Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio
Page 404
Of fame he might win in the mighty war,
Of health or safety; and, of fancy led,
Alone, within his breast the amorous lore
Of his fair lady’s virtue spoke instead;
And, by it gladly stayed now more and more,
He only yearned the wounds of love to cure,
And to that task put all his mind and joyaunce pure.
45
From reveries of love he was not stirred
E’en by his sharing in those battles fought
And stern assaults fierce-joined at Hector’s word,
Wherein he with his brothers moved; but, caught
With growing wonder, now the Trojans heard
Or, as they followed, cheered his fierce onslaught,
Or stopped to see the marvel flash in arms,
His courage never daunted in the great alarms.
46
But ’twas no hate for Greeks that moved him so,
Nor victory desired great Troy to free
(Troy which he saw so straitened by her foe
In that great siege); but in him, secretly His will still clutched at glory, urged him go
Down in the field for Love’s felicity, —
Criseis’ favour won! And, if the story’s true,
His mere approach the Greeks in mortal terrour threw.
47
And so had Amor robbed him of his sleep,
His appetite depressed, and earnest thought
So in him multiplied, — that pallour deep
Spread o’er his face the while he toiled and fought
As if it would belie his deeds and weep.
But spite of it, with laughter feigned he sought,
And speaking blithe, to cover up his pain,
Till Troy believed ’twas only war he felt as bane.
48
Whate’er in all this still remains unsure,
Whether Criseis did not once suspect
The love this Troil strove to hide secure,
Or feigning not to know it did elect, —
This much is clear and must as truth endure
That nothing, it appeared, the lady recked
Of all the love her lover tow’rd her bore,
But stood, like one unloved, — unsoftened, — evermore.
49
Whence Troilo such grievous dolour knew
He could not name it e’en, and much he sighed
Lest Criseis should with greater favour view
Some other knight and therefore should deride
His love, if known, and all his service true
Reject; and now a myriad ways he tried,
In his mind’s eye to make his lady feel
How honest was his love, how fervid and how real.
50
And then, when it had stung him thus a space,
The prince began of Love to make a moan,
Saying within: “Lo, Troil, there thy place, —
Where thou didst others mock, — to stand alone!
Ne’er was a lover brought so in disgrace
Since how to keep from Love he had not known!
Thou’rt taken in the net thou censured hast:
Because thou didst not wisely guard thee at the last!
51
“What will be said of thee mid other knights
Who love, if this thy love becometh known?
Will they not revel in new gibes and slights
Or cry at thee: ‘The railer’s overthrown;
No more so seer-like proud the prince indicts
Our sighs and every low-breathed amorous moan;
Behold the bitter bitten! Love be praised,
Who to such end hath brought the scorner lately crazed!’
52
“‘Mong men of prowess now what will be said
Of thee, deemed once a lord of royal might,
Once this is known? Displeased, it is no dread,
They’ll cry: ‘Lo there our prince, the hare-brained wight,
Gone from his mind — caught now by Love and led
Ensnared away — in Troy’s sore hour of plight! —
When in the war his valour should be brought,
He stays — and lets Love’s fire consume his every thought!
53
“Would that, O thou most dolorous Troilo, —
Since it is suffered thee to love one now, —
Thou wert enamoured of some gentler foe
Who, pitying, would console thee for thy vow,
Feeling a love like thine; but Criseis lo,
For whom thou sighst, will no sweet love allow
Within her stony breast, — at evening, ice, —
Though thou, like snow in fire, mayst melt within a trice.
54
“Would I were safe ashore within that port
Whither my misadventure hasteneth me!
’Twould prove my blessing and a high comfort,
For dying there would end my mortal dree,
Whereas, unknown as yet to all report,
If mine unhappiness my comrades see,
A thousand gibes will fill my life each day —
And more, — I shall be called a blockhead every way.
55
“O aid me, Love, I plead! And thou for whom,
Enchained now more than other knights, I weep,
Vouchsafe some pity for thy lover’s doom,
Who more than life loves thee with ardour deep;
Turn thou thy face’s power to illume
Upon thy knight; grant Love his way to keep,
For in these sighs for thee he holds me strait;
Refuse not kindness to my sad-despairéd state.
56
“Yet if thou must refuse my poor request,
Like vernal bloom I’ll early fade away;
Waiting shall then no more my peace molest
Nor seeing thy high pride my soul dismay;
But should such course aggrieve thee, this behest,
Ready in all to please, I crave today; —
Cry, cruel: ‘Slay thyself, Sir Troilo.’
And I, to give thee pleasaunce, will do even so!”
57
This and full many other pleas he made
Deep-plunged in sighs and weeping, calling out
Her name like one whose love is undismayed
Even in the uttermost of grief and doubt;
But to his plaints he found no mercy stayed;
All were but leaves, blown in the wind about
And lost, none reaching Criseis’ ear;
And thence grew every day his torment and his fear.
CANTO TWO
1
So lasted many moons his pensive mood
Till one day, in his chamber all alone,
A Trojan youth, of courage high imbued
And ancient lineage born, slipped in unknown
And there his friend the woeful prince first viewed
Melted to wretched tears and lying prone
Upon his couch: and “How now, friend,” he cried,
“Doth this our bitter hour so conquering o’er thee ride?”
2
And him the prince quick queried, “Pandaro,
What chance hath led thee here to see me die?
If to our friendship any debt thou owe,
Away with thee! Begone! O let me lie
Disconsolate, for this of truth I know,
Of all my friends thou wouldst to see me die
Be saddened most; and I thrive not in life
So conquered is my strength, so battered by its strife.
3
“Yet do not think it is the siege of Troy
Or any task of arms or any fear
Occasions me my present great annoy;
Mid other cares that one doth least appear.
’Tis other grief that would my life destroy —
That makes me craven neath its wounds severe:
&nbs
p; But what it is, seek not to know, my friend;
‘Twere best I speak it not but hide it to the end.”
4
In Pandaro an instant pity grew
And earnest wish sad Troil’s pain to know;
Whence he at once appealed, “Let friendship true,
As formerly ’twas wont, reveal thy woe
To me, thy friend, lest further ill ensue, —
Wherefore so fain to join the shades below?
It cannot be thou hold it friendly act
To hide from me, thy friend, the cause thou art so racked
5
“Fain would I share with thee this grief and woe
If I can bring no ease to thine annoy,
Because friends must them ever willing show
To share all things, their sorrows and their joy;
That I have loved thee thou dost truly know,
Methinks, in good and ill with fair employ, —
Dost truly know I’d render any feat
Thou might’st require of me or as a friend entreat.”
6
The prince sighed deep before he answer made:
“O Pandar mine, since nothing thee can please
Except thou know what woe hath me dismayed,
I’ll yield and tell thee briefly my disease, —
Not in the hope that through thy proffered aid
I may somehow secure my spirit peace, —
But feeling I must satisfy thy prayer,
To which I know not how to make denial fair.
7
“Love, — gainst whom, if any try defence,
Too soon he’s caught and finds his efforts vain, —
Flames now my heart with such all pleasant sense
I have no pow’r thence to remove his reign
Henceforth; and this now me so sore repents,
As thou canst see, my hand I scarce restrain,
And scarce have checked its thousandth trial
And fervent wish somehow to end my life most vile.
8
“Let this suffice thee, sweet and worthy friend,
To know then these my griefs, which hitherto
I have revealed to none, and God forfend,
If to my love thou’ldst hold thee loyal-true,
That thou disclose my eager amorous end
And fervent wish, lest added ill ensue!
Thou knowst now what I will; go thou, I pray,
And let me fight alone my anxious fears today.”
9
And Pandar answered: “Couldst thou hope to hide
So long from me thy great love’s secret fire?
From me, who would my wits have glad applied
And found some means thy comfort to inspire
And sense of peace?” But Troilo replied,
“Comes aid from thee, whom ever love’s desire
I see tormenting? O thou hapless wight,
Who thinkst with thine own frailty to relieve my plight!”
10
Whereto Pandaro urged: “I know, my lord;
’Tis sooth thou speakst, yet oftentimes ‘twill fall
Who doth to other’s counsel him accord
From venom saves himself and other gall;
And sure it is the blind can ill afford
To take those paths which seeing men appall;
And though no man may for himself prove wise,
He can give others aid when others perils rise.
11
“I too have loved through much despairing hap,
And still I love of my perversity;
And must perforce keep me within the trap
Because I have not loved in secrecy
Like thee. And God my folly wills, mayhap!
But that all-loyal love I’ve given thee,
I bear thee still and will preserve so well
No man shall ever know the secret thou shalt tell.
12
“Rest then in me, my friend, thy trust secure,
And tell me all that causes this thy plight, —
What makes thy life so noxious to endure.
Fear not I shall assume the scorner’s right
To mock thy love, for men that feel most sure
Within their wisdom would all deem it light
To claim love can be wrested from the heart
Ere long-besieging time hath willed it to depart.
13
“Leave then thine anguish, cease thy sighs,
And, reasoning, alleviate thy grief;
So — make thy sufferings in fear arise
And pass, their pain becoming yet more brief;
They who feel love alike make best allies
Whene’er a lover’s seen, ’tis my belief;
And I, as thou too knowst, against my will
Do love, and nothing can allay or soothe my ill! —
14
“Perchance the lovely one that troubles thee
I can e’en to thy pleasure somehow bend;
More gladly thy will satisfied I’d see, —
If so might be, — than mine own pleased, my friend.
Wouldst thou perceive it so, declare to me
Her name whose charms do so much pain portend.
Up, youth! Lie not so prone! Think, thou canst speak
With me as to thyself in trust both firm and meek.”
15
Some time the anxious Troilo refrained,
Breathed deep, — but could not check his bitter sighs,
While shame his countenance with blushes stained, —
Then answered: “Pandar, friend, — true friend and wise, —
Of honest cause my will were best constrained —
I should not speak my love before thy eyes,
For she from whom I trace my grief so sore
I s of thy kin” — And, shame-faced, he could say no more.
16
And thereat Troil on his bed supine
Fell wild with weeping and there hid his face.
To whom good Pandar cried: “O comrade mine,
Should fear so easy over trust gain place
Within thy breast? Cease, craven, to repine,
Lest to thy weeping I my death should trace, —
Should she thou lovest my own sister prove,
Gladly with all my power I’d help thee win her love.
17
“Up then, my friend, and tell me who is she;
Tell me at once that I may see straightway
To thy sweet comfort, sweetest care for me.
In mine own mansion doth this lady stay?
Tell me I pray, whoever she may be
(For I go pond’ring who should be the may),
And I’ll be certain scarce six days shall speed
Ere I shall wrest thee from this grievous state and need.”
18
To these pleas Troilo would answer naught
And every moment closed his lips more tight,
But, as his ears Pandaro’s promise caught,
Within himself he felt his hopes more bright;
And now he yearned to speak, and now he fought
His silence to maintain with all his might,
Ashamed to loose his tongue, — but Pandar urged;
At last he turned; and, weeping, forth his words now surged:
19
“My Pandar, I could wish that I were dead
Rather than thinking of Love’s wound in me;
If by concealing it no pain were bred,
No wrong to thee, I’d still act feigningly;
But more I cannot; and, if thou art led
Wisely as is thy wont, well canst thou see
Love doth not wish that man should love by law
Save that one law which man’s own appetite doth draw.
20
“For lawless Love makes men sometimes desire
Their sisters, girls their brothers wickedly;
Makes dau
ghters love their fathers, and with fire
For sons-in-law fills beldames sans degree,
Making poor wights despite themselves aspire,
For good or ill, to know Love’s ecstasy.
I love your cousin Criseis,” he said,
Mouthing his words, and wept and fell back on his bed.
21
When Pandar now had heard the lady’s name,
At first he laughed, then answered: “Troilo,
By Heaven I beg thee, friend, to change thy game
Of idly weeping, since Love hath loved thee so
Pointing tow’rd such a place thy amorous flame
It could not tow’rd a worthier lady blow.
The may, such beauteous grace is hers and rare,
In all her soul is worthy of thy love, I’d swear.
22
“No lover’s friend was ever worthier,
More affable or sweeter in converse;
No lady could more grateful pleasaunce stir;
And poet could not of a queen rehearse
Virtues more rare than those that dwell in her;
Yea, of a truth they would transcend all verse.
For she is peerless! ne’er a king could hold
His heart in check should she her love to him unfold!
23
“Besides these graces named, another one,
To thee of evil omen, doth my cousin vaunt, —
Lady more chaste than she there liveth none,
And all Love’s charms fall scorned beneath her taunt:
But gainst this virtue I’ll find words to run, —
If other mishap enter not to daunt
Our hopes, — and win thy need. Have patience now
And curb thy ardent love with every act and vow.
24
“Well canst thou see, therefore, that Love hath stirred
Thy passion for one worth thy valiant name;
Stand therefore steadfast, both in act and word;
Expect, too, full success in thy new game,
Which presently on thee will be conferred,
Should not thy weeping its rare price disclaim;
Worthy thou art of her and she of thee,
And I will work the thing with ingenuity.
25
“Think not, my prince, I do not clear discern
That such amours unseemly oft appear
To worthy dames and may some evil turn
On me or her or hers. And much I fear
Lest rashness should us, justly, trouble earn,
Or our fair scheme reach to the vulgar ear,
And Criseis, reputed now sans stain,
Bring scorn on her through Love, revilement and disdain.
26
“But since thy passion is forbidden sway
And chance to act, and must, too, all unknown
Remain to men, it seems to me the way
That one may wisest take is Amor’s own, —