And dressed him upward, and she right tho* *then
Gan both her handes soft upon him lay.
“O! for the love of God, do ye not so
To me,” quoth she; “ey! what is this to say?
For come I am to you for causes tway;* *two
First you to thank, and of your lordship eke
Continuance* I woulde you beseek.”** *protection **beseech
This Troilus, that heard his lady pray
Him of lordship, wax’d neither quick nor dead;
Nor might one word for shame to it say, <39>
Although men shoulde smiten off his head.
But, Lord! how he wax’d suddenly all red!
And, Sir, his lesson, that he *ween’d have con,* *thought he knew
To praye her, was through his wit y-run. by heart*
Cresside all this espied well enow, —
For she was wise, — and lov’d him ne’er the less,
All n’ere he malapert, nor made avow,
Nor was so bold to sing a foole’s mass;<40>
But, when his shame began somewhat to pass,
His wordes, as I may my rhymes hold,
I will you tell, as teache bookes old.
In changed voice, right for his very dread,
Which voice eke quak’d, and also his mannere
Goodly* abash’d, and now his hue is red, *becomingly
Now pale, unto Cresside, his lady dear,
With look downcast, and humble *yielden cheer,* *submissive face*
Lo! *altherfirste word that him astert,* *the first word he said*
Was twice: “Mercy, mercy, my dear heart!”
And stent* a while; and when he might *out bring,* *stopped *speak*
The nexte was: “God wote, for I have,
*As farforthly as I have conning,* *as far as I am able*
Been youres all, God so my soule save,
And shall, till that I, woeful wight, *be grave;* *die*
And though I dare not, cannot, to you plain,
Y-wis, I suffer not the lesse pain.
“This much as now, O womanlike wife!
I may *out bring,* and if it you displease, *speak out*
That shall I wreak* upon mine owne life, *avenge
Right soon, I trow, and do your heart an ease,
If with my death your heart I may appease:
But, since that ye have heard somewhat say,
Now reck I never how soon that I dey.” *die
Therewith his manly sorrow to behold
It might have made a heart of stone to rue;
And Pandare wept as he to water wo’ld, <41>
And saide, “Woe-begone* be heartes true,” *in woeful plight
And procur’d* his niece ever new and new, *urged
“For love of Godde, make *of him an end,* *put him out of pain*
Or slay us both at ones, ere we wend.”* *go
“Ey! what?” quoth she; “by God and by my truth,
I know not what ye woulde that I say;”
“Ey! what?” quoth he; “that ye have on him ruth,* *pity
For Godde’s love, and do him not to dey.” *die
“Now thenne thus,” quoth she, “I would him pray
To telle me the *fine of his intent;* *end of his desire*
Yet wist* I never well what that he meant.” *knew
“What that I meane, sweete hearte dear?”
Quoth Troilus, “O goodly, fresh, and free!
That, with the streames* of your eyne so clear, *beams, glances
Ye woulde sometimes *on me rue and see,* *take pity and look on me*
And then agreen* that I may be he, *take in good part
Withoute branch of vice, in any wise,
In truth alway to do you my service,
“As to my lady chief, and right resort,
With all my wit and all my diligence;
And for to have, right as you list, comfort;
Under your yerd,* equal to mine offence, *rod, chastisement
As death, if that *I breake your defence;* *do what you
And that ye deigne me so much honour, forbid <42>*
Me to commanden aught in any hour.