if the king call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.

Helen. My lord Pandarus,

Pan. What says my sweet queen,—my very very sweet queen?

Par. What exploit's in hand? where sups he to night?

Helen. Nay, but my lord,

Pan. What says my sweet queen ?-My cousin will fall out with you. You must not know where he sups.

Par. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida. Pan. No, no, no such matter, you are wide;1 come, your disposer is sick.

Par. Well, I'll make excuse.

Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why should you sayCressida? no, your poor disposer's sick. Par. I spy.

Pan. You spy! what do you spy ?-Come, give ine an instrument.-Now, sweet queen. Helen. Why, this is kindly done.

Pan. 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.

Pan. He! no, she'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 sing you a song now.

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 un

do us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!

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

Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. (1) Wide of your mark.

Pan. In good troth, it begins so:

Love, love, nothing but love, still more!
For, oh, 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!
Hey ho!

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 a-field to-day?

Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed to-night, 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.

Pan. Farewell, sweet queen.

Helen. Commend me to your niece.

Pan. I will, sweet queen.

[Exit.

[A retreat sounded.

Par. They are come from field: let us to Pri

am's hall,

To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you To help unarın 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,
Give us more palm in beauty than we have;
Yea, overshines ourself.

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. [Exe.

SCENE HI-The same. Pandarus' orchard. Enter Pandarus and a Servant, meeting.

Pan. How now? where's thy master? at my cousin Cressida's?

Serv. 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: 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! O 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. [Exit Pandarus. Tro. 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 watry palate tastes indeed
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,

Too subtle-potent, tun'd 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.

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 frayed with a sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest virain: she fetches her breath as short as a newta'en parrow. [Exit Pandarus. Tro. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom:

My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse;

And all

powers do their bestowing lose,

Like vassala at unawares encount'ring

The eye of majesty.

Enter Pancrus and Cressida.

Pan. Come, come, whateed you blush? shame's a baby. Here she is now: year the oaths now to her, that you have sworn to meWhat, are you gone again? you must be watched re you be made tame, must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward, we'll pu you i'the fills, Why do you not speak to her?-Cone, draw this curtain, and let's see your picture. Al 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,2 How now? a kiss in feefarm? build there, carpenter; the air is sweet, Nay, you shall fight your hearts out, ere I part you. The

(1) Shafts of a carriage.

(2) The allusion is to bowling; what is now called the jack was formerly termed the mistress.

falcon as the tercel, 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 Pan.

Cres. Will you walk in, my lord? Tro. O Cressida, how often have I wished me thus?

Cres. Wished, my lord?-The gods grant!-0 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 cherubins: ney never see truly.

Cres. Blind fear, that seeing cason leads, finds safer footing than blind reas stumbling without fear: To fear the worst, cures the worst.

Tro. O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupid's pageant the is presented no monster. Cres. Nor nothing monstrous neither?

Tro. Nothins, but our undertakings; when we vow to weep eas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking inarder for our mistress to devise imposi tion enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady,— that the will is infinite, and the execution confined; chat the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.

Cres. They say, all lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the per

(1) The tercel is the male and the falcon the fe male hawk