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Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
Pan. In good troth, it begins so.

Love, love, nothing but love, ftill more:
For O, love's bow
Shoots buck and doe;
The foaft confound's
Not that it wounds,
But tickles ftill the fore.
These lovers cry, oh! oh! they die :
Yet that, which fecins the wound to kill,
Doth turn, ob ! oh! to ha, ha, he :
So dying love lives fill.
O ho, a while ; but ha, ha, ha;

O ho groans out for ha, ha, bahey bo!
Helen. In love, i’faith, to the very tip of the nose!

Par. He eats nothing but doves, love, and that breeds hot blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds are love.

Pan. Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot thoughts, and hot deeds ? why, they are vipers ; is love a generation of vipers ? ---Sweet Lord, who's a-field to-day?

Par. Hector, Deipbobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy. I would fain have arm’d to-day, but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my brother Troilus went not?

Helen. He hangs the lip at something ; you know all, Lord Pandarus.

Pan. Not I, honey-sweet Queen : I long to hear how they sped to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse?

Par. To a hair.
Pan. Farewel, sweet Queen.
Helen. Commend me to your niece.
Pan. I will, sweet Queen. (Exit. Sound a Retreat.

Par. They're come from field ; let us to Priam's Halí,
To greet the warriorsSweet Helen, I must woo you
To help unarm our Hector : his stubborn buckles,
With these your white enchanting fingers toucht,
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Shall more obey, than to the edge of steel,
Or force of Griekisio finews : you shall do more
Than all the island Kings, difarm great Hector.

Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris:
Yea, what he thall receive of us in duty
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
Yea, over-thines ourself.

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. [Exeun t.
SCENE an Orchard to Pandarus's House.

Enter Pandarus, and Troilus's Man.
Pan. OW, where's thy master! at my cousin

Serv. No, Sir, he stays you to conduct him thither.

Enter Troilus.
Pan. O, here he comes; how now, how now?
Troi. Sirrah, walk off.
Pan. Have you seen my cousin ?

Troi: No, Pandarus : I stalk about her door,
Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me swift transportance to those fields,
Where I may wallow in the lily beds
Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And Ay with me to Cresid.
Pan. Walk here i'th orchard, I will bring her straight.

Exit Pandarus. Troi. I'm giddy; expectation whirls me round. Th’imaginary relish is so sweet, That it enchants my sense ; what will it be, When that the watry palates taste, indeed, Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me; Swooning destruction, or some joy too fine, Too subtle-potent, and too sharp in sweetness, For the capacity of my rude powers ; I fear it much, and I do fear besides, That I shall lose distinction in my joys;


As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The flying enemy.

Re-enter Pandarus. Pan. She's making her ready, she'll come straight; you must be witty now. She does so bluh, and fetches her wind so short, as if she were fraid with a sprite : I'll bring her. It is the prettiest villain, the fetches her breath as short as a new-ta’en sparrow.

[Exit Pandarus. Troi. Ev'n such a passion doth embrace my bosom: My heart beats thicker than a fev'rous pulse; And all my pow'rs do their beitowing lose, Like vanalage at unawares encountring The eye of Majesty.

Enter Pandarus and Creflida. Pan. Come, come; what need


blush? Shame's a baby. Here she is now : swear the oaths now to her, that you have sworn to me. What, are you gone again? you muit be watch'd ere you be made tame, must you? come your ways, come your ways ;


draw backward, we'll put you i'th' files : Why do you not speak to her ? Come, draw this curtain, and lei's see your picture. Alas the day, how loth you are to offend daylight? an 'twere dark, you'd clofe sooner. So, fo, rub on, and kiss the Mistress; how now, a kiss in fee-farm ? build there, carpenter, the air is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out, ere I part you. The faulcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i'th' river: (14) go to, go to.

Troi. You have bereft me of all words, lady.

Pan. Words pay no debts, give her deeds : but she'll bereave you of deeds too, if she

call your activity in question: what, billing again? here's, in witness whereof the parties interchangeably-come in, come in, I'll go

[Exit Pandarus. (14) The Falcon has the Tercel, for all the Ducks i'th' River.) This Reading first got Place casually, as I presume, in Mr. Rowe's Edition and was implicitly follow'd by Mr. Pope. But they both deprave the Text. Pandurus, seeing Troilus kiss with Fervour, and Cressida meet his Kifies with equal Zeal, means, that he'll match his Niece against her Lover for any Bett. The Tercel is the male Hawk; by the Faulcon, we generally understand the female.


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Cre. Will you walk in, my Lord ?
Troi. O Cressida, how often have I wisht me thus ?
Cre. Witht, my Lord! the Gods grant-o my Lord.

Troi. What should they grant? what makes this pretty abruption? what too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our love ? Cre. More dregs than water, if my

fears have

eyes. Troi. Fears makedevils of cherubins, they never see truly.

Cre. Blind fear, which seeing reason leads, finds fafer footing than blind reason ftumbling without fear. To fear the worst, oft cures the worse.

Troi. O, let my lady apprehend no fear ; in all Cupid's Pageant there is presented no monfter.

Cre. Nor nothing monstrous neither?

Troi. Nothing, but our Undertakings ; when we vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tygers ; thinking it harder for our mistress to devife impofition enough, than for as to undergo any diificulty iinpofed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will is infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the defire is boundless, and the act a dave to limit.

Cre. They say, all lovers fwear more performance chan they are able; and yet reserve an ability, that they never perform : vowing more than the perfection of ten, and difcharging less than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions, and the act of hares, are they not monstrous ?

Troi. Are there such ? such are not we : praise us as we are tafted, allow us as we prove: our head shall go bare, 'till merit crown it; no perfection in reverfion thall have a praise in present; we will not name desert before his birth, and, being born, his addition shall be humble ; few words to fair faith. Troilus shall be such to Cressida, as what envy can say worst, fhall be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak trueft, not truer than Troilus. Cre. Will

you walk in, my Lord ?

Enter Pandarus. Pan. What, blufhing still have you not done talkjog yet?

Cre. .

get a boy of

Cre. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you. Pan. I thank you

for that; if


Lord you, you'll give him me; be true to my Lord; if he Ainch, chide me for it.

Troi. You know now your hostages; your uncle's word and my firm faith.

Pan. Nay, l'll give my word for her too ; our kindred, though they be long ere they are wou'd, they are constant, being won: they are burrs, I can tell you, they'll stick where they are thrown.

Cre. Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart : Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day, For many weary months.

Troi. Why was my Cresid then so hard to win ?

Cre. Hard to feem won: but I was won, my Lord, With the first glance that ever -pardon me If I confess much ; you will play the tyrant: I love you now; but not till now, so inuch But I might master it--in faith, I lye My thoughts were like, unbridled children, grown Too headstrong for their mother ; see, we fools! Why have I blabb’d? who shall be true to us, When we are so unsecret to ourselves ? But though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not; And yet, good faith, I wisht myself a man: Or that we women had men's privilege, Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongues For in this rapture I shall surely speak The thing I Thall repent ; see, see, your filence (Cunning in dumbness) from my weakness draws My very soul of counsel. Stop my mouth. Troi. And shall, albeit sweet musick issues thence.

(Kiling. Pan. Pretty, i'faith.

Cre. My Lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;
'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss :
I am alham'd; O heavens, what have I done!
For this time will I take

Troi. Your leave, sweet Cresid?

leave, my




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