The Canterbury Tales [348]
the white Bull, so it betid* *happened As I shall sing, on Maye's day the thrid, <11>
That Pandarus, for all his wise speech, Felt eke his part of Love's shottes keen, That, could he ne'er so well of Love preach, It made yet his hue all day full green;* *pale So *shope it,* that him fell that day a teen* *it happened* *access In love, for which full woe to bed he went, And made ere it were day full many a went.* *turning <12>
The swallow Progne, <13> with a sorrowful lay, When morrow came, gan make her waimenting,* *lamenting Why she foshapen* was; and ever lay *transformed Pandare a-bed, half in a slumbering, Till she so nigh him made her chittering, How Tereus gan forth her sister take, That with the noise of her he did awake,
And gan to call, and dress* him to arise, *prepare Rememb'ring him his errand was to do'n From Troilus, and eke his great emprise; And cast, and knew in *good plight* was the Moon *favourable aspect* To do voyage, and took his way full soon Unto his niece's palace there beside Now Janus, god of entry, thou him guide!
Pandarus finds his niece, with two other ladies, in a paved parlour, listening to a maiden who reads aloud the story of the Siege of Thebes. Greeting the company, he is welcomed by Cressida, who tells him that for three nights she has dreamed of him. After some lively talk about the book they had been reading, Pandarus asks his niece to do away her hood, to show her face bare, to lay aside the book, to rise up and dance, "and let us do to May some observance." Cressida cries out, "God forbid!" and asks if he is mad -- if that is a widow's life, whom it better becomes to sit in a cave and read of holy saints' lives. Pandarus intimates that he could tell her something which could make her merry; but he refuses to gratify her curiosity; and, by way of the siege and of Hector, "that was the towne's wall, and Greekes' yerd" or scourging-rod, the conversation is brought round to Troilus, whom Pandarus highly extols as "the wise worthy Hector the second." She has, she says, already heard Troilus praised for his bravery "of them that her were liefest praised be" [by whom it would be most welcome to her to be praised].
"Ye say right sooth, y-wis," quoth Pandarus; For yesterday, who so had with him been, Might have wonder'd upon Troilus; For never yet so thick a swarm of been* *bees Ne flew, as did of Greekes from him flee'n; And through the field, in ev'ry wighte's ear, There was no cry but 'Troilus is here.'
"Now here, now there, he hunted them so fast, There was but Greekes' blood; and Troilus Now him he hurt, now him adown he cast; Ay where he went it was arrayed thus: He was their death, and shield of life for us, That as that day there durst him none withstand, While that he held his bloody sword in hand."
Pandarus makes now a show of taking leave, but Cressida detains him, to speak of her affairs; then, the business talked over, he would again go, but first again asks his niece to arise and dance, and cast her widow's garments to mischance, because of the glad fortune that has befallen her. More curious than ever, she seeks to find out Pandarus' secret; but he still parries her curiosity, skilfully hinting all the time at her good fortune, and the wisdom of seizing on it when offered. In the end he tells her that the noble Troilus so loves her, that with her it lies to make him live or die -- but if Troilus dies, Pandarus shall die with him; and then she will have "fished fair." <14> He beseeches mercy for his friend:
"*Woe worth* the faire gemme virtueless! <15> *evil befall!* Woe worth the herb also that *doth no boot!* *has no remedial power* Woe worth the beauty that is rutheless!* *merciless Woe worth that wight that treads each under foot! And ye that be of beauty *crop and root* *perfection <16> If therewithal in you there be no ruth,*
That Pandarus, for all his wise speech, Felt eke his part of Love's shottes keen, That, could he ne'er so well of Love preach, It made yet his hue all day full green;* *pale So *shope it,* that him fell that day a teen* *it happened* *access In love, for which full woe to bed he went, And made ere it were day full many a went.* *turning <12>
The swallow Progne, <13> with a sorrowful lay, When morrow came, gan make her waimenting,* *lamenting Why she foshapen* was; and ever lay *transformed Pandare a-bed, half in a slumbering, Till she so nigh him made her chittering, How Tereus gan forth her sister take, That with the noise of her he did awake,
And gan to call, and dress* him to arise, *prepare Rememb'ring him his errand was to do'n From Troilus, and eke his great emprise; And cast, and knew in *good plight* was the Moon *favourable aspect* To do voyage, and took his way full soon Unto his niece's palace there beside Now Janus, god of entry, thou him guide!
Pandarus finds his niece, with two other ladies, in a paved parlour, listening to a maiden who reads aloud the story of the Siege of Thebes. Greeting the company, he is welcomed by Cressida, who tells him that for three nights she has dreamed of him. After some lively talk about the book they had been reading, Pandarus asks his niece to do away her hood, to show her face bare, to lay aside the book, to rise up and dance, "and let us do to May some observance." Cressida cries out, "God forbid!" and asks if he is mad -- if that is a widow's life, whom it better becomes to sit in a cave and read of holy saints' lives. Pandarus intimates that he could tell her something which could make her merry; but he refuses to gratify her curiosity; and, by way of the siege and of Hector, "that was the towne's wall, and Greekes' yerd" or scourging-rod, the conversation is brought round to Troilus, whom Pandarus highly extols as "the wise worthy Hector the second." She has, she says, already heard Troilus praised for his bravery "of them that her were liefest praised be" [by whom it would be most welcome to her to be praised].
"Ye say right sooth, y-wis," quoth Pandarus; For yesterday, who so had with him been, Might have wonder'd upon Troilus; For never yet so thick a swarm of been* *bees Ne flew, as did of Greekes from him flee'n; And through the field, in ev'ry wighte's ear, There was no cry but 'Troilus is here.'
"Now here, now there, he hunted them so fast, There was but Greekes' blood; and Troilus Now him he hurt, now him adown he cast; Ay where he went it was arrayed thus: He was their death, and shield of life for us, That as that day there durst him none withstand, While that he held his bloody sword in hand."
Pandarus makes now a show of taking leave, but Cressida detains him, to speak of her affairs; then, the business talked over, he would again go, but first again asks his niece to arise and dance, and cast her widow's garments to mischance, because of the glad fortune that has befallen her. More curious than ever, she seeks to find out Pandarus' secret; but he still parries her curiosity, skilfully hinting all the time at her good fortune, and the wisdom of seizing on it when offered. In the end he tells her that the noble Troilus so loves her, that with her it lies to make him live or die -- but if Troilus dies, Pandarus shall die with him; and then she will have "fished fair." <14> He beseeches mercy for his friend:
"*Woe worth* the faire gemme virtueless! <15> *evil befall!* Woe worth the herb also that *doth no boot!* *has no remedial power* Woe worth the beauty that is rutheless!* *merciless Woe worth that wight that treads each under foot! And ye that be of beauty *crop and root* *perfection <16> If therewithal in you there be no ruth,*