And wommen most wol haten me of alle ;
Allas! that swich a cas me sholdë falle !

'They wol seyn, in as muche as in me is,
I have hem don dishonoure, walaway!
Al be I not the firste that dide amys,
What helpeth that to don my blame away?
But syn I se ther is no better way,
And that to late is now for me to rewe,
To Dyomede algate1 I wol be trewe.

'But, Troilus, syn I no better may,
And syn that thus departen ye and I,

Yet preye I God so yeve yow right good day;
As for the gentilestë trewëly,

That evere I say, to serven faithfully,

And best kan ay his lady honour kepe;'

And with that word she braste anon to wepc.

'And certes, yow to haten shal I nevere,
And frendës love, that shal ye han of me,
And my good word, al shold I lyven evere;
And trewëly I wol right sory be,

For to sen yow in adversité;

And giltëlees I wot wel I yow leeve,

And al shal passe, and thus tak I my leve.'

But trewëly how longe it was betweyne,
That she forsok hym for this Dyomede,
Ther is non auctour telleth it, I wene;
Tak every man now to his bokës hede,
He shal no timë fynden, out of drede;
For though that he bigan to wowe3 hire soone,
Er he hire wan, yet was ther more to doone.

Ne me ne list this sely womman chyde
Ferther than the storië wol devyse;
Hire name, allas! is publyshed so wyde,
That for hire gilte it ought ynough suffise;
And if I myght excuse hire any wyse,

For she so sory was for hire untrouthe,
Iwis I wold excuse hire yet for routhe.

[Troylus discovers Criseyde's infidelity, and meets his death,
fighting desperately.]

The wrath, as I bigan yow for to seye,
Of Troilus, the Grekës boughten deere;
For thousandës his hondës maden dye,
As he that was withouten any peere,
Save Ector in his tyme, as I kan here;
But, walawey! save only Goddës wille,
Dispitously hym slough the fiers Achille.

And when that he was slayn in this manere,
His lightë gost ful blisfully is went
Up to the holownesse of the seventh spere,
In convers letynge everych element1;
And ther he saugh, with ful avysëment,
The erratyk sterrës, herkenynge armonye,
With sownës ful of hevenyssh melodye.

And down from thennës faste he gan avyse
This litel spot of erth, that with the se
Embraced is; and fully gan despise
This wreched world, and held al vanyté,
To respect of the pleyn felicité

That is in hevene above and at the laste,
Ther he was slayn, his lokyng down he caste.

And in hymself he lough right at the wo
Of hem that wepten for his deth so faste,
And dampned al our werk that folweth so
The blyndë lust, the which that may not laste,
And sholden al our herte on hevene caste;

1 From the seventh or uttermost heaven all the others would appear

convex, or convers.

And forth he wentë, shortly for to telle,
Ther as Mercurie sorted hym to dwelle.

Swich fyn1 hath, lo! this Troilus for love!
Swich fyn hath al his gretë worthynesse!
Swich fyn hath his estat reäl2 above!

Swich fyn his lust, swich fyn hath his noblesse !
Swich fyn hath falsë worldës brotelnesse3!
And thus bigan his lovynge of Cryseyde,
As I have told, and in this wise he deyde.

O yongë fresshë folkës, he or she,

In which that love up groweth with your age,
Repeireth hom fro worldly vanyté,
And of your herte up casteth the visage
To thilke God, that after his ymage

Yow made, and thynketh al nys but a faire,
This world that passeth soon, as flourës faire.

And loveth hym the which that, right for love,
Upon a crois, our soulës for to beye,
First starf and roos, and sit in heven above,
For he nyl falsen no wight, dar I seye,
That wol his herte al holly on hym leye;
And syn he best to love is, and most meke,
What nedeth feyned loves for to seke?

Lo! here of payens cursed oldë rites!
Lo! here what alle hire goddës may availle!
Lo! here this wreched worldës appetites!
Lo! here the fyn and guerdon for travaille,
Of Jove, Apollo, of Mars, and swich rascaille !
Lo! here the forme of olde clerkës speche
In poetrie, if ye hire bokës seche.

' end.

8 royal.

• brittleness. • Repair ye.

• died.

• sits.

THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES.

[Chaucer dreams that he sees the birds assembled on St. Valentine's Day to choose their mates, the Goddess Nature presiding. Among the mates is a formel, or female eagle, wooed by three tercels: the formel being probably Anne of Bohemia, and the tercel royal King Richard II.]

And in a launde, upon an hille of floures,
Was set this noble goddessë Nature;
Of braunches were hir hallës and hir boures
Ywrought, after hir crafte and hir mesure;
Ne ther nas fowl that cometh of engendrure,
That there ne werë prest1, in hir presence,
To take hir dome2, and yeve hir audience.

There myghtë men the royal egle fynde,
That with his sharpë look perceth the Sonne;
And other egles of a lower kynde,

Of which that clerkës wel devysen konne;

There was the tiraunt with his fethres donne

3

And grey, I mene the goshauke that doth pyne 3
To briddës, for his outrageous ravyne.

The gent faucoun*, that with his feet distreyneth
The kyngës hond; the hardy sperhauk eke,
The quaylës foo; the merlyon that peyneth
Hymself ful ofte the larke for to seke;
There was the dowvë, with hir eyën meke;

5

The jalouse swanne, ayens hys deth that syngeth
The owle eke, that of dethe the bodë bryngeth.

1 ready.

2

judgment.

♦ the peregrine.

causes tormert. against.

The crane the geaunt, with his trompes soune:
The thefe the chough, and eke the janglyng pye;
The scornyng jay, the eles foo the heroune;
The falsë lapwyng, ful of trecherye ;
The starë, that the counseyl kan bewrye1;
The tamë ruddok2, and the coward kyte;
The cok, that orlogge ys of thropës lyte3.

The sparow, Venus sone, and the nyghtyngale
That clepeth forth the fresshë levës newe:
The swalow, mordrer of the beës smale,
-That maken hony of flourës fressh of hewe;
The wedded turtel, with hys hertë trewe;
The pecok, with his aungels fethers bryghte;
The fesaunt, scorner of the cok by nyghte.

The waker goos, the cukkow ever unkynde,
The papinjay, ful of delycacye;

The drakë, stroyer of his owën kynde;

The storkë, wreker of avowterie ;

The hoote cormeraunt, ful of glotonye;

The ravene and the crowe, with voys of care;

The throstel old, the frosty feldëfare.

The question as to which tercel is to have the formel eagle is referred to the Parliament of Birds. Some of the opinions given are as follows.]

The watir foulës han her hedës leyd

Togedir, and of shorte avysëment,

Whan everych had hys large golee seyd,

They seyden sothly al by on assent,

How that the goos, with hir faconde gent",

That soo desireth to pronounce our nede,

Shal telle our tale, and preyde to God hir spede.