Troilus and Criseyde

Not to be confused with Troilus and Cressida.
Wordes tho
That hadden prys, now wonder nyce and straunge
Us thinketh hem; and yet they spake hem so,
And spedde as wel in love as men now do.

Troilus and Criseyde is an epic poem by Geoffrey Chaucer which re-tells in Middle English the tragic story of the lovers Troilus and Criseyde set against a backdrop of war during the siege of Troy.

Quotes

Book I

  • The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen,
    That was the king Priamus sone of Troye,
    In lovinge, how his aventures fellen
    Fro wo to wele, and after out of joye,
    My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye.
    Thesiphone, thou help me for tendyte
    Thise woful vers, that wepen as I wryte!
    • St. 1, l. 1


  • But the Troyane gestes, as they felle,
    In Omer, or in Dares, or in Dyte,
    Who-so that can, may rede hem as they wryte.
    • St. 21, l. 145


  • O blinde world, O blinde entencioun!
    How ofte falleth al theffect contraire
    Of surquidrye and foul presumpcioun;
    For caught is proud, and caught is debonaire.
    This Troilus is clomben on the staire,
    And litel weneth that he moot descenden.
    But al-day falleth thing that foles ne wenden.
    • St. 31, l. 211


  • For ever it was, and ever it shal bifalle,
    That Love is he that alle thing may binde;
    For may no man for-do the lawe of kinde.
    • St. 34, l. 236


  • If no love is, O god, what fele I so?
    And if love is, what thing and whiche is he!
    If love be good, from whennes comth my wo?
    • St. 58, l. 400 (Cantus Troili)
      Trans. Petrarch, Sonnet 88: S'amor non è


  • A fool may eek a wys man ofte gyde.
    • St. 90, l. 630


  • For it is seyd, 'man maketh ofte a yerde
    With which the maker is him-self y-beten
    In sondry maner.'
    • St. 106, l. 740
      Cf. "He makes a rod for his own breech"; Hazlitt, English Proverbs, &c. (ed. 1882), p. 179


  • Eek som-tyme it is craft to seme flee
    Fro thing which in effect men hunte faste.
    • St. 107, l. 747


  • Thou mayst allone here wepe and crye and knele;
    But, love a woman that she woot it nought,
    And she wol quyte that thou shalt not fele;
    Unknowe, unkist, and lost that is un-sought.
    • St. 116, l. 806


Book II

  • O wind, O wind, the weder ginneth clere.
    • St. 1, l. 2


  • Ye knowe eek, that in forme of speche is chaunge
    With-inne a thousand yeer, and wordes tho
    That hadden prys, now wonder nyce and straunge
    Us thinketh hem; and yet they spake hem so,
    And spedde as wel in love as men now do;
    Eek for to winne love in sondry ages,
    In sondry londes, sondry ben usages.


  • So longe mote ye live, and alle proude,
    Til crowes feet be growe under your yë.



  • For which he wex a litel reed for shame,
    Whan he the peple up-on him herde cryen,
    That to biholde it was a noble game,
    How sobreliche he caste doun his yën.
    Cryseyda gan al his chere aspyen,
    And leet so softe it in hir herte sinke,
    That to hir-self she seyde, 'who yaf me drinke?'


  • And we shal speke of thee som-what, I trowe,
    Whan thou art goon, to do thyne eres glowe!
    • St. 146, l. 1021
      See Brand, Popular Antiquities, ed. Ellis, vol. 3, p. 171


  • But as we may alday our-selven see,
    Through more wode or col, the more fyr;
    Right so encrees of hope, of what it be,
    Therwith ful ofte encreseth eek desyr;
    Or, as an ook cometh of a litel spyr,
    So through this lettre, which that she him sente,
    Encresen gan desyr, of which he brente.


Book III

  • God loveth, and to love wol nought werne;
    And in this world no lyves creature,
    With-outen love, is worth, or may endure.
    • St. 2, l. 12


  •                  Lord, this is an huge rayn!
    This were a weder for to slepen inne.
    • St. 94, l. 656



  • For I have seyn, of a ful misty morwe
    Folwen ful ofte a mery someres day.
    • St. 152, l. 1060


  • Right as an aspes leef she gan to quake.
    • St. 172, l. 1200


  • And as the newe abaysshed nightingale,
    That stinteth first whan she biginneth singe.
    • St. 177, l. 1233


  • For of fortunes sharp adversitee
    The worst kinde of infortune is this,
    A man to have ben in prosperitee,
    And it remembren, whan it passed is.
    • St. 233, l. 1625
      From Boethius, bk. II, pr. 4: Sed hoc est, quod recolentem uehementius coquit. Nam in omni aduersitate fortunae infelicissimum genus est infortunii, fuisse felicem. Cf. Dante, Inferno, v, 121; Tennyson, Locksley Hall—"That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things."


  • And held aboute him alwey, out of drede,
    A world of folk.
    • St. 246, l. 1721


Book IV


  • A wonder last but nyne night never in toune.


  • But manly set the world on sixe and sevene;
    And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene.


  • For tyme y-lost may not recovered be.
    • St. 184, l. 1283


Book V

  • I am right sory for your hevinesse.
    • St. 20, l. 140


  • They take it wysly, faire and softe.
    • St. 50, l. 247
      Proverb: "Fair and softly goes far in a day."



  • Paradys stood formed in hir yën.
    • St. 117, l. 817


  • Trewe as steel.
    • St. 119, l. 831


  • This sodein Diomede.
    • St. 147, l. 1024


  • Ye, fare-wel al the snow of ferne yere!


  • Eek greet effect men wryte in place lyte.
    Th' entente is al, and nought the lettres space.
    • St. 233, l. 1629


  • Go, litel book, go litel myn tregedie,
    Ther god thy maker yet, er that he dye,
    So sende might to make in som comedie!
    But litel book, no making thou nenvye,
    But subgit be to alle poesye;
    And kis the steppes, wher-as thou seest pace
    Virgile, Ovyde, Omer, Lucan, and Stace.
    And for ther is so greet diversitee
    In English and in wryting of our tonge,
    So preye I god that noon miswryte thee,
    Ne thee mismetre for defaute of tonge.
    And red wher-so thou be, or elles songe,
    That thou be understonde I god beseche!
    • Sts. 256–57, l. 1786
      Cf. Stevenson, Underwoods, bk. I, Envoy


  • And whan that he was slayn in this manere,
    His lighte goost ful blisfully is went
    Up to the holownesse of the seventh spere,
    In convers letinge every element;
    And ther he saugh, with ful avysement,
    The erratik sterres, herkeninge armonye
    With sownes fulle of hevenish melodye.
    And doun from thennes faste he gan avyse
    This litel spot of erthe, that with the see
    Enbraced is, and fully gan despyse
    This wrecched world, and held al vanitee
    To respect of the pleyn felicitee
    That is in hevene above.


  • O yonge fresshe folkes, he or she,
    In which that love up groweth with your age,
    Repeyreth hoom from worldly vanitee,
    And of your herte up-casteth the visage
    To thilke god that after his image
    Yow made, and thinketh al nis but a fayre
    This world, that passeth sone as floures fayre.
    And loveth him, the which that right for love
    Upon a cros, our soules for to beye,
    First starf, and roos, and sit in hevene a-bove;
    For he nil falsen no wight, dar I seye,
    That wol his herte al hoolly on him leye.
    And sin he best to love is, and most meke,
    What nedeth feyned loves for to seke?
    • St. 263–64, l. 1835
      Hoccleve, De Regimine Principum, ed. Wright, p. 47: "This lyf, my sone, is but a chery-feyre."


  • Lo here, of Payens corsed olde rytes,
    Lo here, what alle hir goddes may availle;
    Lo here, these wrecched worldes appetytes;
    Lo here, the fyn and guerdon for travaille
    Of Jove, Appollo, of Mars, of swich rascaille!
    • St. 265, l. 1849


  • O moral Gower, this book I directe
    To thee.
    • St. 266, l. 1856


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