PANDARUS
Be moderate, be moderate.
CRESSIDA
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 temporize with my affections
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief.
My love admits no qualifying dross;
No more my grief, in such a precious loss.
PANDARUS
Here, here, here he comes. Ah, sweet ducks!
CRESSIDA
O Troilus! Troilus!
PANDARUS
What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too. ‘O heart,’ as the goodly saying is,—
PANDARUS
O heart, heavy heart,
Why sigh’st without breaking?
PANDARUS
where he answers again
PANDARUS
Because canst not ease smart
By friendship nor by speaking.
PANDARUS
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!
TROILUS
Cressid, I love in so strain’d a purity
That the bless’d gods, as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which
Cold lips blow to their deities, take from me.
CRESSIDA
Have the gods envy?
PANDARUS
Ay, ay, ay, ay; too plain a case.
CRESSIDA
And is it true that I must go from Troy?
TROILUS
A hateful truth.
CRESSIDA
What! and from Troilus too?
TROILUS
From Troy and Troilus.
CRESSIDA
Is’t possible?
TROILUS
And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents
Our lock’d embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath.
We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious time now with a robber’s haste
Crams his rich thiev’ry up, he knows not how.
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign’d kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu,
And scants us with a single famish’d kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
AENEAS
My lord, is the lady ready?
TROILUS
Hark! you are call’d. Some say the Genius
Cries so to him that instantly must die.
Bid them have patience; she shall come .
PANDARUS
Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by my throat!
CRESSIDA
I must then to the Grecians?
TROILUS
No remedy.
CRESSIDA
A woeful Cressid ’mongst the merry Greeks!
When shall we see again?
TROILUS
Hear me, my love. Be but true of heart.
CRESSIDA
I true? How now! What wicked deem is this?
TROILUS
Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us.
I speak not ‘Be true’ as fearing ,
For I will throw my glove to Death himself
That there’s no maculation in heart;
But ‘Be true’ say I to fashion in
My sequent protestation: be true,
And I will see .
CRESSIDA
O! you shall be expos’d, my lord, to dangers
As infinite as imminent! But I’ll be true.
TROILUS
And I’ll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.
CRESSIDA
And you this glove. When shall I see you?
TROILUS
I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels
To give nightly visitation.
But yet be true.
CRESSIDA
O heavens! ‘Be true’ again!
TROILUS
Hear why I speak it, love.
The Grecian youths are full of quality;
They’re loving, well compos’d, with gifts of nature,
Flowing and swelling with arts and exercise.
How novelty may move, and parts with person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy,
Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,
Makes me afear’d.
CRESSIDA
O heavens! you love me not!
TROILUS
Die I a villain then!
In this I do not call your faith in question
So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,
To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant;
But I can tell that in each grace of these
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil
That tempts most cunningly. But be not tempted.
CRESSIDA
Do you think I will?
TROILUS
No.
But something may be done that we will not;
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.
AENEAS
Nay, good my lord!
TROILUS
Come, kiss; and let us part.
PARIS
Brother Troilus!
TROILUS
Good brother, come you ;
And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you.
CRESSIDA
My lord, will you be true?
TROILUS
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.
Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit
Is plain and true; there’s all the reach of it.
TROILUS
Welcome, Sir Diomed! Here is the lady
Which for Antenor we deliver you;
At the port, lord, I’ll give her to hand,
And by the way possess what she is.
Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
If e’er stand at mercy of my sword,
Name Cressid, and life shall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.
DIOMEDES
Fair Lady Cressid,
So please you, save the thanks this prince expects.
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
TROILUS
Grecian, not use me courteously
To shame the zeal of my petition to
In praising her. I tell , lord of Greece,
She is as far high-soaring praises
As unworthy to be call’d her servant.
I charge use her well, even for my charge;
For, by the dreadful Pluto, if not,
Though the great bulk Achilles be guard,
I’ll cut throat.
DIOMEDES
O, be not mov’d, Prince Troilus.
Let me be privileg’d by my place and message
To be a speaker free: when I am
I’ll answer to my lust. And know you, lord,
I’ll nothing do on charge: to her own worth
She shall be priz’d. But that you say ‘Be’t so,’
I speak it in my spirit and honour, ‘No.’
TROILUS
Come, to the port. I’ll tell , Diomed,
This brave shall make to hide head.
Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,
To our own selves bend we our needful talk.
PARIS
Hark! Hector’s trumpet.
AENEAS
How have we spent this morning!
The Prince must think me tardy and remiss,
That swore to ride before him to the field.
PARIS
Troilus’ fault. Come, come to field with him.
DEIPHOBUS
Let us make ready straight.
AENEAS
Yea, with a bridegroom’s fresh alacrity
Let us address to tend on Hector’s heels.
The glory of our Troy this day lie
On his fair worth and single chivalry.