a generation of vipers? Sweet Lord, who's afield today? Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy. I would fain have arm'd to-day, but my Nell would not have it fo. How chance my brother Troilus went not? Helen. He hangs the lip at fomething; you know all, Lord Pandarus. Pan. Not I, honey-fweet Queen: 'I long to hear how they fped to-day. You'll remember your brother's excufe? Par. To a hair. Pan. Farewel, sweet Queen. Helen. Commend me to your neice. Pan. I will, fweet Queen. [Exit. Sound a-Retreat. Par. They're come from field; let us to Priam's hall, To greet the warriors. Helen, I must woo you To help unarm our Hector: his ftubborn buckles, With thefe your white enchanting fingers toucht, Shall more obey, than to the edge of fteel, Or force of Greekish finews: you fhall do more Than all the island Kings, difarm great Hector. Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his fervant, Paris : Yea, what he fhall receive of us in duty Gives us more palm in beauty than we have, Yea, over-fhines our felf. Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. SCENE [Exeunt. III. · Pandarus's Orchard. Enter Pandarus, and Troilus's Man. Pan. NOW, where's thy mafter? at my cousin Cref fida's? Ser. No, Sir, 'he stays for you to conduct him thither. D 3 Enter 5 he stays you Enter Troilus. Pan. O, here he comes; how now, how now? Pan. Have you feen my coufin? [To the Servant. Troi. No, Pandarus: Iftalk about her door Pan. Walk here i'th orchard, I will bring her straight, [Exit Pandarus. Troi. I'm giddy; expectation whirls me round. Th' imaginary relish is fo fweet, That it enchants my fenfe; what will it be I fear it much, and I do fear befides Re-enter Pandarus. Pan. She's making her ready, fhe'll come ftraight; you must be witty now. She does fo blush, and fetches her wind fo fhort, as if he were 'fraid with a fprite: I'll bring her. It is the prettieft villain, fhe fetches her breath as fhort as a new-ta'en fparrow. [Exit Pandarus. Troi. Ev'n fuch a paffion doth embrace my bofom: My heart beats thicker than a fev'rous pulfe, And all my pow'rs do their bestowing lofe, 6 palates tafte Like Like vaffalage at unawares encountring The eye of Majefty. Pan. Come, come; what need you blufh? Shame's a baby. Here fhe is now: fwear the oaths now to her, that you have fworn 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 a i'th' files: Why do you not speak to her? Come draw this curtain, and let's fee your picture. Alas the day, how loth you are to offend daylight! an 'twere dark you'd clofe fooner. So, fo, rub on, and kifs 'thymiftrefs; how now, a kifs in feefarm? build there, carpenter, the air is fweet. Nay, you fhall fight your hearts out ere I part you. The faulcon 'as good 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 the call your activity in queftion: what, billing again? here's in witness whereof the parties interchangeably come in, come in, I'll go. get a fire. [Exit Pandarus. Cre. Will you walk in, my Lord ? Troi. O Creffida, how often have I wifht me thus ! Cre. Wifht, my Lord! The Gods grant-O, my Lord! Troi. What should they grant? what makes this pretty abruption? what dreg efpies my too curious sweet Lady in the fountain of our love? Cre. More dregs than water,. if my fears have eyes. Troi. Fears make devils of cherubins, they never fee truly. D 4 Cre. Blind fear, which feeing reafon leads, finds safer footing (a) Alluding to the cuftom of putting the men fufpected of cowardice in the middle places. 7 the 8 as the tercel, 9 what too curious dreg efpies my footing than blind reafon ftumbling without fear. To fear the worft, oft cures the worft. Troi. O let my Lady apprehend no fear, in all Cupid's. pageant there is prefented no monster. Cre. Nor nothing monftrous neither? Troi, Nothing but our undertakings, when we vow to weep feas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tygers; thinking it harder for our mistress to devise impofition enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty impofed. This is the monftrofity in love, Lady, that the will is infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the defire is boundlefs, and the act a flave to limit. Cre. They fay all lovers fwear more performance than they are able, and yet referve an ability that they never perform: vowing more than the perfection of ten; and difcharging less than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions, and the act of hares, are they not monfters? Troi. Are there fuch? fuch are not we: praife us as、 we are tafted, allow us as we prove our head fhall go bare, 'till merit crown it; no perfection in reverfion fhall have a praise in prefent; we will not name defert before his birth, and being born, his addition fhall be humble; few words to fair faith. Troilus fhall be fuch to Creffida, as what envy can fay worst fhall be a mock 'fore his truth and what truth can fpeak trueft, not truer than Troilus. Çre. Will you walk in, my Lord? Pan. What, blufhing ftill? have you not done talking yet? i 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. Troi. You know now your hoftages; your uncle's word and my firm faith. Pan. Nay, I'll, give my word for her too; our kindred, though they be long ere they are woo'd, they are conftant being won: they are burrs, I can tell you, they'll ftick 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 Creffid then fo hard to win? My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown But though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not, Of fpeaking firft. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue, The thing I fhall repent; fee, fee, your filence Troi. And fhall, albeit fweet mufick iffues thence. Pan. Pretty, i'faith. Cre. My Lord, I do befeech you pardon me; 'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kifs: [Kiffing. I am afham'd;-O heav'ns, what have I done!- [ing Pan. Leave! an you take leave 'till to-morrow-morn Cre. Pray you, content you. Troi. What offends you, Lady? Cre. |