Troilus and Cressida

them! especially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow! Helen Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pandarus You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince, here is good broken music. Paris You have broke 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 is full of harmony. Pandarus Truly, lady, no. Helen O, sir⁠— Pandarus Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. Paris Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits. Pandarus 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 you sing, certainly. Pandarus 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— Pandarus Go to, sweet queen, to go:⁠—commends himself most affectionately to you⁠— Helen You shall not bob us out of our melody: if you do, our melancholy upon your head! Pandarus Sweet queen, sweet queen! that’s a sweet queen, i’ faith. Helen And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence. Pandarus Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall 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 will make his excuse. Helen My Lord Pandarus⁠— Pandarus What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen? Paris What exploit’s in hand? where sups he to-night? Helen Nay, but, my lord⁠— Pandarus What says my sweet queen? My cousin will fall out with you. You must not know where he sups. Paris I’ll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida. Pandarus No, no, no such matter; you are wide: come, your disposer is sick. Paris Well, I’ll make excuse. Pandarus Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? no, your poor disposer’s sick. Paris I spy. Pandarus You spy! what do you spy? Come, give me an instrument. Now, sweet queen. Helen Why, this is kindly done. Pandarus My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet queen. Helen She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris. Pandarus He! no, she’ll none of him; they two are twain. Helen Falling in, after falling out, may make them three. Pandarus Come, come, I’ll hear no more of this; I’ll sing you a song now. Helen Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead. Pandarus Ay, you may, you may. Helen Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid! Pandarus Love! ay, that it shall, i’ faith. Paris Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. Pandarus

In good troth, it begins so. Sings.

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

Heigh-ho!

Helen In love, i’ faith, to the very tip of the nose. Paris 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 is love. Pandarus 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? Paris Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed 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. Pandarus Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they sped to-day. You’ll remember your brother’s excuse? Paris To a hair. Pandarus Farewell, sweet queen. Helen Commend me to your niece. Pandarus I will, sweet queen. Exit. A retreat sounded. Paris

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 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 servant, Paris;
Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
Yea, overshines ourself.

Paris Sweet, above thought I love thee. Exeunt.

Scene II

The same. Pandarus’ orchard.

	Enter Pandarus and Troilus’ Boy, meeting.
Pandarus	How now! where’s thy master? at my cousin Cressida’s?
Boy	No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.
Pandarus	O, here he comes.
	Enter Troilus.
	How now, how now!
Troilus	Sirrah, walk off. Exit Boy.
Pandarus	Have you seen my cousin?
Troilus	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 lily-beds Proposed for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus, From Cupid’s shoulder pluck his painted wings And fly with me to Cressid!
Pandarus	Walk here i’ the orchard, I’ll bring her straight. Exit.
Troilus	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 watery palate tastes indeed Love’s thrice repured nectar? death, I fear me, Swooning destruction, or some joy too fine, Too subtle-potent, tuned 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 battle, when they charge on heaps The enemy flying.
	Re-enter Pandarus.
Pandarus	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 frayed with a sprite: I’ll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain: