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As help me Pallas with hir heres clere,

If that I sholde of any Greek han routhe, 1000

It sholde be your-selven, by my trouthe!

`I sey not therfore that I wol yow love,

Ne I sey not nay, but in conclusioun,

I mene wel, by god that sit above:' —

And ther-with-al she caste hir eyen doun, 1005

And gan to syke, and seyde, `O Troye toun,

Yet bidde I god, in quiete and in reste

I may yow seen, or do myn herte breste.'

But in effect, and shortly for to seye,

This Diomede al freshly newe ayeyn 1010

Gan pressen on, and faste hir mercy preye;

And after this, the sothe for to seyn,

Hir glove he took, of which he was ful fayn.

And fynally, whan it was waxen eve,

And al was wel, he roos and took his leve. 1015

The brighte Venus folwede and ay taughte

The wey, ther brode Phebus doun alighte;

And Cynthea hir char-hors over-raughte

To whirle out of the Lyon, if she mighte;

And Signifer his candelse shewed brighte, 1020

Whan that Criseyde un-to hir bedde wente

In-with hir fadres faire brighte tente.

Retorning in hir soule ay up and doun

The wordes of this sodein Diomede,

His greet estat, and peril of the toun, 1025

And that she was allone and hadde nede

Of freendes help; and thus bigan to brede

The cause why, the sothe for to telle,

That she tok fully purpos for to dwelle.

The morwe com, and goostly for to speke, 1030

This Diomede is come un-to Criseyde,

And shortly, lest that ye my tale breke,

So wel he for him-selve spak and seyde,

That alle hir sykes sore adoun he leyde.

And fynally, the sothe for to seyne, 1035

He refte hir of the grete of al hir peyne.

And after this the story telleth us,

That she him yaf the faire baye stede,

The which he ones wan of Troilus;

And eek a broche (and that was litel nede) 1040

That Troilus was, she yaf this Diomede.

And eek, the bet from sorwe him to releve,

She made him were a pencel of hir sleve.

I finde eek in stories elles-where,

Whan through the body hurt was Diomede 1045

Of Troilus, tho weep she many a tere,

Whan that she saugh his wyde woundes blede;

And that she took to kepen him good hede,

And for to hele him of his sorwes smerte.

Men seyn, I not, that she yaf him hir herte. 1050

But trewely, the story telleth us,

Ther made never womman more wo

Than she, whan that she falsed Troilus.

She seyde, `Allas! For now is clene a-go

My name of trouthe in love, for ever-mo! 1055

For I have falsed oon, the gentileste

That ever was, and oon the worthieste!

`Allas, of me, un-to the worldes ende,

Shal neither been y-writen nor y-songe

No good word, for thise bokes wol me shende. 1060

O, rolled shal I been on many a tonge;

Through-out the world my belle shal be ronge;

And wommen most wol hate me of alle.

Allas, that swich a cas me sholde falle!

`They wol seyn, in as muche as in me is, 1065

I have hem don dishonour, weylawey!

Al be I not the first that dide amis,

What helpeth that to do my blame awey?

But sin I see there is no bettre way,

And that to late is now for me to rewe, 1070

To Diomede algate I wol be trewe.

`But Troilus, sin I no better may,

And sin that thus departen ye and I,

Yet preye I god, so yeve yow right good day

As for the gentileste, trewely, 1075

That ever I say, to serven feithfully,

And best can ay his lady honour kepe:' —

And with that word she brast anon to wepe.

`And certes yow ne haten shal I never,

And freendes love, that shal ye han of me, 1080

And my good word, al mighte I liven ever.

And, trewely, I wolde sory be

For to seen yow in adversitee.

And giltelees, I woot wel, I yow leve;

But al shal passe; and thus take I my leve.' 1085

But trewely, how longe it was bitwene,

That she for-sook him for this Diomede,

Ther is non auctor telleth it, I wene.

Take every man now to his bokes hede;

He shal no terme finden, out of drede. 1090

For though that he bigan to wowe hir sone,

Er he hir wan, yet was ther more to done.

Ne me ne list this sely womman chyde

Ferther than the story wol devyse.

Hir name, allas! Is publisshed so wyde, 1095

That for