Holden a bond perpetually during;
That Phoebus may his rosy day forth bring;
And that the Moon hath lordship o’er the night; —
All this doth Love, ay heried1 be his might! 1praised
“That the sea, which that greedy is to flowen,
Constraineth to a certain ende1 so 1limit
His floodes, that so fiercely they not growen
To drenchen1 earth and all for evermo’; 1drown
And if that Love aught let his bridle go,
All that now loves asunder shoulde leap,
And lost were all that Love holds now 1to heap.1 1together 1
“So woulde God, that author is of kind,
That with his bond Love of his virtue list
To cherish heartes, and all fast to bind,
That from his bond no wight the way out wist!
And heartes cold, them would I that he twist,1 1turned
To make them love; and that him list ay rue1 1have pity
On heartes sore, and keep them that be true.”
But Troilus’ love had higher fruits than singing:
In alle needes for the towne’s werre1 1war
He was, and ay the first in armes dight,1 1equipped, prepared
And certainly, but if that bookes err,
Save Hector, most y-dread1 of any wight; 1dreaded
And this increase of hardiness1 and might 1courage
Came him of love, his lady’s grace to win,
That altered his spirit so within.
In time of truce, a-hawking would he ride,
Or elles hunt the boare, bear, lioun;
The smalle beastes let he go beside;
And when he came riding into the town,
Full oft his lady, from her window down,
As fresh as falcon coming out of mew,1 1cage
Full ready was him goodly to salue.1 1salute
And most of love and virtue was his speech,
And 1in despite he had all wretchedness1 1he held in scorn all
And doubtless no need was him to beseech despicable actions1
To honour them that hadde worthiness,
And ease them that weren in distress;
And glad was he, if any wight well far’d,
That lover was, when he it wist or heard.
For he held every man lost unless he were in Love’s service; and, so did the power of Love work within him, that he was ay [always] humble and benign, and “pride, envy, ire, and avarice, he gan to flee, and ev’ry other vice.”
THE FOURTH BOOK
A BRIEF PROEM to the Fourth Book prepares us for the treachery of Fortune to Troilus; from whom she turned away her bright face, and took of him no heed, “and cast him clean out of his lady’s grace, and on her wheel she set up Diomede.” Then the narrative describes a skirmish in which the Trojans were worsted, and Antenor, with many of less note, remained in the hands of the Greeks. A truce was proclaimed for the exchange of prisoners; and as soon as Calchas heard the news, he came to the assembly of the Greeks, to “bid a boon.” Having gained audience, he reminded the besiegers how he had come from Troy to aid and encourage them in their enterprise; willing to lose all that he had in the city, except his daughter Cressida, whom he bitterly reproached himself for leaving behind. And now, with streaming tears and pitiful prayer, he besought them to exchange Antenor for Cressida; assuring them that the day was at hand when they should have both town and people. The soothsayer’s petition was granted; and the ambassadors charged to negotiate the exchange, entering the city, told their errand to King Priam and his parliament.
This Troilus was present in the place
When asked was for Antenor Cresside;
For which to change soon began his face,
As he that with the wordes well nigh died;
But natheless he no word to it seid;1 1said
Lest men should his affection espy,
With manne’s heart he gan his sorrows drie;1 1endure
And, full of anguish and of grisly dread,
Abode what other lords would to it say,
And if they woulde grant, — as God forbid! —
Th’exchange of her, then thought he thinges tway:1 1two
First, for to save her honour; and what way
He mighte best th’exchange of her withstand;
This cast he then how all this mighte stand.
Love made him alle 1prest to do her bide,1 1eager to make her stay1
And rather die than that she shoulde go;
But Reason said him, on the other side,
“Without th’assent of her, do thou not so,
Lest for thy worke she would be thy foe;
And say, that through thy meddling is y-blow1 1divulged, blown abroad
Your bothe love, where it was 1erst unknow.”1 1previously unknown1
For which he gan deliberate for the best,
That though the lordes woulde that she went,
He woulde suffer them grant what 1them lest,1 1they pleased1
And tell his lady first what that they meant;
And, when that she had told him her intent,
Thereafter would he worken all so blive,1 1speedily
Though all the world against it woulde strive.
Hector, which that full well the Greekes heard,
For Antenor how they would have Cresseide,
Gan it withstand, and soberly answer’d;
“Sirs, she is no prisoner,” he said;
“I know not on you who this charge laid;
But, for my part, ye may well soon him tell,
We use1 here no women for to sell.” 1are accustomed
The noise of the people then upstart at once,
As breme1 as blaze of straw y-set on fire 1violent, furious
For Infortune1 woulde for the nonce 1Misfortune
They shoulde their confusion desire
“Hector,” quoth they, “what ghost1 may you inspire 1spirit
This woman thus to shield, and 1do us1 lose 1cause us to1
Dan Antenor? — a wrong way now ye choose, —
“That is so wise, and eke so bold baroun;
And we have need of folk, as men may see
He eke is one the greatest of this town;
O Hector! lette such fantasies be!
O King Priam!” quoth they, “lo! thus say we,
That all our will is to forego Cresseide;”
And to deliver Antenor they pray’d.
Though Hector often prayed them “nay,” it was resolved that Cressida should be given up for Antenor; then the parliament dispersed. Troilus hastened home to his chamber, shut himself up alone, and threw himself on his bed.
And as in winter leaves be bereft,
Each after other, till the tree be bare,
So that there is but bark and branch y-left,
Lay Troilus, bereft of each welfare,
Y-bounden in the blacke bark of care,
Disposed 1wood out of his wit to braid,1 1to go out of his senses1
1So sore him sat1 the changing of Cresseide. 1so ill did he bear1
He rose him up, and ev’ry door he shet,1 1shut
And window eke; and then this sorrowful man
Upon his bedde’s side adown him set,
Full like a dead image, pale and wan,
And in his breast the heaped woe began
Out burst, and he to worken in this wise,
In his woodness,1 as I shall you devise.2 1madness 2relate
Right as the wilde bull begins to spring,
Now here, now there, y-darted1 to the heart, 1pierced with a dart
And of his death roareth in complaining;
Right so gan he about the chamber start,
Smiting his breast aye with his fistes smart;1 1painfully, cruelly
His head to the wall, his body to the ground,
Full oft he swapt,1 himselfe to confound. 1struck, dashed
His eyen then, for pity of his heart,
/>
Out streameden as swifte welles1 tway; 1fountains
The highe sobbes of his sorrow’s smart
His speech him reft; unnethes1 might he say, 1scarcely
“O Death, alas! 1why n’ilt thou do me dey?1 1why will you not
Accursed be that day which that Nature make me die?1
Shope1 me to be a living creature!” 1shaped
Bitterly reviling Fortune, and calling on Love to explain why his happiness with Cressicla should be thus repealed, Troilus declares that, while he lives, he will bewail his misfortune in solitude, and will never see it shine or rain, but will end his sorrowful life in darkness, and die in distress.
“O weary ghost, that errest to and fro!
Why n’ilt1 thou fly out of the woefulest 1wilt not
Body that ever might on grounde go?
O soule, lurking in this woeful nest!
Flee forth out of my heart, and let it brest,1 1burst
And follow alway Cresside, thy lady dear!
Thy righte place is now no longer here.
“O woeful eyen two! since your disport1 1delight
Was all to see Cressida’s eyen bright,
What shall ye do, but, for my discomfort,
Stande for naught, and weepen out your sight,
Since she is quench’d, that wont was you to light?
In vain, from this forth, have I eyen tway
Y-formed, since your virtue is away!
“O my Cresside! O lady sovereign
Of thilke1 woeful soule that now cryeth! 1this
Who shall now give comfort to thy pain?
Alas! no wight; but, when my hearte dieth,
My spirit, which that so unto you hieth,1 1hasteneth
Receive 1in gree,1 for that shall ay you serve; 1with favour1
1Forthy no force is1 though the body sterve.1 1therefore no matter1
1die
“O ye lovers, that high upon the wheel
Be set of Fortune, in good adventure,
God lene1 that ye find ay2 love of steel, 1grant 2always
And longe may your life in joy endure!
But when ye come by my sepulture,1 1sepulchre
Remember that your fellow resteth there;
For I lov’d eke, though I unworthy were.
“O old, unwholesome, and mislived man,
Calchas I mean, alas! what ailed thee
To be a Greek, since thou wert born Trojan?
O Calchas! which that will my bane1 be, 1destruction
In cursed time wert thou born for me!
As woulde blissful Jove, for his joy,
That I thee hadde where I would in Troy!”
Soon Troilus, through excess of grief, fell into a trance; in which he was found by Pandarus, who had gone almost distracted at the news that Cressida was to be exchanged for Antenor. At his friend’s arrival, Troilus “gan as the snow against the sun to melt;” the two mingled their tears a while; then Pandarus strove to comfort the woeful lover. He admitted that never had a stranger ruin than this been wrought by Fortune:
“But tell me this, why thou art now so mad
To sorrow thus? Why li’st thou in this wise,
Since thy desire all wholly hast thou had,
So that by right it ought enough suffice?
But I, that never felt in my service
A friendly cheer or looking of an eye,
Let me thus weep and wail until I die.
“And over all this, as thou well wost1 thy selve, 1knowest
This town is full of ladies all about,
And, 1to my doom,1 fairer than suche twelve 1in my judgment1
As ever she was, shall I find in some rout,1 1company
Yea! one or two, withouten any doubt:
Forthy1 be glad, mine owen deare brother! 1therefore
If she be lost, we shall recover another.
“What! God forbid alway that each pleasance
In one thing were, and in none other wight;
If one can sing, another can well dance;
If this be goodly, she is glad and light;
And this is fair, and that can good aright;
Each for his virtue holden is full dear,
Both heroner, and falcon for rivere.
“And eke as writ Zausis, that was full wise,
The newe love out chaseth oft the old,
And upon new case lieth new advice;
Think eke thy life to save thou art hold;1 1bound
Such fire 1by process shall of kinde cold;1 1shall grow cold by
For, since it is but casual pleasance, process of nature1
Some case1 shall put it out of remembrance. 1chance
“For, all so sure as day comes after night,
The newe love, labour, or other woe,
Or elles seldom seeing of a wight,
Do old affections all 1over go;1 1overcome1
And for thy part, thou shalt have one of tho1 1those
T’abridge with thy bitter paine’s smart;
Absence of her shall drive her out of heart.”
These wordes said he 1for the nones all,1 1only for the nonce1
To help his friend, lest he for sorrow died;
For, doubteless, to do his woe to fall,1 1make his woe subside1
He raughte1 not what unthrift2 that he said; 1cared 2folly
But Troilus, that nigh for sorrow died,
Took little heed of all that ever he meant;
One ear it heard, at th’other out it went.
But, at the last, he answer’d and said,
“Friend, This leachcraft, or y-healed thus to be,
Were well sitting1 if that I were a fiend, 1recked
To traisen1 her that true is unto me: 1betray
I pray God, let this counsel never the,1 1thrive
But do me rather sterve1 anon right here, 1die
Ere I thus do, as thou me wouldest lear!”1 1teach
Troilus protests that his lady shall have him wholly hers till death; and, debating the counsels of his friend, declares that even if he would, he could not love another. Then he points out the folly of not lamenting the loss of Cressida because she had been his in ease and felicity — while Pandarus himself, though he thought it so light to change to and fro in love, had not done busily his might to change her that wrought him all the woe of his unprosperous suit.
“If thou hast had in love ay yet mischance,
And canst it not out of thine hearte drive,
I that lived in lust1 and in pleasance 1delight
With her, as much as creature alive,
How should I that forget, and that so blive?1 1quickly
O where hast thou been so long hid in mew,1 1cage
That canst so well and formally argue!”
The lover condemns the whole discourse of his friend as unworthy, and calls on Death, the ender of all sorrows, to come to him and quench his heart with his cold stroke. Then he distils anew in tears, “as liquor out of alembic;” and Pandarus is silent for a while, till he bethinks him to recommend to Troilus the carrying off of Cressida. “Art thou in Troy, and hast no hardiment [daring, boldness] to take a woman which that loveth thee?” But Troilus reminds his counsellor that all the war had come from the ravishing of a woman by might (the abduction of Helen by Paris); and that it would not beseem him to withstand his father’s grant, since the lady was to be changed for the town’s good. He has dismissed the thought of asking Cressida from his father, because that would be to injure her fair fame, to no purpose, for Priam could not overthrow the decision of “so high a place as parliament;” while most of all he fears to perturb her heart with violence, to the slander of her name — for he must hold her honour dearer than himself in every case, as lovers ought of right:
“Thus am I in desire and reason twight:1 1twisted
Desire, for to disturbe her, me redeth;1 1counseleth
And Reason will not, so my hearte dreadeth.”1 1is in doubt
Thus weeping, that he coul
de never cease
He said, “Alas! how shall I, wretche, fare?
For well feel I alway my love increase,
And hope is less and less alway, Pandare!
Increasen eke the causes of my care;
So well-away! 1why n’ ill my hearte brest?1 1why will not
For us in love there is but little rest.” my heart break?1
Pandare answered, “Friend, thou may’st for me
Do as thee list;1 but had I it so hot, 1please
And thine estate,1 she shoulde go with me! 1rank
Though all this town cried on this thing by note,
I would not set1 all that noise a groat; 1value
For when men have well cried, then will they rown,1 1whisper
Eke wonder lasts but nine nights ne’er in town.
“Divine not in reason ay so deep,
Nor courteously, but help thyself anon;
Bet1 is that others than thyselfe weep; 1better
And namely, since ye two be all one,
Rise up, for, by my head, she shall not go’n!
And rather be in blame a little found,
Than sterve1 here as a gnat withoute wound! 1die
“It is no shame unto you, nor no vice,
Her to withholde, that ye loveth most;
Parauntre1 she might holde thee for nice,2 1peradventure 2foolish
To let her go thus unto the Greeks’ host;
Think eke, Fortune, as well thyselfe wost,
Helpeth the hardy man to his emprise,
And weiveth1 wretches for their cowardice. 1forsaketh
“And though thy lady would a lite1 her grieve, 1little
Thou shalt thyself thy peace thereafter make;
But, as to me, certain I cannot ‘lieve
That she would it as now for evil take:
Why shoulde then for fear thine hearte quake?
Think eke how Paris hath, that is thy brother,
A love; and why shalt thou not have another?
“And, Troilus, one thing I dare thee swear,
That if Cressida, which that is thy lief,1 1love
Now loveth thee as well as thou dost her,
God help me so, she will not take agrief1 1amiss
Though thou 1anon do boot in1 this mischief; 1provide a remedy
And if she willeth from thee for to pass, immediately1
Then is she false, so love her well the lass.1 1less
“Forthy,1 take heart, and think, right as a knight, 1therefore
Through love is broken all day ev’ry law;
Kithe1 now somewhat thy courage and thy might; 1show
Have mercy on thyself, 1for any awe;1 1in spite of any fear1
Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 425
