We must give up to Diomedes' hand 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, [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! Enter CRESSIDA. Cres. How now? What is the matter? Who was here? Pan. Ah, ah! Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord gone? Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter? 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:-0 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. Cres. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father; No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me, Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood, If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death, Drawing all things to it.-I'll go in, and weep ;- 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, ÆNEAS, DEIPHOBUS," ANTENOR, and DIOMEDES. Par. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd Comes fast upon :-Good, my brother Troilus, And haste her to the purpose. Walk in to her house; Tro. And 'would, as I shall pity, I could help!— The same. [Exit. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. 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, And violenteth in a sense as strong As that which causeth it: How can I moderate it? If I could temporize with my affection, Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks! Cres. O Troilus! Troilus!'. [Embracing him. Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here? Let me embrace too: O heart,-as the goodly saying is, -O heart, O heavy heart, Why sigh'st thou without breaking? where he answers again, Because thou canst not ease thy smart, By friendship, nor by speaking. There never was a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse; we see it, we see it.-How now, lambs? Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity, Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case. Cres. And is it true, that I must go from Troy? Cres. What, and from Troilus too? Tro. From Troy, and Troilus. Is it possible? Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how: With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them, And scants us with a single famish'd kiss, Ene. [Within] My lord, is the lady ready? Tro. Hark! you are call'd: Some say, the Genius so Cries, Come! to him that instantly must die.Bid them have patience; she shall come anon. Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root! [Exit Pan Cres. I must then to the Greeks? Tro. No remedy. Cres. A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!-When shall we see again?. Tro. Hear ine, my love: Be thou but true of heart, Cres. I true! how now? what wicked deem is this? Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly, For it is parting from us : I speak not, be thou true, as fearing thee; Cres. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers As infinite as imminent! but, I'll be true. Tro. And I'll grow friend with danger. sleeve. Wear this Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see you? To give thee nightly visitation. But yet, be true. Cres. O heavens!-be true, again! Tro. Hear why I speak it, love; The Grecian youths are full of quality; They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature flowing, And swelling o'er with arts and exercise; (Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin), Makes me afeard. Cres. O heavens! you love me not. Tro. Die I a villain then! In this I do not call your faith in question, To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant: Tro. No. But something may be done, that we will not: Tro. Come, kiss; and let us part. Par. [Within] Brother Troilus! Tro. Good brother, come you hither; Tro. Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault : Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns, Enter ENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, and Welcome, sir Diomed! here is the lady, At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hands |