Speeches (Lines) for Pandar
in "Pericles"

Total: 10

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# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

IV,2,1668

(stage directions). [Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT]

Pandar. Boult!


2

IV,2,1670

Boult. Sir?

Pandar. Search the market narrowly; Mytilene is full of
gallants. We lost too much money this mart by being
too wenchless.


3

IV,2,1676

Bawd. We were never so much out of creatures. We have but
poor three, and they can do no more than they can
do; and they with continual action are even as good as rotten.

Pandar. Therefore let's have fresh ones, whate'er we pay for
them. If there be not a conscience to be used in
every trade, we shall never prosper.


4

IV,2,1685

Bawd. What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind
will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden.

Pandar. Thou sayest true; they're too unwholesome, o'
conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead, that
lay with the little baggage.


5

IV,2,1691

(stage directions). [Exit]

Pandar. Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a
proportion to live quietly, and so give over.


6

IV,2,1695

Bawd. Why to give over, I pray you? is it a shame to get
when we are old?

Pandar. O, our credit comes not in like the commodity, nor
the commodity wages not with the danger: therefore,
if in our youths we could pick up some pretty
estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door hatched.
Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods
will be strong with us for giving over.


7

IV,2,1702

Bawd. Come, other sorts offend as well as we.

Pandar. As well as we! ay, and better too; we offend worse.
Neither is our profession any trade; it's no
calling. But here comes Boult.


8

IV,2,1717

Boult. I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces.

Pandar. Well, follow me, my masters, you shall have your
money presently. Wife, take her in; instruct her
what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her
entertainment.


9

IV,6,1947

(stage directions). [Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT]

Pandar. Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her she
had ne'er come here.


10

IV,6,1959

Boult. 'Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish us
of all our cavaliers, and make our swearers priests.

Pandar. Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for me!


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