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Ajax. He should not bear it so; He should eat swords first: shall pride carry it? Nes. An 'twould, you'd carry half. [Aside. Ulys. He'd have ten shares.


Ajax. I'll knead him, I'll make him supple! Nes. He's not yet thorough warm: force him with praises:

Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. [Aside. Ulys. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. [To AGAMEMNON.

Nes. Our noble general, do not do so. Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles. Ulys. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm. Here is a man-but 't is before his face; I will be silent.


Wherefore should you so?

He is not emulous, as Achilles is.

Ulys. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus with us!

'Would he were a Trojan!

Nes. What a vice were it in Ajax now,-
Ulys. If he were proud?
Dio. Or covetous of praise?
Ulys. Ay, or surly borne?

Dio. Or strange, or self-affected?

Ulys. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet


Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice-famed, beyond all erudition :
But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield

To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor,-
Instructed by the antiquary times,

He must, he is, he cannot but be wise ;-
But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax', and your brain so tempered,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

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SCENE I.-Troy. A Room in PRIAM's Palace.

Enter PANDARUS and a Servant. Pan. Friend! you! pray you, a word: do not you follow the young lord Paris?

Serv. Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean?
Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.

Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman;

I must needs praise him.

Serv. The lord be praised!

Pan. You know me, do not?


Serv. 'Faith, sir, superficially.

Pan. Friend, know me better; I am the lord Pandarus.

Serv. I hope I shall know your honour better. Pan. I do desire it.

Serv. You are in the state of grace.

[Music within. Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles. What music is this?

Serv. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.

Pan. Know you the musicians?

Serv. Wholly, sir.

Pan. Who play they to?

Serv. To the hearers, sir.

Pan. At whose pleasure, friend?

Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
Pan. Command, I mean, friend.
Serv. Who shall I command, sir?

Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning: at whose request do these men play?

Serv. That's to 't, indeed, sir: marry, sir, at the request of Paris, my lord, who is there in person; with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul,

Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida?

Serv. No, sir, Helen: could you not find out that by her attributes?

Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seeths. Serv. Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase, indeed!

Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended.

Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair desires, 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 music. Par. You have broke it, cousin and, by my life, you shall make it whole again; you shall 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 sooth; in good sooth, very rude. Par. Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits. Pan. I have business 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, sweet 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, sweet queen, go to:-commends himself most affectionately to you.

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody; if you do, our melancholy upon your head!

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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'y thee 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.
Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
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 afield to day?

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

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To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
To help unarm our Hector: his stubborn buckles,
With these your white enchanting fingers touched,
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. 'T will make us proud to be his servant,

Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty,
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have;
Yea, overshines ourself.

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

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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 Proposed 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 [Exit. 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 watery palate tastes indeed
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
Too subtle-potent, tuned 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 villain :-she fetches her breath as short as a new ta'en sparrow. [Exit.

Tro. Even such a passion doth embrace my


My heart beats thicker 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

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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 cherubim; 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.

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

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