Troilus and Cressida (Modern)
Peer Reviewed
1477.1
[3.1]
¶Servant Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
¶Pandarus You depend upon him, I mean.
¶Servant Sir, I do depend upon the Lord.
¶Servant The Lord be praised.
¶Pandarus You know me, do you not?
¶Servant Faith, sir, superficially.
¶Pandarus Friend, know me better; I am the lord Pandarus.
1490Servant I hope I shall know your honor better.
¶Pandarus I do desire it.
¶Servant You are in the state of grace?
1495Servant I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.
¶Pandarus Know you the musicians?
¶Servant Wholly, sir.
¶Pandarus Who play they to?
¶Servant To the hearers, sir.
1500Pandarus At whose pleasure, friend?
¶Servant At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
¶Pandarus "Command," I mean, friend.
¶Servant Who shall I command, sir?
¶Pandarus Friend, we understand not one another. I am too 1505courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whose request do ¶these men play?
¶Servant That's to't indeed, sir. Marry, sir, at the request ¶of Paris, my lord, who's there in person, with him the ¶mortal Venus, the heart blood of beauty, love's invisible 1510soul.
¶Pandarus Who? My cousin Cressida?
¶Pandarus It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the 1515lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the ¶prince Troilus. I will make a complimental assault upon ¶him, for my business seethes.
¶Servant Sodden business? There's a stewed phrase indeed.
¶
Enter Paris and Helen.
1520Pandarus 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.
1525Pandarus You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. ¶ -- Fair prince, here is good broken music.
¶Paris 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.
1530Pandarus Truly, lady, no.
¶Helen O sir --
¶Pandarus Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
¶Paris Well said, my lord; well, you say so in fits.
¶Pandarus Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. ¶ -- But, marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and most 1540esteemed friend, your brother Troilus --
¶Helen My lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord --
¶Helen And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offense.
¶Pandarus Nay, that shall not serve your turn, that shall it 1550not, 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 will make his excuse.
¶Helen My lord Pandarus?
¶Paris What exploit's in hand? Where sups he tonight?
¶Helen Nay, but my lord?
¶Paris With my disposer, Cressida?
¶Paris Well, I'll make excuse.
¶Paris I spy.
1570Helen Why, this is kindly done.
¶Helen Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.
¶Pandarus Ay, you may, you may.
1585Pandarus Love? Ay, that it shall, i'faith.
¶Paris Ay, good now: "Love, love, nothing but love."
¶Pandarus In good truth, it begins so.
[Sings]
¶Love, love, nothing but love, still more:
¶For, O, love's bow,
1590Shoots buck and doe;
¶The shaft confounds not that it wounds,
¶But tickles still the sore.
¶These lovers cry, "Oh, ho," they die;
¶Yet that which seems the wound to kill
1595Doth turn "Oh, ho," to "ha ha he."
¶So dying love lives still.
¶"Oh, ho," awhile, but "ha ha ha."
¶"Oh, ho," groans out for "ha ha ha" -- hey-ho.
¶Helen In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the nose.
1600Paris 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.
¶Pandarus Is this the generation of love? Hot blood, hot ¶thoughts, and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a 1605generation of vipers? ¶-- Sweet lord, who's afield today?
¶Paris Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the ¶gallantry of Troy. I would fain have armed today, but ¶my Nell would not have it so. 1610How chance my brother Troilus went not?
¶Pandarus Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how ¶they sped today. 1615 -- You'll remember your brother's excuse?
¶Paris To a hair.
¶Pandarus Farewell, sweet queen.
¶Helen Commend me to your niece.
¶Pandarus I will, sweet queen.
Sound a retreat.
1620Paris They're come from field; let us to Priam's hall
¶To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
¶To help unarm our Hector; his stubborn buckles,
¶With these your white enchanting fingers touched,
¶Shall more obey than to the edge of steel
1625Or force of Greekish sinews. You shall do more
¶Than all the island kings -- disarm great Hector.
¶Helen 'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris:
¶Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty
¶Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
1630Yea, overshines ourself.
¶Sweet, above thought, I love thee.
Exeunt.
