7080As wedged with a sigh would riue in twaine,

7181Least Hector or my father should perceiue mee:

7282I haue (as when the Sunne doth light a scorne)

7383Buried this sigh in wrincle of a smyle,

7484But sorrow that is coucht in seeming gladnesse,

7585Is like that mirth fate turnes to suddaine sadnesse.

7686Pan: And her haire were not some-what darker then Hel-

7787lens, well go to, there were no more comparison betweene

7888the women! but for my part she is my kinswoman, I would

7989not as they tearme it praise her, but I would som-body had

8090heard her talke yester-day as I did, I will not dispraise your

8191sister Cassandraes wit, but-------

8292Troy. Oh Pandarus I tell thee Pandarus,

8393When I do tell thee there my hopes lie drown'd

8494Reply not in how many fadomes deepe,

8595They lie indrench'd, I tell thee I am madde:

8696In Cressi}ds love? thou answerst she is faire,

8797Powrest in the open vlcer of my heart:

8898Her eyes, her haire her cheeke, her gate, her voice,

8999Handlest in thy discourse: O that her hand

90100In whose comparison all whites are ynke

91101Writing their owne reproch; to whose soft seisure,

92102The cignets downe is harsh, and spirit of sence:

93103Hard as the palme of plow-man; this thou telst me,

94104As true thou telst me, when I say I loue her,

95105But saying thus in steed of oyle and balme,

96106Thou layst in euery gash that loue hath giuen mee

97107The knife that made it.

98108Pan: I speake no more then truth.

99109Troy. Thou dost not speake so much.

100110Pan: Faith Ile not meddle in it, let her bee as shee is, if she

101111bee faire tis the better for her, and shee bee not, she has the

102112mends in her owne hands.

103113Troy. Good Pandarus, how now Pandarus?

104114Pan: I haue had my labour for my trauell, ill thought on

105115of her, and ill thought of you, gon betweene and betweene,

106116but small thanks for my labour.

107117Troy. What art thou angry Pandarus? what with me?