Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: W. L. Godshalk
Peer Reviewed

Troilus and Cressida (Quarto 1, 1609)


Enter Pandarus.
Pan. Friend you, pray you a word, doe you not follow the
1480yong Lord Paris.
Man. I sir when he goes before mee.
Pan. You depend vpon him I meane.
Man. Sir I do depend vpon the Lord.
Pan. You depend vpon a notable gentleman I must needs
1485praise him.
Man. The Lord be praized?
Pan. You know me? doe you not?
Man. Faith sir superficially.
Pan. Friend know mee better, I am the Lord Pandarus.
1490Man. I hope I shall know your honour better?
Pan. I do desire it.
Man. You are in the state of grace?
Pan. Grace? not so friend, honour and Lordship are my ti-
tles, what musicke is this?
1495Man. I do but partly know sir, it is musick in partes.
Pan. Know you the musicians?
Man. Wholy sir. Pan. Who play they to?
Man. To the hearers sir.
1500Pan. At whose pleasure friend?
Man. At mine sir, and theirs that loue musicke.
Pan. Command I meane:
Man. Who shall I command sir?
Pan. Friend we vnderstand not one another, I am to court-
1505ly and thou to cunning, at whose request do these men play?
Man. Thats to't indeed sir? marry sir, at the request of Pa-
ris my Lord, who is there in person, with him the mortall
Venus, the heart bloud of beauty, loues inuisible soule:
Pan. Who my cozen Cressida.
Man. No sir, Hellen, could not you finde out that by her at-
tributes.
Pan. It should seeme fellow thou hast not seene the Lady
1515Cressid I come to speake with Paris, from the Prince Troy-
lus. I will make a complementall assault vpon him for my
businesse seeth's.
Man. Sodden businesse, theirs a stew'd phrase indeed.
Enter Paris and Hellen.
1520Pan. Faire be to you my Lord, and to al this faire company,
faire desires in all faire measure fairlie guide them, especially
to you faire Queene faire thoughts be your faire pillow.
Hel Dere Lord you are full of faire words:
1525Pan. You speake your faire pleasure sweet Queene,
Faire Prince here is good broken musicke.
Par. You haue broke it cozen: and by my life you shall
make it whole againe, you shall peece it out with a peece of
your performance.
Nel. he is full of harmony:
1530Pan: Truely Lady no: Hel: O sir:
Pan: Rude in sooth, in good sooth very rude.
Paris: Well said my Lord, well, you say so in fits:
Pan. I haue businesse to my Lord deere Queene? my Lord
1535will you vouchsafe me a word.
Hel. Nay this shall not hedge vs out, weele here you sing
certainely:
Pan: Well sweete Queene you are pleasant with mee, but,
marry thus my Lord my deere Lord, and most esteemed
1540friend your brother Troylus.
Hel. My Lord Pandarus hony sweet Lord,
Pan. Go too sweet Queene, go to?
Comends himselfe most affectionatly to you.
Hel. You shall not bob vs out of our melody,
1545If you do our melancholy vpon your head.
Pan. Sweet Queene, sweet Queene, thats a sweet Queene
I faith----------
Hel. And to make a sweet Lady sad is a sower offence.
Pan. Nay that shall not serue your turne, that shall it not
1550in truth la? Nay I care not for such words, no, no. And my
Lord hee desires you that if the King call for him at super.
You will make his excuse.
Hel. My Lord Pandarus.
Pan. What saies my sweete Queenem,y very very sweet
1555Queene?
Par. What exploit's in hand, where suppes he tonight?
Hel. Nay but my Lord?
Pan What saies my sweet Queene? my cozen will fall out
with you.
1560Hel. You must not know where he sups.
Par. Ile lay my life with my disposer Cresseida.
Pan. No, no? no such matter you are wide, come your
disposer is sicke.
Par. Well ile makes excuse?
1565Pan. I good my Lord, why should you say Cresseida, no,
your disposers sick.
Par. I spie?
Pan. You spy? what doe you spie? come, giue mee an in-
strument, now sweete Queene:
1570Hel. Why this is kindely done?
Pan. My Neece is horribly in loue with a thing you haue
sweete Queene.
Hel. Shee shall haue it my Lord, if it bee not my Lord
Paris.
1575Pand. Hee? no? sheele none of him, they two are
tawine.
Hel. Falling in after falling out may make them three.
Pand. Come, come, Ile heare no more of this, Ile sing you a
song now.
1580Hell: I, I, prethee, now by my troth sweet lad thou haste a
fine fore-head.
Pand: I you may, you may.
Hell: Let thy song be loue: this loue will vndoe vs all. Oh
Cupid, Cupid, Cupid.
1585Pand: Loue? I that it shall yfaith.
Par: I good now loue, loue, nothing but loue.
Pand: Loue, loue, nothing but loue,still loue still more:
For o loues bow. Shoots Bucke and Doe.
The shafts confound not that it wounds
But ticles still the sore:
These louers cry, oh ho they dye,
Yet that which seemes the wound to kill,
1595Doth turne oh ho, to ha ha he,
So dying loue liues still,
O ho a while, but ha ha ha,
O ho grones out for ha ha ha ---- hey ho,
Hell: In loue I faith to the very tip of the nose.
1600Par. He eates nothing but doues loue, and that breeds hot
blood, and hot bloud begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts
beget hot deedes, and hot deeds is loue.
Pand. Is this the generation of loue: hot bloud hot
thoughts and hot deedes, why they are vipers, is loue a ge-
1605neration of vipers:
Sweete Lord whose a field to day?
Par: Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Anthenor, and all the gal-
lantry of Troy.. I would faine haue arm'd to day, but my Nell
would not haue it so.
1610How chance my brother Troylus went not?
Hell: He hangs the lippe at something, you know al Lord
Pandarus.
Pand: Not I hony sweete Queene, I long to heare how
they sped to day:
1615Youle remember your brothers excuse?
Par: To a hayre.
Pand: Farewell sweete Queene.
Hell. Commend me to your neece.
Pand. I will sweet Queene.
Sound a retreat?
1620Par: Their come from the field: let vs to Priames Hall
To greete the warriers. Sweet Hellen I must woe you,
To helpe vn-arme our Hector: his stubborne bucles
With this your white enchaunting fingers toucht;
Shall more obey then to the edge of steele,
1625Or force of Greekish sinewes: you shall do more
Then all the Iland Kinges, disarme great Hector.
Hell: Twil make vs proud to be his seruant Paris}?
Yea what he shall receiue of vs in duty,
Giues vs more palme in beauty then we haue.
1630Yea ouershines our selfe.
Par: Sweet aboue thought I loue her?
Exeunt.