Troilus and Criseyde

Autor:

Produkt je dočasne nedostupný

25.43 €

bežná cena: 28.90 €

O knihe

Excerpt: ...me, that coude leest deserve Of hem that nombred been un-to thy grace, Hast holpen, ther I lykly was to sterve, 1270 And me bistowed in so heygh a place That thilke boundes may no blisse pace, I can no more, but laude and reverence Be to thy bounte and thyn excellence!' And therwith-al Criseyde anoon he kiste, 1275 Of which, certeyn, she felte no disese, And thus seyde he, Now wolde god I wiste, Myn herte swete, how I yow mighte plese! What man,' quod he, was ever thus at ese As I, on whiche the faireste and the beste 1280 That ever I say, deyneth hir herte reste. Here may men seen that mercy passeth right; The experience of that is felt in me, That am unworthy to so swete a wight. But herte myn, of your benignitee, 1285 So thenketh, though that I unworthy be, Yet mot I nede amenden in som wyse, Right thourgh the vertu of your heyghe servyse. And for the love of god, my lady dere, Sin god hath wrought me for I shal yow serve, 1290 As thus I mene, that ye wol be my stere, To do me live, if that yow liste, or sterve, So techeth me how that I may deserve Your thank, so that I, thurgh myn ignoraunce, Ne do no-thing that yow be displesaunce. 1295 For certes, fresshe wommanliche wyf, This dar I seye, that trouthe and diligence, That shal ye finden in me al my lyf, Ne wol not, certeyn, breken your defence; And if I do, present or in absence, 1300 For love of god, lat slee me with the dede, If that it lyke un-to your womanhede.' Y-wis,' quod she, myn owne hertes list, My ground of ese, and al myn herte dere, Graunt mercy, for on that is al my trist; 1305 But late us falle awey fro this matere; For it suffyseth, this that seyd is here. And at o word, with-outen repentaunce, Wel-come, my knight, my pees, my suffisaunce!' Of hir delyt, or Ioyes oon the leste 1310 Were impossible to my wit to seye; But iuggeth, ye that han ben at the feste, Of swich gladnesse, if that hem liste pleye! I can no more, but thus thise ilke tweye That night, be-twixen dreed and...