Imatges de pÓgina
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SC E N E II.

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Enter Paris and Helen. Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company: fair desires 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 speak your fair pleasure, sweet Queen: fair Prince, here is good broken musick.

Par. You have broken it, cousin, and by my life you shall make it whole again, you shall 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 sooth, in good footh very rude.
Par. Well said, my lord; well, you say so in fits.

Pan. I have business to my lord, dear Queen; my lord, will you vouchsafe me a word?

Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out, we'll hear you sing certainly.

Pan. Well, sweet Queen, you are pleasant with me; but, marry thus, my lord, my dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus

Helen. My lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord.

Pan. Go to, sweet Queen, go to --Commends himself most affectionately to you.

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody: If you do, our melancholy upon your

head. Pan. Sweet Queen, sweet Queen, that's a sweet Queen, l'faith

Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad, is a lower offence. Nay, that shall not serve your turn, that shall it not in truth la. Nay, I care not for such words, no, no

Pan.

.

dir

Pan. And, my lord, he desires you, that if the King call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.

Helen. My lord Pandarus
Pan. What says my sweet Queen, my very very sweet Queen ?
Par. What exploits in hand, where sups he to-night?
Helen. Nay, but

my

lord. Pan. What says 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 disposer Crepida.

Pan. No, no, no such matter, you are wide ; come, your poser is sick.

Par. Well, I'll make excuse.

Pan. Ay, good my lord; why should you say Cressida? no, your poor disposer's sick.

Par. I spy

Pan. You spy, what do you spy? come, give me an inftrument now, sweet Queen.

Helen. Why this is kindly done.

Pan. My neice is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet Queen.

Helen. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris.
Pan. He? no, she'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 sing you a song now.

Helen. Ay, ay, pr’ythee now; by my troth, sweet lord, thou haft a fine fore-head.

Pan. Ay, you may, you may -

Helen. Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all. Oh, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid.

Pan. Love! ay, that it shall, i'faith.
Par. Ay good now, love, love, nothing but love.

ز

Pan.

.

Pan. In good troth it begins fo.

Love, love, nothing but love, fill more:
For 0, love's bow
Shoots buck and doe:
The Maft confounds
Not that it wounds,
But tickles fill the fore:
These lovers cry, oh oh they dye :
Yet, that which seems the wound to kill,
Doth turn, oh oh, to ha ha he:
So dying love lives ftill.
O be a while, but ha ha ha ;
O bo groans out for ha ha ha ---- hey ho.

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 afield to-day?

Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Anthenor, 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 Troilás 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 neice.
Pan. I will, sweet Queen.

[Exit. Sound a Retreat,

Par.

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

Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris:
Yea, what he shall receive of us in daty
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
Yea, over-shines our self.
Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee.

(Exeunt.

N,

, where's

my cousin

SCEN E III.

Enter Pandarus, and Troilus's Man, Pan. TOW, where's thy master ? at my cousin Cresida’s ?

Ser. 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
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 lilly beds
Propos’d for the deserver! Gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And Aly with me to Cresid.
Pan. Walk here i’th orchard, I will bring her straight.

(Exit Pandarus VOL. VI. H

Troi.

rude powers ;

Troi. I'm giddy; espectation whirles 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 subtile, potent, and too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my
I fear it much, and I do fear besides
That I shall lose distinction in my joys,
As doth a battel 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 blush, 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 bestowing lose, Like vassalage at unawares encountring The eye of majesty.

SCENE IV.

Enter Pandarus and Cressida.

Pan. Come, come; what need you blush? Shame's a baby. Here she is now: swear the oaths now to her, that

you

have sworn What, are you gone again ? you must be watch'd ere you be made tame, must you? come your ways, come your ways; if you draw backward we'll put you i'th' files: Why do you not fpeak to her? Come draw this curtain, and let's

to me.

see

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