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o'th' head!--who's that at door?-good uncle, go and see!--my lord, come you again into my cham.

-you smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.

Troi. Ha, ha

Cre. Come, you are deceived, I' think of no such thing. How earnestly they knock-pray you, come in. (Knock.) I would not for half Troy have you seen here.

(Exeunt. Pan. Who's there? what's the matter ? will you beat down the door; how now? what's the matter ?


Enter Æneas.
Ane. TOOD-morrow, lord, good-morrow.

Pan. Who's there ? my lord Æneas ? by my Proth, I knew you not; what news with you so early?

Æne. Is not Prince Troilus here?
Pan. Here! What sbould he do here?

Æne. Come, he is here, my lord, do not deny him. It doth import him much to speak with me.

Pan. Is he here, say you ? 'tis more than I know, I'll be sworn; for my own part, I came in late : what should he do here?

Æne. Pho !--nay, then :come, come, you'll do him wrong, ere y'are aware : you'll be so true to him, to be false to him: do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither, go.

As Pandarus is going out.

Enter Troilus,
Troi. How now ? what's the matter ?

Æne. My lord, I scarce have leasure to salute you,
My matter is so rash: there is at hand
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomede, and our Antenor
Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
Ere the first facrifice, within this hour,




We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The lady Cressida.

Troi. Is it concluded so ?

Æne. By Priam, and the general State of Troy,
They are at hand, and ready to effe& it.

Troi. How my atchievements mock me!
I will go meet them; and (my lord Æneas)
We met by chance, you did not find me here.

Æne. Good, good, my lord; the secretest of natures. Have not more gift in taciturnity.


Enter Cressida to Pandarus.
S't possible ? no sooner got, but loft: the
Devil take Antenor ! the


Prince will go mad:

: a plague upon Antenor ! I would, they had broke's neck.

Cre. How now? what's the matter? who was here? Pan. Ah, ah! :::

Cre. Why sigh you fo profoundly? where's my lord ? gone? tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?

Pan. 'Would I were as deep under the earth, as I am above!

Cre. O the Gods ! what's the matter ?

Pan. Pr’ythee, get thee in; 'would, thou hadft De'er been born: I knew, thou would'ft be his death. 0

poor gentleman! a plague upon Antenor ! Cre. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees, I beseech you, what's the matter?

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone : thou art chang'd for Antenor ; thou must go to thy father, and be gone from Troilus : 'twill be his. death ; 'twill be, his bane; he cannot bear it. Cre. O


immortal Gods! I will not go. Pan. Thou muft.

Cre. I will not, uncle : I've forgot my father,
I know no touch of Consanguinity :
No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me,


As the sweet Troilus. O you Gods divine !
Make Cresid's name the very Crown of falfhood,
If ever she leave Troilus. Time, Force, and Death,
Do to this body what extremes you can;
But the strong Bafe and Building of my Love
Is as the very centre of the earth,
Drawing all to it.

I'll go and weep,
Pan. Do, do.
Cre. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised

cheeks. Crack my clear voice with fobs, and break my heart With sounding Troilus. I'll not go from Troy. (Exeunt.


Before Pandarus's House. Enter Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Deiphobus, Antenor,

and Diomedes. Par. I T is great morning and the hour prefixt

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Comes faft upon us : good my brother Troilus,
Tell you the Lady what she is to do,
And hafte her to the purpuse.

Troi. Walk into her house:
I'll bring her to the Grecian presently ;
And to his hand when I deliver her,
Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus
A priest, there offering to it his heart.

Par. I know, what 'tis to love ;
And 'would, as I shall pity, I could help!
Please you, walk in, my lords.


An Apartment in Pandarus's House.

Enter Pandarus and Cressida.
E moderate, be moderate.
you me of moderation ?




The grief is fine, full, perfect that I taste,
And in its seose is no less Itrong, than That
Which causeth it. How can I moderate it ?
If I could temporize with my

Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying dross :

Enter Troilus.
No more my grief, in such a precious lofs.
Pan. Here, here, here he comes,- -a,

sweet duck! Cre. O Troilus, Troilus! Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! let me

embrace too: Oh heart, (as the goodly saying is ;)

Oh heart, O heavy heart,

Why sigh'st thou without breaking ? where he answers again ;

Because thou can's not ease thy smart,

By friendship, nor by Speaking. There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse; we see it, we see it. How now, lambs?

Troi. Crefid, I love thee in so strange a purity,
That the bleft Gods, as angry with my fancy
(More bright in zeal than the devotion, which
Cold lips blow to their Deities) take thee from me.

Cre. Have the Gods envy?
Pan. Ay, ay, 'tis too plain a case.
Cre. And is it true, that I must go from Troy ?
Troi. A hateful truth!
Cre. What; and from Troilus too?
Troi. From Troy, and Troilus.
Cre. Is it possible?

Troi. And suddenly: whilc injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, juslles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents


Our lock'd embraces, strangles our dear vows,
Ev'n in the birth of our own labouring breath.
We two, that with so many thousand fighs
Each other bought, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious Time now, with a robber's hafte,
Crams his rich thiev'ry up, he knows not how.
As many farewels as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and confign'd kifles to them,
He fumbles up all in one loose adieu ;
And scants us with a single familh'd kiss,
Diftafted with the salt of broken tears..

Æneas. (within.] My lord, is the lady ready ?

Troi.Hark! you are call'd. Some fay, the Genius so Cries, come, to him that instantly must die. Bid them have patience ; she shall come anon.

Pan. Where are my tears ? rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root.

[Exit Pandarus. Cre. I must then to the Grecians? Troi. No remedy.

Cre. A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks ! When shall we see again? Troi. Hear me, my love ; be thou but true of

Cre. I true! how now, what wicked Deem is this?

Troi. Nay, we must use ex poftulation kindly,
For it is parting from us :-
I speak not, be thou true, as fearing thee :
For I will throw my Glove to Death himself,
That there's no maculation in thy heart ;
But, be thou true, say I, to fashion in
My fequcnt protestation : be thou true,
And I will see thee.

Cre. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers
As infinite, as imminent : but, I'll be true.
Iroi. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear
this fleeve.


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