Out never-mo; but doun with Proserpyne,
Whan I am deed, I wol go wone in pyne;
And ther I wol eternally compleyne 475
My wo, and how that twinned be we tweyne.
How that it sholde lasse peyne be
Criseyde to for-goon, for she was myn,
And live in ese and in felicitee. 480
Why gabbestow, that seydest thus to me
That “him is wors that is fro wele y-throwe,
Than he hadde erst non of that wele y-knowe?”
To chaungen so in love, ay to and fro 485
Why hastow not don bisily thy might
To chaungen hir that doth thee al thy wo?
Why niltow lete hir fro thyn herte go?
Why niltow love an-other lady swete,
That may thyn herte setten in quiete?
And canst it not out of thyn herte dryve
I, that livede in lust and in plesaunce
With hir as muche as creature on-lyve,
How sholde I that foryete, and that so blyve? 495
O where hastow ben hid so longe in muwe,
That canst so wel and formely arguwe?
For which, for what that ever may bifalle,
With-outen wordes mo, I wol be deed. 500
O deeth, that endere art of sorwes alle,
Com now, sin I so ofte after thee calle;
For sely is that deeth, soth for to seyne,
That, ofte y-cleped, cometh and endeth peyne.
Er thou me slowe, I wolde have yeven hyre; 506
But now thy cominge is to me so swete,
That in this world I no-thing so desyre.
O deeth, sin with this sorwe I am a- fyre,
Thou outher do me anoon in teres drenche,
Or with thy colde strook myn hete quenche! 511
Ayens hir wil, unpreyed, day and night,
Do me, at my requeste, this servyse,
Delivere now the world, so dostow right,
Of me, that am the wofulleste wight 516
That ever was; for tyme is that I sterve,
Sin in this world of right nought may I serve.’
As licour out of alambyk ful faste; 520
And Pandarus gan holde his tunge stille,
And to the ground his eyen doun he caste.
But nathelees, thus thoughte he at the laste,
‘What, parde, rather than my felawe deye,
Yet shal I som-what more un-to him seye:’
And sin thee list myn arguments to blame,
Why nilt thy-selven helpen doon redresse,
And with thy manhod letten al this grame?
Go ravisshe hir ne canstow not for shame!
And outher lat hir out of toune fare, 531
Or hold hir stille, and leve thy nyce fare.
To take a womman which that loveth thee,
And wolde hir- selven been of thyn assent?
Now is not this a nyce vanitee? 536
Rys up anoon, and lat this weping be,
And kyth thou art a man, for in this houre
I wil be deed, or she shal bleven oure.’
And seyde, ‘parde, leve brother dere,
Al this have I my- self yet thought ful ofte,
And more thing than thou devysest here.
But why this thing is laft, thou shalt wel here; 544
And whan thou me hast yeve an audience,
Ther-after mayst thou telle al thy sentence.
For ravisshing of wommen so by might,
It sholde not be suffred me to erre, 549
As it stant now, ne doon so gret unright.
I sholde han also blame of every wight,
My fadres graunt if that I so withstode,
Sin she is chaunged for the tounes goode.
To aske hir at my fader, of his grace; 555
Than thenke I, this were hir accusement,
Sin wel I woot I may hir not purchace.
For sin my fader, in so heigh a place
As parlement, hath hir eschaunge enseled,
He nil for me his lettre be repeled. 560
With violence, if I do swich a game;
For if I wolde it openly distourbe,
It most been disclaundre to hir name.
And me were lever deed than hir defame,
As nolde god but-if I sholde have 566
Hir honour lever than my lyf to save!
For certeyn is, sin that I am hir knight,
I moste hir honour
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