Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  But to arrive no other way is sure,

  Whoe’er attempt. Therefore, I pray, be by,

  O Lady fair, my wishes high and pure;

  Fill with thy grace whatever I demand,

  And bravely I will sing thy praise on every hand.

  3

  To Troil, though his ardour still burned keen,

  It seemed his fortune showed itself more fair;

  He only knew Criseis, pleased, had seen

  And answered with a sweet and lowly air

  What letters he had written her, I ween;

  And often as he saw that lady rare,

  She looked on him with face so soft and bright

  He knew he felt in him the most supreme delight.

  4

  Pandar had gone, as elsewhere I have told,

  Leaving the prince’s lady to her peace,

  And, glad at heart and of his face quite bold,

  He sought the youth he’d left so ill at ease

  Between fair hope and sad plaints manifold,

  When he had gone fair Criseis t’ appease;

  And, seeking for a time now here now there,

  He found him in a temple thinking and in prayer.

  5

  Soon as he came upon him thus in thought,

  He drew him thence apart and gan to say:

  “My friend, so deep with pain my heart was fraught,

  What time I saw thee languishing away

  So cruelly for love, on me was brought

  No small part of thy sorrow that sad day;

  To seek thee comfort I have never ceased,

  Since then; e’en though I have not found thy woe decreased.

  6

  “For thee I have become a go-between,

  For thee mine honour clear I’ve cast away,

  For thee my sister’s breast, that late was clean,

  I’ve made corrupt till in her heart doth play,

  Deep placed, a love for thee; and her, I ween,

  Ere time grows long thou’lt see as fair as day —

  With greater pleasaunce than thou hear’st me speak

  Thou’lt have thy Criseis in thy arms, full meek.

  7

  “But, as God knows, who all things yet doth see,

  And thou thyself, it was a hope full poor

  First sped my efforts and my loyalty,

  Alone, to thee my friend, — made them endure

  Till by my toil the prize I’d won for thee;

  So now, if of thy wished boon thou’ldst make sure

  Nor have base Fortune catch it quick away,

  In all thy love schemes show thee wise, my prince,

  I pray.

  8

  “Thou knowst through Troy town Criseis’ repute

  Is yet most fair and sacred; not a deed

  Of else than good do men to her impute;

  And, now thou hast her in thy hands, take heed, —

  For thou canst take whatever thee may suit,

  Yet if her name she lose, ‘twere evil speed,

  And more than shame to me, her kith and kin,

  Who evermore should guard lest villain’s name I win.

  9

  “Therefore I pray thee now as I can best

  That ‘tween ourselves we keep this business still;

  From Criseis’ heart I have, with happy hest,

  Removed all modest fear and every will

  That checked at thee, and hold it now so stressed

  With speaking of thy true love’s fill

  That quite she loves thee and inclines to do

  Whatever it may please thee to command her to.

  10

  “Yet but a little time, before success

  Thou shalt enjoy complete, and I shall place

  Her in thine arms for thy delight to bless!

  But, ‘fore God, act with such a quiet grace

  That naught escapes thy heart through carelessness;

  O dear my friend, despise not my dull face

  If many times I make my prayer to thee,

  Seeing that what I beg is begged in honesty.”

  11

  O who could tell in verse the joy complete

  Which Trail’s soul, now hearing Pandar, knew?

  Or how, receding far, its pain did fleet,

  The more he spake, away from every view?

  The sighs that he had breathed to riches sweet

  Yielded their place most gently; caitiff rue

  Departed; and his lately tearful face

  Bright new hope did reveal with signs of joyous grace.

  12

  And, as it chances in the new born spring

  That trees and shrubs in leaves and blossoms new

  Smile at the robes the sudden hours bring

  To hide their limbs late nude to wintry view;

  As meadows, hills, and eke the rivers too

  Smile, clothed in green and every flower’s hue;

  So with a newer joy ’twas easy seen

  Troilo smiled and laughed now with a face serene.

  13

  And softly in sweet rapture first he sighed,

  Gazing in glad content at Pandar’s face:

  “Ah, how thou must remember,” then he cried,

  “The tears thou foundst me in — my bitter case,

  When still methought it best my love to hide!

  Ah, how thou must recall that time and place

  Where thy demands and urgent wish to know

  Forced from my woeful breast the reason of my woe!

  14

  “Aware, then, how I tried to keep it hid

  Even from thee, my only friend, although

  To tell it thee no peril did forbid —

  Save that I seemed immodest doing so;

  Think how, when I consent, — as late I did, —

  To tell’t — think how I dread lest others know!

  Forget not how I fear lest men suspect;

  God keep that misadventure from poor me deject!

  15

  “But natheless, by highest Jove I swear,

  The God who heaven and earth rules equally,

  That if in Agamemnon’s hands to fare

  Prove not my evil chance, I swear it thee,

  That were my life not mortal but more rare, —

  Eternal e’en, — thou canst assuréd be

  Thy trust with all my power will be preserved,

  And she who wounds my heart full honestly be served.

  16

  “Full well I wot all thou hast said and done,

  And all thy grace to me I see it clear;

  And that no act of mine, howe’er begun

  Or rendered, could repay thee mine arrear,

  For out of Hell, — and worse, — to Heaven I’m won

  And drawn by thee; so, by our friendship near,

  I beg, take not the villain’s name to thee

  But rather think thou servest friend’s necessity.

  17

  “The name of villain let those wretches claim

  Whom love of gold doth spur to villainy;

  What thou hast done thou didst, sans any blame,

  To draw me from my bitter plaints, I see;

  And from those hostile thoughts that ever came

  To fight and scatter all sweet peace in me —

  Just as ’tis meet that for a friend one do

  When one beholds his fellow overcome with rue.

  18

  “And, that thou mayest fully realize

  The gracious thanks I’d like to yield thee now,

  Know that I have a sister, beauty’s prize,

  Polyxena, whose charms are praised, I vow,

  Scarce less than those of Helen in a wise;

  Open thy heart, seek love of her somehow —

  Or e’en of Helen, my own brother’s wife —

  And, thee to win thy choice, I’ll work with all my life.

  19

  “But, since t
hou hast achieved me so much more

  Than I could beg of thee, see to the end

  My sweet desire, when time fits, I implore;

  To thee I have recourse; all can depend

  Only on thee; in thee my joys, and more —

  My comfort, solace, health, delight — do blend; —

  Yet, an thou bid it not, I’ll do no deed; —

  Be my delight, and thence thou’lt see thy joy proceed.”

  20

  Pandar by Troil’s word was satisfied,

  And both resumed their ordinary care;

  But in each day now Troilo espied

  A hundred days (with her so ill aware)

  And, suffering in them all, could scarce abide

  Those flames of love which all in him did tear;

  So gave to thoughts of love the hours of night

  And with his comrades spent the day in martial fight.

  21

  With matters thus, the time so much desired

  Of those two lovers neared; whence Criseis made

  To summon Pandar and it so transpired

  She showed him all her wish; but Pandar played,

  Grieving that Troilo that day was hired

  With others for some special martial raid

  Or deed of war — was far away from cry,

  “Although ’twas very like he’d come back by and by.”

  22

  This news, the while she heard, proved grief to her,

  And sad she turned; but with most friendly zeal

  Pandar declared he’d find some messenger

  To send the prince (she need make no appeal),

  And, thereupon, with but the briefest stir

  Nor any let, the man had proved him leal

  And Trail found, — who listened with surprise,

  Then hurried back to Troy in blithe and joyous wise.

  23

  And, come to Pandaro, from him he learned

  In full the needful steps that he must take;

  And now impatiently the young prince burned,

  Awaiting night that ever seemed to break

  In flight before his gaze; quiet he turned

  And took his way with Pandaro, his make,

  For that sweet spot where lovely Criseis stood

  Lonely expectant, with fear and subtle dread subdued.

  24

  At length the night fell clouded and obscure,

  As Troil wished, who, gazing full intent,

  Examined all to be the more secure,

  The while he moved, in hope that no event

  Should make his eager love new pain endure

  Or cheat it now when from its great torment

  It seemed it should escape; and soon, — alone —

  Secret — he entered Criseis’ house, now quiet grown;

  25

  And in a secret, safe-removéd place,

  As had been him instructed, stayed in wait;

  Nor seemed his waiting now an evil grace,

  Nor failing yet to see clear, — harsh in fate;

  But often with a sure, courageous face

  He urged within; “My love, ere very late,

  Will come to me, and I’ll be happier then

  Than were I, all alone, the Lord of Earth and Men.”

  26

  Criseis, who his coming well had heard,

  That he might now the better understand

  How ’twas arranged, coughed once and no more stirred;

  Then, lest his waiting wearily expand,

  She gan to speak, with oft a quickened word,

  Till all her maids she’d hastened (well she planned)

  Off to their beds, declaring that such sleep

  Had never fallen on her, — awake she could not keep!

  27

  After that each and all had gone to rest

  And the whole house grown quiet everywhere,

  To Lady Criseis it did first seem best

  Toward Troil’s hiding place in haste to fare;

  Who, as he heard her footsteps thither pressed,

  Rose up and, starting tow’rd her, passed from there

  With joyful face — and mute expectancy

  To be prepared for all the lady might decree.

  28

  And now, a lighted torch within her hand,

  The lady quite alone came down the stair

  And found the prince, with all his ardour fanned,

  Awaiting her; whom, with full courteous air,

  She greeted as she could: “My lord, command

  If aught I did offend thee, hidden there,

  And thy high royal love in any way;

  Or, sweet my love, for God’s sake grant me pardon, pray.”

  29

  And her her Troil answered; “Lady bright,

  Sole hope and good and blessing of my heart,

  Thy face hath so long been before my sight

  A lucent star, so splendid in each part

  And each dear ray of it such glorious light,

  That all my palace seems of poorer art;

  And to ask pardon more is mine than thine.”

  Then he embraced her and they kissed in rapture fine.

  30

  And now, ere they could part from that charmed place,

  With dalliance sweet and eager-joyous play

  They clasped their arms in many a glad embrace;

  A thousand times they kissed in amorous way,

  For in them fire burned of an equal pace,

  And each the other felt was dear as day;

  But, when their greetings ended at the last,

  They climbed the stairs and to an inner chamber passed.

  31

  Long would it need to tell now of their bliss

  And no man could express that rich delight

  They had together when they entered this,

  Free for sweet nuptials and sans hindrance quite

  Save that at Trail’s side fair Criseis

  Trembled a moment and must cry in fright,

  “O Troil, lord and love, when brides are new

  They are abashed to meet, the first night, lovers’ view.”

  32

  To whom the prince then: “Sweet, O sweet my soul,

  Yield that my arms do now thee closelier take

  And have, as Lord Love wills, more perfect toll

  Of love.” And she: “Behold, for thy sweet sake,

  I rid me of all fear and seek my goal

  In thine arms only.” Then courteously her make

  Drew her more close and close in his embrace

  That they might win of Love more high and richer grace.

  33

  O sweet, most sweet and most desiréd night,

  How lavish wert thou to those lovers gay,

  If all the knowledge were made mine of right

  Which all the poets owned, I could not say

  Nor truly yet explain their joyaunce bright;

  But he who knows the favour of Love’s way

  And boons hath had of him, can guess or know

  In part at least the joy that Love to these did show.

  34

  And all night long from one another’s arms

  They stirred not, nor released their sweet embrace;

  Yet still believed, in one another’s arms,

  It could not quite be real, their sweet embrace, —

  They could not be in one another’s arms, —

  But only dreamed they were in sweet embrace;

  And each the other asked with frequent care,

  “Is mine a true embrace? or dream? or art thou there?”

  35

  And so they gazed with such enraptured will

  That neither could from other turn his eyes,

  But each the other cried with voice athrill,

  “My love, is’t true I’m with thee in this wise?”;

  And “Yes, heart of my heart,” each answered still,

  “And
God have thanks for it,” in amorous sighs;

  And then each drew the other in embrace

  And sweetly kissed again the other’s lovely face.

  36

  And oft upon her eyes, for love aglow,

  Troil would press a soft, enraptured kiss,

  Crying, “My heart ye have enflamed so

  With Love’s sweet darts that burning now seems bliss, —

  And, caught, I cannot hide nor find it woe,

  Nor flee, as those are wont who fare amiss;

  Ye hold, and e’er may hold, mine eyes and me

  Meshed in the net of Love’s own sweet intricacy.

  37

  A second time he kissed them, and once more,

  Till in response the lady kissed his eyes;

  Then he o’er all her face and breast did kisses pour;

  And no hour passed without a thousand sighs, —

  Not those that come from souls with anguish sore, —

  But out of reverent souls, which prove them wise,

  Showing thereby the love that’s in the breast;

  Then, sighing o’er, themselves to joy they new addressed.

  38

  Such scenes should make the caitiff misers pause,

  Who so themselves have given all to gold,

  A-counting pence, they reckon love but cause

  For scorn and laughter — and him who loves, too bold;

  Let them but ponder if by any laws

  They can from all their wealth such pleasure hold —

  In any single point — as Love doth give

  To those who joined for his grand venture love and live.

  39

  ’Tis like they’ll say they can and, willing, lie, —

  Calling with many a wanton mock and jest

  “Love is a wretched folly best passed by,”

  Without once seeing that, by Fate’s behest,

  A single hour may come their souls to try

  And they, their gold lost, live thence never blest

  By joy in life or love. God make them sad, —

  And give to lovers all the wealth they might have had!

  40

  But these two lovers, feeling comforted,

  Began together hopefully to speak,

  Telling each other of their pains now fled, —

  Their plaints, their sighs, their anguish cruel — bleak!

  And oft, when such speech had been wholly said,

  Again they would more fervent kisses seek;

  And now, forgetting all their past annoy,

  They took together thus a most delirious joy.

  41

  So here I have no tale to tell of sleep,

  For theirs was all desire the night should last;

  Such pleasure did they from their waking reap

  They could not sate each other while it passed;

  And all they did and said they thought to keep,

  Through such an act of waking, long and fast

  And not to let their fair chance lapse in vain