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Benedict de Spinoza - "A Theologico Political Treatise [Part III]"

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - "Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre Buch 1"

Plato - "Philebus"

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The Canterbury Tales and Other Poems

G >> Geoffrey Chaucer >> The Canterbury Tales and Other Poems




This Troilus, with heart and ears y-sprad,* *all open
Heard all this thing devised to and fro,
And verily it seemed that he had
*The selfe wit;* but yet to let her go *the same opinion*
His hearte misforgave* him evermo'; *misgave
But, finally, he gan his hearte wrest* *compel
To truste her, and took it for the best.

For which the great fury of his penance* *suffering
Was quench'd with hope, and therewith them between
Began for joy the amorouse dance;
And as the birdes, when the sun is sheen, *bright
Delighten in their song, in leaves green,
Right so the wordes that they spake y-fere* *together
Delighten them, and make their heartes cheer.* *glad

Yet Troilus was not so well at ease, that he did not earnestly
entreat Cressida to observe her promise; for, if she came not
into Troy at the set day, he should never have health, honour, or
joy; and he feared that the stratagem by which she would try to
lure her father back would fail, so that she might be compelled
to remain among the Greeks. He would rather have them steal
away together, with sufficient treasure to maintain them all their
lives; and even if they went in their bare shirt, he had kin and
friends elsewhere, who would welcome and honour them.

Cressida, with a sigh, right in this wise
Answer'd; "Y-wis, my deare hearte true,
We may well steal away, as ye devise,
And finde such unthrifty wayes new;
But afterward full sore *it will us rue;* *we will regret it*
And help me God so at my moste need
As causeless ye suffer all this dread!

"For thilke* day that I for cherishing *that same
Or dread of father, or of other wight,
Or for estate, delight, or for wedding,
Be false to you, my Troilus, my knight,
Saturne's daughter Juno, through her might,
As wood* as Athamante <78> do me dwell *mad
Eternally in Styx the pit of hell!

"And this, on ev'ry god celestial
I swear it you, and eke on each goddess,
On ev'ry nymph, and deity infernal,
On Satyrs and on Faunes more or less,
That *halfe goddes* be of wilderness; *demigods
And Atropos my thread of life to-brest,* *break utterly
If I be false! now trow* me if you lest.** *believe **please

"And thou Simois, <79> that as an arrow clear
Through Troy ay runnest downward to the sea,
Bear witness of this word that said is here!
That thilke day that I untrue be
To Troilus, mine owen hearte free,
That thou returne backward to thy well,
And I with body and soul sink in hell!"

Even yet Troilus was not wholly content, and urged anew his
plan of secret flight; but Cressida turned upon him with the
charge that he mistrusted her causelessly, and demanded of him
that he should be faithful in her absence, else she must die at her
return. Troilus promised faithfulness in far simpler and briefer
words than Cressida had used.

"Grand mercy, good heart mine, y-wis," quoth she;
"And blissful Venus let me never sterve,* *die
Ere I may stand *of pleasance in degree in a position to reward
To quite him* that so well can deserve; him well with pleasure*
And while that God my wit will me conserve,
I shall so do; so true I have you found,
That ay honour to me-ward shall rebound.

"For truste well that your estate* royal, *rank
Nor vain delight, nor only worthiness
Of you in war or tourney martial,
Nor pomp, array, nobley, nor eke richess,
Ne made me to rue* on your distress; *take pity
But moral virtue, grounded upon truth,
That was the cause I first had on you ruth.* *pity

"Eke gentle heart, and manhood that ye had,
And that ye had, -- as me thought, -- in despite
Every thing that *sounded unto* bad, *tended unto, accorded with*
As rudeness, and peoplish* appetite, *vulgar
And that your reason bridled your delight;
This made, aboven ev'ry creature,
That I was yours, and shall while I may dure.

"And this may length of yeares not fordo,* *destroy, do away
Nor remuable* Fortune deface; *unstable
But Jupiter, that of his might may do
The sorrowful to be glad, so give us grace,
Ere nightes ten to meeten in this place,
So that it may your heart and mine suffice!
And fare now well, for time is that ye rise."

The lovers took a heart-rending adieu; and Troilus, suffering
unimaginable anguish, "withoute more, out of the chamber
went."


THE FIFTH BOOK.


APPROACHE gan the fatal destiny
That Jovis hath in disposition,
And to you angry Parcae,* Sisters three, *The Fates
Committeth to do execution;
For which Cressida must out of the town,
And Troilus shall dwelle forth in pine,* *pain
Till Lachesis his thread no longer twine.* *twist

The golden-tressed Phoebus, high aloft,
Thries* had alle, with his beames clear, *thrice
The snowes molt,* and Zephyrus as oft *melted
Y-brought again the tender leaves green,
Since that *the son of Hecuba the queen* *Troilus <80>*
Began to love her first, for whom his sorrow
Was all, that she depart should on the morrow

In the morning, Diomede was ready to escort Cressida to the
Greek host; and Troilus, seeing him mount his horse, could with
difficulty resist an impulse to slay him -- but restrained himself,
lest his lady should be also slain in the tumult. When Cressida
was ready to go,

This Troilus, in guise of courtesy,
With hawk on hand, and with a huge rout* *retinue, crowd
Of knightes, rode, and did her company,
Passing alle the valley far without;
And farther would have ridden, out of doubt,
Full fain,* and woe was him to go so soon, *gladly
But turn he must, and it was eke to do'n.

And right with that was Antenor y-come
Out of the Greekes' host, and ev'ry wight
Was of it glad, and said he was welcome;
And Troilus, *all n'ere his hearte light,* *although his heart
He pained him, with all his fulle might, was not light*
Him to withhold from weeping at the least;
And Antenor he kiss'd and made feast.

And therewithal he must his leave take,
And cast his eye upon her piteously,
And near he rode, his cause* for to make *excuse, occasion
To take her by the hand all soberly;
And, Lord! so she gan weepe tenderly!
And he full soft and slily gan her say,
"Now hold your day, and *do me not to dey."* *do not make me die*

With that his courser turned he about,
With face pale, and unto Diomede
No word he spake, nor none of all his rout;
Of which the son of Tydeus <81> tooke heed,
As he that couthe* more than the creed <82> *knew
In such a craft, and by the rein her hent;* *took
And Troilus to Troye homeward went.

This Diomede, that led her by the bridle,
When that he saw the folk of Troy away,
Thought, "All my labour shall not be *on idle,* *in vain*
If that I may, for somewhat shall I say;
For, at the worst, it may yet short our way;
I have heard say eke, times twice twelve,
He is a fool that will forget himselve."

But natheless, this thought he well enough,
That "Certainly I am aboute naught,
If that I speak of love, or *make it tough;* *make any violent
For, doubteless, if she have in her thought immediate effort*
Him that I guess, he may not be y-brought
So soon away; but I shall find a mean,
That she *not wit as yet shall* what I mean." *shall not yet know*

So he began a general conversation, assured her of not less
friendship and honour among the Greeks than she had enjoyed
in Troy, and requested of her earnestly to treat him as a brother
and accept his service -- for, at last he said, "I am and shall be
ay, while that my life may dure, your own, aboven ev'ry
creature.

"Thus said I never e'er now to woman born;
For, God mine heart as wisly* gladden so! *surely
I loved never woman herebeforn,
As paramours, nor ever shall no mo';
And for the love of God be not my foe,
All* can I not to you, my lady dear, *although
Complain aright, for I am yet to lear.* *teach

"And wonder not, mine owen lady bright,
Though that I speak of love to you thus blive;* *soon
For I have heard ere this of many a wight
That loved thing he ne'er saw in his live;
Eke I am not of power for to strive
Against the god of Love, but him obey
I will alway, and mercy I you pray."

Cressida answered his discourses as though she scarcely heard
them; yet she thanked him for his trouble and courtesy, and
accepted his offered friendship -- promising to trust him, as well
she might. Then she alighted from her steed, and, with her heart
nigh breaking, was welcomed to the embrace of her father.
Meanwhile Troilus, back in Troy, was lamenting with tears the
loss of his love, despairing of his or her ability to survive the ten
days, and spending the night in wailing, sleepless tossing, and
troublous dreams. In the morning he was visited by Pandarus,
to whom he gave directions for his funeral; desiring that the
powder into which his heart was burned should be kept in a
golden urn, and given to Cressida. Pandarus renewed his old
counsels and consolations, reminded his friend that ten days
were a short time to wait, argued against his faith in evil
dreams, and urged him to take advantage of the truce, and
beguile the time by a visit to King Sarpedon (a Lycian Prince
who had come to aid the Trojans). Sarpedon entertained them
splendidly; but no feasting, no pomp, no music of instruments,
no singing of fair ladies, could make up for the absence of
Cressida to the desolate Troilus, who was for ever poring upon
her old letters, and recalling her loved form. Thus he "drove to
an end" the fourth day, and would have then returned to Troy,
but for the remonstrances of Pandarus, who asked if they had
visited Sarpedon only to fetch fire? At last, at the end of a
week, they returned to Troy; Troilus hoping to find Cressida
again in the city, Pandarus entertaining a scepticism which he
concealed from his friend. The morning after their return,
Troilus was impatient till he had gone to the palace of Cressida;
but when he found her doors all closed, "well nigh for sorrow
adown he gan to fall."

Therewith, when he was ware, and gan behold
How shut was ev'ry window of the place,
As frost him thought his hearte *gan to cold;* *began to grow cold*
For which, with changed deadly pale face,
Withoute word, he forth began to pace;
And, as God would, he gan so faste ride,
That no wight of his countenance espied.

Then said he thus: "O palace desolate!
O house of houses, *whilom beste hight!* *formerly called best*
O palace empty and disconsolate!
O thou lantern, of which quench'd is the light!
O palace, whilom day, that now art night!
Well oughtest thou to fall, and I to die,
Since she is gone that wont was us to guy!* *guide, rule

"O palace, whilom crown of houses all,
Illumined with sun of alle bliss!
O ring, from which the ruby is out fall!
O cause of woe, that cause hast been of bliss!
Yet, since I may no bet, fain would I kiss
Thy colde doores, durst I for this rout;
And farewell shrine, of which the saint is out!"

. . . . . . . . . . .

From thence forth he rideth up and down,
And ev'ry thing came him to remembrance,
As he rode by the places of the town,
In which he whilom had all his pleasance;
"Lo! yonder saw I mine own lady dance;
And in that temple, with her eyen clear,
Me caughte first my righte lady dear.

"And yonder have I heard full lustily
My deare hearte laugh; and yonder play:
Saw I her ones eke full blissfully;
And yonder ones to me gan she say,
'Now, goode sweete! love me well, I pray;'
And yond so gladly gan she me behold,
That to the death my heart is to her hold.* *holden, bound

"And at that corner, in the yonder house,
Heard I mine allerlevest* lady dear, *dearest of all
So womanly, with voice melodious,
Singe so well, so goodly and so clear,
That in my soule yet me thinks I hear
The blissful sound; and in that yonder place
My lady first me took unto her grace."

Then he went to the gates, and gazed along the way by which
he had attended Cressida at her departure; then he fancied that
all the passers-by pitied him; and thus he drove forth a day or
two more, singing a song, of few words, which he had made to
lighten his heart:

"O star, of which I lost have all the light,
With hearte sore well ought I to bewail,
That ever dark in torment, night by night,
Toward my death, with wind I steer and sail;
For which, the tenthe night, if that I fail* *miss; be left without
The guiding of thy beames bright an hour,
My ship and me Charybdis will devour."

By night he prayed the moon to run fast about her sphere; by
day he reproached the tardy sun -- dreading that Phaethon had
come to life again, and was driving the chariot of Apollo out of
its straight course. Meanwhile Cressida, among the Greeks, was
bewailing the refusal of her father to let her return, the certainty
that her lover would think her false, and the hopelessness of any
attempt to steal away by night. Her bright face waxed pale, her
limbs lean, as she stood all day looking toward Troy; thinking
on her love and all her past delights, regretting that she had not
followed the counsel of Troilus to steal away with him, and
finally vowing that she would at all hazards return to the city.
But she was fated, ere two months, to be full far from any such
intention; for Diomede now brought all his skill into play, to
entice Cressida into his net. On the tenth day, Diomede, "as
fresh as branch in May," came to the tent of Cressida, feigning
business with Calchas.

Cresside, at shorte wordes for to tell,
Welcomed him, and down by her him set,
And he was *eath enough to make dwell;* *easily persuaded to stay*
And after this, withoute longe let,* *delay
The spices and the wine men forth him fet,* *fetched
And forth they speak of this and that y-fere,* *together
As friendes do, of which some shall ye hear.

He gan first fallen of the war in speech
Between them and the folk of Troye town,
And of the siege he gan eke her beseech
To tell him what was her opinioun;
From that demand he so descended down
To aske her, if that her strange thought
The Greekes' guise,* and workes that they wrought. *fashion

And why her father tarried* so long *delayed
To wedde her unto some worthy wight.
Cressida, that was in her paines strong
For love of Troilus, her owen knight,
So farforth as she cunning* had or might, *ability
Answer'd him then; but, as for his intent,* *purpose
It seemed not she wiste* what he meant. *knew

But natheless this ilke* Diomede *same
Gan *in himself assure,* and thus he said; *grow confident*
"If I aright have *taken on you heed,* *observed you*
Me thinketh thus, O lady mine Cresside,
That since I first hand on your bridle laid,
When ye out came of Troye by the morrow,
Ne might I never see you but in sorrow.

"I cannot say what may the cause be,
But if for love of some Trojan it were;
*The which right sore would a-thinke me* *which it would much
That ye for any wight that dwelleth there pain me to think*
Should [ever] spill* a quarter of a tear, *shed
Or piteously yourselfe so beguile;* *deceive
For dreadeless* it is not worth the while. *undoubtedly

"The folk of Troy, as who saith, all and some
In prison be, as ye yourselfe see;
From thence shall not one alive come
For all the gold betwixte sun and sea;
Truste this well, and understande me;
There shall not one to mercy go alive,
All* were he lord of worldes twice five. *although

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"What will ye more, lovesome lady dear?
Let Troy and Trojan from your hearte pace;
Drive out that bitter hope, and make good cheer,
And call again the beauty of your face,
That ye with salte teares so deface;
For Troy is brought into such jeopardy,
That it to save is now no remedy.

"And thinke well, ye shall in Greekes find
A love more perfect, ere that it be night,
Than any Trojan is, and more kind,
And better you to serve will do his might;
And, if ye vouchesafe, my lady bright,
I will be he, to serve you, myselve, --
Yea, lever* than be a lord of Greekes twelve!" *rather

And with that word he gan to waxe red,
And in his speech a little while he quoke,* *quaked; trembled
And cast aside a little with his head,
And stint a while; and afterward he woke,
And soberly on her he threw his look,
And said, "I am, albeit to you no joy,
As gentle* man as any wight in Troy. *high-born

"But, hearte mine! since that I am your man,* *leigeman, subject
And [you] be the first of whom I seeke grace, (in love)
To serve you as heartily as I can,
And ever shall, while I to live have space,
So, ere that I depart out of this place,
Ye will me grante that I may, to-morrow,
At better leisure, telle you my sorrow."

Why should I tell his wordes that he said?
He spake enough for one day at the mest;* *most
It proveth well he spake so, that Cresseide
Granted upon the morrow, at his request,
Farther to speake with him, at the least,
So that he would not speak of such mattere;
And thus she said to him, as ye may hear:

As she that had her heart on Troilus
So faste set, that none might it arace;* *uproot <83>
And strangely* she spake, and saide thus; *distantly, unfriendlily
"O Diomede! I love that ilke place
Where I was born; and Jovis, for his grace,
Deliver it soon of all that doth it care!* *afflict
God, for thy might, so *leave it* well to fare!" *grant it*

She knows that the Greeks would fain wreak their wrath on
Troy, if they might; but that shall never befall: she knows that
there are Greeks of high condition -- though as worthy men
would be found in Troy: and she knows that Diomede could
serve his lady well.

"But, as to speak of love, y-wis," she said,
"I had a lord, to whom I wedded was, <84>
He whose mine heart was all, until he died;
And other love, as help me now Pallas,
There in my heart nor is, nor ever was;
And that ye be of noble and high kindred,
I have well heard it tellen, out of dread.* *doubt

"And that doth* me to have so great a wonder *causeth
That ye will scornen any woman so;
Eke, God wot, love and I be far asunder;
I am disposed bet, so may I go,* *fare or prosper
Unto my death to plain and make woe;
What I shall after do I cannot say,
But truely as yet *me list not play.* *I am not disposed
*for sport
"Mine heart is now in tribulatioun;
And ye in armes busy be by day;
Hereafter, when ye wonnen have the town,
Parauntre* then, so as it happen may, *peradventure
That when I see that I never *ere sey,* *saw before*
Then will I work that I never ere wrought;
This word to you enough sufficen ought.

"To-morrow eke will I speak with you fain,* *willingly
So that ye touche naught of this mattere;
And when you list, ye may come here again,
And ere ye go, thus much I say you here:
As help me Pallas, with her haires clear,
If that I should of any Greek have ruth,
It shoulde be yourselfe, by my truth!

"I say not therefore that I will you love;
*Nor say not nay;* but, in conclusioun, *nor say I that
I meane well, by God that sits above!" I will not*
And therewithal she cast her eyen down,
And gan to sigh, and said; "O Troye town!
Yet bid* I God, in quiet and in rest *pray
I may you see, or *do my hearte brest!"* *cause my heart to break*

But in effect, and shortly for to say,
This Diomede all freshly new again
Gan pressen on, and fast her mercy pray;
And after this, the soothe for to sayn,
Her glove he took, of which he was full fain,
And finally, when it was waxen eve,
And all was well, he rose and took his leave.

Cressida retired to rest:

Returning in her soul ay up and down
The wordes of this sudden Diomede,<85>
His great estate,* the peril of the town, *rank
And that she was alone, and hadde need
Of friendes' help; and thus began to dread
The causes why, the soothe for to tell,
That she took fully the purpose for to dwell.* *remain (with the
Greeks)
The morrow came, and, ghostly* for to speak, *plainly
This Diomede is come unto Cresseide;
And shortly, lest that ye my tale break,
So well he for himselfe spake and said,
That all her sighes sore adown he laid;
And finally, the soothe for to sayn,
He refte* her the great** of all her pain. *took away **the greater
part of
And after this, the story telleth us
That she him gave the faire baye steed
The which she ones won of Troilus;
And eke a brooch (and that was little need)
That Troilus' was, she gave this Diomede;
And eke, the bet from sorrow him to relieve,
She made him wear a pensel* of her sleeve. *pendant <86>

I find eke in the story elleswhere,
When through the body hurt was Diomede
By Troilus, she wept many a tear,
When that she saw his wide woundes bleed,
And that she took to keepe* him good heed, *tend, care for
And, for to heal him of his sorrow's smart,
Men say, I n'ot,* that she gave him her heart. *know not

And yet, when pity had thus completed the triumph of
inconstancy, she made bitter moan over her falseness to one of
the noblest and worthiest men that ever was; but it was now too
late to repent, and at all events she resolved that she would be
true to Diomede -- all the while weeping for pity of the absent
Troilus, to whom she wished every happiness. The tenth day,
meantime, had barely dawned, when Troilus, accompanied by
Pandarus, took his stand on the walls, to watch for the return of
Cressida. Till noon they stood, thinking that every corner from
afar was she; then Troilus said that doubtless her old father bore
the parting ill, and had detained her till after dinner; so they
went to dine, and returned to their vain observation on the
walls. Troilus invented all kinds of explanations for his
mistress's delay; now, her father would not let her go till eve;
now, she would ride quietly into the town after nightfall, not to
be observed; now, he must have mistaken the day. For five or
six days he watched, still in vain, and with decreasing hope.
Gradually his strength decayed, until he could walk only with a
staff; answering the wondering inquiries of his friends, by saying
that he had a grievous malady about his heart. One day he
dreamed that in a forest he saw Cressida in the embrace of a
boar; and he had no longer doubt of her falsehood. Pandarus,
however, explained away the dream to mean merely that
Cressida was detained by her father, who might be at the point
of death; and he counselled the disconsolate lover to write a
letter, by which he might perhaps get at the truth. Troilus
complied, entreating from his mistress, at the least, a "letter of
hope;" and the lady answered, that she could not come now, but
would so soon as she might; at the same time "making him great
feast," and swearing that she loved him best -- "of which he
found but bottomless behest [which he found but groundless
promises]." Day by day increased the woe of Troilus; he laid
himself in bed, neither eating, nor drinking, nor sleeping, nor
speaking, almost distracted by the thought of Cressida's
unkindness. He related his dream to his sister Cassandra, who
told him that the boar betokened Diomede, and that,
wheresoever his lady was, Diornede certainly had her heart, and
she was his: "weep if thou wilt, or leave, for, out of doubt, this
Diomede is in, and thou art out." Troilus, enraged, refused to
believe Cassandra's interpretation; as well, he cried, might such
a story be credited of Alcestis, who devoted her life for her
husband; and in his wrath he started from bed, "as though all
whole had him y-made a leach [physician]," resolving to find
out the truth at all hazards. The death of Hector meanwhile
enhanced the sorrow which he endured; but he found time to
write often to Cressida, beseeching her to come again and hold
her truth; till one day his false mistress, out of pity, wrote him
again, in these terms:

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