Cligés · 1914
Lines 3817–3864
Translated by W. W. Comfort (Everyman's Library, 1914)
Now bad luck had fallen to the duke, who was in great distress and grief. And Cligés takes back Fenice, whose love torments and troubles him. If he does not confess to her now, love will long be his enemy, and hers too, if she holds her peace and speaks not the word which will bring him joy; for now each can tell the other privily the thoughts that lie within the heart. But they so fear to be refused that they dare not reveal their hearts. For his part, he fears lest she will not accept his love, whereas she, too, would have spoken out had she not feared to be rejected. In spite of this, the eyes of each reveal the hidden thought, if only they had heeded this evidence. They converse by glance of eye, but their tongues are so cowardly that they dare not speak in any wise of the love which possesses them. No wonder if she hesitates to begin, for a maid must be a simple and shrinking thing; but he--why does he wait and hold back who was so bold for her just now, but now in her presence is cowardly? God! whence comes this fear, that he should shrink from a lonely girl, feeble and timid, simple and mild? It is as if I should see the dog flee before the hare, and the fish chase the beaver, the lamb the wolf, and the dove the eagle. In the same fashion the labourer would forsake his pick with which he strives to earn a livelihood, and the falcon would flee from the duck, and the gerfalcon from the heron, and the pike from the minnow, and the stag would chase the lion, and everything would be reversed. Now I feel within me the desire to give some reason why it should happen to true lovers that they lose their sense and boldness to say what they have in mind when they have leisure and place and time.
This translation is printed as prose in its source edition.
Cite this text
MLA
Troyes, Chrétien de. Cligés, Lines 3817–3864. Translated by W. W. Comfort. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/work/cliges-comfort/57/.
Chicago
Troyes, Chrétien de. Cligés, Lines 3817–3864. Translated by W. W. Comfort. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/work/cliges-comfort/57/.