Pan. Command, I mean, friend. Serv. Who fhall I command, Sir? Pan. Friend, we understand not one another. I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whofe requeft do these men play? Serv. That's to't, indeed, Sir. Marry, Sir, at the request of Paris my Lord, who's there in perfon; with him the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's vifible foul. Pan. Who, my coufin Creffida? Serv. No, Sir, Helen. Could you not find out that by her attributes? Pan. It fhould feem, fellow, that thou haft not feen thé Lady Creffida. I come to fpeak with Paris from the Prince Troilus; I will make a complimental affault upon him, for my bufinefs feethes. Serv. Sodden bufinefs! there's a ftew'd phrafe, indeed. SCENE II. Enter Paris and Helen, attended. Pan. Fair be to you, my Lord, and to all this fair company! fair Defires in all fair measure fairly guide them; especially to you, fair queen, fair thoughts be your fair pillow! Helen. Dear Lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You fpeak your fair pleasure, fweet Queen. Fair Prince, here is good broken musick. Par. You have broken it, coufin, and, by my life, you fhall make it whole again; you fhall piece it out with a piece of your performance. Nell, he is full of harmony. Pan. Truly, lady, no. Helen. O, Sir Pan. Rude, in footh; in good footh, very rude. s love's vifitle foul.] So Han mer. The other edit ons have invifible, which perhaps may be VOL. VII. right, and may mean the foul of love invifible every where else. Hh Par Par. Well faid, my Lord; well, you fay fo in fits Pan. I have bufinefs to my Lord, dear Queen. My Lord, will you vouchfafe me a word? Helen. Nay, this fhall not hedge us out; we'll hear you fing, certainly. Pan. Well, fweet Queen, you are pleasant with me; but, marry thus, my Lord. -My dear Lord, and most efteemed friend, your brother Troilus Helen. My Lord Pandarus, honey-sweet Lord, Commends himself most affectionately to you. Pan. Sweet Queen, fweet Queen, that's a fweet Queen, I'faith Helen. And to make a fweet Lady fad, is a four offence. Pan. Nay, that fhall not ferve your turn, that fhail it not in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words, no, no. * And, my Lord, he defires you, that if the King call for him at fupper, you will make his excufe. Helen. My Lord Pandarus, Pan. What fays my fweet Queen, my very very fweet Queen? Par. What exploit's in hand, where fups he to-night? Pan. What fays my sweet Queen? My cousin will fall out with you. Helen. You must not know where he fups. Par. I'll lay my life, with my difpofer Creffida. thefe places, be read DISPOU SER; fhe that would feparate Helen from him. WARBURTON. I do not understand the word difpofer, nor know what to fubftitute in its place. There is no variation in the copies. Pan. Pan. No, no, no fuch matter, you are wide; come your difpofer is fick. Par. Well, I'll make excufe. Pan. Ah, good my Lord, why fhould you fay, Creffida? No, your poor difpofer's fick. Par. I fpy Pan. You fpy, what do you fpy? Come, give me an inftrument. Now, fweet Queen. Helen. Why, this is kindly done. Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, fweet Queen, Helen. She hall have it, my Lord, if it be not my Lord Paris. Pán. He? no, fhe'll none of him, they two are twain. Helen. Falling in after falling out, may make them three. Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this. I'll fing you a fong now. I Helen. Ay, ay, pr'ythee now. By my troth, fweet Lord, thou haft a fine fore head." Pan. Ay, you may, you may Helen. Let thy fong be love: this love will undo us all. Oh, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid! nothing but love. Love, love, no Pan. Love!ay, that it fhall, i'faith. For O, love's bow Thefe lovers cry, fweet Lord;] In the quarto, fweet lad. Yet Hh 2 Yet that, which feems the wound to kill, O bo, a while; but ba, ha, ha; O bo groans out for ba, ba, ba-bey bo! Helen. In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the nofe! 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 afield to-day? Par. Heftor, Deipbobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy. I would fain have arm'd today, but my Nell would not have it fo. How chance my brother Troilus went not? Helen. He hangs the lip at fomething. You know all, Lord Pandarus. Pan. Not I, honey-fweet Queen. I long to hear how they fped to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse. Par. To a hair. Pan. Farewel, fweet Queen. Helen. Commend me to your niece. Pan. I will, fwet Queen. [Exit. Sound a Retreat. Par. They're come from field. Let us to Priam's Hall, Yet that, which feems the. wound to kill,] To kill the wound, is no very intelligible expreffion, nor is the measure preferved. We might read, Thefe lovers cry, Ob! ob! they die: But that which feems to kill, To To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I muft woo you Yea, what he fhall receive of us in duty Gives us more palm in beauty than we have, Paris. Sweet. Above thought I love her. [Exeunt. An Orchard to Pandarus's Houfe. Enter Pandarus, and Troilus's Man. Pan Nov W, where's thy mafter? at my coufin Serv. No, Sir, he ftays for you to conduct him thither. Enter Troilus. Pan. O, here he comes. How now, how now? Troi. Sirrah, walk off. Pan. Have you feen my coufin? Troi. No, Pandarus, I ftalk about her door, Hh3 Pan. |
