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SCENE II.

Enter Paris and Helen.

Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company: fair defires in all fair measure fairly guide them, especially to you, fair Queen, fair thoughts be your fair pillow.

Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words.

Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet Queen: fair Prince, here is good broken musick.

Par. You have broken it, coufin, and by my life you shall make it whole again, you fhall piece it out with a piece of your performance. Nell, he is full of harmony.

Pan. Truly, lady, no.

Helen. O, Sir

Pan. Rude in footh, in good footh very rude.
Par. Well faid, my lord; well, you say so in fits.

Pan. I have bufinefs 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.

Pan. Well, fweet 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.

Pan. Go to, fweet Queen, go to --

Commends himself most affectionately to you.

Helen. You fhall not bob us out of our melody:

If you do, our melancholy upon your head.

Pan. Sweet Queen, fweet Queen, that's a fweet Queen, I'faith Helen. And to make a sweet lady fad, is a fower offence. Nay, that shall not serve your turn, that shall it not in truth la. I care not for fuch words, no, no---

Nay,

Pan.

Pan. And, my lord, he defires you, that if the King call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.

Helen. My lord Pandarus

Pan. What says my fweet Queen, my very very sweet Queen? Par. What exploit's in hand, where fups he to-night?

Helen. Nay, but my lord.

Pan. What fays my fweet Queen? my coufin will fall out with

you.

Helen. You must not know where he fups.

Par. I'll lay my life with my disposer Creffida.

Pan. No, no, no fuch matter, you are wide; come, your difpofer is fick.

Par. Well, I'll make excuse.

Pan. Ay, good my lord; why should you fay Cressida? no, your poor disposer's sick.

Par. I fpy

Pan. You spy, what do you spy? come, give me an instrument now, fweet Queen.

Helen. Why this is kindly done.

Pan. My neice is horribly in love with a thing you have, fweet Queen.

Helen. She fhall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris. Pan. He? no, fhe'll none of him, they two are twain. Helen. Falling in after falling out may make them three? Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this. I'll fing you a fong now.

Helen. Ay, ay, pr'ythee now; by my troth, fweet lord, thou hast a fine fore-head.

Pan. Ay, you may, you may

Helen. Let thy fong be love: this love will undo us all. Oh, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid.

Pan. Love! ay, that it fhall, i'faith.

Par. Ay good now, love, love, nothing but love.

Pan.

Pan. In good troth it begins fo.

Love, love, nothing but love, fill more:

For O, love's bow

Shoots buck and doe:

The shaft confounds

Not that it wounds,

But tickles fill the fore:

Thefe lovers cry, oh oh they dye:

Yet, that which feems the wound to kill,
Doth turn, oh oh, to ha ha he:

So dying love lives ftill.

O ho a while, but ha ha ha;

O bo groans out for ha ha ha----hey bo.

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 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, fweet Queen.

Helen. Commend me to your neice.
Pan. I will, fweet Queen.

[Exit. Sound a Retreat.

Par.

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 these your white enchanting fingers toucht,
Shall more obey, than to the edge of steel,

Or force of Greekish finews: you shall do more
Than all the island Kings, disarm great Hector:
Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his fervant, Paris:
Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty

Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,

Yea, over-fhines our self.

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee.

Pan.

SCENE

III.

Enter Pandarus, and Troilus's Man.

Now, where's

[Exeunt.

TOW, where's thy mafter? at my coufin Creffida's?
Ser. No Sir, he stays you to conduct him thither.

Enter Troilus.

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 tranfportance to those fields,
Where I may wallow in the lilly beds

Propos'd for the deferver! Gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's fhoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Creffid.

Pan. Walk here i'th' orchard, I will bring her straight.

VOL. VI.

H

[Exit Pandarus.

Troi.

Troi. I'm giddy; expectation whirles me round.
Th' imaginary relifh is fo fweet,

That it enchants my fenfe; what will it be
When that the watry palates tafte indeed
Love's thrice reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning deftruction, or fome joy too fine
Too fubtile, potent, and too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my rude powers;

I fear it much, and I do fear befides
That I fhall lofe diftinction in my joys,

As doth a battel when they charge on heaps
The flying enemy.

Re-enter Pandarus:

Pan. She's making her ready, fhe'll come straight; you must be witty now. She does fo blush, and fetches her wind fo fhort, as if she were fraid with a fprite: I'll bring her. It is the prettiest villain, the 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 pulse,

And all my pow'rs do their bestowing lofe,
Like vaffalage at unawares encountring
The eye of majesty.

SCENE IV.

Enter Pandarus and Creffida.

Pan. Come, come; what need you blush? 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, muft you? come your ways, come your if you draw backward we'll put you i'th' files: Why do you not fpeak to her? Come draw this curtain, and let's

ways;

fee

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