THE double sorrow <1> of Troilus to tell,That was the King Priamus’ son of Troy,In loving how his adventures* fell *fortunesFrom woe to weal, and after* out of joy, *afterwardsMy purpose is, ere I you parte froy.* *fromTisiphone,<2> thou help me to inditeThese woeful words, that weep as I do write.
To thee I call, thou goddess of torment!Thou cruel wight, that sorrowest ever in pain;Help me, that am the sorry instrumentThat helpeth lovers, as I can, to plain.* *complainFor well it sits,* the soothe for to sayn, *befitsUnto a woeful wight a dreary fere,* *companionAnd to a sorry tale a sorry cheer.* *countenance
For I, that God of Love’s servants serve,Nor dare to love for mine unlikeliness,* <3> *unsuitablenessPraye for speed,* although I shoulde sterve,** *success **dieSo far I am from his help in darkness;But natheless, might I do yet gladnessTo any lover, or any love avail,* *advanceHave thou the thank, and mine be the travail.
But ye lovers that bathen in gladness,If any drop of pity in you be,Remember you for old past heaviness,For Godde’s love, and on adversityThat others suffer; think how sometime yeFounde how Love durste you displease;Or elles ye have won it with great ease.
And pray for them that been in the caseOf Troilus, as ye may after hear,That Love them bring in heaven to solace;* *delight, comfortAnd for me pray also, that God so dearMay give me might to show, in some mannere,Such pain or woe as Love’s folk endure,In Troilus’ *unseely adventure* *unhappy fortune*
And pray for them that eke be despair’dIn love, that never will recover’d be;And eke for them that falsely be appair’d* *slanderedThrough wicked tongues, be it he or she:Or thus bid* God, for his benignity, *prayTo grant them soon out of this world to pace,* *pass, goThat be despaired of their love’s grace.
And bid also for them that be at easeIn love, that God them grant perseverance,And send them might their loves so to please,That it to them be *worship and pleasance;* *honour and pleasure*For so hope I my soul best to advance,To pray for them that Love’s servants be,And write their woe, and live in charity;
And for to have of them compassion,As though I were their owen brother dear.Now listen all with good entention,* *attentionFor I will now go straight to my mattere,In which ye shall the double sorrow hearOf Troilus, in loving of Cresside,And how that she forsook him ere she died.
In Troy, during the siege, dwelt “a lord of great authority, agreat divine,” named Calchas; who, through the oracle ofApollo, knew that Troy should be destroyed. He stole awaysecretly to the Greek camp, where he was gladly received, andhonoured for his skill in divining, of which the besiegers hopedto make use. Within the city there was great anger at thetreason of Calchas; and the people declared that he and all hiskin were worthy to be burnt. His daughter, whom he had left inthe city, a widow and alone, was in great fear for her life.
Cressida was this lady’s name aright;*As to my doom,* in alle Troy city *in my judgment*So fair was none, for over ev’ry wightSo angelic was her native beauty,That like a thing immortal seemed she,As sooth a perfect heav’nly creature,That down seem’d sent in scorning of Nature.
In her distress, “well nigh out of her wit for pure fear,” sheappealed for protection to Hector; who, “piteous of nature,”and touched by her sorrow and her beauty, assured her ofsafety, so long as she pleased to dwell in Troy. The siege wenton; but they of Troy did not neglect the honour and worship oftheir deities; most of all of “the relic hight Palladion, <4> thatwas their trust aboven ev’ry one.” In April, “when clothed is themead with newe green, of jolly Ver [Spring] the prime,” theTrojans went to hold the festival of Palladion — crowding tothe temple, “in all their beste guise,” lusty knights, fresh ladies,and maidens bright.
Among the which was this Cresseida,In widow’s habit black; but natheless,Right as our firste letter is now A,In beauty first so stood she makeless;* *matchlessHer goodly looking gladded all the press;* *crowdWas never seen thing to be praised derre,* *dearer, more worthyNor under blacke cloud so bright a sterre,* *star
As she was, as they saiden, ev’ry oneThat her behelden in her blacke weed;* *garmentAnd yet she stood, full low and still, alone,Behind all other folk, *in little brede,* *inconspicuously*And nigh the door, ay *under shame’s drede;* *for dread of shame*Simple of bearing, debonair* of cheer, *graciousWith a full sure* looking and mannere. *assured
Dan Troilus, as he was wont to guideHis younge knightes, led them up and downIn that large temple upon ev’ry side,Beholding ay the ladies of the town;Now here, now there, for no devotiounHad he to none, to *reave him* his rest, *deprive him of*But gan to *praise and lacke whom him lest;* *praise and disparage whom he pleased*And in his walk full fast he gan to wait* *watch, observeIf knight or squier of his companyGan for to sigh, or let his eyen bait* *feedOn any woman that he could espy;Then he would smile, and hold it a folly,And say him thus: “Ah, Lord, she sleepeth softFor love of thee, when as thou turnest oft.
“I have heard told, pardie, of your living,Ye lovers, and your lewed* observance, *ignorant, foolishAnd what a labour folk have in winningOf love, and in it keeping with doubtance;* *doubtAnd when your prey is lost, woe and penance;* *sufferingOh, very fooles! may ye no thing see?Can none of you aware by other be?”
But the God of Love vowed vengeance on Troilus for thatdespite, and, showing that his bow was not broken, “hit him atthe full.”
Within the temple went he forth playing,This Troilus, with ev’ry wight about,On this lady and now on that looking,Whether she were of town, or *of without;* *from beyond the walls*And *upon cas* befell, that through the rout* *by chance* *crowdHis eye pierced, and so deep it went,Till on Cresside it smote, and there it stent;* *stayed
And suddenly wax’d wonder sore astoned,* *amazedAnd gan her bet* behold in busy wise: *better“Oh, very god!” <5> thought he; “where hast thou woned* *dweltThat art so fair and goodly to devise?* *describeTherewith his heart began to spread and rise;And soft he sighed, lest men might him hear,And caught again his former *playing cheer.* *jesting demeanour*
*She was not with the least of her stature,* *she was tall*But all her limbes so well answeringWere to womanhood, that creatureWas never lesse mannish in seeming.And eke *the pure wise of her moving* *by very the wayShe showed well, that men might in her guess she moved*Honour, estate,* and womanly nobless. *dignity
Then Troilus right wonder well withalBegan to like her moving and her cheer,* *countenanceWhich somedeal dainous* was, for she let fall *disdainfulHer look a little aside, in such mannereAscaunce* “What! may I not stande here?” *as if to say <6>And after that *her looking gan she light,* *her expression becameThat never thought him see so good a sight. more pleasant*
And of her look in him there gan to quickenSo great desire, and strong affection,That in his hearte’s bottom gan to stickenOf her the fix’d and deep impression;And though he erst* had pored** up and down, *previously **lookedThen was he glad his hornes in to shrink;Unnethes* wist he how to look or wink. *scarcely
Lo! he that held himselfe so cunning,And scorned them that Love’s paines drien,* *sufferWas full unware that love had his dwellingWithin the subtile streames* of her eyen; *rays, glancesThat suddenly he thought he felte dien,Right with her look, the spirit in his heart;Blessed be Love, that thus can folk convert!
She thus, in black, looking to Troilus,Over all things he stoode to behold;But his desire, nor wherefore he stood thus,He neither *cheere made,* nor worde told; *showed by his countenance*But from afar, *his manner for to hold,* *to observe due courtesy*On other things sometimes his look he cast,And eft* <7> on her, while that the service last.** *again **lasted
And after this, not fully all awhaped,* *dauntedOut of the temple all easily be went,Repenting him that ever he had japed* *jestedOf Love’s folk, lest fully the descentOf scorn fell on himself; but what he meant,Lest it were wist on any manner side,His woe he gan dissemble and eke hide.
Returning to his palace, he begins hypocritically to smile andjest at Love’s servants and their pains; but by and by he has todismiss his attendants, feigning “other busy needs.” Then, alonein his chamber, he begins to groan and sigh, and call up againCressida’s form as he saw her in the temple — “making a mirrorof his mind, in which he saw all wholly her figure.” He thinks notravail or sorrow too high a price for the love of such a goodlywoman; and, “full unadvised of his woe coming,”
Thus took he purpose Love’s craft to sue,* *followAnd thought that he would work all privily,First for to hide his desire all *in mew* *in a cage, secretlyFrom every wight y-born, all utterly,*But he might aught recover’d be thereby;* *unless he gained by it*Rememb’ring him, that love *too wide y-blow* *too much spoken of*Yields bitter fruit, although sweet seed be sow.
And, over all this, muche more he thoughtWhat thing to speak, and what to holden in;And what to arten* her to love, he sought; *constrain <8>And on a song anon right to begin,And gan loud on his sorrow for to win;* *overcomeFor with good hope he gan thus to assent* *resolveCressida for to love, and not repent.
The Song of Troilus. <9>
“If no love is, O God! why feel I so?And if love is, what thing and which is he?If love be good, from whence cometh my woe?If it be wick’, a wonder thinketh meWhence ev’ry torment and adversityThat comes of love *may to me savoury think:* *seem acceptable to me*For more I thirst the more that I drink.
“And if I *at mine owen luste bren* *burn by my own will*From whence cometh my wailing and my plaint?If maugre me,<10> *whereto plain I* then? *to what avail do I complain?*I wot ner* why, unweary, that I faint. *neitherO quicke death! O sweete harm so quaint!* *strangeHow may I see in me such quantity,But if that I consent that so it be?
“And if that I consent, I wrongfullyComplain y-wis: thus pushed to and fro,All starreless within a boat am I,Middes the sea, betwixte windes two,That in contrary standen evermo’.Alas! what wonder is this malady! —For heat of cold, for cold of heat, I die!”
Devoting himself wholly to the thought of Cressida — though heyet knew not whether she was woman or goddess — Troilus, inspite of his royal blood, became the very slave of love. He set atnaught every other charge, but to gaze on her as often as hecould; thinking so to appease his hot fire, which thereby onlyburned the hotter. He wrought marvellous feats of arms againstthe Greeks, that she might like him the better for his renown;then love deprived him of sleep, and made his food his foe; tillhe had to “borrow a title of other sickness,” that men might notknow he was consumed with love. Meantime, Cressida gave nosign that she heeded his devotion, or even knew of it; and hewas now consumed with a new fear — lest she loved some otherman. Bewailing his sad lot — ensnared, exposed to the scorn ofthose whose love he had ridiculed, wishing himself arrived atthe port of death, and praying ever that his lady might glad himwith some kind look — Troilus is surprised in his chamber by hisfriend Pandarus, the uncle of Cressida. Pandarus, seeking todivert his sorrow by making him angry, jeeringly asks whetherremorse of conscience, or devotion, or fear of the Greeks, hascaused all this ado. Troilus pitifully beseeches his friend to leavehim to die alone, for die he must, from a cause which he mustkeep hidden; but Pandarus argues against Troilus’ cruelty inhiding from a friend such a sorrow, and Troilus at last confessesthat his malady is love. Pandarus suggests that the belovedobject may be such that his counsel might advance his friend’sdesires; but Troilus scouts the suggestion, saying that Pandaruscould never govern himself in love.
“Yea, Troilus, hearken to me,” quoth Pandare,“Though I be nice;* it happens often so, *foolishThat one that access* doth full evil fare, *in an access of feverBy good counsel can keep his friend therefro’.I have my selfe seen a blind man goWhere as he fell that looke could full wide;A fool may eke a wise man often guide.
“A whetstone is no carving instrument,But yet it maketh sharpe carving tooles;And, if thou know’st that I have aught miswent,* *erred, failedEschew thou that, for such thing to thee school* is. *schooling, lessonThus oughte wise men to beware by fooles;If so thou do, thy wit is well bewared;By its contrary is everything declared.
“For how might ever sweetness have been knowTo him that never tasted bitterness?And no man knows what gladness is, I trow,That never was in sorrow or distress:Eke white by black, by shame eke worthiness,Each set by other, *more for other seemeth,* *its quality is madeAs men may see; and so the wise man deemeth.” more obvious by the contrast*Troilus, however, still begs his friend to leave him to mourn inpeace, for all his proverbs can avail nothing. But Pandarusinsists on plying the lover with wise saws, arguments,reproaches; hints that, if he should die of love, his lady mayimpute his death to fear of the Greeks; and finally inducesTroilus to admit that the well of all his woe, his sweetest foe, iscalled Cressida. Pandarus breaks into praises of the lady, andcongratulations of his friend for so well fixing his heart; hemakes Troilus utter a formal confession of his sin in jesting atlovers and bids him think well that she of whom rises all hiswoe, hereafter may his comfort be also.
“For thilke* ground, that bears the weedes wick’ *that sameBears eke the wholesome herbes, and full oftNext to the foule nettle, rough and thick,The lily waxeth,* white, and smooth, and soft; *growsAnd next the valley is the hill aloft,And next the darke night is the glad morrow,And also joy is next the fine* of sorrow.” *end, border
Pandarus holds out to Troilus good hope of achieving hisdesire; and tells him that, since he has been converted from hiswicked rebellion against Love, he shall be made the best post ofall Love’s law, and most grieve Love’s enemies. Troilus givesutterance to a hint of fear; but he is silenced by Pandarus withanother proverb — “Thou hast full great care, lest that the carlshould fall out of the moon.” Then the lovesick youth breaksinto a joyous boast that some of the Greeks shall smart; hemounts his horse, and plays the lion in the field; while Pandarusretires to consider how he may best recommend to his niece thesuit of Troilus.