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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,

u 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 as 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 opon your head!

Pan. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i'faith.

Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad, is a sour offence.

Pan. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no.-And, my lord, he desires you, that, 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? wbere 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; come, your disposer is sick.

Par. Well, I'll make excuse.

Pan. Ay, good, my lord. Why should you say, Cressida? no, your poor disposer's sick.

Par. I spy.

Pan. You spy! what do you spy?-Come, give me 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, prythee 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! awhile, 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 ; rand 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 tonight, 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 Priam's hall.
To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
To help unąrm 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. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same. PANDARUS' Orchard.

Enter PANDARUS and a Servant, meeting.
Pan. How now? Where's thy master? at my cousin
Serv. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.

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 Slaying for wattage. '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 watery 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 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 encountring 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 back ward, we'll put you i'the fills.-Why do you not speak

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