Serv. You are in the state of grace? Pan. Grace! not fo, friend; honour and lordship are my titles:-What mufick is this? Serv. I do but partly know, Sir; it is mufick in parts. Pan. Know you the muficians? Serv. Wholly, fir. Pan. Who play they to? Serv. To the hearers, fir. Pan. At whofe pleasure, friend? Serv. At mine, Sir, and theirs that love mufick. Pan. Command, I mean, friend. Serv. Who fhall I command, fir? Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning: At whofe request do these men play? Serv. That's to't, indeed, fir: Marry, fir, at the requeft of Paris my lord, who is there in perfon; with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invifible foul, Pan. Who, my coufin Creffida ? Serv. No, fir, Helen; Could you not find out that by her attributes? Pan. It fhould feem, fellow, that thou haft not seen the lady Creffida. I come to fpeak with Paris from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental affault upon him, for my business feeths. с Serv. Sodden bufinefs! there's a stew'd phrase, indeed ! · Enter Paris, and Helen, attended. Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair defires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them! -especially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow! e feetbs]-is urgent, piping hot. Helen Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, fweet queen.-Fair prince, here is good broken mufick. Par. You have broke it, coufin: and, by my life, you fhall make it whole again; you fhall piece it out with a piece of your performance :-Nell, he is full of harmony. Pan. Truly, lady, no. Helen. O, fir, Pan. Rude, in footh; in good footh, very rude. d Par. Well faid, my lord! well, you fay fo in fits. Pan. I have business to my lord, dear queen :-My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word? Helen. Nay, this fhall not hedge us out; we'll hear you fing, certainly. Pan. Well, fweet queen, you are pleafant with me.But (marry) thus, my lord.My dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus Helen. My lord Pandarus; honey-fweet lord, Pan. Go to, fweet queen, go to:-commends himself most affectionately to you. Helen. You fhall not bob us out of our melody; If you do, our melancholy upon your head! Pan. Sweet queen, fweet queen; that's a fweet queen, i'faith. Par. And to make a fweet lady fad, is a four offence. Helen. Nay, that shall not ferve your turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for fuch words; no, no. Pan. And, my lord, he defires you, that, if the king call for him at fupper, you will make his excuse. Helen. My lord Pandarus, in fits.]—at times only, you don't always make that excuse. Pan. Pan. What fays my fweet queen; my very very sweet queen? Par. What exploit's in hand? where fups he to-night? Helen. Nay, but my lord, Pan. What fays my fweet queen? You must not know where he fups. Helen. I'll lay my life, ' with my deposer Creffida. Pan. No, no, no fuch matter, you are wide; come, your depofer is fick. Par. Well, I'll make excufe. Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why fhould you fay Creffida? no, your poor depofer's sick. Par. I fpy. Pan. You spy! what do you spy?-Come, give mę an inftrument.--Now, fweet queen, Helen. Why, this is kindly done. Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, fweet queen. Helen. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris. Pan. He! no, fhe'll none of him; they two are twain -My coufin will fall out with you. Helen. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three. Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll fing you a fong now. Helen. Ay, ay, pr'ythee now. By my troth, fweet lord, thou haft a fine forehead. Pan. Ay, you may, you may With my depofer Creffida.]—Helen calls Creffida her deposer, because The had fupplanted her in the affections of Troilus, whom Pandarus in a preceding fcene declares fhe loved better than Paris. my difpofer the lady, who holds me at her difpofal. may make them three.]-may produce a third. -Par.-with Helen. Helen. Let thy fong be love: this love will undo us all. Oh, Cupid, Cupid. Cupid! Pan. Love! ay, that it fhall, i'faith. Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. Pan. In good troth, it begins fo: Love, love, nothing but love, ftill more! For, ob, love's bow Shoots buck and doe: Helen. In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the nose. Par. He eats nothing but doves, love; and that breeds hot blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love. Pan. Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot thoughts, and hot deeds?-Why, they are vipers: Is love a generation of vipers? Sweet lord, who's a-field today? Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have arm'd to-day, but my Nell would not have it fo. How chance my brother Troilus went not? confounds]-destroys. the fore.](pun) forel-the deer. that which feems the wound to kill the wound which feems mor tal, the killing wound. Helen. Helen. He hangs the lip at fomething;-you know all, lord Pandarus. Pan. Not I, honey-fweet queen.-I long to hear how they fped to-day. You'll remember your brother's excufe? Par. To a hair. Pan. Farewell, fweet queen. Helen. Commend me to your niece. Pan. I will, fweet queen. [Exit. Sound a retreat. Par. They are come from field: let us to Priam's hall, To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you To help unarm our Hector: his ftubborn buckles, With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd, Shall more obey, than to the edge of steel, Or force of Greekifh finews; you fhall do more Than all the island kings, difarm great Hector. Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his fervant, Paris; Yea, what he fhall receive of us in duty Gives us more palm in beauty than we have; Yea, over-fhines ourself. Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. SCENE II. Pandarus' Garden. Enter Pandarus, and Troilus' Man. [Exeunt. Pan. How now? where's thy mafter? at my cousin Creffida's? Serv. No, fir; he ftays for you to conduct him thither. Enter Troilus. Pan. O, here he comes.-How now, how now? Troi. Sirrah, walk off. Pan. |