Cres.

Tro. I prithee now, to bed.

Cres.

Are you a-weary of me?

Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day,

Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
I would not from thee.

Cres.

Night hath been too brief.
Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays
As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curse me.

Cres.

You men will never tarry.

Prithee, tarry:

O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,

And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's one up. Pan. [Within] What, 's all the doors open here?

Tro. It is your uncle.

Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking :

I shall have such a life!

Enter Pandarus.

Pan. How now, how now! how go maiden-heads? Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid?

Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle! You bring me to do-and then you flout me too.

Pan. To do what? to do what? let her say what what have I brought you to do?

Cres. Come, come, beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good, nor suffer others.

Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor capocchia! hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him!

Cres. Did not I tell you? would he were knock'd i' the head! [One knocks.

Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.
My lord, come you again into my chamber.
You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.

Tro. Ha, ha!

Cres. Come, you are deceived, I think of no such thing.

How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come in:
I would not for half Troy have you seen here.

[Knocking.

[Exeunt Troilus and Cressida. Pan. Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now! what's the matter?

Enter Eneas.

Ene. Good morrow, lord, good morrow.
Pan. Who's there? my Lord Æneas!

you not what news with you so early? Ene. Is not prince Troilus here?

Pan. Here! what should he do here?

By my troth, I knew

Ene. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him:

It doth import him much to speak with me.

Pan. Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know, I'll be sworn for my own part, I came in late. What should he do here?

Ene. Who! nay, then: come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are ware: you'll be so true to him, to be false to him: do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him thither; go. Re-enter Troilus.

Tro. How now! what's the matter?

Ene. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
My matter is so rash: there is at hand
Paris your brother and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The Lady Cressida.

Tro.

Is it so concluded?
Ene. By Priam and the general state of Troy.
They are at hand and ready to effect it.

Tro. How my achievements mock me!

I will go meet them: and, my Lord Æneas, We met by chance; you did not find me here. Ene. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature

Have not more gift in taciturnity. [Exeunt Troilus and Æneas. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad: a plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke's neck!

Re-enter Cressida.

Cres. How now! what's the matter? who was here?

Pan. Ah, ah !

Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord? gone! Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?

Pan. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above! Cres. O the gods! What's the matter?

Pan. Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst ne'er been born! I knew thou wouldst be his death: O, poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!

Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, what's the matter?

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus: 'twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.

Cres. O you immortal gods. I will not go.
Pan. Thou must.

Cres. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
I know no touch of consanguinity;

No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me
As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine!
Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood,
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
Do to this body what extremes you can;

But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very centre of the earth,

Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep,

Pan. Do, do.

Cres. Tear my bright hair and scratch my praised cheeks,

Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart

With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy. [Exeunt. SCENE III

Before Pandarus' house.

Enter Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Deiphobus, Antenor, and

Diomedes.

Par. It is great morning, and the hour prefix'd
For her delivery to this valiant Greek

Comes fast upon: good my brother Troilus,
Tell you the lady what she is to do,

And haste her to the purpose.

Walk into her house;

Tro.
I'll bring her to the Grecian presently:
And to his hand when I deliver her,
Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus
A priest, there offering to it his own heart.

Par. I know what 'tis to love;

And would, as I shall pity, I could help!
Please you walk in, my lords.

SCENE IV

A room in Pandarus' house.
Enter Pandarus and Cressida.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate.

Cres. Why tell you me of moderation ?

The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste.
And violenteth in a sense as strong

As that which causeth it: how can I moderate it?
If I could temporise with my affection,
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying dross;
No more my grief, in such a precious loss.
Enter Troilus.
Pan. Here, here, here he comes.
Cres. O Troilus! Troilus!
Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here!
'O heart,' as the goodly saying is,

Ah, sweet ducks!

[Embracing him.

Let me embrace too.

'O heart, heavy heart,

Why sigh'st thou without breaking?'

where he answers again,

'Because thou canst not ease thy smart
By friendship nor by speaking.'

There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse: we see it, we see it. How now, lambs!

Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity,

That the blest gods, as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which

Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me.

Cres. Have the gods envy?

Pan, Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.

Cres. And is it true that I must go from Troy?
Tro. A hateful truth.

Cres.

What, and from Troilus too?

Tro. From Troy and Troilus.
Cres.
Is it possible?
Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath :
We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious time now with a robber's haste
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how :
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,

With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu,

And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
Ene. [Within] My lord, is the lady ready?

Tro. Hark! you are call'd: some say the Genius so
Cries 'Come!' to him that instantly must die.
Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.

Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root.

Cres. I must then to the Grecians?

No remedy.

Tro.
Cres. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!
When shall we see again?

Tro. Hear me, my love: be thou but true of heart.
Cres. I true! how now! what wicked deem is this?
Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us:

I speak not 'be thou true,' as fearing thee;
For I will throw my glove to Death himself,
That there's no maculation in thy heart:
But 'be thou true' say I, to fashion in
My sequent protestation; be thou true,
And I will see thee.

Cres. O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers
As infinite as imminent: but I'll be true.

[Exit.

Tro. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.
Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see you?

Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,

To give thee nightly visitation.

But yet, be true.

Cres.

O heavens! Be true' again!

Tro. Hear why I speak it, love :

The Grecian youths are full of quality;

They 're loving, well composed with gifts of nature,
And flowing o'er with arts and exercise:

How novelties may move and parts with person,

Alas, a kind of godly jealousy

Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin

Makes me afeard.

Cres.

O heavens! you love me not.

Tro. Die I a villain then!

In this I do not call your faith in question,
So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,