Par. I'll lay my life,

with my difpoufer Creffida. Pan. No, no, no fuch matter, you are wide; come, your difpoufer is fick.

Par. Well, I'll make excufe.

Pan. Ay, good my lord; why should you fay, Creffida? no, your poor dispouser's fick.

Par. I fpy

Pan. You fpy, what do you spy? come, give me an inftrument now, fweet Queen.

Helen. Why, this is kindly done.

Pan. My neice is horribly in love with a thing you have, fweet Queen.

Helen. She fhall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris.

Pan. He? no, fhe'll none of him, they two are twain.

Helen. Falling in after falling out, may make them three.

Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this. I'll fing you a fong now.

Helen. Ay, ay, pr'ythee now; by my troth, sweet lord, thou haft a fine fore-head.

Pan. Ay, you may, you may

Helen. Let thy fong be love: this love will undo us all. Oh, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!

1

Pan. Love!-ay, that it fhall, i' faith.

Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. Pan. In good troth, it begins fo.

Love, love, nothing but love, ftill more :

For O, love's bow

Shoots buck and doe;

The shaft confounds

Not that it wounds,

But tickles ftill the fore.

with my DISPOSER Creffida.] I think difpofer should, in

thefe places, be read DISPOUSER; fhe that would separate Heles

from him.

Thefe lovers cry, ob! oh! they dye:
Yet That, which feems the wound to kill,
Doth turn, ob! ob! to ha, ha, be:
So dying love lives ftill.

O bo, a while; but ha, ha, ha;

O bo groans out for ha, ha, babey bo!

Helen. In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nofe! Par. 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 are love.

Pan. Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot thoughts, and hot deeds? why they are vipers; is love a generation of vipers?-Sweet lord, who's a-field to day?

Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy. I would fain have arm'd to day, but my Nell would not have it fo. How chance my brother Troilus went not?

Helen. He hangs the lip at fomething; you know all, lord Pandarus.

Pan. Not I, honey fweet Queen: I long to hear how they sped to day. You'll remember your brother's excufe?

Par. To a hair.

Pan. Farewel, fweet Queen.

Helen. Commend me to your neice.

Pan. I will, fweet Queen. [Exit. Sound a Retreat.
Par. They're come from field: let us to Priam's
Hall,

To greet the warriors-Sweet Helen, I muft woo you
To help unarm our Hector: his ftubborn buckles,
With thefe your white enchanting fingers toucht,
Shall more obey, than to the edge of fteel,
Or force of Greekifh finews: you shall do more
Than all the island Kings, difarm great Hector.

Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his fervant, Paris:

Yea,

Yea, what he fhall receive of us in duty
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
Yea, over-fhines our self.

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. [Exeunt.

SCE NE III.

An Orchard to Pandarus's Houfe.

Enter Pandarus, and Troilus's Man.

Pan. NOW, where's thy mafter? at my cousin

Crefida's?

Ser. No, Sir, 2 he prays you to conduct him thither.
Enter Troilus.

Pan. O, here he comes; how now, how now?
Troi. Sirrah, walk off.

Pan. Have you seen my coufin?

Troi. No, Pandarus: I ftalk about her door,
Like a strange foul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me fwift tranfportance to thofe fields,
Where I may wallow in the lilly beds

Propos'd for the deferver! O gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's fhoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Creffid.

Pan. Walk here i' th' orchard, I will bring her
ftraight.

[Exit Pandarus.

Troi. I'm giddy; expectation whirls me round.

Th' imaginary relifh is fo fweet,

That it enchants my fenfe: what will it be,
When that the watry palate taftes indeed,
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning deftruction, or fome joy too fine,
Too fubtle-potent, and too fharp in fweetness,
2-he STAYs you-] We should read,
Ee 3

he PRAYS you—

For

For the capacity of my rude powers;
I fear it much, and I do fear befides,
That I fhall lofe diftinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The flying enemy.

Re-enter Pandarus.

Pan. She's making her

ready, fhe'll come ftraight; She does fo blush, and

you must be witty now.

fetches her wind fo fhort, as if fhe were fraid with a fprite: I'll bring her. It is the prettieft villain, fhe fetches her breath as fhort as a new-ta'en fparrow.

[Exit Pandarus. Troi. Ev'n fuch a paffion doth embrace my bofom: My heart beats thicker than a fev'rous pulse; And all my pow'rs do their bestowing lofe, Like vaffalage at unawares encountring The eye of Majesty.

Enter Pandarus and Creffida.

Pan. Come, come; what need you blush? Shame's a baby. Here he is now: fwear the oaths now to her, that you have fworn to me. What, are you gone again? you must be watch'd ere you be made tame, muft you? come your ways, come your ways; if you draw backward, we'll put you i' th' files: Why do you not speak to her? Come, draw this curtain, and let's fee your picture. Alas the day, how loth you are to offend day-light? an 'twere dark, you'd close fooner. So, fo, rub on, and kifs the Mistress; how now, a kifs in fee-farm? build there, carpenter, the air is fweet. Nay, you fhall fight your hearts out, ere I part you. The faulcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i' th' river: go to, go to.

Troi. You have bereft me of all words, lady.

Pan.

Pan. Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but fhe'll bereave you of deeds too, if the call your activity in queftion: what, billing again? here's, in witnefs whereof the parties interchangeably-come in, come in, I'll go get a fire. [Exit Pandarus.

Cre. Will you walk in, my lord?
Troi. O Creffida, how often have I wifht me thus?
Cre. Wifht, my lord! the Gods grant- my

lord.

Troi. What fhould they grant? what makes this pretty abruption? what too curious dreg efpies my fweet lady in the fountain of our love?

Cre. More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes. Troi. Fears make devils of cherubims, they never fee truly.

Cre. Blind fear, which feeing reafon leads, finds fafer footing than blind reafon ftumbling without fear. To fear the worst, oft cures the worse.

Troi. O, let my lady apprehend no fear; in all Cupid's Pageant there is prefented no monster. Cre. Nor nothing monftrous neither?

Troi. Nothing, but our Undertakings; when we vow to weep feas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tygers; thinking it harder for our mistress to devile impofition enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty impofed. This is the monftruofity in love, lady, that the will is infinite, and the execution confin'd: that the defire is boundlefs, and the act a flave to limit.

Cre. They fay, all lovers fwear more performance than they are able; and yet referve an ability, that they never perform: vowing more than the perfection of ten, and difcharging lefs than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions, and the act of hares, are they not monftrous?

Troi. Are there fuch? fuch are not we; praife us as we are tafted, allow us as we prove: our head fhall go bare, till merit crown it; no perfection in rever

E e 4

fion