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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507277" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Testament of Cressida (excerpt)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">...<br> Thus chydand with her drerie destenye,<br> Weiping, scho woik the nicht fra end to end;<br> Bot all in vane; hir dule, hir cairfull cry,<br> Micht not remeid, nor yit hir murning mend.<br> Ane lipper lady rais, and till hir wend,<br> And said, "Quhy spurnis thow aganis the wall,<br> To sla thyself, and mend nathing at all?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Sen thy weiping dowbillis bot thy wo,<br> I counsall the mak vertew of ane neid;<br> To leir to clap thy clapper to and fro,<br> And leir efter the law of lipper leid."<br> Thair was na buit, bot furth with thame scho yeid,<br> Fra place to place, quhill cauld and hounger sair<br> Compellit hir to be ane rank beggair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> That samin tyme of Troy the garnisoun,<br> Quhilk had to chiftane worthie Troylus,<br> Throw jeopardie of weir had strikken down<br> Knichtis of Grece in number marvellous:<br> With greit tryumphe and laude victorious<br> Agane to Troy richt royallie they raid,<br> The way quhair Cresseid with the lipper baid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Seing that companie, thai come all with ane stevin;<br> Thay gaif ane cry, and schuik coppis gude speid;<br> Said, "Worthie lordis, for Goddis lufe of hevin,<br> To us lipper part of your almous deid."<br> Than to thair cry nobill Troylus tuik heid,<br> Having pietie, neir by the place can pas<br> Quhair Cresseid sat, not witting quhat scho was.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Than upon him scho kest up baith her ene,<br> And with ane blenk it come into his thocht<br> That he sumtime hir face befoir had sene;<br> But scho was in sic plye he knew hir nocht;<br> Yit than hir luik into his mynd it brocht<br> The sweit visage and amorous blenking<br> Of fair Cresseid, sumtyme his awin darling.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Na wonder was, suppois in mynd that he<br> Tuik hir figure sa sone, and lo! now quhy!<br> The idole of ane thing in cace may be<br> Sa deip imprentit in the fantasy,<br> That it deludis the wittis outwardly,<br> And sa appeiris in forme and lyke estait<br> Within the mynd, as it was figurait.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Ane spark of lufe than till his hart culd spring,<br> And kendlit all his bodie in ane fyre,<br> With hait fevir ane sweit and trimbling<br> Him tuik, quhill he was reddie to expyre;<br> To beir his scheild his breist began to tyre;<br> Within ane quhyle he changit mony hew,<br> And, nevertheles, not ane ane uther knew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For knichtlie pietie and memoriall<br> Of fair Cresseid, ane gyrdill can he tak,<br> Ane purs of gold, and mony gay jowall,<br> And in the skirt of Cresseid doun can swak:<br> Than raid away, and not ane word he spak,<br> Pensive in hart, quhill he come to the toun,<br> And for greit cair oft syis almaist fell doun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The lipper folk to Cresseid than can draw,<br> To se the equall distributioun<br> Of the almous; but quhan the gold they saw,<br> Ilk ane to uther prevelie can roun,<br> And said, "Yone lord hes mair affectioun,<br> How ever it be, unto yone lazarous,<br> Than to us all; we knaw be his almous."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Quhat lord is yone," (quod scho), "have ye na feill,<br> Hes done to us so greit humanitie?"<br> "Yes," (quod a lipper man), "I knaw him weill;<br> Schir Troylus it is, gentill and fre."<br> Quhen Cresseid understude that it was he,<br> Stiffer than steill thair stert ane bitter stound<br> Throwout hir hart, and fell doun to the ground.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Quhen scho, ouircome with siching sair and sad,<br> With many cairfull cry and cald "Ochane!<br> Now is my breist with stormie stoundis stad,<br> Wrappit in wo, ane wretch full will of wane:"<br> Than swounit scho oft or scho culd refrane,<br> And ever in hir swouning cryit scho thus:<br> "O, fals Cresseid, and trew knicht Troylus!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Thy lufe, thy lawtie, and thy gentilnes<br> I countit small in my prosperitie;<br> Sa elevait I was in wantones,<br> And clam upon the fickill quheill sa hie;<br> All faith and lufe I promissit to the<br> Was in the self fickill and frivolous:<br> O, fals Cresseid, and trew knicht Troilus!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "For lufe of me thow keipt gude continence,<br> Honest and chaist in conversatioun;<br> Of all wemen protectour and defence<br> Thou was, and helpit thair opinioun:<br> My mynd in fleschelie foull affectioun<br> Was inclynit to lustis lecherous:<br> Fy, fals Cresseid! O, trew knicht Troylus!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Lovers, be war, and tak gude heid about<br> Quhome that ye lufe, for quhome ye suffer paine;<br> I lat yow wit, thair is richt few thairout<br> Quhome ye may traist to have trew lufe agane:<br> Preif quhen ye will, your labour is in vaine;<br> Thairfoir, I reid ye tak thame as ye find,<br> For thay ar sad as widdercock in wind,</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Becaus I knaw the greit unstabilnes,<br> Brukkil as glas, into my self, I say,<br> Traisting in uther als greit unfaithfulnes,<br> Als unconstant, and als untrew of fay;<br> Thocht sum be trew, I wait richt few are thay;<br> Quha findis treuth, lat him his lady ruse:<br> Nane but my self, as now, I will accuse."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Quhen this was said, with paper scho sat doun,<br> And on this maneir maid hir testament:<br> "Heir I beteiche my corps and carioun<br> With wormis and with taidis to be rent;<br> My cop and clapper, and myne ornament,<br> And all my gold, the lipper folk sall have,<br> Quhen I am deid, to burie me in grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "This royall ring, set with this rubie reid,<br> Quhilk Troylus in drowrie to me send,<br> To him agane I leif it quhan I am deid,<br> To mak my cairfull deid unto him kend:<br> Thus I conclude schortlie, and mak ane end;<br> My spreit I leif to Diane, quhair scho dwellis,<br> To walk with hir in waist woddis and wellis.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "O, Diomeid! thow hes baith broche and belt<br> Quhilk Troylus gave me in takning<br> Of his trew lufe,"--and with that word scho swelt;<br> And sone ane lipper man tuik of the ring,<br> Syne buryit hir withouttin tarying:<br> To Troylus furthwith the ring he bair,<br> And of Cresseid the deith he can declair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Quhen he had hard hir greit infirmitie,<br> Hir legacie and lamentatioun,<br> And how scho endit in sic povertie,<br> He swelt for wo, and fell doun in ane swoun;<br> For greit sorrow his hart to birst was boun:<br> Siching full sadlie, said, "I can no moir;<br> Scho was untrew, and wo is me thairfoir!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Sum said he maid ane tomb of merbell gray,<br> And wrait hir name and superscriptioun,<br> And laid it on hir grave, quhair that scho lay,<br> In goldin letteris, conteining this ressoun:<br> "Lo, fair ladyis, Cresseid of Troyis toun,<br> Sumtyme countit the flour of womanheid,<br> Under this stane, late lipper, lyis deid!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Now, worthie wemen, in this ballet schort,<br> Made for your worschip and instructioun,<br> Of cheritie I monische and exhort,<br> Ming not your lufe with fals deceptioun;<br> Beir in your mynd this schort conclusioun<br> Of fair Cresseid, as I have said befoir:<br> Sen scho is deid, I speik of hir no moir.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Henryson">Robert Henryson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507277" data-title="The Testament of Cressida (excerpt) de Robert Henryson" data-description="... Thus chydand with her drerie destenye, Weiping, scho woik the nicht fra end to end; Bot all in vane; hir dule, hir cairfull cry, Micht not remeid, nor yit hir murning mend. Ane lipper lady rais, and till hir wend, And said, "Quhy sp..."></div> </div> </div>
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