A ringe! (quod he) ye hafilwodis shaken!
Ye, necè mine, that ring must have a stone,

A stone which that might ded men alive maken,
And suche a ring trowe I that ye have none :
Difcrecion out of your hed is gone,

That fele I now, (quod he) and that is routhe:
O time iloft, wel maist thou curfin flouthe!

Wote ye not wel that noble' and hie corage
Ne foroweth nat, ne stintith eke for lite,
But if a fole were in a jelous rage
I n'olde fettin at his forowe a mite,

896

But fefte him with a fewè wordis white

An othir daie, whan that I might him finde;

But this thing ftant al in anothir kinde;

903

This is fo gentle' and fo tendir of herte

That with his deth he wol his forowes wreke,
For truft it wel how fore fo that him smerte
He wol to you no jelous wordis speke;
And forthy, nece, er that his hert to breke,
So fpeke your felfe to him of this matere,
For with a worde ye maie his hertè stere.
Now have I tolde what peril he is in,
And his coming unwift to every wight,~
Ne parde harme maie there be none ne fin,
I wol my felf be with you al this night;
Ye know eke how it is your ownè knight,
And by that right ye muft upon him trifte,
And I al preft to fetche him when you lifte.
Volume IX.

D

This accident fo pitous was to here," And eke fo like a fothe, at primè face, And Troilus her knight, to her fo dere,'

His prive comming, and the fikir place,

That though the thought she did him than a grace, Confidirid al thingis as thei ftode,

No wondir is, fens he did al for gode.

Crefeide anfwerde, As wifely God at reft

My foulè bring as me is for him wo,
And, eme, iwis faine would I don the best,
If that I a grace had for to do fo;
But whethir that ye dwel or for him go
I am, til God me bettir mindè sende,
At Dulcarnon, right at my witt'is ende.

(Quod Pandarus) Ye, necè, wol ye here,
Dulcarnon clepid is fleming of wretches,
It femith hard, for wretchis wol nought lere
For very flouthe, or othir wilfull tetches,

924

931

This faid is by them that ben't worth two fetches; But ye ben wife, and that ye han on honde

N'is neithir harde ne skilful to withstonde.

938 Than, eme, (quod fhe) doeth hereof as you lift,

But er he come I wol up first arife,

a

And for the love of God, fens al my trift
Is on you two, and ye beth bothè wife,

So werkith now, in fo difcrete a wife,
That I honour maie have and he plefaunce,
For I am here al in your govirnaunce.

945

That is wel faid, (quod he) my necè dere!
There gode thrifte on that wifè gentill herte;
But liggith ftill, and takith him right here,
It nedith nat no ferthir for him sterte;
And eche of you efe othir forowes smert,
For love of God and Venus I the herie,
For fone hope I that we fhullin ben merie.

This Troilus full fone on knees him fette

952

Ful fobrely right by her bedd'is hed,
And in his beftè wife his lady grette;
But Lord! fo fhe woxe fodainliche all red,
And thought anone how that she fhulde be dedde;
She couldè nat o worde aright out bringe,
So fodainly for his fodaine cominge.
But Pandarus, that fo wel couldè fele

In every thing, to plaie anon began,
And fayid, Nece, fe how this lord gan knele,
Now for your trouthè fe this gentil man;
And with that worde he for a quifhin ran,
And faid, Knelith now whilis that thou lefte,
There God your hertis bring fonè to reste.

Can I naught fain, for fhe bad him nat rife,
If forowe' it put out of her remembraunce,
Or ellis that the toke it in the wife
Of duètie as for his obfervaunce;

But well finde I fhe did him this plefaunce,
That she him kist, although she fikid fore,:
And bad him fit adoun withoutin more.

959

966

973

(Quod Pandarus) Now wol ye well begin,
Now doth him fittin doune, gode necè dere!
Upon your bedd'is fide, al there within,
That eche of you the bet maie othir here;
And with that worde he drew him to the fere,
And toke a light, and found his countinaunce
As for to loke upon an old romaunce.

Crefeide, that was Troilus lady right,
And clere ftode in a grounde of fikirneffe,

All thought the that her fervaunt and her knight
Ne fhulde of trouthe none unright of her geffe,
Yet nathèleffe, confidrid his distreffe,
And that love is in caufe of fuche folie,
Thus to him fpake the of his jeloufie:

Lo, hertè mine! as would the excellence
Of love, aienft the whiche that no man maie,
Ne ought eke godely makin resistence,

And eke bicause I feltè wel and faie

Your grete trouth and service every daie,
And that your hert al mine was, foth to faine,
This drove me for to rewe upon your paine;

And your godenes have I founden' alway yet,

Of whiche my dere hert, and al my knight!

I thanke it you, as ferre as I have wit,
Al can I nat as much as it were right;

And I emforth my conning and my might

Have, and aie fhal, how fore fo that me smert,

980

987

994

Ben to you trewe and whole with all mine hert; ro01

And dredileffe that fhal be founde at preve:
But, hertè mine! what al this is to faine
Shal well be told, so that ye nought you greve,
Though I to you right on your self complaine,
For therewith mene I finally the paine
That halt your, hert and mine in hevinesse
Fully to flaine, and every wrong redresse.
My gode hert mine! n'ot I for why ne how
That Jeloufy, alas! that wicked wivere,
Thus caufèleffe is cropin into you,

The harme of whiche I would fain delivere:
Alas! that he all whole or of him flivere
Should have his refute in fo digne a place!

Than Jove him fone out of your herte erace!
But o thou Jove! o auctour of nature!
Is this an honour to thy dignite
That folke ungilty fuffrin here injure,
And who that gilty is al quite goeth he?
O were it lefull for to plaine of the,
That undefervid fuffrift jeloufie,
Of that I would upon the plaine and crie.

Eke al my wo is this, that folke now usen
To faine right thus; Ye, jeloufie is love,
And would a bufhil of venim excufen,
For that a grane of love is on it shove,
But that wote high Jove that fittin above
If it be likir love, or hate, or grame,
And aftir that it ought to bere his name.

1015

1022

1029