And sey, thow mayst no lenger up endure,
And lye right there, and byde thyn aventure.
The same tyme, and lasten til a-morwe;
And lat see now how wel thou canst it make
For, par-dee, syk is he that is in sorwe.
Go now, farewel! and, Venus here to borwe, 1524
I hope, and thou this purpose holde ferme,
Thy grace she shal fully ther conferme.’
Counseylest me, that sykliche I me feyne!
For I am syk in ernest, doutelees,
So that wel neigh I sterve for the peyne.’
Quod Pandarus, ‘thou shalt the bettre pleyne, 1531
And hast the lasse nede to countrefete;
For him men demen hoot that men seen swete.
Shal wel the deer un-to thy bowe dryve.’
Therwith he took his leve al softely, 1536
And Troilus to paleys wente blyve.
So glad ne was he never in al his lyve;
And to Pandarus reed gan al assente,
And to Deiphebus hous at night he wente. 1540
That Deiphebus un-to his brother made,
Or his accesse, or his syklich manere,
How men gan him with clothes for to lade,
Whan he was leyd, and how men wolde him glade? 1545
But al for nought, he held forth ay the wyse
That ye han herd Pandare er this devyse.
Deiphebus had him prayed over night,
To been a freend and helping to Criseyde.
God woot, that he it grauntede anonright, 1551
To been hir fulle freend with al his might.
But swich a nede was to preye him thenne,
As for to bidde a wood man for to renne.
Of meel-tyd, that the faire quene Eleyne
Shoop hir to been, an houre after the pryme,
With Deiphebus, to whom she nolde feyne;
But as his suster, hoomly, sooth to seyne,
She com to diner in hir playn entente. 1560
But god and Pandare wiste al what this mente.
Antigone, hir sister Tarbe also;
But flee we now prolixitee best is,
For love of god, and lat us faste go 1565
Right to the effect, with-oute tales mo,
Why al this folk assembled in this place;
And lat us of hir saluinges pace.
And fedde hem wel with al that mighte lyke, 1570
But ever-more, ‘allas! was his refreyn,
‘My goode brother Troilus, the syke,
Lyth yet’—and therwith-al he gan to syke;
And after that, he peyned him to glade
Hem as he mighte, and chere good he made. 1575
So feithfully, that pitee was to here,
And every wight gan waxen for accesse
A leche anoon, and seyde, ‘in this manere
Men curen folk; this charme I wol yow lere.’ 1580
But there sat oon, al list hir nought to teche,
That thoughte, best coude I yet been his leche.
As folk don yet, whan som wight hath bigonne
To preyse a man, and up with prys him reyse 1585
A thousand fold yet hyer than the sonne:—
‘He is he can, that fewe lordes conne.’
And Pandarus, of that they wolde afferme,
He not for-gat hir preysing to conferme.
And every word gan for to notifye;
For which with sobre chere hir herte lough;
For who is that ne wolde hir glorifye,
To mowen swich a knight don live or dye?
But al passe I, lest ye to longe dwelle; 1595
For for o fyn is al that ever I telle.
And, as hem oughte, arisen everychoon,
And gonne a whyl of this and that devyse.
But Pandarus brak al this speche anoon,
And seyde to Deiphebus, ‘wole ye goon,
If yourë wille be, as I yow preyde, 1602
To speke here of the nedes of Criseyde?’
Took first the tale, and seyde, ‘go we blyve;’ 1605
And goodly on Criseyde she biheld,
And seyde, ‘Joves lat him never thryve,
That dooth yow harm, and bringe him sone of lyve!
And yeve me sorwe, but he shal it rewe,
If that I may, and alle folk be trewe.’ 1610
To Pandarus, ‘for thou canst best it telle.’—
‘My lordes and
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