Imatges de pàgina
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But when contention and occasion meet,
By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life,
With all my force, pursuit, and policy.

Æne. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly
With his face backward. -- In humane gentleness,
Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life,
Welcome, indeed! By Venus' hand I swear,
No man alive can love, in such a sort,
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.

Dio. We sympathize: – Jove, let Æneas live,
If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
A thousand complete courses of the sun !
But, in mine emulous honour, let him die,
With every joint a wound; and that to-morrow!

Æne. We know each other well.
Dio. We do; and long to know each other worse.

Par. This is the most despiteful gentle greeting,
The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.
What business, lord, so early ?
Æne. I was sent for to the king; but why, I know

not. Par. His purpose meets you '; 'Twas to bring this

Greek
To Calchas' house; and there to render him,
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid;
Let's have your company; or, if you please,
Haste there before us: I constantly do think,
(Or, rather, call my thought a certain knowledge,)
My brother Troilus lodges there to-night;
Rouse him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality wherefore; I fear,
We shall be much unwelcome.
Æne.

That I assure you ;
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece,
Than Cressid borne from Troy.

· His purpose meets you ;) I bring you his meaning and his orders.

Johnson.

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Par.

There is no help;
The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you.
Æne. Good morrow, all.

[Exit.
Par. And tell me, noble Diomed; faith, tell me true,
Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,
Who, in your thoughts, merits fair Helen best,
Myself, or Menelaus?
Dio.

Both alike :
He merits well to have her, that doth seek her
(Not making any scruple of her soilure,)
With such a hell of pain, and world of charge ;
And you as well to keep her, that defend her
(Not palating the taste of her dishonour,)
With such a costly loss of wealth and friends :
He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up
The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece; 2
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors;
Both merits pois'd', each weighs nor less nor more;
But he as he, the heavier for a whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman.

Dio. She's bitter to her country: Hear me, Paris.
For every false drop in her bawdy veins
A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple
Of her contaminated carrion weight,
A Trojan hath been slain; since she could speak,
She hath not given so many good words breath,
As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death.

Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy :
But we in silence hold this virtue well,
We'll not commend what we intend to sell.
Here lies our way.

[Exeunt.

a flat tamed piece ;] i. e. a piece of wine out of which the spirit is all flown.

s Both merits pois’d, &c.] The sense appears to be this : the me rits of either are sunk in value, because the contest between them is only for a strumpet.

SCENE II.

The same.

Court before the House of Pandarus.

Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA.
Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold.

Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;
He shall unbolt the gates.
Tro.

Trouble him not;
To bed, to bed : Sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses,
As infants empty of all thought !
Cress.

Good morrow then.
Tro. 'Pr’ythee now, to bed.
Cres.

Are you aweary

of me?
Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day,
Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
I would not from thee.
Cres.

Night hath been too brief.
Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she

stays,
As tediously as hell; but flies the grasps of love,
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curse me.
Cres.

Pr’ythee, tarry; —
You men will never tarry.
O foolish Cressid !- I might have still held off,
And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's

one up:

Pan. [within.] What, are all the doors open here?
Tro. It is your uncle.

Enter PANDARUS. Cres. A pestilence on him ! now will he be mocking: I shall have such a life,

Pan. How now, how now? how go maidenheads ?Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid ?

Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle ! You bring me to do, and then you flout me too. Pan. To do what? to do what? - let her

say

what : what have I brought you to do? Cres. Come, come; beshrew your heart ! you'll ne'er

be good, Nor suffer others.

Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch ! a poor capocchia +! hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him !

[Knocking. Cres. Did I not tell you ? — 'would he were knock'd

o'the head!
Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see. —
My lord, come you again into my chamber :
You smile, and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.

Tro. Ha, ha!
Cres. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such
thing.

[Knocking How earnestly they knock ! pray you, come in; I would not for half Troy have you seen here.

[Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA. Pan. [going to the door.] Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now ? what's the matter?

Enter ÆNEAS.

Æne. Good-morrow, lord, good-morrow.

Pan. Who's there ? my lord Æneas ? By my troth, I knew you

not: what news with you so early ? Æne. Is not prince Troilus here? Pan. Here! what should he do here?

Æne. Come, he is here, my lord, do not deny him; It doth import him much, to speak with me.

+ “capocchio !" - MALONE.

Pan. Is he here, say you ? 'tis more than I know, I'll be sworn :

- For my own part, I came in late: What should he do here?

Æne. Who! — nay, then : Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are 'ware : You'll be so true to him, to be false to him: Do not you know of him, yet go fetch him hither:t Go.

As PANDARUS is going out, enter TROILUS.
Tro. How now? what's the matter?

Æne. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
My matter is so rash 4: There is at hand
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The lady Cressida.
Tro.

Is it so concluded ?
Æne. By Priam, and the general state of Troy:
They are at hand, and ready to effect it.

Tro. How my achievements mock me!
I will go meet them: and, my lord Æneas,
We met by chance; you did not find me here.

Æne. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature Have not more gift in taciturnity.

[Exeunt TROILUS and ÆNEAS. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor! I would, they had broke's neck!

Enter CRESSIDA. Cres. How now? what is the matter? Who was here Pan. Ah, ah !

+ Mr. Malone gives part of this dialogue as prose. malter is so rash:] My business is so hasty and so abrupt

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