You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman. Div. She's bitter to her country: Hear me, Paris,false drop in her bawdy veins For every A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak, Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do, SCENE II. [Exeunt. The same. Court before the House of Pandarus. Enter TROILUS and CREssida. Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold. Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down; He shall unbolt the gates. Tro. Trouble him not; To bed, to bed: Sleep kill those pretty eyes, a flat tamed piece;] i. e. a piece of wine out of which the spirit is all flown. 3 Both merits pois'd, &c.] The sense appears to be this: the merits of either are sunk in value, because the contest between them is only for a strumpet. Cres. Tro. 'Fr'ythee now, to bed. Cres. Good morrow then. Are you aweary of me? Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day, Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows, And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer, I would not from thee. Cres. Night hath been too brief. Tro. 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. Cres. You men will never tarry. Pr'ythee, tarry; O foolish Cressid!-I might have still held off, one up. Pan. [Within.] What, are all the doors open here? Tro. It is your uncle. Enter PANDARUS. Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking: I shall have such a life, maidenheads? Pan. How now, how now? how go -Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid? Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle! You bring me to do, and then you flout me too. Pan. To do what? to do what?-let her say what: what have I brought you to do? Cres. Come, come; beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good, Nor suffer others. Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia!-hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him! [Knocking. Cres. Did I not tell you?-'would he were knock'd o'the head! Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.- thing. Cres. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such [Knocking. How earnestly they knock!-pray you, come in; I would not for half Troy have you seen here. [Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA. Pan. [Going to the door.] Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now? what's the matter? Enter ENEAS. Ene. Good morrow, lord, good-morrow. Pan. Who's there? my lord Æneas? By my troth, I knew you not: what news with you so early? Ene. Is not prince Troilus here? Pan. Here! what should he do here? Ene. 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? Ene. Who!-nay, then : Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are 'ware: You'll be so true to him, to be false to him: Do not you know of him, yet go fetch him hither; Go. As PANDARUS is going out, enter TROILUS. Tro. How now? what's the matter? Ene. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor Tro. Is it so concluded? Ene. By Priam, and the general state of Troy: They are at hand, and ready to effect it. Tro. How my achievements mock me! I will go meet them: and, my lord Æneas, [Exeunt TROILUS and ENEAS. Pan. 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! Enter CRESSIDA. Cres. How now? what is the matter? Who was here? Pan. Ah, ah! Cres. Why sigh you so 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! Cres. O the gods!-what's the matter? - matter is so rash:] My business is so hasty and so abrupt. Pan. Pr'ythee, get thee in; 'Would thou had'st ne'er been born! I knew, thou would'st be his death:-O poor gentleman!-A plague upon An tenor! Cres. 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 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. Cres. O you immortal gods!-I will not go. Cres. 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, But the strong base and building of my love Drawing all things to it.-I'll go in, and weep;- Cres. 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. [Exeunt. "I know no touch of consanguinity;] Touch of consanguinity is sense or feeling of relationship. |