Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  But natheless, might I do yet gladness

  To any lover, or any love avail,1 1advance

  Have 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 adversity

  That others suffer; think how sometime ye

  Founde how Love durste you displease;

  Or elles ye have won it with great ease.

  And pray for them that been in the case

  Of Troilus, as ye may after hear,

  That Love them bring in heaven to solace;1 1delight, comfort

  And for me pray also, that God so dear

  May give me might to show, in some mannere,

  Such pain or woe as Love’s folk endure,

  In Troilus’ 1unseely adventure1 1unhappy fortune1

  And pray for them that eke be despair’d

  In love, that never will recover’d be;

  And eke for them that falsely be appair’d1 1slandered

  Through wicked tongues, be it he or she:

  Or thus bid1 God, for his benignity, 1pray

  To grant them soon out of this world to pace,1 1pass, go

  That be despaired of their love’s grace.

  And bid also for them that be at ease

  In love, that God them grant perseverance,

  And send them might their loves so to please,

  That it to them be 1worship and pleasance;1 1honour and pleasure1

  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,1 1attention

  For I will now go straight to my mattere,

  In which ye shall the double sorrow hear

  Of 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, a great divine,” named Calchas; who, through the oracle of Apollo, knew that Troy should be destroyed. He stole away secretly to the Greek camp, where he was gladly received, and honoured for his skill in divining, of which the besiegers hoped to make use. Within the city there was great anger at the treason of Calchas; and the people declared that he and all his kin were worthy to be burnt. His daughter, whom he had left in the city, a widow and alone, was in great fear for her life.

  Cressida was this lady’s name aright;

  1As to my doom,1 in alle Troy city 1in my judgment1

  So fair was none, for over ev’ry wight

  So 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,” she appealed for protection to Hector; who, “piteous of nature,” and touched by her sorrow and her beauty, assured her of safety, so long as she pleased to dwell in Troy. The siege went on; but they of Troy did not neglect the honour and worship of their deities; most of all of “the relic hight Palladion, that was their trust aboven ev’ry one.” In April, “when clothed is the mead with newe green, of jolly Ver [Spring] the prime,” the Trojans went to hold the festival of Palladion — crowding to the 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;1 1matchless

  Her goodly looking gladded all the press;1 1crowd

  Was never seen thing to be praised derre,1 1dearer, more worthy

  Nor under blacke cloud so bright a sterre,1 1star

  As she was, as they saiden, ev’ry one

  That her behelden in her blacke weed;1 1garment

  And yet she stood, full low and still, alone,

  Behind all other folk, 1in little brede,1 1inconspicuously1

  And nigh the door, ay 1under shame’s drede;1 1for dread of shame1

  Simple of bearing, debonair1 of cheer, 1gracious

  With a full sure1 looking and mannere. 1assured

  Dan Troilus, as he was wont to guide

  His younge knightes, led them up and down

  In that large temple upon ev’ry side,

  Beholding ay the ladies of the town;

  Now here, now there, for no devotioun

  Had he to none, to 1reave him1 his rest, 1deprive him of1

  But gan to 1praise and lacke whom him lest;1 1praise and disparage

  whom he pleased1

  And in his walk full fast he gan to wait1 1watch, observe

  If knight or squier of his company

  Gan for to sigh, or let his eyen bait1 1feed

  On any woman that he could espy;

  Then he would smile, and hold it a folly,

  And say him thus: “Ah, Lord, she sleepeth soft

  For love of thee, when as thou turnest oft.

  “I have heard told, pardie, of your living,

  Ye lovers, and your lewed1 observance, 1ignorant, foolish

  And what a labour folk have in winning

  Of love, and in it keeping with doubtance;1 1doubt

  And when your prey is lost, woe and penance;1 1suffering

  Oh, 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 that despite, and, showing that his bow was not broken, “hit him at the 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 1of without;1 1from beyond the walls1

  And 1upon cas1 befell, that through the rout1 1by chance1 1crowd

  His eye pierced, and so deep it went,

  Till on Cresside it smote, and there it stent;1 1stayed

  And suddenly wax’d wonder sore astoned,1 1amazed

  And gan her bet1 behold in busy wise: 1better

  “Oh, very god!” thought he; “where hast thou woned1 1dwelt

  That art so fair and goodly to devise?1 1describe

  Therewith his heart began to spread and rise;

  And soft he sighed, lest men might him hear,

  And caught again his former 1playing cheer.1 1jesting demeanour1

  1She was not with the least of her stature,1 1she was tall1

  But all her limbes so well answering

  Were to womanhood, that creature

  Was never lesse mannish in seeming.

  And eke 1the pure wise of her moving1 1by very the way

  She showed well, that men might in her guess she moved1

  Honour, estate,1 and womanly nobless. 1dignity

  Then Troilus right wonder well withal

  Began to like her moving and her cheer,1 1countenance

  Which somedeal dainous1 was, for she let fall 1disdainful

  Her look a little aside, in such mannere

  Ascaunce1 “What! may I not stande here?” 1as if to say

  And after that 1her looking gan she light,1 1her expression became

  That never thought him see so good a sight. more pleasant1

  And of her look in him there gan to quicken

  So great desire, and strong affection,

  That in his hearte’s bottom gan to sticken

  Of her the fix’d and deep impression;

  And though he erst1 had pored2 up and down, 1previously 2looked

  Then was he glad his hornes in to shrink;

  Unnethes1 wist he how to look or wink. 1scarcely

  Lo! he that held himselfe so cunning, />
  And scorned them that Love’s paines drien,1 1suffer

  Was full unware that love had his dwelling

  Within the subtile streames1 of her eyen; 1rays, glances

  That 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 1cheere made,1 nor worde told; 1showed by his countenance1

  But from afar, 1his manner for to hold,1 1to observe due courtesy1

  On other things sometimes his look he cast,

  And eft1 on her, while that the service last.2 1again 2lasted

  And after this, not fully all awhaped,1 1daunted

  Out of the temple all easily be went,

  Repenting him that ever he had japed1 1jested

  Of Love’s folk, lest fully the descent

  Of 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 and jest at Love’s servants and their pains; but by and by he has to dismiss his attendants, feigning “other busy needs.” Then, alone in his chamber, he begins to groan and sigh, and call up again Cressida’s form as he saw her in the temple— “making a mirror of his mind, in which he saw all wholly her figure.” He thinks no travail or sorrow too high a price for the love of such a goodly woman; and, “full unadvised of his woe coming,”

  Thus took he purpose Love’s craft to sue,1 1follow

  And thought that he would work all privily,

  First for to hide his desire all 1in mew1 1in a cage, secretly

  From every wight y-born, all utterly,

  1But he might aught recover’d be thereby;1 1unless he gained by it1

  Rememb’ring him, that love 1too wide y-blow1 1too much spoken of1

  Yields bitter fruit, although sweet seed be sow.

  And, over all this, muche more he thought

  What thing to speak, and what to holden in;

  And what to arten1 her to love, he sought; 1constrain

  And on a song anon right to begin,

  And gan loud on his sorrow for to win;1 1overcome

  For with good hope he gan thus to assent1 1resolve

  Cressida for to love, and not repent.

  The Song of Troilus.

  “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 me

  Whence ev’ry torment and adversity

  That comes of love 1may to me savoury think:1 1seem acceptable to me1

  For more I thirst the more that I drink.

  “And if I 1at mine owen luste bren1 1burn by my own will1

  From whence cometh my wailing and my plaint?

  If maugre me, 1whereto plain I1 then? 1to what avail do I complain?1

  I wot ner1 why, unweary, that I faint. 1neither

  O quicke death! O sweete harm so quaint!1 1strange

  How may I see in me such quantity,

  But if that I consent that so it be?

  “And if that I consent, I wrongfully

  Complain 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 he yet knew not whether she was woman or goddess — Troilus, in spite of his royal blood, became the very slave of love. He set at naught every other charge, but to gaze on her as often as he could; thinking so to appease his hot fire, which thereby only burned the hotter. He wrought marvellous feats of arms against the Greeks, that she might like him the better for his renown; then love deprived him of sleep, and made his food his foe; till he had to “borrow a title of other sickness,” that men might not know he was consumed with love. Meantime, Cressida gave no sign that she heeded his devotion, or even knew of it; and he was now consumed with a new fear — lest she loved some other man. Bewailing his sad lot — ensnared, exposed to the scorn of those whose love he had ridiculed, wishing himself arrived at the port of death, and praying ever that his lady might glad him with some kind look — Troilus is surprised in his chamber by his friend Pandarus, the uncle of Cressida. Pandarus, seeking to divert his sorrow by making him angry, jeeringly asks whether remorse of conscience, or devotion, or fear of the Greeks, has caused all this ado. Troilus pitifully beseeches his friend to leave him to die alone, for die he must, from a cause which he must keep hidden; but Pandarus argues against Troilus’ cruelty in hiding from a friend such a sorrow, and Troilus at last confesses that his malady is love. Pandarus suggests that the beloved object may be such that his counsel might advance his friend’s desires; but Troilus scouts the suggestion, saying that Pandarus could never govern himself in love.

  “Yea, Troilus, hearken to me,” quoth Pandare,

  “Though I be nice;1 it happens often so, 1foolish

  That one that access1 doth full evil fare, 1in an access of fever

  By good counsel can keep his friend therefro’.

  I have my selfe seen a blind man go

  Where 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,1 1erred, failed

  Eschew thou that, for such thing to thee school1 is. 1schooling, lesson

  Thus 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 know To 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, 1more for other seemeth,1 1its quality is made As men may see; and so the wise man deemeth.” more obvious by the contrast1 Troilus, however, still begs his friend to leave him to mourn in peace, for all his proverbs can avail nothing. But Pandarus insists on plying the lover with wise saws, arguments, reproaches; hints that, if he should die of love, his lady may impute his death to fear of the Greeks; and finally induces Troilus to admit that the well of all his woe, his sweetest foe, is called Cressida. Pandarus breaks into praises of the lady, and congratulations of his friend for so well fixing his heart; he makes Troilus utter a formal confession of his sin in jesting at lovers and bids him think well that she of whom rises all his woe, hereafter may his comfort be also.

  “For thilke1 ground, that bears the weedes wick’ 1that same

  Bears eke the wholesome herbes, and full oft

  Next to the foule nettle, rough and thick,

  The lily waxeth,1 white, and smooth, and soft; 1grows

  And next the valley is the hill aloft,

  And next the darke night is the glad morrow,

  And also joy is next the fine1 of sorrow.” 1end, border

  Pandarus holds out to Troilus good hope of achieving his desire; and tells him that, since he has been converted from his wicked rebellion against Love, he shall be made the best post of all Love’s law, and most grieve Love’s enemies. Troilus gives utterance to a hint of fear; but he is silenced by Pandarus with another proverb— “Thou hast full great care, lest that the carl should fall out of the moon.” Then the lovesick youth breaks into a joyous boast that some of the Greeks shall smart; he mounts his horse, and plays the lion in the field; while Pandarus retires to consider how he may best re
commend to his niece the suit of Troilus.

  THE SECOND BOOK.

  IN THE PROEM to the Second Book, the poet hails the clear weather that enables him to sail out of those black waves in which his boat so laboured that he could scarcely steer — that is, “the tempestuous matter of despair, that Troilus was in; but now of hope the kalendes begin.” He invokes the aid of Clio; excuses himself to every lover for what may be found amiss in a book which he only translates; and, obviating any lover’s objection to the way in which Troilus obtained his lady’s grace - - through Pandarus’ mediation — says it seems to him no wonderful thing:

  “For ev’ry wighte that to Rome went

  Held not one path, nor alway one mannere;

  Eke in some lands were all the game y-shent

  If that men far’d in love as men do here,

  As thus, in open dealing and in cheer,

  In visiting, in form, or saying their saws;1 1speeches

  For thus men say: Each country hath its laws.

  “Eke scarcely be there in this place three

  That have in love done or said 1like in all;”1 1alike in all respects1

  And so that which the poem relates may not please the reader — but it actually was done, or it shall yet be done. The Book sets out with the visit of Pandarus to Cressida: —

  In May, that mother is of monthes glade,1 1glad

  When all the freshe flowers, green and red,

  Be quick1 again, that winter deade made, 1alive

  And full of balm is floating ev’ry mead;

  When Phoebus doth his brighte beames spread

  Right in the white Bull, so it betid1 1happened

  As I shall sing, on Maye’s day the thrid,

  That Pandarus, for all his wise speech,

  Felt eke his part of Love’s shottes keen,

  That, could he ne’er so well of Love preach,

  It made yet his hue all day full green;1 1pale

  So 1shope it,1 that him fell that day a teen1 1it happened1 1access

  In love, for which full woe to bed he went,

  And made ere it were day full many a went.1 1turning

  The swallow Progne, with a sorrowful lay,

  When morrow came, gan make her waimenting,1 1lamenting

  Why she foshapen1 was; and ever lay 1transformed

  Pandare a-bed, half in a slumbering,

  Till she so nigh him made her chittering,

  How Tereus gan forth her sister take,

  That with the noise of her he did awake,