Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, fweet queen.

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

Pan. He! no, she'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, fweet lord, thou haft a fine forehead.

Pan. Ay, you may, you may.

Helen. Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all. O, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!

Pan. Love! ay, that it shall, i'faith.

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

Hey ho!

Love, love, nothing but love, still more!

For, oh, love's bow

Shoots buck and doe:
The fhaft confounds
Not that it wounds,

But tickles fill the fore.

Thefe lovers cry-Oh! oh! they die!

Yet that which feems the wound to kill,
Doth turn ob! ob! to ha! ha! be!

So dying love lives ftill:

Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ba!
Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha!

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

Par.

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 is 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 today?

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 fped to-day.-You'll remember your brother's excufe?

Par. To a hair.

Pan. Farewell, fweet queen.

Helen. Commend me to your niece.

Pan. I will, fweet queen.

[Exit.

[A Retreat founded.

Par. They are 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 stubborn buckles,
With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd,
Shall more obey, than to the edge of steel,

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, what he (hall receive of us in duty

Gives us more palm in beauty than we have ;

Yea, overthines ourself.

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee.

E 2

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE II. ·

The fame. Pandarus' Orchard.

Enter PANDARUS and a Servant, meeting.

Pan. How now? where's thy master? at my cousin Creffida's?

Serv. No, fir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.

Enter TROILUS.

Pan. O, here he comes.-How now, how now?

Tro. Sirrah, walk off.

Pan. Have you seen my cousin ?

[Exit Servant.

Tro. No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door,
Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me swift transportance to those fields,
Where I may wallow in the lily beds

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

Pan. Walk here i'the orchard, I'll bring her straight.

[Exit PANDARUS.

Tro. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.

The imaginary relish is so sweet

That it enchants my fenfe; What will it be,
When that the watry palate tastes indeed
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
Too fubtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers:

Porter del

Troilus & Cressido.

Act 3. Scene 2.

Pub. 1. Apr. 1800. by Vernor & Hood Poultry

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