Pan.

How now? where's thy master? at my cousin Cressida's?

Ser.

No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.

Pan.
O, here he comes.—How now, how now?

Tro.
Sirrah, walk off. [Exit Servant.

Pan.
Have you seen my cousin?

Tro.
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! O gentle Pandarus,

From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Cressid!

Pan.
Walk here i'th'orchard, I'll bring her straight. [Exit Pandarus.

Tro.
I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relish is so sweet,
That it enchants my sense; what will it be,
When that the watry palate tastes 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 ruder powers:
I fear it much; and I do fear besides,
That I shall lose distinction in my joys* ^note;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The enemy flying. 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 fray'd with a sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain,—she fetches her breath as short as a new-ta'en sparrow.

Tro.
Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom:
My heart beats thicker than a fev'rous pulse;
And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring
The eye of majesty. Re-enter Pandarus, with 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 to me.—What, are you gone again? you must be watch'd ere you be made tame, must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward, we'll put you i'th'files.—Why do you not speak to her?—Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your

picture. Alas the day, how loth you are to offend daylight! an 'twere dark, you'd close sooner.—So, so; 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 falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i'th' river: go to, go to.

Tro.

You have bereft me of all words, lady.

Pan.

Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but she'll bereave you o'th' 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 get a fire.

Cre.

Will you walk in, my lord?

Tro.

O Cressida, how often have I wish'd me thus?

Cre.

Wish'd, my lord?—The gods grant!—O my lord.

Tro.

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.

Tro.

Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly.

Cre.

Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: To fear the worst, oft cures the worst.

Tro.

O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupid's pageant there is presented no monster.

Cre.

Nor nothing monstrous neither?

Tro.

Nothing, but our undertakings; when we vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our mistress to devise imposition enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady,—that the will is infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.

Cre.

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

&blquo;Tro.

&blquo;Are there such? such are not we: Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare, 'till merit crown it: no perfection in reversion shall 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 Cressid, as what envy can say worst, shall be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak truest, not truer than Troilus.&brquo;

Cre.

Will you walk in, my lord?

Pan.

What, blushing still? have you not done talking yet?

Cre.

Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.

Pan.

I thank you for that; &blquo;if my lord get a boy of you, you'll give him me:&brquo; Be true to my lord; if he flinch, chide me for't.

Tro.

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

Pan.

Nay, I'll give my word for her too: our kindred, though they be long ere they are wooed, they are constant being won: they are burs, 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.

Tro.
Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?

Cre.
Hard to seem 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 much
But I might master it: in faith, I lie;
My thoughts were like unbridl'd children, grown
Too headstrong for their mother: See, we fools!
Why have I blab'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 wish'd myself a man;

Or, that we women had men's privilege
Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue;
For, in this rapture, I shall surely speak
The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel: Stop my mouth.

Tro.
And shall, albeit sweet musick issues thence.

Pan.
Pretty, i'faith.

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

Tro.
Your leave, fair Cressid?

Pan.
Leave! an you take leave 'till to-morrow morning,—

Cre.
Pray you, content you. [To Pan.

Tro.
What offends you, lady?

Cre.
Sir, mine own company.

Tro.
You cannot shun yourself.

Cre.
Let me go try:
I have a kind of self resides with you:
But an unkind self; that itself will leave,
To be another's fool. I would be gone:—
Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.

Tro.
Well know they what they speak, that speak so wisely.

Cre.
Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;
And fell so roundly to a large confession,
To angle for your thoughts: But you are wise;
And then you love not; for to be wise, and love,
Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.

Tro.
O, that I thought it could be in a woman,
(As, if it can, I will presume in you)
To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love;
To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
Out-living beauty's outward, with a mind
That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
Or, that persuasion could but thus convince me,—
That my integrity and truth to you
Might be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnow'd purity in love;

How were I then uplifted! but, alas,
I am as true as truth's simplicity,
And simpler than the infancy of truth.

&blquo;Cre.
&blquo;In that I'll war with you.

&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;O virtuous fight,
&blquo;When right with right wars who shall be most right!
&blquo;True swains in love shall, in the world to come,
&blquo;Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rimes,
&blquo;Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
&blquo;Want similies, truth tir'd with iteration.—
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to the center,—
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
As truth's authentic author to be cited,
As true as Troilus shall crown up the verse,
And sanctify the numbers.

Cre.
Prophet may you be!
If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot itself,
When water-drops have worn the stones of Troy,
And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,
And mighty states characterless are grated
To dusty nothing; yet let memory,
From false to false, among false maids in love,
Upbraid my falsehood! when they've said—as false
As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf,
Pard to the hind, or step-dame to her son;
Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,
As false as Cressid* ^note.

Pan.

Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal it; I'll be the witness. Here I hold your hand; here, my cousin's; If ever you prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers- between be call'd to the world's end after my name, call them all—Pandars; let all inconstant men be Troilus's,

all false women Cressids, and all brokers-between Pandars! say, Amen.

Tro.

Amen.

Cre.

Amen.

&blquo;Pan.

&blquo;Amen. Whereupon I will shew you a chamber, and a bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your pretty encounters, press it to death: away.&brquo;