{"product_id":"troilus-and-cressida-isbn-9780375757365","title":"Troilus and Cressida","description":"Often called the first great English novel, \u003ci\u003eTroilus and Cressida\u003c\/i\u003e, a tragic love story set during the siege of Troy, is Chaucer’s masterpiece. Troilus, a valiant warrior, is scornful of love until he catches a glimpse of Cressida. With the help of his friend and her uncle Pandarus, Troilus wins Cressida over. But their happiness is destroyed when, summoned to a Greek camp, Cressida seeks the protection of one Diomede and ultimately betrays Troilus.“Chaucer’s greatest poem.”—\u003cb\u003eC. S. Lewis\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eGeorge Philip Krapp\u003c\/b\u003e (1872–1934) was a renowned authority on Anglo-Saxon.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePeter G. Beidler\u003c\/b\u003e is a professor of English at Lehigh University and editor of \u003ci\u003eThe Wife of Bath\u003c\/i\u003e and, with Elizabeth Biebel, \u003ci\u003eChaucer’s Wife of Bath’s Prologue\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eTale: An Annotated Bibliography\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eCindy Vitto\u003c\/b\u003e is a professor of English at Rowan University and author of \u003ci\u003eThe Virtuous Pagan in Middle English Literature\u003c\/i\u003e and the co-editor of\u003ci\u003e The Rusted Hauberk: Feudal Ideals of Order and Their Decline\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cb\u003eBook I\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Temple Door\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe double sorrow of Troilus to tell,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUnhappy son of Priam, king of Troy,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd how he fared, when first in love he fell,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e From woe to weal, then back again from joy,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUntil we part my time I shall employ.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTisiphone, now help me to endite\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThese woful lines, that weep e'en as I write!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn thee I call, Goddess malevolent,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThou cruel Fury, grieving ever in pain!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHelp me, who am the sorrowful instrument10\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat lovers use their sorrows to complain;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor truly this is not a saying vain,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA gloomy man should have a gloomy mate,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd faces sad, those who sad tales relate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor I to serve Love's servants ever try,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet dare not seek, for my unlikeliness,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe aid of Love, although for love I die,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo far am I from prospect of success.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut yet if this may make the sorrows less\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf any lover, or may his cause avail,20\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe thanks be his and mine this toilsome tale.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut O ye lovers, bathed in bliss always,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf any drops of pity in you be,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRecall the griefs gone by of other days,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd think sometimes upon the adversity\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf other folk, forgetting not that ye\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHave felt yourselves Love's power to displease,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLest ye might win Love's prize with too great ease.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd pray for those who suffer in the plight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf Troilus, as I shall tell you here,30\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBeseeching Love to bring them to delight;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd pray for me as well, to God so dear,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat I may have the skill to make appear,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn this unhappy tale of Troilus,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow dark may be love's ways and treacherous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd pray for those that dwell in love's despair,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e From which they never hope to be restored;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd pray for them who must the burden bear\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf slanderous tongue of lady or of lord;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePray God that he the faithful may reward,40\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd to the hopeless grant a quick release\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd bring them from unrest to lasting peace.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd pray for lovers all who are at ease,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat they may still continue to be so,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd pray that they their ladies still may please\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd unto Love a reverent honor show;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor thus I trust my soul in truth shall grow,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePraying for those who Love's commands fulfill,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd setting forth their fates in all good will,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith pity and compassion in my heart,50\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs though I brother were to lovers all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow take, I pray, my story in good part;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHenceforth I shall endeavor to recall\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat sorrows once on Troilus must fall\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn loving Cressida, who first returned\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis love, but for new love this old love spurned.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWell known the story, how the Greeks so strong\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn arms, went with a thousand vessels sailing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo Troy, and there the Trojan city long\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBesieged, and after ten years' siege prevailing,60\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn divers ways, but with one wrath unfailing,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAvenged on Troy the wrong to Helen done\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy Paris, when at last great Troy was won.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow so it chanced that in the Trojan town,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere dwelt a lord of rank and high degree,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA priest named Calchas, of such great renown\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd in all science such proficiency,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat he knew what the fate of Troy would be,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor at the shrine at Delphi he had heard\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePhoebus Apollo's dire forboding word.70\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen Calchas found his priestly computation\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eConfirmed the oracle Apollo spake,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat with the Greeks came such a mighty nation,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat in the end the city they would take,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe straight resolved the Trojans to forsake;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor by his divinations well he knew\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat Troy was doomed, for all that Troy might do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith stealth to leave the city he prepared,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor cunning plans he knew well to devise;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn secret to the Grecian host he fared,80\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhere they received him in most courtly wise,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs one of high distinction in their eyes;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor they had hope that by his priestly skill,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe might ward off their future harm and ill.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGreat cry arose when it was first made known\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThrough all the town, and everywhere was told,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat Calchas had turned traitor and had flown,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd to the Greeks his faithless honor sold;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd every Trojan, both the young and old,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDeclared that Calchas, with his wicked kin,90\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDeserved to burn alive for this great sin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow Calchas left behind him when he fled,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eInnocent of this so false and wicked deed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis daughter, who in grief her life now led,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor mortal fear she felt in her great need,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd had no one in Troy her cause to plead,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor she a widow was without a friend\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho might bear aid and helpful counsel lend.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCressida was the name this lady bore,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd in the Trojan city, to my mind,100\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWas none so fair, for in her beauty more\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAngelical she seemed than human kind,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs though a thing immortal were combined\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf all of heaven's gifts of choicest worth,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd sent down here in scorn of our poor earth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis lady could in no way close her ears\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo her own father's evil deed and fame,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd driven near distracted by her fears,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn widow's sober habit dressed, she came\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBefore great Hector, where she doth proclaim110\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer loyalty with tearful voice and eye,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd pleads for grace and treason doth deny.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow Hector was a man of kindly heart,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd when he saw how great was her distress,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd then her beauty likewise played a part,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThese words of comfort to her did address:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"About your father's wicked deeds, the less\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat's said the better! But you yourself in joy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDwell here with us the while you will in Troy!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"And all respect that men owe unto you,120\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs though your father still were dwelling here,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat shall you have, and all regard that's due\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYour person, I assure you without fear.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe humbly thanked him for these words of cheer,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd would have thanked him more had he desired,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd took her leave and to her home retired.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd there she dwelt with such a retinue\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs fitting was for one of her high station,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd kept good house, as she was wont to do,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEnjoying love and honest reputation130\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs much as any in the Trojan nation;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut if she children had, I do not know,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI have not heard, and therefore let it go.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe fates of war were there exemplified\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBetween the Trojan and the Grecian forces,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor one day those of Troy were sorely tried,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut next the Greeks, for all their great resources,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMust yield; for Fortune hath uncertain courses,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd now her wheel goes up, and now goes down,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd now she wears a smile and now a frown140\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut how this town came to its final end\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIs not my purpose at this time to tell,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor much too far that lengthy tale would bend\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMe from my point, and weary you as well;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut all the Trojan deeds, as there they fell,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDo Homer, Dares and Dictys all narrate,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor future time to read and contemplate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow though the Greeks the Trojan city hold,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEmprisoned by a siege set all around,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Trojans still observe their customs old,150\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHonoring their gods with worshipping profound;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd of their relics one the most renowned\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWas called Palladion, to which they prayed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn trust of heaven's protection and of aid.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd so it chanced when April heralds Spring,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd clothes the meadows with new pleasant green,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd when fresh flowers, white and red, now bring\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOnce more their fragrances so pure and clean,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe throngs of Trojan folk might then be seen,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll going forth Palladion's feast to hold,160\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAccording to their rites and customs old.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd to the temple in their very best,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe common folk came in from left and right,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd to Palladion themselves addressed;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd there came also many a lusty knight,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMany a lady fair and maiden bright,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll well arrayed, from greatest unto least,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn honor of the season and the feast.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAmong the folk was Cressida that day,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll clothed in black, in widow's proper wise,170\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet as the alphabet begins with A,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo stood her beauty peerless in men's eyes;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd all folk gazed at her in glad surprise,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo see in her how fair the fairest are,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd under inky cloud, so bright a star\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs was fair Cressida, so brightly shone\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer beauty there beneath her widow's weeds,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd yet she stood apart and all alone,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBehind the throng, which she but little heeds,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd by the door through which the crowd proceeds,180\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eQuite simply dressed, but with the sprightly air\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf one who of herself can take good care.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow Troilus, the leader of a band\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf youthful knights, went with them up and down\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn this great temple, where on every hand\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey eyed the beauties of the Trojan town;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor Troilus prized neither smile nor frown\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf one particular, and fancy free,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe praised or criticized impartially.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd as he roamed about, he kept an eye190\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn all the members of his retinue,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd if some knight or squire heaved a sigh,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOr longing glances towards some maiden threw,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen he would smile and make a great ado,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd twit him thus, \"God knows she sleepeth blithe,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor all of thee, though thou shalt twist and writhe!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"The fashion of you lovers I have heard,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd heard of all your foolish gaits and ways,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd what great toils to win love are incurred,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn keeping it, what dangers and dismays,200\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor when your prey is lost, come woful days!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat fools ye be, and in your folly blind,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho can no lesson in each other find.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd with that word he lifteth up his brows,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs one should say, \"Now is not this well spoken!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd straight these vaunts the God of Love arouse\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo wrath, of which he gives a dreadful token,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor now he shows his bow is far from broken,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd suddenly he hits him fair and full,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd all such peacocks' feathers he can pull.210\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eO world so blind! O blind all man's contriving!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow often things fall out in ways contrary,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThrough vain presumption and conceited striving!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe proud and humble both are caught unwary,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor Troilus, who now mounts up so airy,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHath little thought of afterward descending;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut folly oft hath unexpected ending.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs Bayard, when he feels his oats, grows proud,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd dances and skips out of the travelled way,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUntil the lash upon his flank cracks loud,220\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Although I prance here first,\" he then doth say,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A leader in the trace, and fat and gay,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet am I but a horse, and by the law\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor horses made, I still must pull and draw.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo fared it with this rash and hardy knight,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho was a king's son of most high degree,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor though he thought that nothing had the might\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo curb the heart of such a one as he,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet with a look, no longer was he free,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd he who stood but now in pride above230\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll men, at once was subject most to Love.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd now I bid you profit by this man,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYe worthy folk, and wise and proud withal,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd scorn not Love, he who so lightly can\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe freedom of rebellious hearts enthral;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor still the common fate on you must fall,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat love, at nature's very heart indwelling,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShall bind all things by nature's might compelling.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat this is true hath oftentimes been proved,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor well you know, and in wise books may read,240\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat men of greatest worth have deepest loved,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd none so powerful in word or deed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut he the greater power of love must heed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor all his fame or high nobility;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThus hath it been and ever shall it be!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd fitting is it that it should be so,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor wisest men have most with love been pleased,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd those that dwelt in sorrow and in woe,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy love have often been consoled and eased,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd cruel wrath by love hath been appeased;250\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor love lends lustre to an honorable name,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd saves mankind from wickedness and shame.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd since you may not justly love deny,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen take it as a virtue of the mind,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDelay not long with loving to comply,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor love at last must all constrain and bind;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd better the rod that bends, by force inclined,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThan one that breaks; and therefore pray take heed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo follow love, that best can guide and lead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut now to leave attendant thoughts withal,260\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd come to Priam's son, of whom I told,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd passing by all things collateral,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy proper tale hereafter I shall hold,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBoth of his joy and of his cares so cold,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd all the business of this sad affair,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs I began, I shall to you declare.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWithin the fane this knight his wit displayed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWandering at will and scattering jokes about,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd idly here, now there, his gazing strayed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn ladies of the town and from without;270\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd thus his roving eye, by chance no doubt,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePassed o'er the crowd and reached the very spot\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhere Cressida stood, and then no further got.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd suddenly amazement came unbidden,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs more intent he bent on her his eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"O Jupiter,\" he thought, \"where has she hidden,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhose beauty, shining bright, revealed now lies?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd then his heart began to swell and rise,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut sighing soft that not a soul could hear,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe straight again began to laugh and jeer.280\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAmong the small, this lady seemed not small,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe had a figure of proportioned kind,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet not the slightest mannish or too tall,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor nature had her frame so well designed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd all her motions showed so well her mind,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat men could tell, in such there would reside\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHonor and dignity and woman's pride.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd Troilus, the more he saw, the more\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWas pleased with all her form and features clear,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut still she kept her eyes upon the floor,290\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eExcept she let one scornful glance appear,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs much as \"Well, why shouldn't I stand here?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut soon her eyes again grew soft and bright,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhich seemed to Troilus a goodly sight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e From eyes to heart in Troilus there passed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo great a longing, through this vision bred,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat in his deepest soul, fixed firm and fast,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis lady's image love did now imbed;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd he who once had held so high his head,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMust now draw in his horns and hold him low,300\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs one who knows not where to turn or go.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLo, he who ne'er before had known defeat,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd scorned all who in Love's dominion lie,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe little was aware that love its seat\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHath in the glance and beaming of the eye;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet suddenly he felt within him die\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll haughtiness of heart, by looking hurt,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd bless'd be love, which can men thus convert!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThus still he stood, where he could well behold\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis one in black, who hath his heart enchained,310\"Chaucer's greatest poem.\" --C. 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