The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

What is aught, but as 'tis valued Hect. But value dwells not in particular will; It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry,

To make the service greater than the god;
And the will dotes, that is attributive
To what infectiously itself affects,
Without some image of the affected merit.
Tro. I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will;
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
Of will and judgment: How may I avoid,
Although my will distaste what it elected,
The wife I chose ? there can be no evasion
To blench from this, and to stand firm by ho-

nour:

We turn not back the silks upon the merchant, When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder viands

We do not throw in unrespective sieve,
Because we now are full. It was thought meet,
Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks:
Your breath with full consent bellied his sails;
The seas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce,
And did him service! he touch'd the ports de-
sir'd;

And, for an old aunt, whom the Greeks held cap

tive, He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness

Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes pale the morning. Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt: Is she worth keeping? Why, she is a pearl, Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,

And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
If you'll avouch, 'twas wisdom Paris went
(As you must needs, for you all cry'd-Go. go,)
If you'll confess, he brought home noble prize,
(As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your
hands,

And cry'd-Inestimable !) why do you now
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate;
And do a deed that fortune never did,
Beggar the estimation which you priz'd
Richer than sea and land? O theft most base;
That we have stolen what we do fear to keep!
But, thieves, unworthy of a thing so stolen,
That in their country did them that disgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native place!

Cas. [Within Cry, Trojans, cry!

Pri.

What noise what shriek is this? Tro. 'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice. Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojans! Hect. It is Cassandra.

Enter Cassandra, raving.

Cas. Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes,

And I will fill them with prophetick tears.
Hect. Peace, sister, peace.

Cas. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders,

Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
Add to my clamours! let us pay betimes
A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stan 1;
Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.
Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen, and a wo:
Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go. [Exit
Hect. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high

Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel,
Which hath our several honours all engag'd
To make it gracious. For my private part,
I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons:
And Jove forbid, there should be done amongst us
Such things as might offend the weakest spleen
To fight for and maintain!

Par. Else might the world convince of levity,
As well my undertakings, as your counsels:
But I attest the gods, your full consent
Gave wings to my propension, and cut off
All fears attending on so dire a project.
For what, alas! can these my single arms?
What propugnation is in one man's valour,
To stand the push and enmity of those
This quarrel would excite? Yet I protest,
Were I alone to pass the difficulties,
And had as ample power as I have will,
Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done,
Nor faint in the pursuit.

Pri.

Paris, you speak

Like one besotted on your sweet delights:
You have the honey still, but these the gall;
So to be valiant is no praise at all.

Par. Sir, I propose not merely to myself
The pleasures such a beanty brings with it;
But I would have the soil of her fair rape
Wip'd off, in honourable keeping her.
What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,
Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,
Now to deliver her possession up,
On terms of base compulsion? Can it be,
That so degenerate a strain as this
Should once set footing in your generous bo-
soms?

There's not the meanest spirit on our party,
Without a heart to dare, or sword to draw,
When Helen is defended; nor none so noble,
Whose life were ill bestow'd, or death unfam'd,
Where Helen is the subject: then, I say,
Well may we fight for her, whom we know well,
The world's large spaces cannot parallel.
Hect. Paris, and Troilus, you have both said well;
And on the cause and question now in hand
Have gloz'd,-but superficially; not much
Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought
Unfit to hear moral philosophy:

The reasons, you allege, do more conduce

To the hot passion of distemper'd blood,
Than to make up a free determination
"Twixt right and wrong; For pleasure, and

venge,

terfeit, thou wouldest not have slipped out of my contemplation: but it is no matter; Thyself re-upon thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death! then if she, that lays thee out, says-thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon 't, she never shrouded any but lazars. Amen.-Where's Achilles?

Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice
Of any true decision. Nature craves,
All dues be render'd to their owners; Now
What nearer debt in all humanity,
Than wife is to the husband? if this law
Of nature be corrupted through affection;
And that great minds, of partial indulgence
To their benumbed wills, resist the same;
There is a law in each well order'd nation,
To curb those raging appetites that are
Most disobedient and refractory.
If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king,-
As it is known she is,-these moral laws
Of nature, and of nations, speak aloud
To have her back return'd: Thus to persist
In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong,
But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opi-

nion

Is this, in way of truth; yet, ne'ertheless,
My sprightly brethren, I propend to you
In resolution to keep Helen still;

For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance
Ur on our joint and several dignities.

Tro. Why, there you touch'd the life of our
design:

Were it not glory that we more affected
Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood
Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a theme of honour and renown;
A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds;
Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
And fame, in time to come, canonize us:
For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose
So rich advantage of a promis'd glory,
As smiles upon the forehead of this action,
For the wide world's revenue.

Hect.

I am yours,

You valiant offspring of great Priamus.-
I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks,
Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits:
I was advertis'd, their great general slept,
Whilst emufation in the army crept;
This, I presume, will wake him.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

The Grecian Camp. Before Achilles' Tent.
Enter Thersites.

Ther. How now, Thersites? what, lost in the labyrinth of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus ? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! 'would, it were other wise; that I could beat him, whilst he railed at me: ''Sfoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer. If Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove the king of gods; and, Mercury,lose all the serpentine craft of thy Caduceus; if ye take not that little little-less-than-little wit from them that they have! which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing their massy irons, and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse dependant on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil, envy, say Amen. What, ho! my lord Achilles !

Enter Patroclus.

Patr. Who's there? Thersites ? Good Ther sites, come in and rail.

Patr. What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer ?

Ther. If I could have remembered a gilt coun-I

Ther. Ay; the heavens hear me !
Enter Achilles.

Achil. Who's there?

Patr. Thersites, my lord.

Achil. Where, where ?-Art thou come? Why my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou no served thyself in to my table so many meals Come, what's Agamemnon?

Ther. Thy commander, Achilles:-Then tel me, Patroclus, what's Achilles?

Patr. Thy lord, Thersites; Then tell me, I pray thee, what's thyself?

Patroclus, what art thou 7

Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus; Then tell me,

Patr. Thou mayest tell, that knowest.
Achil. O, tell, teil.

Ther. I'll decline the whole question. Aga memnon commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and Patroclus is a fool.

Patr. You rascal!

Ther. Peace, fool; I have not done.

Achil. He is a privileged man.-Proceed,

Thersites.

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.

Achil. Derive this; come.

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles; Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool; and Patroclus is a fool positive. Patr. Why am I a fool ?

Ther. Make that demand of the prover.-It suffices me, thou art. Look you, who comes here? Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, and Ajax.

[Eril

Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody:Come in with me, Thersites. [Exit. Ther. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery! all the argument is, a cuck old, and a whore; a good quarrel, to draw emulous factions, and bleed to death upon! Now the dry serpigo on the subject! and war, and lechery, confound all! Agam. Where is Achilles? Patr. Within his tent; but ill dispos'd, my lord. Agam. Let it be known to him, that we are He shent our messengers; and we lay by Our appertainments, visiting of him: Let him be told so; lest, perchance, ne think We dare not move the question of our place, Or know not what we are.

here.

Patr.
I shall say so to him. [Ezit.
Ulys. We saw him at the opening of his tent;
He is not sick.

Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart; you
may call it melancholy, if you will favour the
man; but, by my head, 'tis pride: But why,
why? let him show us a cause.-A word, ny
lord.
[Takes Agamemnon aside.
Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
Ulyss. Achilles hath inveighed his fool from

him.

Nest. Who? Thersites ?
Ulyss. He.

Nest. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.

Ulyss. No; you see he is his argument, that Das his argument; Achilles.

Nest. All the better; their fraction is more our wish, than their faction: But it was a strong composure, a fool could disunite.

Ulyss. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. Here comes Patroclus. Re-enter Patroclus.

Nest. No Achilles with him.

Ulyss. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

Patr. Achilles bids me say-he is much sorry, If any thing more than your sport and pleasure Did move your greatness, and this noble state, To call upon him; he hopes it is no other, But, for your health and your digestion sake, An after-dinner's breath.

Agam.
Hear you, Patroclus;-
We are too well acquainted with these answers;
But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehensions.

Much attribute he hath and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his virtues,
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,-
Do, in our eyes, begin to lose their gloss;
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
We come to speak with him: And you shall not
sin,

If you do say-We think him over-proud,
And under-honest; in self-assumption greater,
Than in the note of judgment, and worthier than
himself

Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on;
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as it
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go, tell him this; and aad,
That, if he overhold his price so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie under this report-
Bring action hither, this cannot go to war :
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
Before a sleeping giant :-Tell him so.
Patr. I shall; and bring his answer presently.

Agam. In second voice we'll not be satisfied, We come to speak with him.-Ulysses, enter.

Untent his person, and share the air with us? Ulyss. Things small as notning, for request's sake only,

He makes important: Possess'd he is with great.

r.ess;

And speaks not to himself, but with a pride
That quarrels at self-breath: imagin'd worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse,
That, 'twixt his mental and his active parts,
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters down himself: What should I say?
He is so plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it
Cry-No recovery.
Agam
Let Ajax go to him.-
Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:
"Tis said he holds you well; and will be led,
At your request, a little from himself.
Ulyss. O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
When they go from Achilles; Shall the proud
lord,

That bastes his arrogance with his own seam;
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts,-save such as do revolve
And ruminate himself,-shall he be worshipp'd
Of that we hold an idol more than he ?
No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,

By going to Achilles :

That were to enlard his fat-already pride;
And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.
This lord go to him I Jupiter forbid,
And say in thunder-Achilles, go to him.
Nest. O, this is well; he rubs the vein of him.

[Aside.

[Exit.

Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow !

Nest.

How he describes

Erit Ulysses.

Ajax. Ulyss.

Can he not be sociable ?

The raven [Aside.

Ajax. What is he more than another? Agam. No more than what he thinks he is. Ajar. Is he so much? Do you not think, he thinks himself a better man than I am? Agam. No question.

Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and say -he is 7

Agam. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

Ajar. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow I know not what pride is.

Agam. Your mind's the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer. He that is proud, eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle: and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise. Ajar. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

Nest. And yet he loves himself: Is it not strange?

Re-enter Ulysses.

[Aside.

Ulyss. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow. Agam, What's his excuse? Vlyss. He doth rely on none; But carries on the stream of his dispose, Without observance or respect of any, In will peculiar and in self-admission. Agam. Why will he not, upon our fair request,

I will let his humours blood.

[Aside.

Agam. He'll be the physician, that should be the patient. Ajax. An all men Were o' my mind,

Ulyss. Wit would be out of fashion. [Aside.
Ajax. He should not bear it so,

He should eat swords first: Shall pride carry it?
Nest. An 'twould, you'd carry half.
[Aside.
Ulyss.
He'd have ten shares. Aside.
Ajax. I'll knead him, I will make him supple:-
Nest. He's not yet thorough warm: force him

Dio. Or covetous of praise?
Ulyss.

What a vice

If he were proud 7

Ay, or surly borne
Dio. Or strange, or self-affected?
Ulyss. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of
sweet composure;
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck;
Fam'd be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice-fam'd beyond all erudition:
But he that disciplin'd 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
Instructed by the antiquary times,

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. queen-Fair prince, here is good broken musick. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet Nestor,-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.

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

Ajax.

Shall I call you father?

Nest. Ay, my good son.

Dio. Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax.

Ulyss. There is no tarrying here: the

Achilles

hart

Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
To call together all his state of war;
Fresh kings are come to Troy: To-morrow,
We must with all our main of power stand fast:
And here's a lord,-come knights from east to
west,

And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
Agam. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw
deep.
[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. Troy.

A Room in Priam's Palace.
Enter Pandarus and a Servant.

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!
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

Pan. Friend! you; pray you, a word: Do not will make his excuse.
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 you 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.

Helen. My lord Pandarus,

Pan. What says my sweet queen,-my very very sweet queen?

Par. What exploit's in hand? where 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 Cres

sida.

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 lord--Cressida ? no, your poor disposer's sick. Par. I spy.

Serv. You are in the state of grace. Musick within. Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honour and ship are my titles:-What musick is this? Serv. I do but partly know, sir; it is musick 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?

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.

Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love musick. Pan. He! no, she'll none of him: they two

Pun. 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 ?

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'ythee 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 !

That it enchants my sense; What will it be,

Pan. Love! ay, that it shall, i' faith.
Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but When that the watry palate tastes indeed

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; 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 a-field to-day?

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

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 tear 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 encount'ring
The eye of majesty.

Enter Pandarus and Cressida.

Pan. Come, come, what need you blush 7 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 your picture. Alas the day, how loath you are

Pan. Not I, honey-sweet queen.-I long to hear how they sped to-day.-You'll remember to offend daylight! an 'twere dark, you'd close your brother's excuse?

sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress; How now, a kiss in fee-farm! build there carpenter the air is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out, ere I part you. The falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i' the river: go to, go to.

Tro. You have bereft me of all words, lady. Pan. Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but she'll bereave you of the deeds too, if she call your activity in question. What, billing again? Here's-In witness whereof the parties interchangeably-Come in, come in; I'll go get [Exit Pandarus. Cres. Will you walk in, my lord? Tro. O, Cressida, how often have I wished me

a fire.

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.thus.
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 Cressida's?

Serv. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him

thither.

Enter Troilus.

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
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.
[Erit Pandarus.
Tro. I am giddy: expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relish is so sweet

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 cherubims: they never see truly.

safer footing than blind reason stumbling with Cres. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds out 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 any difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady-that the will is infinite, and the execution confined; that the desire is boundless,

and the act a slave to limit.

Cres. They say, all lovers swear more per formance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lious, and the act of hares, are they not monsters?

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: From the Text of the Corrected ...