He seyde, ‘farewel, my dere herte swete,
Ther god us graunte sounde and sone to mete!’ 1526
So sore gan his parting hir destreyne;
And Troilus un-to his palays ferde,
As woo bigon as she was, sooth to seyne;
So hard him wrong of sharp desyr the peyne 1531
For to ben eft there he was in plesaunce,
That it may never out of his remembraunce.
He softe in-to his bed gan for to slinke,
To slepe longe, as he was wont to done,
But al for nought; he may wel ligge and winke,
But sleep ne may ther in his herte sinke;
Thenkinge how she, for whom desyr him brende,
A thousand-fold was worth more than he wende. 1540
Hir wordes alle, and every contenaunce,
And fermely impressen in his minde
The leste poynt that to him was plesaunce;
And verrayliche, of thilke remembraunce,
Desyr al newe him brende, and lust to brede 1546
Gan more than erst, and yet took he non hede.
Of Troilus gan in hir herte shette 1549
His worthinesse, his lust, his dedes wyse,
His gentilesse, and how she with him mette,
Thonkinge love he so wel hir bisette;
Desyring eft to have hir herte dere
In swich a plyt, she dorste make him chere.
Un-to his nece, and gan hir fayre grete,
Seyde, ‘al this night so reyned it, allas!
That al my drede is that ye, nece swete,
Han litel layser had to slepe and mete;
Al night,’ quod he, ‘hath reyn so do me wake, 1560
That som of us, I trowe, hir hedes ake.’
This mery morwe, nece, how can ye fare?’
Criseyde answerde, ‘never the bet for yow,
Fox that ye been, god yeve your herte care!
God helpe me so, ye caused al this fare,
Trow I,’ quod she, ‘for alle your wordes whyte;
O! who-so seeth yow knoweth yow ful lyte!’
With the shete, and wex for shame al reed; 1570
And Pandarus gan under for to prye,
And seyde, ‘nece, if that I shal ben deed,
Have here a swerd, and smyteth of myn heed.’
With that his arm al sodeynly he thriste
Under hir nekke, and at the laste hir kiste. 1575
What! God foryaf his deeth, and she al-so
Foryaf, and with hir uncle gan to pleye,
For other cause was ther noon than so.
But of this thing right to the effect to go,
Whan tyme was, hom til hir hous she wente, 1581
And Pandarus hath fully his entente.
That restelees ful longe a-bedde lay,
And prevely sente after Pandarus, 1585
To him to come in al the haste he may.
He com anoon, nought ones seyde he ‘nay,’
And Troilus ful sobrely he grette,
And doun upon his beddes syde him sette. 1589
Of frendes love that herte may devyse,
To Pandarus on kneës fil adoun,
And er that he wolde of the place aryse,
He gan him thonken in his beste wyse;
A hondred sythe he gan the tyme blesse,
That he was born to bringe him fro distresse. 1596
That ever was, the sothe for to telle,
Thou hast in hevene y-brought my soule at reste
Fro Flegiton, the fery flood of helle; 1600
That, though I mighte a thousand tymes selle,
Upon a day, my lyf in thy servyse,
It mighte nought a mote in that suffyse.
Saw never yet, my lyf, that dar I leye,
So inly fair and goodly as is she, 1606
Whos I am al, and shal, til that I deye;
And, that I thus am hires, dar I seye,
That thanked be the heighe worthinesse
Of love, and eek thy kinde bisinesse. 1610
Of which to thee obliged be for ay
My lyf, and why? for thorugh thyn help I live;
For elles deed hadde I be many a day.’
And with that word doun in his bed he lay, 1615
And
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