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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [1464]

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I roughte nought though alle hir foos it herde.

`But tel me how, thou that woost al this matere,

How I might best avaylen? Now lat see.' 1430

Quod Pandarus; `If ye, my lord so dere,

Wolden as now don this honour to me,

To preyen hir to-morwe, lo, that she

Come un-to yow hir pleyntes to devyse,

Hir adversaries wolde of it agryse. 1435

`And if I more dorste preye as now,

And chargen yow to have so greet travayle,

To han som of your bretheren here with yow,

That mighten to hir cause bet avayle,

Than, woot I wel, she mighte never fayle 1440

For to be holpen, what at your instaunce,

What with hir othere freendes governaunce.'

Deiphebus, which that comen was, of kinde,

To al honour and bountee to consente,

Answerde, `It shal be doon; and I can finde 1445

Yet gretter help to this in myn entente.

What wolt thow seyn, if I for Eleyne sente

To speke of this? I trowe it be the beste;

For she may leden Paris as hir leste.

`Of Ector, which that is my lord, my brother, 1450

It nedeth nought to preye him freend to be;

For I have herd him, o tyme and eek other,

Speke of Criseyde swich honour, that he

May seyn no bet, swich hap to him hath she.

It nedeth nought his helpes for to crave; 1455

He shal be swich, right as we wole him have.

`Spek thou thy-self also to Troilus

On my bihalve, and pray him with us dyne.'

`Sire, al this shal be doon,' quod Pandarus;

And took his leve, and never gan to fyne, 1460

But to his neces hous, as streyt as lyne,

He com; and fond hir fro the mete aryse;

And sette him doun, and spak right in this wyse.

He seyde, `O veray god, so have I ronne!

Lo, nece myn, see ye nought how I swete? 1465

I noot whether ye the more thank me conne.

Be ye nought war how that fals Poliphete

Is now aboute eft-sones for to plete,

And bringe on yow advocacyes newe?'

`I? No,' quod she, and chaunged al hir hewe. 1470

`What is he more aboute, me to drecche

And doon me wrong? What shal I do, allas?

Yet of him-self no-thing ne wolde I recche,

Nere it for Antenor and Eneas,

That been his freendes in swich maner cas; 1475

But, for the love of god, myn uncle dere,

No fors of that; lat him have al y-fere;

`With-outen that I have ynough for us.'

`Nay,' quod Pandare, `it shal no-thing be so.

For I have been right now at Deiphebus, 1480

And Ector, and myne othere lordes mo,

And shortly maked eche of hem his fo;

That, by my thrift, he shal it never winne

For ought he can, whan that so he biginne.'

And as they casten what was best to done, 1485

Deiphebus, of his owene curtasye,

Com hir to preye, in his propre persone,

To holde him on the morwe companye

At diner, which she nolde not denye,

But goodly gan to his preyere obeye. 1490

He thonked hir, and wente up-on his weye.

Whanne this was doon, this Pandare up a-noon,

To telle in short, and forth gan for to wende

To Troilus, as stille as any stoon;

And al this thing he tolde him, word and ende; 1495

And how that he Deiphebus gan to blende;

And seyde him, `Now is tyme, if that thou conne,

To bere thee wel to-morwe, and al is wonne.

`Now spek, now prey, now pitously compleyne;

Lat not for nyce shame, or drede, or slouthe; 1500

Som-tyme a man mot telle his owene peyne;

Bileve it, and she shal han on thee routhe;

Thou shalt be saved by thy feyth, in trouthe.

But wel wot I, thou art now in a drede;

And what it is, I leye, I can arede. 1505

`Thow thinkest now, "How sholde I doon al this?

For by my cheres mosten folk aspye,

That for hir love is that I fare a-mis;

Yet hadde I lever unwist for sorwe dye."

Now thenk not so, for thou dost greet folye. 1510

For I right now have founden o manere

Of sleighte, for to coveren al thy chere.

`Thow shalt gon over night, and that as blyve,

Un-to Deiphebus hous, as thee to pleye,

Thy maladye a-wey the bet to dryve, 1515

For-why thou semest syk, soth for to seye.

Sone after that, doun in thy bed thee leye,

And sey, thow mayst no lenger up endure,

And ly right there, and byde thyn aventure.

`Sey that thy fever is wont thee for to take 1520

The same tyme,

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