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Shal bringen us the pees on every syde,

That, whan she gooth, almighty god hir gyde!'

Tho wordes and tho wommanisshe thinges,

She herde hem right as though she thennes were; 695

For, god it wot, hir herte on other thing is,

Although the body sat among hem there.

Hir advertence is alwey elles-where;

For Troilus ful faste hir soule soughte;

With-outen word, alwey on him she thoughte. 700

Thise wommen, that thus wenden hir to plese,

Aboute nought gonne alle hir tales spende;

Swich vanitee ne can don hir non ese,

As she that, al this mene whyle. brende

Of other passioun than that they wende, 705

So that she felte almost hir herte deye

For wo, and wery of that companye.

For which no lenger mighte she restreyne

Hir teres, so they gonnen up to welle,

That yaven signes of the bitter peyne 710

In whiche hir spirit was, and moste dwelle;

Remembring hir, fro heven unto which helle

She fallen was, sith she forgoth the sighte

Of Troilus, and sorowfully she sighte.

And thilke foles sittinge hir aboute 715

Wenden, that she wepte and syked sore

By-cause that she sholde out of that route

Departe, and never pleye with hem more.

And they that hadde y-knowen hir of yore

Seye hir so wepe, and thoughte it kindenesse, 720

And eche of hem wepte eek for hir destresse;

And bisily they gonnen hir conforten

Of thing, god wot, on which she litel thoughte;

And with hir tales wenden hir disporten,

And to be glad they often hir bisoughte. 725

But swich an ese ther-with they hir wroughte

Right as a man is esed for to fele,

For ache of heed, to clawen him on his hele!

But after al this nyce vanitee

They took hir leve, and hoom they wenten alle. 730

Criseyde, ful of sorweful pitee,

In-to hir chaumbre up wente out of the halle,

And on hir bed she gan for deed to falle,

In purpos never thennes for to ryse;

And thus she wroughte, as I shal yow devyse. 735

Hir ounded heer, that sonnish was of hewe,

She rente, and eek hir fingres longe and smale

She wrong ful ofte, and bad god on hir rewe,

And with the deeth to doon bote on hir bale.

Hir hewe, whylom bright, that tho was pale, 740

Bar witnes of hir wo and hir constreynte;

And thus she spak, sobbinge, in hir compleynte:

`Alas!' quod she, `out of this regioun

I, woful wrecche and infortuned wight,

And born in corsed constellacioun, 745

Mot goon, and thus departen fro my knight;

Wo worth, allas! That ilke dayes light

On which I saw him first with eyen tweyne,

That causeth me, and I him, al this peyne!'

Therwith the teres from hir eyen two 750

Doun fille, as shour in Aperill ful swythe;

Hir whyte brest she bet, and for the wo

After the deeth she cryed a thousand sythe,

Sin he that wont hir wo was for to lythe,

She mot for-goon; for which disaventure 755

She held hir-self a forlost creature.

She seyde, `How shal he doon, and I also?

How sholde I live, if that I from him twinne?

O dere herte eek, that I love so,

Who shal that sorwe sleen that ye ben inne? 760

O Calkas, fader, thyn be al this sinne!

O moder myn, that cleped were Argyve,

Wo worth that day that thou me bere on lyve!

`To what fyn sholde I live and sorwen thus?

How sholde a fish with-oute water dure? 765

What is Criseyde worth, from Troilus?

How sholde a plaunte or lyves creature

Live, with-oute his kinde noriture?

For which ful oft a by-word here I seye,

That "rotelees, mot grene sone deye." 770

`I shal don thus, sin neither swerd ne darte

Dar I non handle, for the crueltee,

That ilke day that I from yow departe,

If sorwe of that nil not my bane be,

Than shal no mete or drinke come in me 775

Til I my soule out of my breste unshethe;

And thus my-selven wol I do to dethe.

`And, Troilus, my clothes everichoon

Shul blake been, in tokeninge, herte swete,

That I am as out of this world agoon, 780

That wont was yow to setten in quiete;

And of myn ordre, ay til deeth me mete,

The observaunce ever, in your absence,

Shal sorwe been, compleynte, and abstinence.

`Myn herte and eek the woful goost ther-inne 785

Biquethe I, with your spirit to compleyne