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The Same. A Room in PANDARUS’ House. | |
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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, | 5 |
| 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, | |
| The like allayment could I give my grief: | 10 |
| My love admits no qualifying dross; | |
| No more my grief, in such a precious loss. | |
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Enter TROILUS. | |
| Pan. Here, here, here he comes. Ah! sweet ducks. | |
| Cres. [Embracing him.] O Troilus! Troilus! | 15 |
Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too. ‘O heart,’ as the goodly saying is,— | O heart, heavy heart, |
| Why sigh’st thou without breaking? |
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when he answers again, | Because thou canst not ease thy smart |
| By friendship nor by speaking. |
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| There was never a truer rime. 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, | |
| That the bless’d gods, as angry with my fancy, | 20 |
| More bright in zeal than the devotion which | |
| Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me. | |
| Cres. Have the gods envy? | |
| Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; ’tis too plain a case. | |
| Cres. And is it true that I must go from Troy? | 25 |
| Tro. A hateful truth. | |
| Cres. What! and from Troilus too? | |
| Tro. From Troy and Troilus. | |
| Cres. Is it possible? | |
| Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance | 30 |
| Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by | |
| All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips | |
| Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents | |
| Our lock’d embrasures, strangles our dear vows | |
| Even in the birth of our own labouring breath. | 35 |
| We two, that with so many thousand sighs | |
| Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves | |
| With the rude brevity and discharge of one. | |
| Injurious time now with a robber’s haste | |
| Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how: | 40 |
| As many farewells as be stars in heaven, | |
| With distinct breath and consign’d kisses to them, | |
| He fumbles up into a loose adieu, | |
| And scants us with a single famish’d kiss, | |
| Distasted with the salt of broken tears. | 45 |
| Æne. [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. | 50 |
| Cres. I must then to the Grecians? | |
| Tro. No remedy. | |
| Cres. A woeful Cressid ’mongst the merry Greeks! | |
| When shall we see again? | |
| Tro. Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart,— | 55 |
| 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, | |
| For I will throw my glove to Death himself, | 60 |
| That there’s no maculation in thy heart; | |
| But, ‘be thou true,’ say I, to fashion in | |
| My sequent protestation; be thou true, | |
| And I will see thee. | |
| Cres. O! you shall be expos’d, my lord, to dangers | 65 |
| As infinite as imminent; but I’ll be true. | |
| Tro. And I’ll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve. | |
| Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see you? | |
| Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels, | |
| To give thee nightly visitation. | 70 |
| 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, | 75 |
| Flowing and swelling o’er with arts and exercise: | |
| How novelty may move, and parts with person, | |
| Alas! a kind of godly jealousy,— | |
| Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,— | |
| Makes me afear’d. | 80 |
| Cres. O heavens! you love me not. | |
| Tro. Die I a villain, then! | |
| In this I do not call your faith in question | |
| So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing, | |
| Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk, | 85 |
| Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all, | |
| To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant: | |
| But I can tell that in each grace of these | |
| There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil | |
| That tempts most cunningly. But be not tempted. | 90 |
| Cres. Do you think I will? | |
| Tro. No. | |
| But something may be done that we will not: | |
| And sometimes we are devils to ourselves | |
| When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, | 95 |
| Presuming on their changeful potency. | |
| Æne. [Within.] Nay, good my lord,— | |
| Tro. Come, kiss; and let us part. | |
| Par. [Within.] Brother Troilus! | |
| Tro. Good brother, come you hither; | 100 |
| And bring Æneas and the Grecian with you. | |
| Cres. My lord, will you be true? | |
| Tro. Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault: | |
| While others fish with craft for great opinion, | |
| I with great truth catch mere simplicity; | 105 |
| Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns, | |
| With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. | |
| Fear not my truth; the moral of my wit | |
| Is plain, and true; there’s all the reach of it. | |
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Enter ÆNEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, and DIOMEDES. | 110 |
| Welcome, Sir Diomed! Here is the lady | |
| Which for Antenor we deliver you: | |
| At the port, lord, I’ll give her to thy hand, | |
| And by the way possess thee what she is. | |
| Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek, | 115 |
| If e’er thou stand at mercy of my sword, | |
| Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe | |
| As Priam is in Ilion. | |
| Dio. Fair Lady Cressid, | |
| So please you, save the thanks this prince expects: | 120 |
| The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek, | |
| Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed | |
| You shall be mistress, and command him wholly. | |
| Tro. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously, | |
| To shame the zeal of my petition to thee | 125 |
| In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece, | |
| She is as far high-soaring o’er thy praises | |
| As thou unworthy to be call’d her servant. | |
| I charge thee use her well, even for my charge; | |
| For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not, | 130 |
| Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard, | |
| I’ll cut thy throat. | |
| Dio. O! be not mov’d, Prince Troilus: | |
| Let me be privileg’d by my place and message | |
| To be a speaker free; when I am hence, | 135 |
| I’ll answer to my lust; and know you, lord, | |
| I’ll nothing do on charge: to her own worth | |
| She shall be priz’d; but that you say ‘be ’t so,’ | |
| I’ll speak it in my spirit and honour, ‘no.’ | |
| Tro. Come, to the port. I’ll tell thee, Diomed, | 140 |
| This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head. | |
| Lady, give me your hand, and, as you walk, | |
| To our own selves bend we our needful talk. [Exeunt TROILUS, CRESSIDA, and DIOMEDES. Trumpet sounded. | |
| Par. Hark! Hector’s trumpet. | |
| Æne. How have we spent this morning! | 145 |
| The prince must think me tardy and remiss, | |
| That swore to ride before him to the field. | |
| Par. ’Tis Troilus’ fault. Come, come, to field with him. | |
| Dei. Let us make ready straight. | |
| Æne. Yea, with a bridegroom’s fresh alacrity, | 150 |
| Let us address to tend on Hector’s heels: | |
| The glory of our Troy doth this day lie | |
| On his fair worth and single chivalry. [Exeunt. | |
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