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`Wel wot I, whyl my lyf was in quiete, 505

Er thou me slowe, I wolde have yeven hyre;

But now thy cominge is to me so swete,

That in this world I no-thing so desyre.

O deeth, sin with this sorwe I am a-fyre,

Thou outher do me anoon yn teres drenche, 510

Or with thy colde strook myn hete quenche!

`Sin that thou sleest so fele in sondry wyse

Ayens hir wil, unpreyed, day and night,

Do me, at my requeste, this servyse,

Delivere now the world, so dostow right, 515

Of me, that am the wofulleste wight

That ever was; for tyme is that I sterve,

Sin in this world of right nought may I serve.'

This Troilus in teres gan distille,

As licour out of alambyk ful faste; 520

And Pandarus gan holde his tunge stille,

And to the ground his eyen doun he caste.

But nathelees, thus thoughte he at the laste,

`What, parde, rather than my felawe deye,

Yet shal I som-what more un-to him seye:' 525

And seyde, `Freend, sin thou hast swich distresse,

And sin thee list myn arguments to blame,

Why nilt thy-selven helpen doon redresse,

And with thy manhod letten al this grame?

Go ravisshe hir ne canstow not for shame! 530

And outher lat hir out of toune fare,

Or hold hir stille, and leve thy nyce fare.

`Artow in Troye, and hast non hardiment

To take a womman which that loveth thee,

And wolde hir-selven been of thyn assent? 535

Now is not this a nyce vanitee?

Rys up anoon, and lat this weping be,

And kyth thou art a man, for in this houre

I wil be deed, or she shal bleven oure.'

To this answerde him Troilus ful softe, 540

And seyde, `Parde, leve brother dere,

Al this have I my-self yet thought ful ofte,

And more thing than thou devysest here.

But why this thing is laft, thou shalt wel here;

And whan thou me hast yeve an audience, 545

Ther-after mayst thou telle al thy sentence.

`First, sin thou wost this toun hath al this werre

For ravisshing of wommen so by might,

It sholde not be suffred me to erre,

As it stant now, ne doon so gret unright. 550

I sholde han also blame of every wight,

My fadres graunt if that I so withstode,

Sin she is chaunged for the tounes goode.

`I have eek thought, so it were hir assent,

To aske hir at my fader, of his grace; 555

Than thenke I, this were hir accusement,

Sin wel I woot I may hir not purchace.

For sin my fader, in so heigh a place

As parlement, hath hir eschaunge enseled,

He nil for me his lettre be repeled. 560

`Yet drede I most hir herte to pertourbe

With violence, if I do swich a game;

For if I wolde it openly distourbe,

It moste been disclaundre to hir name.

And me were lever deed than hir defame, 565

As nolde god but-if I sholde have

Hir honour lever than my lyf to save!

`Thus am I lost, for ought that I can see;

For certeyn is, sin that I am hir knight,

I moste hir honour levere han than me 570

In every cas, as lovere oughte of right.

Thus am I with desyr and reson twight;

Desyr for to destourben hir me redeth,

And reson nil not, so myn herte dredeth.'

Thus wepinge that he coude never cesse, 575

He seyde, `Allas! How shal I, wrecche, fare?

For wel fele I alwey my love encresse,

And hope is lasse and lasse alwey, Pandare!

Encressen eek the causes of my care;

So wel-a-wey, why nil myn herte breste? 580

For, as in love, ther is but litel reste.'

Pandare answerde, `Freend, thou mayst, for me,

Don as thee list; but hadde ich it so hote,

And thyn estat, she sholde go with me;

Though al this toun cryede on this thing by note, 585

I nolde sette at al that noyse a grote.

For when men han wel cryed, than wol they roune;

A wonder last but nyne night never in toune.

`Devyne not in reson ay so depe

Ne curteysly, but help thy-self anoon; 590

Bet is that othere than thy-selven wepe,

And namely, sin ye two been al oon.

Rys up, for by myn heed, she shal not goon;

And rather be in blame a lyte y-founde

Than sterve here as a gnat, with-oute wounde. 595

`It is no shame un-to yow, ne no vyce

Hir to with-holden, that ye loveth most.

Paraunter, she mighte holden thee for nyce

To lete hir go thus to the Grekes ost.