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 villain: she fetches her breath so short as a new-ta'en sparrow.

[Exit PANDARUS.

Tro. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom : My heart beats thicker1 than a feverous pulse, And all my powers do their bestowing lose, Like vassalage at unawares encountering

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 watched 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 daylight! 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

4 My heart beats THICKER-] i. e. quicker, more rapidly. See "Henry IV.," part 2, Vol. iv. p. 377.

5

- i' the FILLS.] i. e. in the shafts. Fills, or phills, is still used in some counties for thills, the shafts of a cart or waggon. See Vol. ii. p. 496.

6 So, so; rub on, and KISS the MISTRESS.] The allusion is to bowling. What is now called the jack, in Shakespeare's time was usually termed the "mistress." a kiss in FEE-FARM!] Is a kiss of never-ending duration; a "fee-farm"

sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out, ere I part you. The falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i'the rivers: 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 wished me thus? Cres. Wished, 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 worse.

Tro. O let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupid's pageant there is presented no monster.

Cres. Nor nothing monstrous neither?

Tro. Nothing, but our undertakings; when we vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our mistress to devise imposition enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed.

being (as Malone remarks) a grant of lands in fee, that is, for ever, reserving a certain rent.

The FALCON as the TERCEL, for all the ducks i' the river:] The meaning seems to be, that the "falcon," or female hawk, is as good as the "tercel," the male hawk. The saying was, doubtless, proverbial.

9

- if my FEARS have eyes.] The quarto and folio editions have tears for "fears." The next line corrects the manifest error.

1 Fears make devils of cherubins ;] So all the old copies. Malone and other modern editors read, "Fears make devils cherubins," which is directly opposite to the poet's meaning.

This is the monstrosity in love, lady,—that the will is infinite, and the execution confined; that 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 perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions, and the act of hares, are they not monsters?

Tro. Are there such? such are not we. Praise us as we are tasted; allow us as we prove: our head shall go bare, till merit crown it. No perfection in reversion shall have a praise in present: we will not name desert, before his birth; and, being born, his addition shall be humble. Few words to fair faith: Troilus shall be such to Cressid, as what envy can say worst, shall be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak truest, not truer than Troilus.

Cres. Will you walk in, my lord?

Re-enter PANDARUS.

Pan. What! blushing still? have you not done talking yet?

Cres. 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.

Tro. You know now your hostages; 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 wooed, they are constant, being won: they are burs, I can tell you; they'll stick where they are thrown.

Cres. Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart.

2 till merit crown it.] The quartos here read, corruptly and unintelligibly, "till merit lover part.”

Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day
For many weary months.

Tro. Why was my Cressid, then, so hard to win? Cres. Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord, With the first glance that ever-Pardon me,

If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
I love you now; but not, till now, so much
But I might master it.-In faith, I lie:
My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
Too headstrong for their mother: see, we fools!
Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us,
When we are so unsecret to ourselves?-
But, though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not;
And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man,
Or that we women had men's privilege

Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue;
For, in this rapture, I shall surely speak
The thing I shall repent. See, see! your silence,
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel. Stop my mouth.

Tro. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.
Pan. Pretty, i'faith.

Cres. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me; "Twas not my purpose, thus to beg a kiss.

I am asham'd:-O heavens! what have I done?

For this time will I take my leave, my lord.

Tro. Your leave, sweet Cressid?

Pan. Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning,

Cres. Pray you, content you.

Tro.

What offends you, lady?

You cannot shun

Cres. Sir, mine own company.

Tro.

Yourself.

3 CUNNING in dumbness,] The old copies all read, "Coming in dumbness," a misprint corrected by Pope. In the next line we follow the quarto: the folio has "My soul of counsel from me."

Cres. Let me go and try.

I have a kind of self resides with you;

But an unkind self, that itself will leave,
I would be gone.—

To be another's fool. I would be

Where is my wit? I know not what I speak1.

Tro. Well know they what they speak, that speak

so wisely.

Cres. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love,

And fell so roundly to a large confession,

To angle for your thoughts; but you are wise,
Or else you love not, for to be wise, and love,
Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.
Tro. O that I thought it could be in a woman,
(As, if it can, I will presume in you)

To feed for aye' her lamp and flames of love;
To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind

That doth renew swifter than blood decays:
Or, that persuasion could but thus convince me,
That my integrity and truth to you

Might be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnow'd purity in love;

O, virtuous fight!

How were I then uplifted! but, alas!
I am as true as truth's simplicity,
And simpler than the infancy of truth.
Cres. In that I'll war with you.
Tro.
When right with right wars who shall be most right.
True swains in love shall, in the world to come,
Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,

I would be gone.

Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.] So the quartos: the folio, less connectedly,

"Where is my wit?

I would be gone. I speak I know not what." To feed for AYE-] The quartos, "To feed for age."