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; if 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 day-light? 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 faulcon as 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 of 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?

Troi.

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 fears have eyes.

Troi.

Fears make devils of cherubims, they never see truly.

Cre.

Blind fear, which 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 our 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 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 monstrous?

Troi.

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?