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Dio...

The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so. , On, lord; we'll follow you.
Æne. Good morrow, all.

[Exit.
Par. And tell me, noble Diomed; 'faith, tell me true,
Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,
Who, in your thoughts, merits fair Helen best,
Myself, or Menelaus?

• Both alike:
He merits well to have her, that doth seek her
(Not making any scruple of her soilure),
With such a hell of pain, and world of charge;
And you as well to keep her, that defend her
(Not palating the taste of her dishonour),
With such a costly loss of wealth and friends :
He, like a paling cuckold, would drink up
The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors:
Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more;
But be as he, the heavier for a whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman.

Dio. She's bitter to her country: Hear me, Paris,
For every false drop in her bawdy veins
A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple
Of her contaminated carrion weight,
A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak,
She hath not given so many good words breath,
As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death.

Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy: '
But we in silence hold this virtue well,
We'll not commend what we intend to sell.
Here lies our way.

[Ereunt. SCENE II. The same. Court before the House of PANDARUS.

Enter Troilus and CRESSIDA. Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold.

Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down; He shall unbolt the gates.

Tro.

Trouble him not;
To bed, to hed: Sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses,
As infants’empty of all thought!
Cres. -

Good morrow then.
Tro. Pr’ythee now, to bed.
Cres.

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 longer, I would not from thee. Cres.

Night hath been too brief. Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wigbts 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.

Prythee, tarry;-
You men will never 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?

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, coine; beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er

be good, Nor suffer others.:

Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia! -hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naugbly man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him! [Knocking.

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We must give up to Diomedes'"hand
The lady Cressida.
Tro..

Is it so concluded ?
Æne. 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.

Æne. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of natnre Have not more gift in taciturnity.'

[Exeunt Troilus and Æneas. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The đevil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor: I would, they had bro! neck!

Enter CRESSIDA. Cres. How now? Wbat is the matter? Wbo was here? Pan, Ah, ah! Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord

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

Pun. '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 :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; 'lwill be his bane; be 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.- 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.
Cres. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised

cheeks; Crack niy clear voice with sobs, and break my heart With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy.

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SCENE 1II. The same. Before PANDARUS' House. Enter Paris, TROILUS, Æneas, DeiPHOBUS,

ANTENOR, und 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.
Tro.

* Walk in to her house;
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. [Exit.

Par. I know what 'tis to love;
And 'would, as I shall pity, I could help!-
Please you, walk in, my lords.

[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
The same. A Room in PANDARUS' House. .

Enter PANDARUS and Cressida.
Pan. Be inoderate, be moderate.

Cres. Why tell you me of moderation?
The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,
And violenteth in a sense as strong i
As that which causeth it: How can I moderate it?
If I could temporize with my affection, '

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