« ÎnapoiContinuați »
Helen. Ay, ay, pr’ythee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead.
Pan. Ay, you may, you may.
Helen. Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all. O, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid !
Pan. Love! ay, that it shall, i'faith.
Love, love, nothing but love, still more!
For, oh, love's bow
Not that it wounds,
These lovers cry-Oh! oh! they die!
Yet that which seems the wound to kill,
So dying love lives still:
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 is 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, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have arm'd today, 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.
Pan. Not I, honey-sweet queen.--I long to hear how they sped to-day.-You'll remember your brother's excuse?
Par. To a hair.
[A retreat sounded. Par. They are come from field: let us to Priam's
ball, To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have;
Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. (Exeunt.
The Same. Pandarus' Orchard.
Enter PANDARUS and a Servant, meeting. Pan. How now? Where's thy master? at my cousin Cressida's ?
Scru. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.
Enter TROILUS. Pan. O, here he comes.- How now, how now? Tro. Sirrah, walk off.
[Exit Servant. Pan. Have you seen my cousin ?
Tro. 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 Propos'd for the deserver! () gentle Pandarus, From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings, And fly with me to Cressid ! Pan. Walk here i'the orchard, I'll bring her straight.
[Erit Pandarus. Tro. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet
That it enchants my sense; What will it be,
Re-enter PANDARUS. Pan. 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 fray'd with a sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain :-she fetches her breath as short as a new-ta'en sparrow.
[Exit Pandarus. Tro. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom: My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse; And all my powers do their bestowing lose, Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring The eye of majesty.
Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA. 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; an
you draw backward, we'll put you i'the fills.-Why do you not speak to her?--Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your picture. Alas the day, how loath 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 26, for all the ducks i'the river: go to, go to.
Tro. You have bereft me of all words, lady.
Pan. Words pay no debts, give her deeds : but she'll bereave you of the 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. [Exit Pandarus. Cres. Will you walk in, my
lord? Tro. O Cressida, how often have I wish'd me
thus ? Cres. Wish'd, my lord !- the gods grant!-O my lord!
Tro. What should they grant? what makes this pretty abruption? What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our love?
Cres. More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.
Tro. Fears make devils of cherubins; they never see truly.
Cres. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: To fear the worst, oft cures the worst.