Troilus and Criseyde

Troilus and Cressida thumb|upright=1.15|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. St. 4, l. 22 Horace, Ars Poetica, ll. 71–3 So longe mote ye live, and alle proude, Til crowes feet be growe under your yë. St. 58, l. 402 Spenser, Shepheardes Calender, December, l. 136: "And by myne eie the crow his clawe doth write." Of harmes two, the lesse is for to chese. St. 68, l. 470 Thomas à Kempis, Imitation of Christ, bk. III, ch. xii: "Of two evils we should always choose the less." 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?' St. 93, l. 645 'Drinke' = Love potion 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. St. 191, l. 1331 Proverb: "Great oaks from little acorns grow." 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 It is nought good a sleping hound to wake. St. 110, l. 764 Proverb: "Let sleeping dogs lie." 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 Oon ere it herde, at the other out it wente. St. 62, l. 434 Idiom: "Go in one ear and out the other." A wonder last but nyne night never in toune. St. 84, l. 588 Cf. the phrase "a nine days' wonder." Lat. nouendiale sacrum; Livy, bk. I, sec. 31 But manly set the world on sixe and sevene; And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene. St. 89, l. 622 Idiom: "At sixes and sevens." 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." For he that nought nassayeth, nought nacheveth. St. 112, l. 784 Proverb: "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." 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! St. 168, l. 1176 See fyrn, and cf. Villon 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. Sts. 259–60, l. 1807 Boccaccio, Teseide, bk. XI, sts. 1–3 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 External links W. W. Skeat (ed.) The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, 2nd ed. (1900), vol. 2 Category:Epic poetry