Chapter 65

And as in winter leaves be bereft, Each after other, till the tree be bare, So that there is but bark and branch y-left, Lay Troilus, bereft of each welfare, Y-bounden in the blacke bark of care, Disposed *wood out of his wit to braid,* *to go out of his senses* *So sore him sat* the changing of Cresseide. *so ill did he bear*

He rose him up, and ev’ry door he shet,* *shut And window eke; and then this sorrowful man Upon his bedde’s side adown him set, Full like a dead image, pale and wan, And in his breast the heaped woe began Out burst, and he to worken in this wise, In his woodness,* as I shall you devise.** *madness **relate

Right as the wilde bull begins to spring, Now here, now there, y-darted* to the heart, *pierced with a dart And of his death roareth in complaining; Right so gan he about the chamber start, Smiting his breast aye with his fistes smart;* *painfully, cruelly His head to the wall, his body to the ground, Full oft he swapt,* himselfe to confound. *struck, dashed

His eyen then, for pity of his heart, Out streameden as swifte welles* tway; *fountains The highe sobbes of his sorrow’s smart His speech him reft; unnethes* might he say, *scarcely “O Death, alas! *why n’ilt thou do me dey?* *why will you not Accursed be that day which that Nature make me die?* Shope* me to be a living creature!” *shaped

Bitterly reviling Fortune, and calling on Love to explain why his happiness with Cressicla should be thus repealed, Troilus declares that, while he lives, he will bewail his misfortune in solitude, and will never see it shine or rain, but will end his sorrowful life in darkness, and die in distress.

“O weary ghost, that errest to and fro! Why n’ilt* thou fly out of the woefulest *wilt not Body that ever might on grounde go? O soule, lurking in this woeful nest! Flee forth out of my heart, and let it brest,* *burst And follow alway Cresside, thy lady dear! Thy righte place is now no longer here.

“O woeful eyen two! since your disport* *delight Was all to see Cressida’s eyen bright, What shall ye do, but, for my discomfort, Stande for naught, and weepen out your sight, Since she is quench’d, that wont was you to light? In vain, from this forth, have I eyen tway Y-formed, since your virtue is away!

“O my Cresside! O lady sovereign Of thilke* woeful soule that now cryeth! *this Who shall now give comfort to thy pain? Alas! no wight; but, when my hearte dieth, My spirit, which that so unto you hieth,* *hasteneth Receive *in gree,* for that shall ay you serve; *with favour* *Forthy no force is* though the body sterve.* *therefore no matter* *die “O ye lovers, that high upon the wheel Be set of Fortune, in good adventure, God lene* that ye find ay** love of steel,<69> *grant **always And longe may your life in joy endure! But when ye come by my sepulture,* *sepulchre Remember that your fellow resteth there; For I lov’d eke, though I unworthy were.

“O old, unwholesome, and mislived man, Calchas I mean, alas! what ailed thee To be a Greek, since thou wert born Trojan? O Calchas! which that will my bane* be, *destruction In cursed time wert thou born for me! As woulde blissful Jove, for his joy, That I thee hadde where I would in Troy!”

Soon Troilus, through excess of grief, fell into a trance; in which he was found by Pandarus, who had gone almost distracted at the news that Cressida was to be exchanged for Antenor. At his friend’s arrival, Troilus “gan as the snow against the sun to melt;” the two mingled their tears a while; then Pandarus strove to comfort the woeful lover. He admitted that never had a stranger ruin than this been wrought by Fortune:

“But tell me this, why thou art now so mad To sorrow thus? Why li’st thou in this wise, Since thy desire all wholly hast thou had, So that by right it ought enough suffice? But I, that never felt in my service A friendly cheer or looking of an eye, Let me thus weep and wail until I die. <70>

“And over all this, as thou well wost* thy selve, *knowest This town is full of ladies all about, And, *to my doom,* fairer than suche twelve *in my judgment* As ever she was, shall I find in some rout,* *company Yea! one or two, withouten any doubt: Forthy* be glad, mine owen deare brother! *therefore If she be lost, we shall recover another.

“What! God forbid alway that each pleasance In one thing were, and in none other wight; If one can sing, another can well dance; If this be goodly, she is glad and light; And this is fair, and that can good aright; Each for his virtue holden is full dear, Both heroner, and falcon for rivere. <71>

“And eke as writ Zausis,<72> that was full wise, The newe love out chaseth oft the old, And upon new case lieth new advice; <73> Think eke thy life to save thou art hold;* *bound Such fire *by process shall of kinde cold;* *shall grow cold by For, since it is but casual pleasance, process of nature* Some case* shall put it out of remembrance. *chance

“For, all so sure as day comes after night, The newe love, labour, or other woe, Or elles seldom seeing of a wight, Do old affections all *over go;* *overcome* And for thy part, thou shalt have one of tho* *those T’abridge with thy bitter paine’s smart; Absence of her shall drive her out of heart.”

These wordes said he *for the nones all,* *only for the nonce* To help his friend, lest he for sorrow died; For, doubteless, to do his woe to fall,* *make his woe subside* He raughte* not what unthrift** that he said; *cared **folly But Troilus, that nigh for sorrow died, Took little heed of all that ever he meant; One ear it heard, at th’other out it went.

But, at the last, he answer’d and said, “Friend, This leachcraft, or y-healed thus to be, Were well sitting* if that I were a fiend, *recked To traisen* her that true is unto me: *betray I pray God, let this counsel never the,* *thrive But do me rather sterve* anon right here, *die Ere I thus do, as thou me wouldest lear!”* *teach

Troilus protests that his lady shall have him wholly hers till death; and, debating the counsels of his friend, declares that even if he would, he could not love another. Then he points out the folly of not lamenting the loss of Cressida because she had been his in ease and felicity — while Pandarus himself, though he thought it so light to change to and fro in love, had not done busily his might to change her that wrought him all the woe of his unprosperous suit.

“If thou hast had in love ay yet mischance, And canst it not out of thine hearte drive, I that lived in lust* and in pleasance *delight With her, as much as creature alive, How should I that forget, and that so blive?* *quickly O where hast thou been so long hid in mew,*<74> *cage That canst so well and formally argue!”

The lover condemns the whole discourse of his friend as unworthy, and calls on Death, the ender of all sorrows, to come to him and quench his heart with his cold stroke. Then he distils anew in tears, “as liquor out of alembic;” and Pandarus is silent for a while, till he bethinks him to recommend to Troilus the carrying off of Cressida. “Art thou in Troy, and hast no hardiment [daring, boldness] to take a woman which that loveth thee?” But Troilus reminds his counsellor that all the war had come from the ravishing of a woman by might (the abduction of Helen by Paris); and that it would not beseem him to withstand his father’s grant, since the lady was to be changed for the town’s good. He has dismissed the thought of asking Cressida from his father, because that would be to injure her fair fame, to no purpose, for Priam could not overthrow the decision of “so high a place as parliament;” while most of all he fears to perturb her heart with violence, to the slander of her name — for he must hold her honour dearer than himself in every case, as lovers ought of right:

“Thus am I in desire and reason twight:* *twisted Desire, for to disturbe her, me redeth;* *counseleth And Reason will not, so my hearte dreadeth.”* *is in doubt

Thus weeping, that he coulde never cease He said, “Alas! how shall I, wretche, fare? For well feel I alway my love increase, And hope is less and less alway, Pandare! Increasen eke the causes of my care; So well-away! *why n’ ill my hearte brest?* *why will not For us in love there is but little rest.” my heart break?*

Pandare answered, “Friend, thou may’st for me Do as thee list;* but had I it so hot, *please And thine estate,* she shoulde go with me! *rank Though all this town cried on this thing by note, I would not set* all that noise a groat; *value For when men have well cried, then will they rown,* *whisper Eke wonder lasts but nine nights ne’er in town.

“Divine not in reason ay so deep, Nor courteously, but help thyself anon; Bet* is that others than thyselfe weep; *better And namely, since ye two be all one, Rise up, for, by my head, she shall not go’n! And rather be in blame a little found, Than sterve* here as a gnat withoute wound! *die

“It is no shame unto you, nor no vice, Her to withholde, that ye loveth most; Parauntre* she might holde thee for nice,** *peradventure **foolish To let her go thus unto the Greeks’ host; Think eke, Fortune, as well thyselfe wost, Helpeth the hardy man to his emprise, And weiveth* wretches for their cowardice. *forsaketh

“And though thy lady would a lite* her grieve, *little Thou shalt thyself thy peace thereafter make; But, as to me, certain I cannot ’lieve That she would it as now for evil take: Why shoulde then for fear thine hearte quake? Think eke how Paris hath, that is thy brother, A love; and why shalt thou not have another?

“And, Troilus, one thing I dare thee swear, That if Cressida, which that is thy lief,* *love Now loveth thee as well as thou dost her, God help me so, she will not take agrief* *amiss Though thou *anon do boot in* this mischief; *provide a remedy And if she willeth from thee for to pass, immediately* Then is she false, so love her well the lass.* *less

“Forthy,* take heart, and think, right as a knight, *therefore Through love is broken all day ev’ry law; Kithe* now somewhat thy courage and thy might; *show Have mercy on thyself, *for any awe;* *in spite of any fear* Let not this wretched woe thine hearte gnaw; But, manly, set the world on six and seven, <75> And, if thou die a martyr, go to heaven.”

Pandarus promises his friend all aid in the enterprise; it is agreed that Cressida shall be carried off, but only with her own consent; and Pandarus sets out for his niece’s house, to arrange an interview. Meantime Cressida has heard the news; and, caring nothing for her father, but everything for Troilus, she burns in love and fear, unable to tell what she shall do.

But, as men see in town, and all about, That women use* friendes to visite, *are accustomed So to Cresside of women came a rout,* *troop For piteous joy, and *weened her delight,* *thought to please her* And with their tales, *dear enough a mite,* *not worth a mite* These women, which that in the city dwell, They set them down, and said as I shall tell.

Quoth first that one, “I am glad, truely, Because of you, that shall your father see;” Another said, “Y-wis, so am not I, For all too little hath she with us be.”* *been Quoth then the third, “I hope, y-wis, that she Shall bringen us the peace on ev’ry side; Then, when she goes, Almighty God her guide!”

Those wordes, and those womanishe thinges, She heard them right as though she thennes* were, *thence; in some For, God it wot, her heart on other thing is; other place Although the body sat among them there, Her advertence* is always elleswhere; *attention For Troilus full fast her soule sought; Withoute word, on him alway she thought.

These women that thus weened her to please, Aboute naught gan all their tales spend; Such vanity ne can do her no ease, As she that all this meane while brenn’d Of other passion than that they wend;* *weened, supposed So that she felt almost her hearte die For woe, and weary* of that company. *weariness

For whiche she no longer might restrain Her teares, they began so up to well, That gave signes of her bitter pain, In which her spirit was, and muste dwell, Rememb’ring her from heav’n into which hell She fallen was, since she forwent* the sight *lost Of Troilus; and sorrowfully she sight.* *sighed

And thilke fooles, sitting her about, Weened that she had wept and siked* sore, *sighed Because that she should out of that rout* *company Depart, and never playe with them more; And they that hadde knowen her of yore Saw her so weep, and thought it kindeness, And each of them wept eke for her distress.

And busily they gonnen* her comfort *began Of thing, God wot, on which she little thought; And with their tales weened her disport, And to be glad they her besought; But such an ease therewith they in her wrought, Right as a man is eased for to feel, For ache of head, to claw him on his heel.

But, after all this nice* vanity, *silly They took their leave, and home they wenten all; Cressida, full of sorrowful pity, Into her chamber up went out of the hall, And on her bed she gan for dead to fall, In purpose never thennes for to rise; And thus she wrought, as I shall you devise.* *narrate

She rent her sunny hair, wrung her hands, wept, and bewailed her fate; vowing that, since, “for the cruelty,” she could handle neither sword nor dart, she would abstain from meat and drink until she died. As she lamented, Pandarus entered, making her complain a thousand times more at the thought of all the joy which he had given her with her lover; but he somewhat soothed her by the prospect of Troilus’s visit, and by the counsel to contain her grief when he should come. Then Pandarus went in search of Troilus, whom he found solitary in a temple, as one that had ceased to care for life:

For right thus was his argument alway: He said he was but lorne,* well-away! *lost, ruined “For all that comes, comes by necessity; Thus, to be lorn,* it is my destiny. *lost, ruined

“For certainly this wot I well,” he said, “That foresight of the divine purveyance* *providence Hath seen alway me to forgo* Cresseide, *lose Since God sees ev’ry thing, *out of doubtance,* *without doubt* And them disposeth, through his ordinance, In their merites soothly for to be, As they should come by predestiny.

“But natheless, alas! whom shall I ’lieve? For there be greate clerkes* many one *scholars That destiny through argumentes preve, *prove And some say that needly* there is none, *necessarily But that free choice is giv’n us ev’ry one; O well-away! so sly are clerkes old, That I n’ot* whose opinion I may hold. <76> *know not

“For some men say, if God sees all beforn, Godde may not deceived be, pardie! Then must it fallen,* though men had it sworn, *befall, happen That purveyance hath seen before to be; Wherefore I say, that from etern* if he *eternity Hath wist* before our thought eke as our deed, *known We have no free choice, as these clerkes read.* *maintain

“For other thought, nor other deed also, Might never be, but such as purveyance, Which may not be deceived never mo’, Hath feeled* before, without ignorance; *perceived For if there mighte be a variance, To writhen out from Godde’s purveying, There were no prescience of thing coming,

“But it were rather an opinion Uncertain, and no steadfast foreseeing; And, certes, that were an abusion,* *illusion That God should have no perfect clear weeting,* *knowledge More than we men, that have *doubtous weening;* *dubious opinion* But such an error *upon God to guess,* *to impute to God* Were false, and foul, and wicked cursedness.* *impiety

“Eke this is an opinion of some That have their top full high and smooth y-shore, <77> They say right thus, that thing is not to come, For* that the prescience hath seen before *because That it shall come; but they say, that therefore That it shall come, therefore the purveyance Wot it before, withouten ignorance.

“And, in this manner, this necessity *Returneth in his part contrary again;* *reacts in the opposite For needfully behoves it not to be, direction* That thilke thinges *fallen in certain,* *certainly happen* That be purvey’d; but needly, as they sayn, Behoveth it that thinges, which that fall, That they in certain be purveyed all.

“I mean as though I labour’d me in this To inquire which thing cause of which thing be; As, whether that the prescience of God is The certain cause of the necessity Of thinges that to come be, pardie! Or if necessity of thing coming Be cause certain of the purveying.

“But now *enforce I me not* in shewing *I do not lay stress* How th’order of causes stands; but well wot I, That it behoveth, that the befalling Of thinges wiste* before certainly, *known Be necessary, *all seem it not* thereby, *though it does not appear* That prescience put falling necessair To thing to come, all fall it foul or fair.

“For, if there sit a man yond on a see,* *seat Then by necessity behoveth it That certes thine opinion sooth be, That weenest, or conjectest,* that he sit; *conjecturest And, furtherover, now againward yet, Lo! right so is it on the part contrary; As thus, — now hearken, for I will not tarry; —

“I say that if th’opinion of thee Be sooth, for that he sits, then say I this, That he must sitte by necessity; And thus necessity in either is, For in him need of sitting is, y-wis, And, in thee, need of sooth; and thus forsooth There must necessity be in you both.

“But thou may’st say he sits not therefore That thine opinion of his sitting sooth But rather, for the man sat there before, Therefore is thine opinion sooth, y-wis; And I say, though the cause of sooth of this Comes of his sitting, yet necessity Is interchanged both in him and thee.

“Thus in the same wise, out of doubtance, I may well maken, as it seemeth me, My reasoning of Godde’s purveyance, And of the thinges that to come be; By whiche reason men may well y-see That thilke* thinges that in earthe fall,** *those **happen That by necessity they comen all.

“For although that a thing should come, y-wis, Therefore it is purveyed certainly, Not that it comes for it purveyed is; Yet, natheless, behoveth needfully That thing to come be purvey’d truely; Or elles thinges that purveyed be, That they betide* by necessity. *happen

“And this sufficeth right enough, certain, For to destroy our free choice ev’ry deal; But now is this abusion,* to sayn *illusion, self-deception That falling of the thinges temporel Is cause of Godde’s prescience eternel; Now truely that is a false sentence,* *opinion, judgment That thing to come should cause his prescience.

“What might I ween, an’* I had such a thought, *if But that God purveys thing that is to come, For that it is to come, and elles nought? So might I ween that thinges, all and some, That *whilom be befall and overcome,* *have happened Be cause of thilke sov’reign purveyance, in times past* That foreknows all, withouten ignorance.

“And over all this, yet say I more thereto, — That right as when I wot there is a thing, Y-wis, that thing must needfully be so; Eke right so, when I wot a thing coming, So must it come; and thus the befalling Of thinges that be wist before the tide,* *time They may not be eschew’d* on any side.” *avoided

While Troilus was in all this heaviness, disputing with himself in this matter, Pandarus joined him, and told him the result of the interview with Cressida; and at night the lovers met, with what sighs and tears may be imagined. Cressida swooned away, so that Troilus took her for dead; and, having tenderly laid out her limbs, as one preparing a corpse for the bier, he drew his sword to slay himself upon her body. But, as God would, just at that moment she awoke out of her swoon; and by and by the pair began to talk of their prospects. Cressida declared the opinion, supporting it at great length and with many reasons, that there was no cause for half so much woe on either part. Her surrender, decreed by the parliament, could not be resisted; it was quite easy for them soon to meet again; she would bring things about that she should be back in Troy within a week or two; she would take advantage of the constant coming and going while the truce lasted; and the issue would be, that the Trojans would have both her and Antenor; while, to facilitate her return, she had devised a stratagem by which, working on her father’s avarice, she might tempt him to desert from the Greek camp back to the city. “And truly,” says the poet, having fully reported her plausible speech,

And truely, as written well I find, That all this thing was said *of good intent,* *sincerely* And that her hearte true was and kind Towardes him, and spake right as she meant, And that she starf* for woe nigh when she went, *died And was in purpose ever to be true; Thus write they that of her workes knew.

This Troilus, with heart and ears y-sprad,* *all open Heard all this thing devised to and fro, And verily it seemed that he had *The selfe wit;* but yet to let her go *the same opinion* His hearte misforgave* him evermo’; *misgave But, finally, he gan his hearte wrest* *compel To truste her, and took it for the best.

For which the great fury of his penance* *suffering Was quench’d with hope, and therewith them between Began for joy the amorouse dance; And as the birdes, when the sun is sheen, *bright Delighten in their song, in leaves green, Right so the wordes that they spake y-fere* *together Delighten them, and make their heartes cheer.* *glad