewede observaunces,?And which a labour folk han in winninge?Of love, and, in the keping, which doutaunces; 200?And whan your preye is lost, wo and penaunces;?O verrey foles! nyce and blinde be ye;?Ther nis not oon can war by other be.'
And with that word he gan cast up the browe,?Ascaunces, `Lo! is this nought wysly spoken?' 205?At which the god of love gan loken rowe?Right for despyt, and shoop for to ben wroken;?He kidde anoon his bowe nas not broken;?For sodeynly he hit him at the fulle;?And yet as proud a pekok can he pulle. 210
O blinde world, O blinde entencioun!?How ofte falleth al theffect contraire?Of surquidrye and foul presumpcioun;?For caught is proud, and caught is debonaire.?This Troilus is clomben on the staire, 215?And litel weneth that he moot descenden.?But al-day falleth thing that foles ne wenden.
As proude Bayard ginneth for to skippe?Out of the wey, so priketh him his corn,?Til he a lash have of the longe whippe, 220?Than thenketh he, `Though I praunce al biforn?First in the trays, ful fat and newe shorn,?Yet am I but an hors, and horses lawe?I moot endure, and with my feres drawe.'
So ferde it by this fers and proude knight; 225?Though he a worthy kinges sone were,?And wende nothing hadde had swiche might?Ayens his wil that sholde his herte stere,?Yet with a look his herte wex a-fere,?That