Serv. I hope I shall know your honor better.1 Serv. You are in the state of grace. [Music within. Pan. Grace! not so, friend! honor and lordship are my titles;-What music is this? Serv. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts. Serv. Wholly, sir. Pan. Who play they to? Serv. To the hearers, sir. Pan. At whose pleasure, friend? Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music. Pan. Command, I mean, friend. Serv. Who shall I command, sir? Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play? Serv. That's to't, indeed, sir. Marry, sir, at the request of Paris, my lord, who is there in person; with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul, Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida ? Serv. No, sir; Helen. Could you not find out that by her attributes? Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seethes. Serv. Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase indeed! Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended. Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow. Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. 1 The servant means to quibble. He hopes Pandarus will become a better man than he is at present. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen.— Fair prince, here is good broken music. Par. You have broke it, cousin: and, by my life, you shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance :-Nell, he is full of harmony. Pan. Truly, lady, no. Helen. O sir, Pan. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. Par. Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits.1 Pan. I have business to my lord, dear queen :— My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word? Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we'll hear you sing, certainly. Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. -But (marry) thus, my lord,-My dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus Helen. My lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,— Pan. Go to, sweet queen, go to:-commends himself most affectionately to you. Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody; if you do, our melancholy upon your head! Pan. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i' faith. Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad, is a sour offence. Pan. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no.-2And, my lord, he desires you, that, if the king call for him at supper, you will make his excuse. Helen. My lord Pandarus, Pan. What says my sweet queen, my very, very sweet queen ? Par. What exploit's in hand? Where sups he tonight? Helen. Nay, but, my lord, 1 A quibble is intended. A fit was a part or division of a song or tune. 2 "And, my lord," &c. Johnson thinks that the speech of Pandarus should begin here; and that the former part should be added to that of Helen. Pan. What says my sweet queen ?-My cousin will fall out with you. You must not know where he sups.1 Par. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida. Pan. No, no, no such matter; you are wide; come, your disposer is sick. Par. Well, I'll make excuse. Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why should you sayCressida ? no, your poor disposer's sick. Par. I spy. Pan. You spy! what do you spy?-Come, give me an instrument.-Now, sweet queen. Helen. Why, this is kindly done. Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet queen. Helen. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris. Pan. He! no, she'll none of him: they two are twain. Helen. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three. Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a song now. Helen. Ay, ay, pr'ythee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead. Pan. Ay, you may, you may. Helen. Let thy song be love; this love will undo us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid! Pan. Love! ay, that it shall, i' faith. Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. Pan. In good troth, it begins so: Love, love, nothing but love, still more! For oh, love's bow Shoots buck and doe: 1 "You must not know where he sups." These words, in the old copies, are erroneously given to Helen. 2 Steevens would give this speech to Helen, and read deposer instead of disposer. Disposer appears to have been an equivalent term, anciently, for steward, or manager. If the speech is to be attributed to Helen, she may mean to call Cressid her handmaid. Hey ho! The shaft confounds, But tickles still the sore. These lovers cry-Oh! ho! they die! Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha! 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 afield to-day? Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed to-night, but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my brother Troilus went not? Helen. He hangs the lip at something;-you know all, lord Pandarus. Pan. Not I, honey-sweet queen.-I long to hear how they sped to-day.-You'll remember your brother's excuse? Par. To a hair. Pan. Farewell, sweet queen. Helen. Commend me to your niece. Pan. I will, sweet queen. [Exit. [A retreat sounded. 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 stubborn buckles, With these your white, enchanting fingers touched, Shall more obey, than to the edge of steel, Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty, Gives us more palm in beauty than we have; Yea, overshines ourself. Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. Pandarus' Orchard. Enter PANDARUS and a Servant, meeting. Pan. How now? where's thy master? at my cousin Cressida's? Serv. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither. Enter TROILUS. Pan. O, here he comes.-How now, how now? Tro. Sirrah, walk off. [Exit Servant. Pan. Have you seen my cousin? Tro. No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door, Proposed for the deserver? O gentle Pandarus, Pan. Walk here i' the orchard, I'll bring her straight. [Exit PANDARUs. Tro. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense. What will it be, |