[Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA]
- Troilus. Dear, trouble not yourself: the morn is cold.
- Cressida. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;
He shall unbolt the gates.
- Troilus. Trouble him not;
To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses
As infants' empty of all thought!
- Troilus. O Cressida! but that the busy day,
Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
I would not from thee.
- Cressida. Night hath been too brief.
- Troilus. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays
As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curse me.
- Cressida. Prithee, tarry:
You men will never tarry.
O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,
And then you would have tarried. Hark!
there's one up.
- Pandarus. [Within] What, 's all the doors open here?
- Cressida. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:
I shall have such a life!
- Pandarus. How now, how now! how go maidenheads? Here, you
maid! where's my cousin Cressid?
- Cressida. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
You bring me to do, and then you flout me too.
- Pandarus. To do what? to do what? let her say
what: what have I brought you to do?
- Cressida. Come, come, beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good,
Nor suffer others.
- Pandarus. Ha! ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor capocchia!
hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty
man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him!
- Cressida. Did not I tell you? Would he were knock'd i' the head!
Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.
My lord, come you again into my chamber:
You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.
- Cressida. Come, you are deceived, I think of no such thing.
How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come in:
I would not for half Troy have you seen here.
[Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA]
- Pandarus. Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat
down the door? How now! what's the matter?
- Aeneas. Good morrow, lord, good morrow.
- Pandarus. Who's there? my Lord AEneas! By my troth,
I knew you not: what news with you so early?
- Aeneas. Is not Prince Troilus here?
- Aeneas. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him:
It doth import him much to speak with me.
- Pandarus. 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?
- Aeneas. Who!—nay, then: come, come, you'll do him wrong
ere you're ware: 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.
- Troilus. How now! what's the matter?
- Aeneas. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
My matter is so rash: there is at hand
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The Lady Cressida.
- Aeneas. By Priam and the general state of Troy:
They are at hand and ready to effect it.
- Troilus. How my achievements mock me!
I will go meet them: and, my Lord AEneas,
We met by chance; you did not find me here.
- Aeneas. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature
Have not more gift in taciturnity.
[Exeunt TROILUS and AENEAS]
- Pandarus. Is't possible? no sooner got but lost? The devil
take Antenor! the young prince will go mad: a
plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke 's neck!
- Cressida. How now! what's the matter? who was here?
- Cressida. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord? gone!
Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
- Pandarus. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!
- Cressida. O the gods! what's the matter?
- Pandarus. Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst ne'er been
born! I knew thou wouldst be his death. O, poor
gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!
- Cressida. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees! beseech you,
what's the matter?
- Pandarus. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou
art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father,
and be gone from Troilus: 'twill be his death;
'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.
- Cressida. O you immortal gods! I will not go.
- Cressida. I will not, uncle: I have 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 Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood,
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
Do to this body what extremes you can;
But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very centre of the earth,
Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep,—
- Cressida. Tear my bright hair and scratch my praised cheeks,
Crack my clear voice with sobs and break my heart
With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy.