Part 101

“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