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As I, on whiche the faireste and the beste 1280

That ever I say, deyneth hir herte reste.

`Here may men seen that mercy passeth right;

The experience of that is felt in me,

That am unworthy to so swete a wight.

But herte myn, of your benignitee, 1285

So thenketh, though that I unworthy be,

Yet mot I nede amenden in som wyse,

Right thourgh the vertu of your heyghe servyse.

`And for the love of god, my lady dere,

Sin god hath wrought me for I shal yow serve, 1290

As thus I mene, that ye wol be my stere,

To do me live, if that yow liste, or sterve,

So techeth me how that I may deserve

Your thank, so that I, thurgh myn ignoraunce,

Ne do no-thing that yow be displesaunce. 1295

`For certes, fresshe wommanliche wyf,

This dar I seye, that trouthe and diligence,

That shal ye finden in me al my lyf,

Ne wol not, certeyn, breken your defence;

And if I do, present or in absence, 1300

For love of god, lat slee me with the dede,

If that it lyke un-to your womanhede.'

`Y-wis,' quod she, `myn owne hertes list,

My ground of ese, and al myn herte dere,

Graunt mercy, for on that is al my trist; 1305

But late us falle awey fro this matere;

For it suffyseth, this that seyd is here.

And at o word, with-outen repentaunce,

Wel-come, my knight, my pees, my suffisaunce!'

Of hir delyt, or Ioyes oon the leste 1310

Were impossible to my wit to seye;

But iuggeth, ye that han ben at the feste,

Of swich gladnesse, if that hem liste pleye!

I can no more, but thus thise ilke tweye

That night, be-twixen dreed and sikernesse, 1315

Felten in love the grete worthinesse.

O blisful night, of hem so longe y-sought,

How blithe un-to hem bothe two thou were!

Why ne hadde I swich on with my soule y-bought,

Ye, or the leeste Ioye that was there? 1320

A-wey, thou foule daunger and thou fere,

And lat hem in this hevene blisse dwelle,

That is so heygh, that al ne can I telle!

But sooth is, though I can not tellen al,

As can myn auctor, of his excellence, 1325

Yet have I seyd, and, god to-forn, I shal

In every thing al hoolly his sentence.

And if that I, at loves reverence,

Have any word in eched for the beste,

Doth therwith-al right as your-selven leste. 1330

For myne wordes, here and every part,

I speke hem alle under correccioun

Of yow, that feling han in loves art,

And putte it al in your discrecioun

To encrese or maken diminucioun 1335

Of my langage, and that I yow bi-seche;

But now to purpos of my rather speche.

Thise ilke two, that ben in armes laft,

So looth to hem a-sonder goon it were,

That ech from other wende been biraft, 1340

Or elles, lo, this was hir moste fere,

That al this thing but nyce dremes were;

For which ful ofte ech of hem seyde, `O swete,

Clippe ich yow thus, or elles I it mete?'

And, lord! So he gan goodly on hir see, 1345

That never his look ne bleynte from hir face,

And seyde, `O dere herte, may it be

That it be sooth, that ye ben in this place?'

`Ye, herte myn, god thank I of his grace!'

Quod tho Criseyde, and therwith-al him kiste, 1350

That where his spirit was, for Ioye he niste.

This Troilus ful ofte hir eyen two

Gan for to kisse, and seyde, `O eyen clere,

It were ye that wroughte me swich wo,

Ye humble nettes of my lady dere! 1355

Though ther be mercy writen in your chere,

God wot, the text ful hard is, sooth, to finde,

How coude ye with-outen bond me binde?'

Therwith he gan hir faste in armes take,

And wel an hundred tymes gan he syke, 1360

Nought swiche sorwfull sykes as men make

For wo, or elles whan that folk ben syke,

But esy sykes, swiche as been to lyke,

That shewed his affeccioun with-inne;

Of swiche sykes coude he nought bilinne. 1365

Sone after this they speke of sondry thinges,

As fil to purpos of this aventure,

And pleyinge entrechaungeden hir ringes,

Of which I can nought tellen no scripture;

But wel I woot, a broche, gold and asure, 1370

In whiche a ruby set was lyk an herte,

Criseyde him yaf, and stak it on his sherte.

Lord! trowe ye, a coveitous, a wreccbe,

That blameth love and holt of it despyt,