The Canterbury Tales [362]
for Antenor Cresside; For which to change soon began his face, As he that with the wordes well nigh died; But natheless he no word to it seid;* *said Lest men should his affection espy, With manne's heart he gan his sorrows drie;* *endure
And, full of anguish and of grisly dread, Abode what other lords would to it say, And if they woulde grant, -- as God forbid! -- Th'exchange of her, then thought he thinges tway:* *two First, for to save her honour; and what way He mighte best th'exchange of her withstand; This cast he then how all this mighte stand.
Love made him alle *prest to do her bide,* *eager to make her stay* And rather die than that she shoulde go; But Reason said him, on the other side, "Without th'assent of her, do thou not so, Lest for thy worke she would be thy foe; And say, that through thy meddling is y-blow* *divulged, blown abroad Your bothe love, where it was *erst unknow."* *previously unknown*
For which he gan deliberate for the best, That though the lordes woulde that she went, He woulde suffer them grant what *them lest,* *they pleased* And tell his lady first what that they meant; And, when that she had told him her intent, Thereafter would he worken all so blive,* *speedily Though all the world against it woulde strive.
Hector, which that full well the Greekes heard, For Antenor how they would have Cresseide, Gan it withstand, and soberly answer'd; "Sirs, she is no prisoner," he said; "I know not on you who this charge laid; But, for my part, ye may well soon him tell, We use* here no women for to sell." *are accustomed
The noise of the people then upstart at once, As breme* as blaze of straw y-set on fire *violent, furious For Infortune* woulde for the nonce *Misfortune They shoulde their confusion desire "Hector," quoth they, "what ghost* may you inspire *spirit This woman thus to shield, and *do us* lose *cause us to* Dan Antenor? -- a wrong way now ye choose, --
"That is so wise, and eke so bold baroun; And we have need of folk, as men may see He eke is one the greatest of this town; O Hector! lette such fantasies be! O King Priam!" quoth they, "lo! thus say we, That all our will is to forego Cresseide;" And to deliver Antenor they pray'd.
Though Hector often prayed them "nay," it was resolved that Cressida should be given up for Antenor; then the parliament dispersed. Troilus hastened home to his chamber, shut himself up alone, and threw himself on his bed.
And as in winter leaves be bereft, Each after other, till the tree be bare, So that there is but bark and branch y-left, Lay Troilus, bereft of each welfare, Y-bounden in the blacke bark of care, Disposed *wood out of his wit to braid,* *to go out of his senses* *So sore him sat* the changing of Cresseide. *so ill did he bear*
He rose him up, and ev'ry door he shet,* *shut And window eke; and then this sorrowful man Upon his bedde's side adown him set, Full like a dead image, pale and wan, And in his breast the heaped woe began Out burst, and he to worken in this wise, In his woodness,* as I shall you devise.** *madness **relate
Right as the wilde bull begins to spring, Now here, now there, y-darted* to the heart, *pierced with a dart And of his death roareth in complaining; Right so gan he about the chamber start, Smiting his breast aye with his fistes smart;* *painfully, cruelly His head to the wall, his body to the ground, Full oft he swapt,* himselfe to confound. *struck, dashed
His eyen then, for pity of his heart, Out streameden as swifte welles* tway; *fountains The highe sobbes of his sorrow's smart His speech him reft; unnethes* might he say, *scarcely "O Death, alas! *why n'ilt thou do me dey?* *why will you not Accursed be that day which that Nature
And, full of anguish and of grisly dread, Abode what other lords would to it say, And if they woulde grant, -- as God forbid! -- Th'exchange of her, then thought he thinges tway:* *two First, for to save her honour; and what way He mighte best th'exchange of her withstand; This cast he then how all this mighte stand.
Love made him alle *prest to do her bide,* *eager to make her stay* And rather die than that she shoulde go; But Reason said him, on the other side, "Without th'assent of her, do thou not so, Lest for thy worke she would be thy foe; And say, that through thy meddling is y-blow* *divulged, blown abroad Your bothe love, where it was *erst unknow."* *previously unknown*
For which he gan deliberate for the best, That though the lordes woulde that she went, He woulde suffer them grant what *them lest,* *they pleased* And tell his lady first what that they meant; And, when that she had told him her intent, Thereafter would he worken all so blive,* *speedily Though all the world against it woulde strive.
Hector, which that full well the Greekes heard, For Antenor how they would have Cresseide, Gan it withstand, and soberly answer'd; "Sirs, she is no prisoner," he said; "I know not on you who this charge laid; But, for my part, ye may well soon him tell, We use* here no women for to sell." *are accustomed
The noise of the people then upstart at once, As breme* as blaze of straw y-set on fire *violent, furious For Infortune* woulde for the nonce *Misfortune They shoulde their confusion desire "Hector," quoth they, "what ghost* may you inspire *spirit This woman thus to shield, and *do us* lose *cause us to* Dan Antenor? -- a wrong way now ye choose, --
"That is so wise, and eke so bold baroun; And we have need of folk, as men may see He eke is one the greatest of this town; O Hector! lette such fantasies be! O King Priam!" quoth they, "lo! thus say we, That all our will is to forego Cresseide;" And to deliver Antenor they pray'd.
Though Hector often prayed them "nay," it was resolved that Cressida should be given up for Antenor; then the parliament dispersed. Troilus hastened home to his chamber, shut himself up alone, and threw himself on his bed.
And as in winter leaves be bereft, Each after other, till the tree be bare, So that there is but bark and branch y-left, Lay Troilus, bereft of each welfare, Y-bounden in the blacke bark of care, Disposed *wood out of his wit to braid,* *to go out of his senses* *So sore him sat* the changing of Cresseide. *so ill did he bear*
He rose him up, and ev'ry door he shet,* *shut And window eke; and then this sorrowful man Upon his bedde's side adown him set, Full like a dead image, pale and wan, And in his breast the heaped woe began Out burst, and he to worken in this wise, In his woodness,* as I shall you devise.** *madness **relate
Right as the wilde bull begins to spring, Now here, now there, y-darted* to the heart, *pierced with a dart And of his death roareth in complaining; Right so gan he about the chamber start, Smiting his breast aye with his fistes smart;* *painfully, cruelly His head to the wall, his body to the ground, Full oft he swapt,* himselfe to confound. *struck, dashed
His eyen then, for pity of his heart, Out streameden as swifte welles* tway; *fountains The highe sobbes of his sorrow's smart His speech him reft; unnethes* might he say, *scarcely "O Death, alas! *why n'ilt thou do me dey?* *why will you not Accursed be that day which that Nature