Pandarus.
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.
Cre.
How now? What's the matter? Who was here?
Pan.
Ah, ah!
Cre.
Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my
Lord? gone? Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
Pan.
'Would, I were as deep under the earth, as I
am above!
-- 498 --
Cre.
O the Gods! what's the matter?
Pan.
Pr'ythee, get thee in; 'would, thou hadst
ne'er been born. I knew, thou wouldst be his death.
O poor gentleman! a plague upon Antenor!—
Cre.
Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees, I
beseech you, what's the matter?
Pan.
Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be
gone, thou art chang'd for Antenor; thou must go to
thy father, and be gone from Troilus. 'Twill be his
death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.
Cre.
O you immortal Gods! I will not go.
Pan.
Thou must.
Cre.
I will not, uncle. I've forgot my father,
I know no touch of Consanguinity:
No kin, no love, no blood, no foul so near me,
As the sweet Troilus. O you Gods divine!
Make Cressid's name the very Crown of falshood,
If ever she leave Troilus. Time, Force, and Death,
Do to this body what extremes you can;
But the strong Base and Building of my Love
Is as the very center of the earth,
Drawing all things to it.—I'll go and weep,—
Pan.
Do, do.
Cre.
Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks,
Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart
With sounding Troilus. I'll not go from Troy.
[Exeunt.
-- 499 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].