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 ^note, you are full of fair words.

Pan.

You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince, here is good broken music.

Par.

You have broke ^note 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 ^note is full of harmony.

Pan.

Truly, lady, no.

Helen.

O, sir,—

Pan.

Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.

Par.

Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits ^note.

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 ^note 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 ^note—

Helen.

You shall not bob us out of our melody: if you do, our melancholy upon your head ^note!

Pan.

Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i' faith. ^note

Helen.

And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence. ^note

Pan.

Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no. And, my lord, he desires you, that if the king call for him at supper, you ^note will make his ^note excuse. ^note

Helen.

My Lord Pandarus,—

Pan.

What says my sweet queen, my ^note very very sweet queen?

Par. ^note

What exploit's in hand? where ^note sups he to-night?

Helen.

Nay, but, my lord,—

Pan.

What says my sweet queen? My cousin will fall out with you. ^note You must not know where he sups. ^{note note}

Par. ^note

I'll lay my life ^note, with my disposer ^{note note} Cressida. ^note

Pan.

No, no, no such matter; you are wide: come, your disposer ^note is sick.

Par.

Well, I'll make ^note excuse.

Pan.

Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? no, your poor disposer's ^{note note} sick.

Par.

I spy. ^note

Pan.

You spy! what do you spy? Come, give me an instrument. Now ^note, sweet queen.

Helen.

Why, this is kindly done. ^note

Pan.

My niece is horribly ^note 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. ^note

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, prithee now. By ^note my troth, sweet lord ^note, thou hast a fine forehead.

Pan.

Ay, you may, you may. ^note

Helen.

Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!

Pan.

Love! ay, that it shall, i'faith.

Par.

Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.

Pan.

In good troth, it begins so ^note.

Love, love, nothing but love, still more ^note! ^note
  For, O, love's bow
  Shoots buck ^note and doe ^note:
  The shaft confounds, ^note
  Not that it wounds ^note,
But tickles still the sore.
These lovers cry Oh! oh! ^note they die:
  Yet that which seems the wound ^note to kill ^note,
Doth turn ^note oh! oh! ^note to ha! ha! he!
  So dying love lives still:
Oh! oh! ^note a while, but ha! ha! ha!
Oh! oh! ^note groans out for ha! ha! ha!

Heigh-ho! ^note

Helen.

In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the nose.

Par.

He eats nothing but doves, love ^note, and that breeds hot blood and hot blood begets hot thoughts and hot thoughts begets hot deeds and hot deeds is ^note love.

Pan.

Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds? ^note Why, they are vipers: is love a generation of vipers? Sweet lord, who's afield ^note to-day? ^note

Par.

Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed to-day ^note, but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my brother Troilus 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.

Farewell, sweet queen.

Helen.

Commend me to your niece.

Pan.

I will, sweet queen.

Par.
They're ^note come from field ^note: let us to Priam's hall,
To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
To help unarm our Hector: his stubborn buckles,
With these ^note your white enchanting fingers touch'd,
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 ^note servant, Paris;
Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
Yea, overshines ourself.

Par. ^note
Sweet, above thought I love thee. ^note [Exeunt.

^note

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