That day by day I in my wil amende.
Or thraldom, though he fele in it distresse,
He outher is envyous, or right nyce,
Or is unmighty, for his shrewednesse,
To loven; for swich maner folk, I gesse,
Defamen love, as no-thing of him knowe;
They speken, but they bente never his bowe. 861
Though that a man, for feblesse of his yën,
May nought endure on it to see for brighte?
Or love the wers, though wreeches on it cryen? 865
No wele is worth, that may no sorwe dryen.
And for-thy, who that hath an heed or verre,
Fro cast of stones war him in the werre!
As I have seyd, wol love, un-to my laste,
My dere herte, and al myn owene knight,
In which myn herte growen is so faste,
And his in me, that it shal ever laste.
Al dredde I first to love him to biginne,
Now woot I wel, ther is no peril inne.’ 875
And therwith-al, ‘now, nece,’ quod Criseyde,
‘Who made this song with so good entente?’
Antigone answerde anoon, and seyde,
‘Ma dame, y-wis, the goodlieste mayde 880
Of greet estat in al the toun of Troye;
And let hir lyf in most honour and joye.’
Quod tho Criseyde, and gan ther-with to syke,
And seyde, ‘lord, is there swich blisse among 885
These lovers, as they conne faire endyte?’
‘Ye, wis,’ quod fresh Antigone the whyte,
‘For alle the folk that han or been on lyve
Ne conne wel the blisse of love discryve.
The parfit blisse of love? why, nay, y-wis;
They wenen al be love, if oon be hoot;
Do wey, do wey, they woot no-thing of this!
Men mosten axe at seyntes if it is
Aught fair in hevene; why? for they conne telle; 895
And axen fendes, is it foul in helle.’
But seyde, ‘y-wis, it wol be night as faste.’
But every word which that she of hir herde,
She gan to prenten in hir herte faste; 900
And ay gan love hir lasse for to agaste
Than it dide erst, and sinken in hir herte,
That she wex somwhat able to converte.
The nightes of, al this clepe I the sonne, 905
Gan westren faste, and dounward for to wrye,
As he that hadde his dayes cours y-ronne;
And whyte thinges wexen dimme and donne
For lak of light, and sterres for to appere,
That she and al hir folk in wente y-fere.
And voyded weren they that voyden oughte, 912
She seyde, that to slepe wel hir leste.
Hir wommen sone til hir bed hir broughte.
Whan al was hust, than lay she stille, and thoughte 915
Of al this thing the manere and the wyse.
Reherce it nedeth nought, for ye ben wyse.
Under the chambre-wal ther as she lay,
Ful loude sang ayein the mone shene, 920
Paraunter, in his briddes wyse, a lay
Of love, that made hir herte fresh and gay.
That herkned she so longe in good entente,
Til at the laste the dede sleep hir hente.
How that an egle, fethered whyt as boon,
Under hir brest his longe clawes sette,
And out hir herte he rente, and that a-noon,
And dide his herte in-to hir brest to goon,
Of which she nought agroos ne no-thing smerte, 930
And forth he fleigh, with herte left for herte.
Of Troilus, that is to paleys riden,
Fro the scarmuch, of the whiche I tolde,
And in his chambre sit, and hath abiden
Til two or three of his messages yeden 936
For Pandarus, and soughten him ful faste,
Til they him founde, and broughte him at the laste.
And seide thus, ‘Who hath ben wel y-bete
To-day with swerdes, and with slingestones, 941
But Troilus, that hath caught him an hete?’
And gan to jape, and seyde, ‘lord, so ye swete!
But rys, and lat us soupe and go to reste;’
And he answerde him, ‘do we as thee leste.’ 945
They spedde hem fro the souper un-to bedde;
And every
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