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Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle

down;

He shall unbolt the gates.

Tro.

Trouble him not;

To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses,
As infants' empty of all thought!

Cres.

Tro. Pr'ythee now, to bed.

Cres.

Good morrow, then.

Are you aweary of me?

Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day,

Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer3,
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.

Pr'ythee, tarry.—

O foolish Cressid !—I might have still held off,

And, then, you would have tarried. Hark! there's

one up.

Pan. [Within.] What! are all the doors open here? Tro. It is your uncle.

Enter PANDarus.

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

I shall have such a life.

Pan. How now, how now! how go maidenheads?— Here, you maid; where's my cousin Cressid?

5 will hide our JOYs no longer,] The quartos have "joys," rightly: the folio misprints it eyes.

6 AS TEDIOUSLY as hell ;] Here again the quarto text is to be adopted: the folio reads, "hideously as hell."

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! a poor capocchio"!-hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him!

[Knocking. Cres. Did not I tell you?-'would he were knock'd

o' the head!—

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 deceiv'd; I think of no such

thing.—

[Knocking. How earnestly they knock.-Pray you, come in:

I would not for half Troy have you seen here.

[Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA. Pan. [Going to the door.] 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 Eneas! By my troth, I knew you not: what news with you so early? Ene. Is not prince Troilus here?

Pan. Here! what should he do here?

Ene. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him: it doth import him much to speak with me.

66

7 — a poor CAPOCCHIO !] "In Florio's Italian Dictionary, 1598," says Malone, we find, Capocchio, a doult, a loggerhead, a foolish pate, a shallow skonce."" In all the old copies it is spelt chipochia.

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 y'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 hither: go.

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!

8 Deliver'd to us ;] So the folio: the quarto, erroneously, "Deliver❜d to him." "Deliver❜d by him," meaning Diomed, might be right.

9

-

- the secrets of nature] The quarto corruptly reads, "the secrets of neighbour Pandar.”

Enter CRESSIDA.

Cres. How now! What is the matter?

Who was

here?

Pan. Ah! ah!

Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's

gone!

Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?

[blocks in formation]

Pan. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!

Cres. O the gods !-what's the matter?

Pan. Pr'ythee, 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.

1 Do to this body what EXTREMES you can,] Shakespeare not unfrequently uses "extremes " in this way, see "Romeo and Juliet," Act iv. sc. 1, &c.: the folio substitutes extremity, which injures the verse.

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.

The Same. Before PANDARUS' House.

Enter PARIS, TROILUS, ENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, and DIOMEDES.

Par. It is great morning, and the hour prefix'd

Of 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;

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

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

SCENE IV.

The Same. A Room in PANDARUS' House.

Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA.

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate.

Cres. Why tell you me of moderation?

The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,

2 A priest, there offering to it his own heart.] The folio omits "own," pos

sibly considering "offering," as it is strictly, a trisyllable.

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