She made him were a pencel of hir sleve.
Whan through the body hurt was Diomede 1045
Of Troilus, tho weep she many a tere,
Whan that she saugh his wyde woundes blede;
And that she took to kepen him good hede,
And for to hele him of his sorwes smerte.
Men seyn, I not, that she yaf him hir herte. 1050
Ther made never womman more wo
Than she, whan that she falsed Troilus.
She seyde, ‘allas! for now is clene a-go
My name of trouthe in love, for ever-mo!
For I have falsed oon, the gentileste
That ever was, and oon the worthieste!
Shal neither bëên y-writen nor y-songe
No good word, for thise bokes wol me shende, 1060
O, rolled shal I been on many a tonge!
Through-out the world my belle shal be ronge;
And wommen most wol hate me of alle.
Allas, that swich a cas me sholde falle!
I have hem doon dishonour, weylawey!
Al be I not the firste that dide amis,
What helpeth that to do my blame awey?
But sin I see there is no bettre way,
And that to late is now for me to rewe,
To Diomede algate I wol be trewe. 1071
And sin that thus departen ye and I,
Yet preye I god, so yeve yow right good day
As for the gentileste, trewely, 1075
That ever I say, to serven feithfully,
And best can ay his lady honour kepe:’—
And with that word she brast anon to wepe.
And freendes love, that shal ye han of me, 1080
And my good word, al mighte I liven ever.
And, trewely, I wolde sory be
For to seen yow in adversitee.
And giltelees, I woot wel, I yow leve;
But al shal passe; and thus take I my leve.’ 1085
That she for-sook him for this Diomede,
Ther is non auctor telleth it, I wene.
Take every man now to his bokes hede;
He shal no terme finden, out of drede.
For though that he bigan to wowe hir sone, 1091
Er he hir wan, yet was ther more to done.
Ferther than the story wol devyse.
Hir name, allas! is publisshed so wyde,
That for hir gilt it oughte y-now suffyse
And if I mighte excuse hir any wyse,
For she so sory was for hir untrouthe,
Y-wis, I wolde excuse hir yet for routhe.
Thus dryveth forth, as wel as he hath might. 1101
But often was his herte hoot and cold,
And namely, that ilke nynthe night,
Which on the morwe she hadde him byhight
To come ayein: god wot, ful litel reste
Hadde he that night; no-thing to slepe him leste. 1106
Gan, in his course ay upward as he wente,
To warmen of †th’ est see the wa wes wete;
And Nisus doughter song with fresh entente, 1110
Whan Troilus his Pandare after sente;
And on the walles of the toun they pleyde,
To loke if they can seen ought of Criseyde.
Who that ther come; and every maner wight, 1115
That cam fro fer, they seyden it was she;
Til that they coude knowen him a-right,
Now was his herte dul, now was it light;
And thus by-japed stonden for to stare
Aboute nought, this Troilus and Pandare.
‘For ought I wot, bi-for noon, sikerly,
In-to this toun ne comth nought here Criseyde.
She hath y-now to done, hardily, 1124
To winnen from hir fader, so trowe I;
Hir olde fader wol yet make hir dyne
Er that she go; god yeve his herte pyne!’
And for-thy lat us dyne, I thee biseche;
And after noon than mayst thou come ayeyn.’ 1130
And hoom they go, with-oute more speche;
And comen ayein, but longe may they seche
Er that they finde that they after cape;
Fortune hem bothe thenketh for to jape.
Is taried with hir olde fader so,
That er she come, it wol
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