SCENE IV.-A Room in PANDARUS' House. Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA. Pan. Be moderate, be moderate. Cres. Why tell you me of moderation ? The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste And violenteth in a sense as strong As that which causeth it: how can I moderate it? If I could temporise with my affection, Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, Enter TROILUS. Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks! Cres. O Troilus! Troilus! [Embracing him. Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too: O heart,-as the goodly saying is,— -O heart, heavy heart, Why sigh'st thou without breaking? where he answers again, Because thou canst 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? Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strained a purity, That the blessed gods-as angry with my fancy, More bright in zeal than the devotion which Cold lips blow to their deities—take thee from me. Cres. Have the gods envy? Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 't is too plain a case. Cres. And is it true, that I must go from Troy? Tro. A hateful truth. Cres. What, and from Troilus too! Is it possible? Tro. From Troy, and Troilus. Cres. Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance Injurious time now with a robber's haste Crams his rich thievery up he knows not how : With distinct breath and consigned kisses to them, And scants us with a single famished kiss, Ene. [Within.] My lord, is the lady ready? Tro. Hark! you are called: some say, the Cries 'Come!' to him that instantly must die. Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root ! Cres. I must then to the Grecians? [Exit. No remedy. Cres. A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks! When shall we see again? Tro. Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart, Cres. I true! how now? what wicked deem is this? Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly, For it is parting from us : I speak not, 'be thou true,' as fearing the For I will throw my glove to Death himself, Cres. O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers As infinite as imminent! but I'll be true. Tro. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve. Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see you? Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels, To give thee nightly visitation. But yet, be true. Cres. O heavens !-'be true,' again? Tro. Hear why I speak it, love: The Grecian youths are full of quality; Their loving well composed with gift of nature, Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin- Cres. O heavens! you love me not. Tro. Die I a villain then ! In this I do not call your faith in question To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant: But I can tell that in each grace of these Tro. No. But something may be done that we will not: Ene. [Within.] Nay, good my lord,— Tro. Come, kiss; and let us part. Par. [Within.] Brother Troilus! Tro. Good brother, come you hither; And bring Æneas and the Grecian with you. Cres My lord, will you be true? Tro. Who, I alas, it is my vice, my fault : Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion, I with great truth catch mere simplicity; Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns, With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. |