“But here, with all my heart, I thee beseech,
That never in me thou deeme1 such folly 1judge
As I shall say; me thoughte, by thy speech,
That this which thou me dost for company,1 1friendship
I shoulde ween it were a bawdery;1 1a bawd’s action
1I am not wood, all if I lewed be;1 1I am not mad, though
It is not one, that wot I well, pardie! I be unlearned1
“But he that goes for gold, or for richess,
On such messages, call him 1as thee lust;1 1what you please1
And this that thou dost, call it gentleness,
Compassion, and fellowship, and trust;
Depart it so, for widewhere is wist
How that there is diversity requer’d
Betwixte thinges like, as I have lear’d.
“And that thou know I think it not nor ween,1 1suppose
That this service a shame be or a jape, 1subject for jeering
I have my faire sister Polyxene,
Cassandr’, Helene, or any of the frape;1 1set
Be she never so fair, or well y-shape,
Telle me which thou wilt of ev’ry one,
To have for thine, and let me then alone.”
Then, beseeching Pandarus soon to perform out the great enterprise of crowning his love for Cressida, Troilus bade his friend good night. On the morrow Troilus burned as the fire, for hope and pleasure; yet “he not forgot his wise governance [self- control];”
But in himself with manhood gan restrain
Each rakel1 deed, and each unbridled cheer,2 1rash 2demeanour
That alle those that live, sooth to sayn,
Should not have wist,1 by word or by mannere, 1suspicion
What that he meant, as touching this mattere;
From ev’ry wight as far as is the cloud
He was, so well dissimulate he could.
And all the while that I now devise1 1describe, narrate
This was his life: with all his fulle might,
By day he was in Marte’s high service,
That is to say, in armes as a knight;
And, for the moste part, the longe night
He lay, and thought how that he mighte serve
His lady best, her thank1 for to deserve. 1gratitude
I will not swear, although he laye soft,
That in his thought he n’as somewhat diseas’d;1 1troubled
Nor that he turned on his pillows oft,
And would of that him missed have been seis’d;1 1possessed
But in such case men be not alway pleas’d,
For aught I wot, no more than was he;
That can I deem1 of possibility. 1judge
But certain is, to purpose for to go,
That in this while, as written is in gest,1 1the history of
He saw his lady sometimes, and also these events
She with him spake, when that she 1durst and lest;1 1dared and pleased1
And, by their both advice,1 as was the best, 1consultation
1Appointed full warily1 in this need, 1made careful preparations1
So as they durst, how far they would proceed.
But it was spoken in 1so short a wise, 1so briefly, and always in such
In such await alway, and in such fear, vigilance and fear of being
Lest any wight divinen or devise1 found out by anyone1
Would of their speech, or to it lay an ear,
1That all this world them not so lefe were,1 1they wanted more than
As that Cupido would them grace send anything in the world1
To maken of their speeches right an end.
But thilke little that they spake or wrought,
His wise ghost1 took ay of all such heed, 1spirit
It seemed her he wiste what she thought
Withoute word, so that it was no need
To bid him aught to do, nor aught forbid;
For which she thought that love, all1 came it late, 1although
Of alle joy had open’d her the gate.
Troilus, by his discretion, his secrecy, and his devotion, made ever a deeper lodgment in Cressida’s heart; so that she thanked God twenty thousand times that she had met with a man who, as she felt, “was to her a wall of steel, and shield from ev’ry displeasance;” while Pandarus ever actively fanned the fire. So passed a “time sweet” of tranquil and harmonious love the only drawback being, that the lovers might not often meet, “nor leisure have, their speeches to fulfil.” At last Pandarus found an occasion for bringing them together at his house unknown to anybody, and put his plan in execution.
For he, with great deliberation,
Had ev’ry thing that hereto might avail1 1be of service
Forecast, and put in execution,
And neither left for cost nor for travail;1 1effort
Come if them list, them shoulde nothing fail,
1Nor for to be in aught espied there,
That wiste he an impossible were.1 1he knew it was impossible1
that they could be discovered there1
And dreadeless1 it clear was in the wind 1without doubt
Of ev’ry pie, and every let-game;
Now all is well, for all this world is blind,
In this mattere, bothe fremd1 and tame; 1wild
This timber is all ready for to frame;
Us lacketh naught, but that we weete1 wo’ld 1know
A certain hour in which we come sho’ld.
Troilus had informed his household, that if at any time he was missing, he had gone to worship at a certain temple of Apollo, “and first to see the holy laurel quake, or that the godde spake out of the tree.” So, at the changing of the moon, when “the welkin shope him for to rain,” [when the sky was preparing to rain] Pandarus went to invite his niece to supper; solemnly assuring her that Troilus was out of the town — though all the time he was safely shut up, till midnight, in “a little stew,” whence through a hole he joyously watched the arrival of his mistress and her fair niece Antigone, with half a score of her women. After supper Pandaras did everything to amuse his niece; “he sung, he play’d, he told a tale of Wade;” at last she would take her leave; but
The bente Moone with her hornes pale,
Saturn, and Jove, in Cancer joined were,
That made such a rain from heav’n avail,1 1descend
That ev’ry manner woman that was there
Had of this smoky rain a very fear;
At which Pandarus laugh’d, and saide then
“Now were it time a lady to go hen!”1 1hence
He therefore presses Cressida to remain all night; she complies with a good grace; and after the sleeping cup has gone round, all retire to their chambers — Cressida, that she may not be disturbed by the rain and thunder, being lodged in the “inner closet” of Pandarus, who, to lull suspicion, occupies the outer chamber, his niece’s women sleeping in the intermediate apartment. When all is quiet, Pandarus liberates Troilus, and by a secret passage brings him to the chamber of Cressida; then, going forward alone to his niece, after calming her fears of discovery, he tells her that her lover has “through a gutter, by a privy went,” [a secret passage] come to his house in all this rain, mad with grief because a friend has told him that she loves Horastes. Suddenly cold about her heart, Cressida promises that on the morrow she will reassure her lover; but Pandarus scouts the notion of delay, laughs to scorn her proposal to send her ring in pledge of her truth, and finally, by pitiable accounts of Troilus’ grief, induces her to receive him and reassure him at once with her own lips.
This Troilus full soon on knees him set,
Full soberly, right by her bedde’s head,
And in his beste wise his lady gret1 1greeted
But Lord! how she wax’d suddenly all red,
And thought anon how that she would be dead;
She coulde not one word aright out bring,
So suddenly for his sudden coming.
Cressida, though
thinking that her servant and her knight should not have doubted her truth, yet sought to remove his jealousy, and offered to submit to any ordeal or oath he might impose; then, weeping, she covered her face, and lay silent. “But now,” exclaims the poet —
But now help, God, to quenchen all this sorrow!
So hope I that he shall, for he best may;
For I have seen, of a full misty morrow,1 1morn
Followen oft a merry summer’s day,
And after winter cometh greene May;
Folk see all day, and eke men read in stories,
That after sharpe stoures1 be victories. 1conflicts, struggles
Believing his mistress to be angry, Troilus felt the cramp of death seize on his heart, “and down he fell all suddenly in swoon.” Pandarus “into bed him cast,” and called on his niece to pull out the thorn that stuck in his heart, by promising that she would “all forgive.” She whispered in his ear the assurance that she was not wroth; and at last, under her caresses, he recovered consciousness, to find her arm laid over him, to hear the assurance of her forgiveness, and receive her frequent kisses. Fresh vows and explanations passed; and Cressida implored forgiveness of “her own sweet heart,” for the pain she had caused him. Surprised with sudden bliss, Troilus put all in God’s hand, and strained his lady fast in his arms. “What might or may the seely [innocent] larke say, when that the sperhawk [sparrowhawk] hath him in his foot?”
Cressida, which that felt her thus y-take,
As write clerkes in their bookes old,
Right as an aspen leaf began to quake,
When she him felt her in his armes fold;
But Troilus, all 1whole of cares cold,1 1cured of painful sorrows1
Gan thanke then the blissful goddes seven.
Thus sundry paines bringe folk to heaven.
This Troilus her gan in armes strain,
And said, “O sweet, as ever may I go’n,1 1prosper
Now be ye caught, now here is but we twain,
Now yielde you, for other boot1 is none.” 1remedy
To that Cresside answered thus anon,
“N’ had I ere now, my sweete hearte dear,
1Been yolden,1 y-wis, I were now not here!” 1yielded myself1
O sooth is said, that healed for to be
Of a fever, or other great sickness,
Men muste drink, as we may often see,
Full bitter drink; and for to have gladness
Men drinken often pain and great distress!
I mean it here, as for this adventure,
That thorough pain hath founden all his cure.
And now sweetnesse seemeth far more sweet,
That bitterness assayed1 was beforn; 1tasted
For out of woe in blisse now they fleet,1 1float, swim
None such they felte since that they were born;
Now is it better than both two were lorn!
For love of God, take ev’ry woman heed
To worke thus, if it come to the need!
Cresside, all quit from ev’ry dread and teen,1 1pain
As she that juste cause had him to trust,
Made him such feast, it joy was for to see’n,
When she his truth and 1intent cleane wist;1 1knew the purity
And as about a tree, with many a twist, of his purpose1
1Bitrent and writhen1 is the sweet woodbind, 1plaited and wreathed1
Gan each of them in armes other wind.1 1embrace, encircle
And as the 1new abashed1 nightingale, 1newly-arrived and timid1
That stinteth,1 first when she beginneth sing, 1stops
When that she heareth any 1herde’s tale,1 1the talking of a shepherd1
Or in the hedges any wight stirring;
And, after, sicker1 out her voice doth ring; 1confidently
Right so Cressida, when 1her dreade stent,1 1her doubt ceased1
Open’d her heart, and told him her intent.1 1mind
And might as he that sees his death y-shapen,1 1prepared
And dien must, 1in aught that he may guess,1 1for all he can tell1
And suddenly 1rescouse doth him escapen,1 1he is rescued and escapes1
And from his death is brought 1in sickerness;1 1to safety1
For all the world, in such present gladness
Was Troilus, and had his lady sweet;
With worse hap God let us never meet!
Her armes small, her straighte back and soft,
Her sides longe, fleshly, smooth, and white,
He gan to stroke; and good thrift1 bade full oft 1blessing
On her snow-white throat, her breastes round and lite;1 1small
Thus in this heaven he gan him delight,
And therewithal a thousand times her kist,
That what to do for joy 1unneth he wist.1 1he hardly knew1
The lovers exchanged vows, and kisses, and embraces, and speeches of exalted love, and rings; Cressida gave to Troilus a brooch of gold and azure, “in which a ruby set was like a heart;” and the too short night passed.
“When that the cock, commune astrologer,
Gan on his breast to beat, and after crow,
And Lucifer, the daye’s messenger,
Gan for to rise, and out his beames throw;
And eastward rose, to him that could it know,
Fortuna Major, then anon Cresseide,
With hearte sore, to Troilus thus said:
“My hearte’s life, my trust, and my pleasance!
That I was born, alas! that me is woe,
That day of us must make disseverance!
For time it is to rise, and hence to go,
Or else I am but lost for evermo’.
O Night! alas! why n’ilt thou o’er us hove,1 1hover
As long as when Alcmena lay by Jove?
“O blacke Night! as folk in bookes read
That shapen1 art by God, this world to hide, 1appointed
At certain times, with thy darke weed,1 1robe
That under it men might in rest abide,
Well oughte beastes plain, and folke chide,
That where as Day with labour would us brest,1 1burst, overcome
There thou right flee’st, and deignest1 not us rest.1 1grantest
“Thou dost, alas! so shortly thine office,1 1duty
Thou rakel1 Night! that God, maker of kind, 1rash, hasty
Thee for thy haste and thine unkinde vice,
So fast ay to our hemisphere bind,
That never more under the ground thou wind;1 1turn, revolve
For through thy rakel hieing1 out of Troy 1hasting
Have I forgone1 thus hastily my joy!” 1lost
This Troilus, that with these wordes felt,
As thought him then, for piteous distress,
The bloody teares from his hearte melt,
As he that never yet such heaviness
Assayed had out of so great gladness,
Gan therewithal Cresside, his lady dear,
In armes strain, and said in this mannere:
“O cruel Day! accuser of the joy
That Night and Love have stol’n, and 1fast y-wrien!1 1closely
Accursed be thy coming into Troy! concealed1
For ev’ry bow’r1 hath one of thy bright eyen: 1chamber
Envious Day! Why list thee to espyen?
What hast thou lost? Why seekest thou this place?
There God thy light so quenche, for his grace!
“Alas! what have these lovers thee aguilt?1 1offended, sinned against
Dispiteous1 Day, thine be the pains of hell! 1cruel, spiteful
For many a lover hast thou slain, and wilt;
Thy peering in will nowhere let them dwell:
What! proff’rest thou thy light here for to sell?
Go sell it them that smalle seales grave!1 1cut devices on
We will thee not, us needs no day to have.”
And eke the Sunne, Titan, gan he chide,
And said, “O fool! well may me
n thee despise!
That hast the Dawning all night thee beside,
And suff’rest her so soon up from thee rise,
For to disease1 us lovers in this wise! 1annoy
What! hold1 thy bed, both thou, and eke thy Morrow! 1keep
I bidde1 God so give you bothe sorrow!” 1pray
The lovers part with many sighs and protestations of unswerving and undying love; Cressida responding to the vows of Troilus with the assurance —
“That first shall Phoebus1 falle from his sphere, 1the sun
And heaven’s eagle be the dove’s fere,
And ev’ry rock out of his place start,
Ere Troilus out of Cressida’s heart.”
When Pandarus visits Troilus in his palace later in the day, he warns him not to mar his bliss by any fault of his own:
“For, of Fortune’s sharp adversity,
The worste kind of infortune is this,
A man to have been in prosperity,
And it remember when it passed is.
Thou art wise enough; forthy,1” do not amiss; 1therefore
Be not too rakel,1 though thou sitte warm; 1rash, over-hasty
For if thou be, certain it will thee harm.
“Thou art at ease, and hold thee well therein;
For, all so sure as red is ev’ry fire,
As great a craft is to keep weal as win;
Bridle alway thy speech and thy desire,
For worldly joy holds not but by a wire;
That proveth well, it breaks all day so oft,
Forthy need is to worke with it soft.”
Troilus sedulously observes the counsel; and the lovers have many renewals of their pleasure, and of their bitter chidings of the Day. The effects of love on Troilus are altogether refining and ennobling; as may be inferred from the song which he sung often to Pandarus:
The Second Song of Troilus.
“Love, that of Earth and Sea hath governance!
Love, that his hestes1 hath in Heaven high! 1commandments
Love, that with a right wholesome alliance
Holds people joined, as him list them guy!1 1guide
Love, that knitteth law and company,
And couples doth in virtue for to dwell,
Bind this accord, that I have told, and tell!
“That the worlde, with faith which that is stable,
Diverseth so, his 1stoundes according;1 1according to its seasons1
That elementes, that be discordable,1 1discordant
Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 424
