And hast the lesse nede to contrefete,

For hym men demeth hoot that men se swete.

'Lo, hold the at thy tristre close, and I
Shal wele the dere unto thy bowe dryve."
Therwith he toke his leve al softily,
And Troylus went to paleys as blyve,
So glad ne was he nevere in al his lyve;
And to Pandarus rede gan al assente,
And to Deiphebus hous at nyght he went.

What nedeth me to telle yow al the chere
That Deiphebus unto his brother made?
Or his accis, or his sikly manere,

How men gan hym with clothes for to lade,
Whan he was leyd, and how men wold hym glade;
But al for noght, he held alwey the wise,
That ye han herd Pandare or this devise.

But certeyn is, or Troylus hym had leyde,
Deiphebus had hym prayed over nyght
To be a frend and helpyng to Cryseyde;
God wote, that grauntid he anone right
To be her ful frend with al his might:
But such a nede was to prayen hym thenne,
As to pray a wode man for to renne.

The morow come, and neighyn gan the tyme
Whan that the faire quene Eleyne
Shope her to be, an hour aftir prime,
With Deiphebus, whom she nolde not feyne;
But as his sustur, homly, sothe to seyne,

1 An allusion to the ancient manner of hunting, which is, indeed, the same as in our battues. A large tract of forest was surrounded by a number of beaters, who gradually closed in, driving the deer before them to a place where the sportsmen were stationed.

2 That is, Troylus was already so much inclined to be her friend, that it was no more necessary to urge him to befriend her than it is to urge a madman to run.'

She come to dyner in her pleyn entent;
But God and Pandare, wist non what it ment.

Come eke Cryseyde, innocent of this,
Anteigne her sustur, Tarbe also;

1

But fle now prolixitye best is,1
For love of God, and lete us fast go
Right to the effect, withouten talis mo,
Whi al this folk assemblid in this place,
And let us of her salwynges pace.

Grete honour ded hem Deiphebus certein,
And fed hen wel, with al that might lyke;
But evermore, alas, was his refrain:"
'My good trew brothir Troylus the sike
Lith yet,' and therwithal gan he sike,
And after that he peyned hym to glade
Hem as he might, and good chere hem made.
Compleynid eke Eleyne of his siknesse
So feithfully, that pite was to here,

And every wight gan wexe for the accesse
A leche anone, and seyd, 'On this manere
Men curith folk,―This charme I wol the lere;'3
But ther sat on, al lest her not to teche,
That thoght, best cowd I yet be his leche.
Aftir compleynt hym gunnyn thei to preise,
As folk do yet whan some men have begunne
To preise a man, and up with prise him reise
A thousand fold yet hier than the sunne;
He is, he can, that fewe lordis kunne,
And Pandarus, of that thei wold afferme,
He not forgat her preysing to conferme.

1 That is, It is best to avoid prolixity.'

2 The refrain, in French, is the burthen of a song. The burthen of Deiphebus's song was still, Alas, my good brother Troylus lies sick.'

3 This is very characteristic of Chaucer's sly humour. Each person immediately becomes learned in medicine, and one proposes a specific, another a charm, to cure Troylus of the fever under which they supposed he was labouring.

Herd alwey this Cryseyde wele ynow,

And

word gan every

for to notifye,

For which with sobre chere her herte logh,
For ho is he that nould her glorifye,
To wynne suche a knyght to lyve or dye?'
But al passe I, lest I to longe dwelle,
For o peyn is not al that I of telle.

The tyme come fro dyner to ryse,
And as hem oght, thei risyn everychone,
And gun a while of this and that devise;
But Pandarus brak al that speche anon,
And seid to Deiphebus, Wil ye gone,
If it your wil were, as I yow praide,
To speke of the nedis of Crysayde?'

6

Eleyne, whiche that by the hond her held,
Toke ferst the tale, and seyd, 'Go we blyve,'
And goodly on Cryseyd she beheld,

6

And seid, Jovis lete hym nevere thrive

That doth yow harme, or reve hym sone of lyve,
And geve me sorow but he shal it rewe,
If that I may, and al folk be trewe.'

'Tel thou thi neces cas,' quod Deiphebus
To Pandare, for thow canst it best telle.'
'Mi lordis and my ladies, it stont thus;
What shold I lenger,' quod he, 'do yow dwelle?'
He rong hem out the processe as a belle
Upon her foo, that hight Poliphete,

So haynous, that men might on hit spete.2

Answerd of this eche wors of hem than other,
And Poliphete gun they to warien,

And,-Hongid be suche on, were he my brothere,—

·

1 That is, For who would not be proud to have won such a knight to live and die in her service ?'

2 He described the whole course of the injuries which she had received from Poliphete as being so heinous, that every one was disgusted with his conduct.

And so he shal, for he ne may not varien.—'
What shold I lenger on this tale tarien?
Pleinly al at ones thei her highten

To be her frendis al that thei mighten.

Spak than Eleyne, and seid, Pandarus,
Wote oght my lord, my brother, this matere?
I mene Ector; or wote hit Troylus?'

He seid her, 'Ye!' but he seid, 'Wol ye here?
Me thinkith, seth that Troylus is here,
It were good, if ye wille assent,

She told hym her self al this ere she stent.

'For he wil have more her grefe at herte,
Bycause, lo, that she a lady is;

And by your leve, I wole but right yn stert,
And do yow wyte, and that anone ywis,
If that he slepe, or wil not here of this:'
And yn he lepe, and seid hym in his ere,

'God have thi soul, for brought have I thi bere.”

To smylyn of this tho bigan Troylus,
And Pandarus tho, without rekenyng,
Out went anon to Eleyn and Deiphebus,
And seid hem, 'So there be no tarying
Ne more pres, he wole wele that ye bring
Cryseyde, my lady, that is here,

And as he may endure, he wol yow here.

But wele ye wote, the chambre is but lyte,
And few folk may lightly make hym warme;
Now lokith, for I wole have no wyte

To bring in prese that might do hym harme,
Or him dissese, for my betir arme:3

1 This is what they all said of Poliphete.

2 Pandarus says, ironically, 'May God have mercy on your souls, for now I have brought you your bier,' meaning your death; but there appears to be a further allusion.

3 That is, I would not, to save my right arm, bring in a crowd of people tc incommode him.'

Wher it be betir to byde tul eft sones,
Now lokith ye that wite what to done is.

'I say for me, best as I can knowe,
That no wight yn wende now, but
ye twey,
But it were I; for I can in a throwe
Reherce her cas, unlike that she can sey;
And aftir this she may hym ones prey
To be good lord in short, and take her leve;
This may not mychil of his ese hym greve.
'And eke for she is straunge, he wil forbere
His ese, whiche hym oght not for yow;
Eke othir thing, that touchith not to here,
He wil yow tel, I wote it wel right now,
That secre is, and for the tounis prow :'
And they that nothing knew of his entent,
Without more, to Troylus yn thei went.

Eleyne, in al her goodly softe wyse,
Gan hym salue, and womanly hym pleye,
And seid, Ywis, he must algate arise!
Now fair brother, be al hole I pray!'
And gan her arme on his right shuldir lay,
And hym with al her wit to recomforte,
As she best couthe, she gan hym disporte.

So after this quod she, 'We yow byseche,
My dere brothir Deiphebus and I,
For love of God, and so doeth Pandare eke,
To be good lord and frend, ful hertily,
Unto Cryseyde, whiche that certeinly
Receyvith wrong, as wote wel here Pandare,
That can her cas wel bet than I declare.'

This Pandare gan now his tung avyle,
And al her cas reherce, and that anone;
Whan it was seid, sone aftir in a while,
Quod Troylus,' As sone as I was gone,
I wole right fayne with al my might alone,

VOL. III.

I