PANDARUS. Here! What should he do here?

AENEAS. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him.

It doth import him much to speak with me.

PANDARUS. Is he here, say you? It's more than I know, I'll be sworn. For my own part, I came in late. What should he do here?

AENEAS. Who!-nay, then. Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are ware; you'll be so true to him to be false to him. Do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither; go.

Re-enter TROILUS

TROILUS. How now! What's the matter?

AENEAS. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, My matter is so rash. There is at hand Paris your brother, and Deiphobus, The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith, Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, We must give up to Diomedes' hand The Lady Cressida.

TROILUS. Is it so concluded?

AENEAS. By Priam, and the general state of Troy.

They are at hand and ready to effect it.

TROILUS. How my achievements mock me!

I will go meet them; and, my lord Aeneas, We met by chance; you did not find me here.

AENEAS. Good, good, my lord, the secrets of neighbour Pandar Have not more gift in taciturnity.

Exeunt TROILUS and AENEAS PANDARUS. 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.

Re-enter CRESSIDA

CRESSIDA. How now! What's the matter? Who was here?

PANDARUS. Ah, ah!

CRESSIDA. Why sigh you so profoundly? Where's my lord? Gone? Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?

PANDARUS. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!

CRESSIDA. O the G.o.ds! What's the matter?

PANDARUS. Pray thee, get thee in. Would thou hadst ne'er been born!

I knew thou wouldst be his death! O, poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!

CRESSIDA. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, what's the matter?

PANDARUS. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art chang'd for Antenor; thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus. 'Twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.

CRESSIDA. O you immortal G.o.ds! I will not go.

PANDARUS. Thou must.

CRESSIDA. 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. O you G.o.ds 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- PANDARUS. Do, do.

CRESSIDA. 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

ACT IV. SCENE 3.

Troy. A street before PANDARUS' house

Enter PARIS, TROILUS, AENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, and DIOMEDES

PARIS. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd For 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.

TROILUS. Walk into 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 off'ring to it his own heart.

Exit PARIS. I know what 'tis to love, And would, as I shall pity, I could help!

Please you walk in, my lords.

Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE 4.

Troy. PANDARUS' house

Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA

PANDARUS. Be moderate, be moderate.

CRESSIDA. 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 affections Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, The like allayment could I give my grief.

My love admits no qualifying dross; No more my grief, in such a precious loss.

Enter TROILUS

PANDARUS. Here, here, here he comes. Ah, sweet ducks!

CRESSIDA. O Troilus! Troilus! [Embracing him]

PANDARUS. 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?

where he answers again Because thou canst not ease thy smart By friendship nor by speaking.

There was never 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!

TROILUS. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity That the bless'd G.o.ds, as angry with my fancy, More bright in zeal than the devotion which Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me.

CRESSIDA. Have the G.o.ds envy?

PANDARUS. Ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.

CRESSIDA. And is it true that I must go from Troy?

TROILUS. A hateful truth.

CRESSIDA. What, and from Troilus too?

TROILUS. From Troy and Troilus.

CRESSIDA. Is't possible?

TROILUS. And suddenly; where injury of chance 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.

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.

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.

AENEAS. [Within] My lord, is the lady ready?

TROILUS. 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.

PANDARUS. Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by th' root?

Exit CRESSIDA. I must then to the Grecians?

TROILUS. No remedy.

CRESSIDA. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!

When shall we see again?

TROILUS. Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart- CRESSIDA. I true! how now! What wicked deem is this?

TROILUS. 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 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.

CRESSIDA. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers As infinite as imminent! But I'll be true.

TROILUS. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.

CRESSIDA. And you this glove. When shall I see you?

TROILUS. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels To give thee nightly visitation.

But yet be true.

CRESSIDA. O heavens! 'Be true' again!