About the Work
Troilus and Criseyde is a narrative poem by Geoffrey Chaucer, written in Middle English and set against the backdrop of the Trojan War. The work is structured in five books and follows the tragic love story of Troilus, a Trojan prince, and Criseyde, a widow whose father has defected to the Greek camp. The poem is a courtly romance that blends classical legend with medieval chivalric and philosophical concerns, drawing on the conventions of the romance genre while also engaging with questions of fate, fortune, and human agency.
The narrative is told by a narrator who frequently intervenes, addressing the audience directly, invoking the muses and classical deities, and lamenting the sorrowful turn of events. The poem’s setting is ancient Troy, but its emotional and moral landscape is thoroughly medieval, reflecting the values, social codes, and literary traditions of Chaucer’s own time. The work is notable for its psychological depth, particularly in its portrayal of the lovers’ inner lives, their doubts, fears, and hopes, as well as for its sophisticated handling of the themes of love, loyalty, and betrayal.
The poem opens with an invocation and a prologue that establishes the narrator’s intention to tell a tragic tale of love, and it proceeds through the courtship of Troilus and Criseyde, their union, and ultimately their separation and Criseyde’s infidelity. The work concludes with Troilus’s death in battle and his ascent to the eighth sphere, where he looks down upon the world and laughs at the vanity of earthly pursuits. The poem is a meditation on the transience of worldly joy and the futility of human striving in the face of fate and fortune.
Context
The poem is set during the Trojan War, a conflict that had been a central subject of classical and medieval literature for centuries. The story of Troilus and Criseyde was not original to Chaucer; it had been told by earlier writers, including the Roman poet Ovid and the medieval Italian author Boccaccio, whose Il Filostrato is a direct source for Chaucer’s work. Chaucer adapts and expands upon this material, infusing it with his own sensibility and concerns.
The historical and cultural context of the poem is the late medieval period, a time when courtly love conventions were highly influential in European literature. The poem reflects the values of chivalry, honor, and courtly behavior, while also questioning some of the assumptions underlying these ideals. The figure of Pandarus, for example, is a complex and morally ambiguous character who acts as an intermediary between the lovers, and his role raises questions about the ethics of such mediation.
The poem also engages with contemporary philosophical and theological debates, particularly those concerning fate, free will, and the role of fortune in human affairs. The narrator frequently invokes classical deities and mythological figures, but these invocations are often framed within a Christian worldview, creating a tension between pagan and Christian perspectives. The poem’s treatment of love, in particular, reflects both the idealized, almost religious devotion of courtly love and a more skeptical, worldly awareness of love’s fragility and the dangers of passion.
The work is also situated within the broader tradition of medieval Troy narratives, which often used the fall of Troy as a moral exemplum about the consequences of pride, passion, and betrayal. Chaucer’s poem, however, is less concerned with the grand sweep of history than with the intimate drama of individual lives caught up in larger forces beyond their control.
Structure of the Book
The poem is divided into five books, each with its own prologue or invocation. The structure follows the arc of the love affair from its inception to its tragic conclusion.
Book I introduces Troilus, a Trojan prince who is initially scornful of love, and describes how he falls suddenly and irrevocably in love with Criseyde after seeing her in the temple. The book establishes the central characters and the circumstances that will shape their relationship, including Criseyde’s precarious position as the daughter of Calkas, a Trojan priest who has defected to the Greeks. The book also introduces Pandarus, Criseyde’s uncle, who becomes the lovers’ intermediary and chief advocate.
Book II focuses on Pandarus’s efforts to win Criseyde’s affection for Troilus. He approaches her with a carefully crafted appeal, praising Troilus’s virtues and urging her to look favorably upon him. Criseyde is initially resistant, but she is gradually persuaded, and the book ends with the first steps toward their union. The book also includes the subplot involving Deiphebus, Troilus’s brother, and the false claimant Poliphete, which provides the occasion for the lovers to be brought together.
Book III is the climax of the poem, describing the consummation of the lovers’ relationship. The book opens with an invocation to Venus, the goddess of love, and proceeds through a series of scenes in which Pandarus arranges for the lovers to meet. The night they spend together is described in detail, with the narrator emphasizing the intensity of their joy and the depth of their mutual devotion. The book ends with the lovers’ happiness at its height, but also with hints of the sorrow to come.
Book IV marks the turning point of the poem. The Greeks capture Antenor, and Calkas, now serving the Greeks, demands that Criseyde be exchanged for him. Despite Hector’s opposition, the Trojan parliament agrees to the exchange. Troilus is devastated, and the book is largely occupied with his lamentations and his attempts to find a way to prevent the separation. Pandarus advises him to forget Criseyde, but Troilus refuses, and the book ends with the lovers’ final meeting, in which they debate whether to flee together or to accept their fate.
Book V describes the lovers’ separation and its aftermath. Criseyde is taken to the Greek camp, where she is courted by Diomede, a Greek warrior. Troilus remains in Troy, waiting for her promised return, but she does not come. His despair deepens, and he eventually learns of her betrayal through a dream that is interpreted by his sister Cassandre. The book concludes with Troilus’s death in battle and his ascent to the eighth sphere, where he looks down upon the world and reflects on the vanity of earthly life.
Detailed Section-by-Section Summary
Pandarus Reveals Troilus’s Love
Pandarus continues his address to Criseyde, observing her closely. She notices his gaze and asks why he examines her so intently, questioning if he has never seen her before. Pandarus replies that he has, but asserts he will know her better before leaving. He states that if she is fortunate, it will soon be seen, for every person is shaped for some good adventure if they can receive it; if one wilfully ignores it, neither chance nor fortune deceives them, but their own sloth and wretchedness, and such a person is to blame. He tells her she has lightly found good adventure and should catch it at once, lest it slacken. He asks for her hand, saying no one in the world would be so well-off as she, if she wishes.
He swears by all his oaths that he speaks with good intention, loving her honour and renown as much as any creature born, and that if she is angry or thinks he lies, he will never see her again. He urges her not to be afraid or change colour, for the worst of this is done; though his tale is new to her, she should trust he will be true, and he would not bring her any unsuitable tale. Criseyde asks him, as her good uncle, to come out with it and tell her what it is, for she is both afraid of what he will say and longs to know it. She begs him to speak so she does not dwell in fear.
Pandarus then reveals that the king’s dear son, the good, wise, worthy, fresh, and free Troilus, whose custom is always to do well, loves her so much that unless she helps, it will be his bane. He says that is all, and she may do as she likes to make him live or die. He declares that if she lets him die, he (Pandarus) will die too, giving his troth; he would cut his throat with a knife. Tears burst from his eyes as he says that if she kills them both, guiltless, she has fished fairly, and asks what she would gain by their ruin. He laments that his dear lord, a true man and noble gentle knight who desires only her friendly cheer, is hastening to be slain, and he sees him die upright if fortune assents. He curses the beauty God sent her if she is so cruel she cares no more for his death than for a jester’s or wretch’s.
He pronounces woe on the fair gem without virtue, the herb that does no good, the beauty that is pitiless, and the person who treads all underfoot. If she, who is the crop and root of beauty, has no ruth, it is harm she lives. He insists this is no trick; he would rather be hanged with her and Troilus than be his bawd. He is her uncle, and the shame would be his as well as hers if he abetted Troilus in shaming her honour. He clarifies he does not require her to bind herself to Troilus through any promise, but only that she make him better cheer and more festivity than before, so his life is saved. He swears by God he never meant anything else.
He argues the request is only reasonable; if she fears men will wonder seeing him come or go, he answers that every person not a natural fool will deem it love of friendship. He uses the analogy of a man going to temple—who would think he eats the images? He notes Troilus governs himself so well that he gets praise and thanks wherever he comes, and since he will come so seldom, what does it matter if the whole town beholds? He says such love of friends reigns all over town, and she should wrap herself in that mantle. He advises her to let her disdain be sweetened a little so she is not blamed for his death.
Criseyde’s Lament and Reluctant Consideration
Criseyde, hearing him, thinks she will feel out what he means. She asks his advice on what to do. He says the best is that she love him again for his loving, as love for love is skilful guerdoning. He reminds her that age wastes a part of beauty every hour, so before age devours her, she should go love, for when old, no one will want her. He quotes the proverb, “Too late aware, said Beauty, when it passed,” and says elde daunts daunger at the last. He mentions the king’s fool is wont to cry loudly to a woman who bears herself high, wishing her long life and pride until crow’s feet grow under her eyes, and then sending her a mirror to pry in. He bids her no more sorrow.
Pandarus stops and casts down his head. Criseyde begins to weep and cries out that she wishes she were dead, for the faith of the world is gone. She laments that he whom she thought her best friend advises her to love, when he should defend her from it. She says she would have trusted that if she had loved him, Achilles, Hector, or any man’s creature, he would have had no mercy on her but always reproved her. She asks who can believe this false world. She questions if this is all the joy and feste, his reed, her blissful case, the very meed of his behest, and all this painted process—for this end? She calls on Pallas to provide for her in this dreadful case, for she is so astonished she dies. She sighs sorrowfully. Pandarus asks if it may be no better, swearing by his oath.
Pandarus Reports to Troilus; The Letter and the Plot
Pandarus tells Troilus he has won Criseyde’s friendship and her pledged faith, so a foot of Troilus’s sorrow is cut off. Troilus, like flowers closing at night that reopen in sunlight, praises Venus and thanks Pandarus, declaring himself whole and his bonds broken. He asks how he shall live until he sees her; Pandarus advises patience, promising to go to her at prime. He suggests Troilus write a letter, which Pandarus will deliver; Troilus should then ride past the window where they will be sitting, salute them, and not tarry. Pandarus advises the letter be simple, not over-crafted, blotted with tears, and not repetitive, comparing over-repetition to a harper striking one string. Troilus fears shame and refusal; Pandarus insists, and Troilus agrees, praying to Minerva for wit.
Troilus writes, calling Criseyde his lady, begging pardon, confessing his unworthiness, telling his endless woe, sealing it with his signet, and kissing it. Pandarus takes it to Criseyde, joking about his “joly wo.” He claims a Greek spy has come to town and leads her to the garden, where he gives her the letter. She refuses it, citing her estate; Pandarus thrusts it into her bosom. She later reads it privately, finds no fault, and dines. Pandarus, at the window, asks her opinion; she blushes, then writes a reply thanking him but only as a sister. Troilus rides by; Criseyde is moved by his appearance and feels pity. Pandarus urges her to speak with him, but she intends to love him unseen. Pandarus resolves otherwise.
He tells Troilus he has arranged help via Deiphebus, Troilus’s best-loved brother. Pandarus tells Deiphebus that Criseyde is threatened by a false claimant, Poliphete, and asks his aid; Deiphebus agrees, suggesting involving Helen and Hector. Pandarus tells Criseyde that Poliphete plots against her, but that Deiphebus and Hector are now her foes’ foes. Deiphebus invites her to dinner. Pandarus instructs Troilus to feign illness and stay at Deiphebus’s house. At dinner, Helen and Criseyde attend; all praise Troilus. Pandarus proposes Criseyde tell Troilus her case; he enters Troilus’s room, saying he has brought his “bere” (bier).
The Meeting at Deiphebus’s House
Troilus smiles at Pandarus’s words. Pandarus, without delay, goes out to Eleyne and Deiphebus, telling them that if there is no delay or too large a crowd, Troilus is willing for them to bring Criseyde, his lady, to him. Pandarus warns them the chamber is small and few people can warm it, asking them to decide whether she should wait until later, as he wants no blame for harming Troilus. He advises that only the two of them and himself should enter, so he can rehearse her case better than she can; afterward she may briefly ask Troilus to be a good lord and take her leave. He adds that since she is a stranger, Troilus will forbear his ease, and that Troilus will tell him other secret matters for the town’s profit. They, knowing nothing of his intent, go in to Troilus.
Eleyne salutes Troilus in her gentle, womanly way, saying he must always rise, and prays he be whole, laying her arm over his shoulder to comfort him. She then beseeches him, along with Deiphebus and Pandarus, to be a good lord and friend to Criseyde, who receives wrong, as Pandarus can declare. Pandarus sharpens his tongue and rehearses her case. Troilus says that as soon as he can go, he will gladly sustain her cause. Pandarus asks if she may take her leave before going; Troilus agrees, then asks Deiphebus and his sister to advise him on another matter, producing at his bed’s head a copy of a treatise and a letter that Ector had sent him asking whether a certain man was worthy of death. Deiphebus and Eleyne read the letter earnestly, going down a stair into a green garden, and pore over it for about an hour.
The narrative turns to Pandarus, who goes into the great chamber and tells Criseyde that Queen Eleyne and his two lords await her. He tells her to rise, taking her niece Antigone or whom she likes, and to thank them humbly and take her leave. Innocent of his intent, Criseyde goes with him arm in arm. Pandarus asks everyone to stay and be quiet, then speaks to Criseyde privately, conjuring her by God and the virtue of two crowns not to slay the man who suffers for her. He urges her to think who he is and his plight, saying lost time is not lost if they become one, and that no one yet divines about them; while folk are blinded, time is won. He warns that in tittering and delays, people divine at the wagging of a straw, and that afterward they dare not for fear of what “she and she” said or “thus looked he and he.”
The narrator addresses lovers, asking whether Troilus was not in a “cankedort” (perplexity), lying and hearing their whispering, thinking his lot is to die or have comfort, and it being the first time he must pray to her for love.
The Prohemium to Book III and Troilus’s First Words
Book II ends. The prohemium to Book III invokes the “blisful light” (Venus), Jove’s daughter, cause of health and gladness, whose might is felt in heaven, hell, earth, and sea, by man, bird, beast, fish, herb, and tree. It says Jove was made amorous on mortal things and sent down in a thousand forms for love; Venus appeases fierce Mars, makes hearts digne, holds reign and house in unity, is the cause of friendship, and knows the hidden quality of why she loves him or he loves her. The narrator asks Venus to teach him to devise some joy of her service, and calls on Caliope, for he must tell the gladness of Troilus to Venus’s praise.
Troilus lies recording his lesson, thinking how he will speak and plead to his lady. His heart quakes hearing her come. Pandarus leads her by the lap, peeks in at the curtain, and says God help all sick folk, here is she who is your death to blame, seeming almost to weep. Troilus asks who is there; Criseyde says it is Pandare and she. He says he cannot rise to kneel. She lays her hands softly on him, telling him not to do so, saying she comes for two causes: to thank him and beseech continuance of his lordship. Troilus, hearing her pray for lordship, grows neither quick nor dead, cannot speak for shame, and blushes suddenly; his lesson runs out of his wit. Criseyde spies this, is wise, and loves him nonetheless. In a changed, quaking voice, with downcast look, his first words are twice “Mercy, mercy, swete herte!” Then he says he has faithfully been hers and shall be till buried, and though he dare not complain, he suffers no less pain. He says if this displeases her, he will wreak it on his own life to ease her heart. Pandarus weeps as if he would turn to water, pokes his niece, and says true hearts are woebegone; for love of God, make an end, or slay them both. Criseyde asks what he wants her to say; Pandarus says she should have routhe on him. She says she would pray him to tell her the end of his intent, for she never knew what he meant. Troilus explains he means that with the streams of her clear eyes she would sometimes look friendly on him, and agree that he may be her true servant, with her as his lady and chief resort, under her “yerde” (rule).
The Rain, the Night, and the Secret Passage
Pandarus whispers to Criseyde and falsely swears Troilus is out of town, suggesting that even if he were present, she need not fear. The narrator declines to fully reveal her thoughts upon hearing this, but she agrees to go with Pandarus, obeying him as her uncle. She asks him to be wary of gossip and to consider whom he brings there, trusting him entirely. Pandarus swears by stocks, stones, and the gods, or else wishes to be as deep in hell with Pluto as Tantalus. He leaves, and she comes to supper with her own men, her niece Antigone, and nine or ten other women. Troilus, hidden since midnight in a little room (a “stewe”) behind a small window, sees her arrive. Pandarus embraces her, and they sit to supper. After supper, they rise at ease; Troilus sings, she plays, he tells the tale of Wade. She then takes her leave to go home.
The narrator invokes Fortune, executrix of destinies, and the high heavens’ influences, noting that though causes are hidden from beasts, she began to hurry homeward, but it was executed against her will by the gods’ will, so she had to remain. The bent moon with pale horns, Saturn, and Jupiter were joined in Cancer, causing such a smoky rain that every woman there feared it. Pandarus laughs and says it is time for a lady to go, but begs her to stay the night, as it is her own house, and leaving would shame him. Criseyde, knowing good, heeds his prayer; since it rains and floods, she thinks she may as well dwell here and grant it gladly with a friend’s cheer, gaining thanks rather than grudging and then staying. She agrees, saying she was only joking about going. Pandarus is glad.
Pandarus, wishing to hasten her to bed, remarks on the huge rain and suggests they sleep. He proposes she sleep in his little closet, with her women in the middle chamber, and he will be warden of her women in the outer house. The drink is finished, the traverse drawn, and everyone leaves the chamber; the rain and wind are so loud that no one can hear another. Pandarus brings her to her bedside, bows low, and tells her her women lie just outside the closet door, so she may call any of them. Once she is in the closet and her women are abed, all are ordered to sleep. Pandarus, who knows the old dance well, unpins the stewe-door softly and sits down by Troilus, telling him to make ready, for he shall go to heavenly bliss. Troilus prays to Venus for grace, saying he never had such need or half the dread. Pandarus tells him not to fear, for it shall be as he desires, or he will cast all the gruel in the fire. Troilus again prays to Venus, asking her to inspire him, and if he had bad aspects of Mars or Saturn, or was combust or let in his birth, to pray her father to turn that harm aside, for love of Adonis, slain by the boar. He also prays to Jove for love of Europa, to Mars for love of Cipris, to Phebus for love of Daphne, to Mercury for love of Hierse, to Diana, and to the fatal sisters who spun his destiny, to help this work begun. Pandarus calls him a wretched mouse’s heart, tells him to put on his furred cloak and follow, and he will take the blame. He undoes a trap-door and brings Troilus in by the lap. The wind roars so loudly that no one can hear other noise; those lying at the door sleep securely. Pandarus, with sober cheer, goes to the door and shuts it softly. As he returns, his niece awakes and asks who goes there. He says it is he, tells her not to wonder or fear, and whispers in her ear to say no word and let no one rise to hear their speech. She asks how he came thus unseen by all. He says through this secret trap-door. She asks to call someone. He forbids it, saying it would be folly; they might imagine things they never thought. He says it is not good to wake a sleeping hound, her women all sleep, and he will leave unseen as he came.
Pandarus’s Scheme and Criseyde’s Distress
Pandarus then explains that women who hold a man in love, call him “leef” and “dere herte,” and make him a fool’s hood while loving another, do themselves shame and him a guile. He reminds her that her love is fully granted to Troilus, the worthiest knight, and she has pledged troth never to falsen him. He reveals that Troilus, since he left her, has come through a gutter by a privy passage into his chamber in all this rain, unseen by everyone but himself, and he swears by his faith to Priam of Troy. Troilus is in such pain and distress that unless he is already fully mad, he will suddenly fall into madness unless God helps; a friend told him she would love one named Horaste, and for sorrow this night shall be his last. Criseyde, hearing this wonder, grows cold about her heart and answers sorrowfully that she thought her dear heart would not hold her so lightly false; wrong conceits do harm. She denies knowing Horaste, asks what wicked spirit told him this, and says she will excuse herself fully tomorrow. She laments worldly happiness, which clerks call false felicity, mixed with bitterness; the condition of vain prosperity is anguished, for joys come not together, or no one has them always.
The Lovers’ First Night and Its Aftermath
Troilus, overcome with joy, strokes Criseyde’s body and kisses her a thousand times, praising Love, Charity, Venus, and Hymen for his bliss. He reflects that those who dishonor Love will find their desires fleeting, and that his own undeserved grace proves mercy surpasses merit. He pledges to be her true and diligent knight, offering to be slain if he breaks her defense, and she welcomes him as “my knight, my pees, my suffisaunce.” They spend the night between dread and security, fearing it is all a dream and repeatedly asking if they truly embrace. Troilus kisses her eyes, calling them “humble nettes” that bound him, and they exchange rings; she gives him a gold-and-azure brooch set with a ruby like a heart, which he pins on his shirt. The narrator contrasts their joy with misers who despise love, invoking Midas and Crassus as warnings, and the lovers recall their first meeting and past woes, now turned to gladness.
The Dawn Parting and Pandarus’s Counsel
At dawn, Criseyde laments the parting, cursing the night for fleeing too soon and wishing it would linger as when Almena lay with Jove. Troilus curses the day as a “traytour” and chides Tytan the sun for rising, fearing his heart will break. Criseyde swears Phebus will fall from his sphere and eagles befriend doves before Troilus leaves her heart, and she begs him to be true. They part reluctantly; Troilus returns to his palace, sleepless, replaying her words, while Criseyde treasures his memory. Pandarus visits Criseyde, teasingly claiming the rain kept him awake; she calls him a “fox,” hides her face, and he kisses her after jesting about a sword. Troilus sends for Pandarus, thanks him profusely, declaring he has been brought from hell to heaven. Pandarus warns him that remembering past prosperity is the worst misfortune, advising him to guard his speech and desire, as worldly joy is fragile. Troilus assures him he will not err, and they meet again; Pandarus brings them to bed, and their joy surpasses description. At another dawn, Troilus curses the sun’s horses for hastening day.
Fortune Turns: The Parliament and the Exchange
The narrator’s heart bleeds as he must tell how Criseyde forsook Troilus, invoking the Furies and Mars. In Book IV, Hector fights the Greeks; Troy is defeated, and Antenor is captured along with others. A truce is made for prisoner exchange, and Calkas, a Trojan turned Greek, pleads before the Greek lords for his daughter Criseyde’s return, offering a Trojan prisoner in exchange. Calkas claims Apollo and astronomy have told him Troy will burn, saying Phoebus and Neptunus are angry with the Trojans because King Lameadoun refused to pay them their hire. Weeping, he begs the Greeks for aid, and they give him Antenor as a prisoner. Calkas immediately arranges for ambassadors to go to Troy to exchange Antenor for Criseyde and King Toas. King Pryam calls a parliament, which agrees to the exchange.
Troilus’s Grief and Pandare’s Counsel
Troilus is present and nearly dies of grief when Criseyde is demanded for Antenor, but he hides his feelings. He deliberates whether to oppose the exchange, but reason tells him not to act without Criseyde’s consent, lest he reveal their love. He decides to let the lords decide and tell Criseyde first. Ector resists the exchange, saying “she nis no prisoner” and “We usen here no wommen for to selle,” but the people’s noise rises like fire, and they demand Antenor, calling him wise and bold. The narrator invokes Juvenal, noting people do not know what to wish for; the folk desire Antenor, who will later be a traitor to Troy. The parliament, despite Ector’s pleas, pronounces the exchange. Troilus retreats to his chamber, locks the doors, and rages like a wounded bull, striking himself. He curses Fortune, bemoans his loss, and curses Calkas for being a Greek though born Trojan, falling into a swoon. Pandare, having heard the parliament, comes to Troilus, weeps, then advises him to forget Criseyde, citing that new love chases out old and that Fortune’s gifts are common. Troilus rejects this, saying he will be true to Criseyde until death, and accuses Pandare of arguing falsely. Pandare urges Troilus to act like a man, to “ravisshe” Criseyde or hold her still, but Troilus refuses to ravish her without her consent, fearing for her honour and his father’s displeasure. Pandare then advises him to wash his face, go to the king, and let Pandare arrange a private meeting with Criseyde that night.
Criseyde’s Grief and the Lovers’ Final Debate
Fame spreads the news of the exchange. Criseyde, hearing it, prays for misfortune on the treaty’s bringers. She is torn by love and dread. Women visit her, thinking she weeps at leaving them, but she weeps for Troilus. She laments her fate, curses her father Calkas and her mother Argyve, and vows to die by fasting if sorrow does not kill her. She plans to wear black and bequeaths her heart to Troilus, hoping to meet him in Elysos like Orpheus and Erudice. Troilus begs Criseyde not to leave, warning she will prefer the worthy Greek knights and forget the Trojans. He argues they should steal away together, saying it is folly to risk a certainty for an uncertain outcome. Criseyde swears by Juno, the gods, goddesses, nymphs, and infernal deities—and by the river Simoys—that she will never be false to him, calling for eternal torment in Styx if she breaks her vow. She refuses to flee, citing Troy’s need of him, the danger to his honor and her reputation, and the shame if peace later came. She urges patience, quoting proverbs: “The suffraunt overcometh” and “Who-so wol han leef, he lief mot lete.” She promises to return by the tenth day, when the moon leaves Aries. Troilus reluctantly consents to wait until the tenth day but still urges secret flight. Criseyde chides his mistrust, swears her love, and asks him to be cheerful before she departs. After long embraces and kisses, Troilus leaves at dawn, his grief described as beyond human telling.
Book V: The Parting and Diomede’s Courtship
Book V opens with Criseyde leaving Troy; Troilus hides his sorrow. He watches her ride out with Diomede, who takes her bridle. Troilus restrains himself from violence, fearing Criseyde might be killed in a tumult. Diomede offers friendship and service, claims to have never loved before, and asks her to treat him as a brother. Criseyde, distracted by grief, barely answers but thanks him. Upon arrival at Calchas’s tent, her father welcomes her with kisses, but she stands mute. Troilus returns home, curses the gods, and laments in bed, describing dreams of horror and waking in terror. Pandarus dismisses dreams as folly, citing conflicting theories of divine revelation, illusions, humors, impressions, and seasons, and urges Troilus to rise and visit King Sarpedon to pass the ten days. Despite lavish entertainment at Sarpedon’s feast, Troilus finds no joy, thinking only of Criseyde.
The Broken Promise and the Dream of the Boar
Troilus agrees with Pandarus that his joy seems sudden, but insists it is not without cause; he feels a comfort he has never felt since he was made, and wagers that his lady comes that night. Pandarus outwardly agrees with everything Troilus says, but inwardly laughs and thinks that what Troilus awaits will come from the “hasel-wode” where “Ioly Robin” played—i.e., nothing will come; he bids farewell to “al the snow of ferne yere.” The gate-warden calls in those outside the gates with their beasts, or they must stay out all night; Troilus, weeping, rides homeward, seeing that waiting helps nothing. He comforts himself by thinking he mis-counted the day, recalling Criseyde said she would be there, if she might, before the moon passed out of Aries through Leo. He goes to the gate next morning and paces the walls, but his hope deceives him; at night he returns home in sorrow. Hope leaves his heart; he thinks his heart bleeds from sharp pains, not knowing what to judge since she broke her promise. From the third to the sixth day after the ten days, his heart lies between hope and dread; when she does not keep her term, he sees no remedy but to prepare to die. The “wikked spirit” called “wode Ialousye” creeps into him; he neither eats nor drinks for melancholy and flees all company. He becomes so wasted that men barely know him; he is lean, pale, wan, and feeble, walking with a staff; he says his harm is all about his heart. Priam, his mother, brothers, and sisters ask why he is sorrowful, but he will not reveal the cause, only saying he feels a grievous malady about his heart and wishes to die.
The Dream Interpreted by Cassandre
Sleeping, Troilus dreams he walks weeping in a forest, seeking his lady, and sees a great-tusked boar sleeping in the sun, with Criseyde in its arms kissing it. He wakes with a cry, tells Pandarus he knows “crop and rote”—Criseyde has betrayed him; the gods have shown it in his dream. He laments Criseyde’s subtlety, asks what cause she has, and says he trusted her words as gospel; he asks who can betray better than one most trusted. He tells Pandarus he feels a new pain, that it were better to kill himself than complain; death would end his woe. Pandarus rebukes him, saying dreams deceive many because folk expound them amiss; the boar may signify Criseyde’s old, hoary father Calkas, lying in the sun near death, and Criseyde kissing him in sorrow. Troilus asks how to know the truth; Pandarus advises him to write a letter to Criseyde, since if she is untrue she will not write back, and if she writes, he will see whether she has liberty to come or assigns a cause for being delayed. Troilus writes a long letter to Criseyde, calling her “Right fresshe flour,” complaining of his unrelieved pain, his tears defacing the letter, begging her to look on it, noting she has tarried two months instead of ten days, and asking her to write back; he says his joy is turned to its contrary, and only her coming home can redress it; he asks for death or hope; he signs “Le vostre T.” Criseyde’s answer in effect: she will come as soon as she might and mend all that is amiss, but she does not know when; she swears she loves him best, but her promises are “botmelees.” Troilus’s woe increases; he stops eating, drinking, sleeping, and speaking, imagining she is unkind, and nearly goes out of his mind. The dream never leaves his memory; he believes Jove showed him her untruth in the figure of the boar.
Cassandre’s Revelation of Diomede
Troilus sends for his sister Sibille, also called Cassandre, tells her the dream, and asks her to resolve his doubt about the boar. Cassandre smiles and explains: Diana, angry that the Greeks would not sacrifice, sent a boar as great as an ox to devour their corn and vines; the country rose to kill it; a maiden came to see it, and Meleagre, lord of that country, loved her, slew the boar, and sent her the head; from this arose strife, and from Meleagre descended Tydeus. She tells how Tydeus went to Thebes to claim the kingdom for his fellow Polynites against his brother Ethyocles, who wrongfully held Thebes; she recounts the seven kings besieging the city, the holy serpent, the furies, Archimoris’s burial and games, Amphiarax falling through the ground, Tydeus slain, Ypomedon drowned, Parthonope dead of wounds, Capaneus struck by thunder, the two brothers killing each other, and the burning of the town. She concludes: the boar betokens Diomede, Tydeus’s son, descended from Meleagre; Diomede has Criseyde’s heart, and she his; “This Diomede is inne, and thou art oute.” Troilus calls her a sorceress and false prophet, saying she might as well lie about Alceste, the kindest creature, who chose to die for her husband. Cassandre leaves, and Troilus forgets his woe.
Main Arguments
The poem makes several interrelated arguments about love, fortune, and human nature. One of its central claims is that love is a powerful and transformative force, capable of elevating individuals to heights of joy and devotion, but also of plunging them into depths of despair. Troilus’s love for Criseyde is portrayed as both a source of great happiness and the cause of his ultimate ruin. The poem suggests that love, while noble and worthy, is also fragile and subject to the whims of fortune.
Another argument concerns the role of fortune in human affairs. The narrator repeatedly emphasizes the instability of worldly happiness, noting that joy is fleeting and that those who are most fortunate are often the most vulnerable to reversal. Troilus’s rise to happiness and his subsequent fall are presented as examples of fortune’s fickleness. The poem suggests that human beings are largely at the mercy of forces beyond their control, and that even the most carefully planned schemes can be undone by chance or fate.
The poem also engages with questions of loyalty and betrayal. Criseyde’s decision to accept Diomede’s advances is portrayed as a betrayal of her promise to Troilus, and the poem explores the moral and emotional consequences of her actions. At the same time, the poem is sympathetic to Criseyde’s predicament, suggesting that her betrayal is not simply a matter of personal failing but is also the result of circumstances beyond her control. The poem thus complicates easy judgments about guilt and innocence.
Finally, the poem argues for the vanity of earthly pursuits. In the final book, Troilus, looking down from the eighth sphere, laughs at the sorrow and striving of the world below, recognizing that all human endeavors are ultimately meaningless in the face of death and the eternal. This perspective, which is both philosophical and religious, serves as a commentary on the entire narrative, suggesting that the love and suffering of the characters, however intense, are ultimately transient and insignificant.
Key Concepts
The poem is built around several key concepts that recur throughout the narrative. One of the most important is the idea of fortune, personified as a goddess who controls the rise and fall of human affairs. The narrator frequently invokes fortune, and Troilus’s own fortunes are depicted as being subject to her whims. The poem’s treatment of fortune reflects the medieval understanding of fortune as a force that is both arbitrary and inevitable, and it underscores the precariousness of human happiness.
Another key concept is courtly love, the medieval code of behavior that governed romantic relationships among the nobility. The poem both embraces and critiques this code. Troilus’s devotion to Criseyde follows many of the conventions of courtly love, including the idealization of the beloved, the suffering of the lover, and the importance of secrecy. However, the poem also exposes the limitations and dangers of this code, particularly in its treatment of Criseyde, whose agency is limited by the expectations placed upon her.
The concept of troth, or pledged faith, is also central to the poem. Troilus and Criseyde exchange vows of fidelity, and the poem explores the meaning and consequences of these vows. Criseyde’s breaking of her troth is the central tragedy of the poem, and the narrator’s treatment of this event is marked by both condemnation and sympathy. The concept of troth is closely linked to the poem’s broader concerns with loyalty, honor, and betrayal.
The poem also makes use of dreams and omens as a means of foreshadowing and interpretation. Troilus’s dream of the boar, which Cassandre interprets as a sign of Criseyde’s betrayal, is a key moment in the narrative. The dream serves as a warning that Troilus initially dismisses, and its interpretation highlights the tension between fate and free will. The poem’s treatment of dreams reflects medieval beliefs about the prophetic power of dreams, as well as the dangers of misinterpreting them.
Finally, the poem is concerned with the concept of the eighth sphere, the celestial realm to which Troilus ascends after his death. This concept, drawn from Ptolemaic cosmology, represents a perspective beyond the earthly world, from which the vanity of human affairs becomes apparent. Troilus’s ascent and his laughter at the world below serve as a final commentary on the themes of the poem, suggesting that true wisdom lies in recognizing the transience of earthly joys.
Themes
The poem explores a number of deep and recurring themes that give it its enduring power. One of the most prominent is the transience of joy. The lovers’ happiness is portrayed as intense but fleeting, and the poem emphasizes that even the greatest joys are subject to loss and decay. This theme is reinforced by the narrator’s frequent reflections on the instability of fortune and the inevitability of change.
Another major theme is the conflict between individual desire and social obligation. Troilus and Criseyde’s love is conducted in secret, in part because of the social and political pressures that surround them. Criseyde, in particular, is caught between her love for Troilus and her duty to her father, who has defected to the Greeks. The poem explores the tension between personal happiness and public responsibility, and it suggests that this tension is ultimately unresolvable.
The theme of betrayal and trust is also central to the poem. Criseyde’s betrayal of Troilus is the pivotal event of the narrative, and the poem examines the psychological and moral dimensions of her actions. Troilus’s trust in Criseyde is absolute, and his discovery of her infidelity is portrayed as a profound shock that destroys him. The poem suggests that trust is both essential to love and inherently fragile, and that betrayal is one of the most painful experiences a person can endure.
The poem also engages with the theme of fate versus free will. The narrator frequently invokes the gods and the stars, suggesting that the characters’ actions are determined by forces beyond their control. At the same time, the characters make choices that have significant consequences, and the poem explores the extent to which they are responsible for their own fates. This tension is never fully resolved, and it contributes to the poem’s sense of tragedy.
Finally, the poem is concerned with the theme of the vanity of earthly life. In the final book, Troilus’s ascent to the eighth sphere provides a perspective from which the struggles and sorrows of the world appear trivial and absurd. This theme is reinforced by the narrator’s reflections on the brevity of life and the inevitability of death. The poem suggests that true wisdom lies in recognizing the limitations of earthly existence and in seeking a higher, more enduring truth.
The Author’s Conclusions
The poem concludes with a powerful meditation on the vanity of earthly life and the importance of seeking a higher good. After Troilus’s death in battle, his soul ascends to the eighth sphere, where he looks down upon the world and laughs at the sorrow and striving of those below. This moment provides a final commentary on the events of the narrative, suggesting that the love and suffering of the characters, however intense, are ultimately transient and insignificant in the face of eternity.
The narrator’s final reflections reinforce this message, urging the audience to turn away from the fleeting pleasures of the world and to seek instead the enduring truth of divine love. The poem thus ends on a note of moral and spiritual instruction, suggesting that the tragedy of Troilus and Criseyde lies not only in their personal failings but also in their attachment to a world that is inherently unstable and impermanent.
At the same time, the poem’s conclusion is marked by a sense of compassion for the characters and their struggles. The narrator does not simply condemn Criseyde for her betrayal or Troilus for his despair; rather, he presents their story as a cautionary tale about the dangers of placing one’s hopes in worldly things. The poem’s final message is one of humility and resignation, acknowledging the limits of human understanding and the inevitability of loss.
Significance
Troilus and Criseyde is one of the most important works of medieval English literature, and it holds a significant place in the development of the English literary tradition. The poem is notable for its psychological depth, its sophisticated handling of complex themes, and its innovative use of narrative voice. Chaucer’s portrayal of the lovers’ inner lives, their doubts, fears, and hopes, is remarkably modern, and the poem’s exploration of love, betrayal, and the vicissitudes of fortune continues to resonate with readers today.
The poem is also significant for its engagement with classical and medieval literary traditions. Chaucer draws on a wide range of sources, including the works of Ovid, Virgil, and Boccaccio, and he adapts these sources to his own purposes, creating a work that is both deeply rooted in tradition and strikingly original. The poem’s treatment of courtly love, in particular, reflects and critiques the conventions of the genre, and it has been influential in shaping subsequent representations of love in English literature.
The poem’s philosophical and theological concerns also contribute to its significance. Chaucer’s exploration of fate, fortune, and the vanity of earthly life reflects the intellectual currents of his time, and the poem engages with questions that were central to medieval thought. The poem’s conclusion, with its vision of Troilus looking down from the eighth sphere, offers a perspective that is both deeply religious and profoundly skeptical, and it has been the subject of much critical interpretation.
Finally, Troilus and Criseyde is significant for its literary artistry. Chaucer’s use of language, his mastery of meter and rhyme, and his ability to create vivid and memorable characters have made the poem a enduring masterpiece of English literature. The poem’s blend of tragedy and comedy, its shifts in tone and register, and its complex narrative structure have made it a rich subject for scholarly study, and it continues to be read and admired for its beauty, its insight, and its emotional power.
