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And is a thing so vertuous in kinde,

Refuseth not to Love for to be bonde, 255

Sin, as him-selven list, he may yow binde.

The yerde is bet that bowen wole and winde

Than that that brest; and therfor I yow rede

To folwen him that so wel can yow lede.

But for to tellen forth in special 260

As of this kinges sone of which I tolde,

And leten other thing collateral,

Of him thenke I my tale for to holde,

Both of his Ioye, and of his cares colde;

And al his werk, as touching this matere, 265

For I it gan, I wol ther-to refere.

With-inne the temple he wente him forth pleyinge,

This Troilus, of every wight aboute,

On this lady and now on that lokinge,

Wher-so she were of toune, or of with-oute: 270

And up-on cas bifel, that thorugh a route

His eye perced, and so depe it wente,

Til on Criseyde it smoot, and ther it stente.

And sodeynly he wax ther-with astoned,

And gan hire bet biholde in thrifty wyse: 275

`O mercy, god!' thoughte he, `wher hastow woned,

That art so fair and goodly to devyse?'

Ther-with his herte gan to sprede and ryse,

And softe sighed, lest men mighte him here,

And caughte a-yein his firste pleyinge chere. 280

She nas nat with the leste of hir stature,

But alle hir limes so wel answeringe

Weren to womanhode, that creature

Was neuer lasse mannish in seminge.

And eek the pure wyse of here meninge 285

Shewede wel, that men might in hir gesse

Honour, estat, and wommanly noblesse.

To Troilus right wonder wel with-alle

Gan for to lyke hir meninge and hir chere,

Which somdel deynous was, for she leet falle 290

Hir look a lite a-side, in swich manere,

Ascaunces, `What! May I not stonden here?'

And after that hir loking gan she lighte,

That never thoughte him seen so good a sighte.

And of hir look in him ther gan to quiken 295

So greet desir, and swich affeccioun,

That in his herte botme gan to stiken

Of hir his fixe and depe impressioun:

And though he erst hadde poured up and doun,

He was tho glad his hornes in to shrinke; 300

Unnethes wiste he how to loke or winke.

Lo, he that leet him-selven so konninge,

And scorned hem that loves peynes dryen,

Was ful unwar that love hadde his dwellinge

With-inne the subtile stremes of hir yen; 305

That sodeynly him thoughte he felte dyen,

Right with hir look, the spirit in his herte;

Blissed be love, that thus can folk converte!

She, this in blak, likinge to Troylus,

Over alle thyng, he stood for to biholde; 310

Ne his desir, ne wherfor he stood thus,

He neither chere made, ne worde tolde;

But from a-fer, his maner for to holde,

On other thing his look som-tyme he caste,

And eft on hir, whyl that servyse laste. 315

And after this, not fulliche al awhaped,

Out of the temple al esiliche he wente,

Repentinge him that he hadde ever y-iaped

Of loves folk, lest fully the descente

Of scorn fille on him-self; but, what he mente, 320

Lest it were wist on any maner syde,

His wo he gan dissimulen and hyde.

Whan he was fro the temple thus departed,

He streyght anoon un-to his paleys torneth,

Right with hir look thurgh-shoten and thurgh-darted, 325

Al feyneth he in lust that he soiorneth;

And al his chere and speche also he borneth;

And ay, of loves servants every whyle,

Him-self to wrye, at hem he gan to smyle.

And seyde, `Lord, so ye live al in lest, 330

Ye loveres! For the conningest of yow,

That serveth most ententiflich and best,

Him tit as often harm ther-of as prow;

Your hyre is quit ayein, ye, god wot how!

Nought wel for wel, but scorn for good servyse; 335

In feith, your ordre is ruled in good wyse!

`In noun-certeyn ben alle your observaunces,

But it a sely fewe poyntes be;

Ne no-thing asketh so grete attendaunces

As doth youre lay, and that knowe alle ye; 340

But that is not the worste, as mote I thee;

But, tolde I yow the worste poynt, I leve,

Al seyde I sooth, ye wolden at me greve!

`But tak this, that ye loveres ofte eschuwe,

Or elles doon of good entencioun, 345

Ful ofte thy lady wole it misconstrue,

And deme it harm in hir