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 Troilus went not?

Helen.

He hangs the Lip at something; you know all, Lord Pandarus.

Pan.

Not I, hony 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.

Par.
They're come from Field; 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 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 your Servant, Paris:
Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty,
Gives us more palm in Beauty than we have:
Yea, over-shines our self.
Sweet, above thought, I love thee. [Exeunt. Enter Pandarus, and Troilus's Man.

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?

Troi.
Sirrah, walk off.

Pan.
Have you seen my Cousin?

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 will 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.

Troi.
I am giddy; Expectation 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;
Sounding Destruction, or some Joy too fine,
Too subtile, 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,
As doth a Battel when they charge on heaps
The Enemy flying. 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 fetch her; it is the prettiest Villain, she fetches her breath so short as a new ta'en Sparrow.

Troi.
Even such a Passion doth embrace my Bosom:
My Heart beats thicker than a feverous Pulse,
And all my Powers do their bestowing lose,
Like Vassalage at unawares encountring
The Eye of Majesty. 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 to me. What, are you gone again, you must be watch'd e'er you be made tame, must you? Come your ways, come your ways, and 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 loath you are to offend day-light? and '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 e'er I part you. The

Faulcon has the Tercel, for all the Ducks i'th' River: Go to, go to.

Troi.

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?

Troil.

O Cressida, how often have I wisht me thus?

Cre.

Wisht, my Lord! the Gods grant;—O, my Lord.

Troi.

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 Tears have Eyes.

Troi.

Fears make Devils of Cherubins, 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 worse.

Troi.
O let my Lady apprehend no fear,
In all Cupid's Pageant there is presented no Monster.

Cre.

Nor nothing monstrous neither?

Troi.

Nothing but their Undertakings, when we vow to weep Seas, live in Fire, eat Rocks, tame Tygers, thinking it harder for our Mistress to devise Imposition enough, than for us to undergo any Difficulty imposed. This is the monstrosity 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?

Troil.

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 Cressida, as what Envy can say worst, shall be a mock for his Truth; and what Truth can speak truest, not truer than Troilus.

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; if my Lord get a Boy of you, you'll give him me; be true to my Lord, if he flinch, chide me for it.

Troi.

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 e'er they are woo'd, 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.

Troi.
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 lye—
My Thoughts were like unbridled Children, grown
Too head-strong for their Mother; see we Fools,
Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us
When we are so unsecret to our selves?
But though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not,
And yet good faith I wisht my self a Man:
Or that the Women had Mens 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
Coming in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My Soul of Counsel from me. Stop my Mouth.

Troi.
And shall, albeit sweet Musick issues thence. [Kissing.

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.

Troi.

Your leave, sweet Cressid?

Pan.

Leave! and you take leave 'till to Morrow Morning—

Cre.

Pray you, content you.

Troi.

What offends you, Lady?

Cre.

Sir, mine own Company.

Troi.

You cannot shun your self.

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

Troi.

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

Cre.
Perchance, my Lord, I shew more Craft than Love.
And fell so roundly to a large Confession,
To angle for your Thoughts: But you are wise,
Or else you love not; for to be wise and love,
Exceeds Man's might, and dwells with Gods above.

Troi.
O that I thought it could be in a Woman;
And if it can, I will presume in you,
To feed for ay her lamp and flames of Love,
To keep her Constancy in plight and youth,
Out-living Beauties outward, with a Mind
That doth renew swifter than Blood decays.
Or that Perswasion could but thus convince me,
That my integrity and truth to you,
Might be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnowed purity in Love:
How were I then up-lifted! But alas,
I am as true as Truth's Simplicity,
And simpler than the Infancy of Truth.

Cre.
In that I'll war with you.

Troi.
O virtuous Fight,
When right with right wars, who should be most right?
True Swains in Love, shall in the World to come
Approve their truths by Triolus; when their Rhimes,

Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
Want similies: Truth tired 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 th'Center:
Yet after all comparisons of truth,
(As Truth's Authentick Author to be cited)
As true as Triolus, shall crown up the Verse,
And sanctifie the Numbers.

Cre.
Prophet may you be:
If I be false or swerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot it self,
When Water-drops have worn the Stones of Troy,
And blind Oblivion swallow'd Cities up,
And mighty States caracterless 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, as Wind, as 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.

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 to one 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 Panders; let all constant Men be Troilusses, all false Women Cressida's, and all Brokers between, Panders; say, Amen.

Troi.

Amen.

Cre.

Amen.

Pan.

Amen.

Whereupon I will shew you a Chamber, which Bed, because it shall not speak of your pretty encounters, press it to Death: Away.

Next section