The Canterbury Tales [344]
comfort And for me pray also, that God so dear May give me might to show, in some mannere, Such pain or woe as Love's folk endure, In Troilus' *unseely adventure* *unhappy fortune*
And pray for them that eke be despair'd In love, that never will recover'd be; And eke for them that falsely be appair'd* *slandered Through wicked tongues, be it he or she: Or thus bid* God, for his benignity, *pray To grant them soon out of this world to pace,* *pass, go That be despaired of their love's grace.
And bid also for them that be at ease In love, that God them grant perseverance, And send them might their loves so to please, That it to them be *worship and pleasance;* *honour and pleasure* For so hope I my soul best to advance, To pray for them that Love's servants be, And write their woe, and live in charity;
And for to have of them compassion, As though I were their owen brother dear. Now listen all with good entention,* *attention For I will now go straight to my mattere, In which ye shall the double sorrow hear Of Troilus, in loving of Cresside, And how that she forsook him ere she died.
In Troy, during the siege, dwelt "a lord of great authority, a great divine," named Calchas; who, through the oracle of Apollo, knew that Troy should be destroyed. He stole away secretly to the Greek camp, where he was gladly received, and honoured for his skill in divining, of which the besiegers hoped to make use. Within the city there was great anger at the treason of Calchas; and the people declared that he and all his kin were worthy to be burnt. His daughter, whom he had left in the city, a widow and alone, was in great fear for her life.
Cressida was this lady's name aright; *As to my doom,* in alle Troy city *in my judgment* So fair was none, for over ev'ry wight So angelic was her native beauty, That like a thing immortal seemed she, As sooth a perfect heav'nly creature, That down seem'd sent in scorning of Nature.
In her distress, "well nigh out of her wit for pure fear," she appealed for protection to Hector; who, "piteous of nature," and touched by her sorrow and her beauty, assured her of safety, so long as she pleased to dwell in Troy. The siege went on; but they of Troy did not neglect the honour and worship of their deities; most of all of "the relic hight Palladion, <4> that was their trust aboven ev'ry one." In April, "when clothed is the mead with newe green, of jolly Ver [Spring] the prime," the Trojans went to hold the festival of Palladion -- crowding to the temple, "in all their beste guise," lusty knights, fresh ladies, and maidens bright.
Among the which was this Cresseida, In widow's habit black; but natheless, Right as our firste letter is now A, In beauty first so stood she makeless;* *matchless Her goodly looking gladded all the press;* *crowd Was never seen thing to be praised derre,* *dearer, more worthy Nor under blacke cloud so bright a sterre,* *star
As she was, as they saiden, ev'ry one That her behelden in her blacke weed;* *garment And yet she stood, full low and still, alone, Behind all other folk, *in little brede,* *inconspicuously* And nigh the door, ay *under shame's drede;* *for dread of shame* Simple of bearing, debonair* of cheer, *gracious With a full sure* looking and mannere. *assured
Dan Troilus, as he was wont to guide His younge knightes, led them up and down In that large temple upon ev'ry side, Beholding ay the ladies of the town; Now here, now there, for no devotioun Had he to none, to *reave him* his rest, *deprive him of* But gan to *praise and lacke whom him lest;* *praise and disparage whom he pleased* And in his walk full fast he gan to wait* *watch, observe If
And pray for them that eke be despair'd In love, that never will recover'd be; And eke for them that falsely be appair'd* *slandered Through wicked tongues, be it he or she: Or thus bid* God, for his benignity, *pray To grant them soon out of this world to pace,* *pass, go That be despaired of their love's grace.
And bid also for them that be at ease In love, that God them grant perseverance, And send them might their loves so to please, That it to them be *worship and pleasance;* *honour and pleasure* For so hope I my soul best to advance, To pray for them that Love's servants be, And write their woe, and live in charity;
And for to have of them compassion, As though I were their owen brother dear. Now listen all with good entention,* *attention For I will now go straight to my mattere, In which ye shall the double sorrow hear Of Troilus, in loving of Cresside, And how that she forsook him ere she died.
In Troy, during the siege, dwelt "a lord of great authority, a great divine," named Calchas; who, through the oracle of Apollo, knew that Troy should be destroyed. He stole away secretly to the Greek camp, where he was gladly received, and honoured for his skill in divining, of which the besiegers hoped to make use. Within the city there was great anger at the treason of Calchas; and the people declared that he and all his kin were worthy to be burnt. His daughter, whom he had left in the city, a widow and alone, was in great fear for her life.
Cressida was this lady's name aright; *As to my doom,* in alle Troy city *in my judgment* So fair was none, for over ev'ry wight So angelic was her native beauty, That like a thing immortal seemed she, As sooth a perfect heav'nly creature, That down seem'd sent in scorning of Nature.
In her distress, "well nigh out of her wit for pure fear," she appealed for protection to Hector; who, "piteous of nature," and touched by her sorrow and her beauty, assured her of safety, so long as she pleased to dwell in Troy. The siege went on; but they of Troy did not neglect the honour and worship of their deities; most of all of "the relic hight Palladion, <4> that was their trust aboven ev'ry one." In April, "when clothed is the mead with newe green, of jolly Ver [Spring] the prime," the Trojans went to hold the festival of Palladion -- crowding to the temple, "in all their beste guise," lusty knights, fresh ladies, and maidens bright.
Among the which was this Cresseida, In widow's habit black; but natheless, Right as our firste letter is now A, In beauty first so stood she makeless;* *matchless Her goodly looking gladded all the press;* *crowd Was never seen thing to be praised derre,* *dearer, more worthy Nor under blacke cloud so bright a sterre,* *star
As she was, as they saiden, ev'ry one That her behelden in her blacke weed;* *garment And yet she stood, full low and still, alone, Behind all other folk, *in little brede,* *inconspicuously* And nigh the door, ay *under shame's drede;* *for dread of shame* Simple of bearing, debonair* of cheer, *gracious With a full sure* looking and mannere. *assured
Dan Troilus, as he was wont to guide His younge knightes, led them up and down In that large temple upon ev'ry side, Beholding ay the ladies of the town; Now here, now there, for no devotioun Had he to none, to *reave him* his rest, *deprive him of* But gan to *praise and lacke whom him lest;* *praise and disparage whom he pleased* And in his walk full fast he gan to wait* *watch, observe If