Chaucer's Works, Volume 3 — The House of Fame; The Legend of Good Women; The Treatise on the Astrolabe; The Sources of the Canterbury TalesChaucer, Geoffrey
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Chaucer's Works, Volume 3 — The House of Fame; The Legend of Good Women; The Treatise on the Astrolabe; The Sources of the Canterbury Tales
Chaucer, Geoffrey
English poetry -- Middle English, 1100-1500
And al is payed, what that he hath spent. 1125
Thus can this [noble] quene her gestes calle,
As she that can in freedom passen alle.
Eneas sothly eek, with-outen lees,
Hath sent un-to his shippe, by Achates,
After his sone, and after riche thinges, 1130
Both ceptre, clothes, broches, and eek ringes,
Som for to were, and som for to presente
To her, that all thise noble thinges him sente; (210)
And bad his sone, how that he sholde make
The presenting, and to the quene hit take. 1135
Repaired is this Achates again,
And Eneas ful blisful is and fain
To seen his yonge sone Ascanius.
But natheles, our autour telleth us,
That Cupido, that is the god of love, 1140
At preyere of his moder, hye above,
Hadde the lyknes of the child y-take,
This noble quene enamoured to make (220)
On Eneas; but, as of that scripture,
Be as be may, I make of hit no cure. 1145
But sooth is this, the quene hath mad swich chere
Un-to this child, that wonder is to here;
And of the present that his fader sente
She thanked him ful ofte, in good entente.
Thus is this quene in plesaunce and in Ioye, 1150
With al this newe lusty folk of Troye.
And of the dedes hath she more enquered
Of Eneas, and al the story lered (230)
Of Troye; and al the longe day they tweye
Entendeden to speken and to pleye; 1155
Of which ther gan to breden swich a fyr,
That sely Dido hath now swich desyr
With Eneas, her newe gest, to dele,
That she hath lost her hewe, and eek her hele.
Now to theffect, now to the fruit of al, 1160
Why I have told this story, and tellen shal.
Thus I beginne; hit fil, upon a night,
When that the mone up-reysed had her light, (240)
This noble quene un-to her reste wente;
She syketh sore, and gan her-self turmente. 1165
She waketh, walweth, maketh many a brayd,
As doon thise loveres, as I have herd sayd.
And at the laste, unto her suster Anne
She made her moon, and right thus spak she thanne.
'Now, dere suster myn, what may hit be 1170
That me agasteth in my dreme?' quod she.
'This ilke Troyan is so in my thoght,
For that me thinketh he is so wel y-wroght, (250)
And eek so lykly for to be a man,
And therwithal so mikel good he can, 1175
That al my love and lyf lyth in his cure.
Have ye not herd him telle his aventure?
Now certes, Anne, if that ye rede hit me,
I wolde fain to him y-wedded be;
This is theffect; what sholde I more seye? 1180
In him lyth al, to do me live or deye.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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