CRESSIDA

Who were those went by? And whither go they? What was his cause of anger? Good; and what of him? So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs. But how should this man that makes me smile, make Hector angry? Who comes here? Hector's a gallant man. Good morrow Uncle Pandarus. This morning Uncle. Hector was gone but Hellen was not up? That were we talking of, and of his anger. So he says here. What is he angry too? O Jupiter ; there's no comparison. I, if I ever saw him before and knew him. Then you say as I say, For I am sure he is not Hector. It's joust, to each of them he is himself. So he is. He is not Hector. Excuse me. Pardon me, pardon me. He shall not need it if he have his own. No matter. 'Twould not become him, his own's better. No, but brown. To say the truth, true and not true. Why Paris hath colour enough. Then Troilus should have too much, if she prasi'd him above, his complexion is higher then his, he having colour enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion, I had as lieve Helen's gol den tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose. Then she's a merry Greek indeed. O he smiles valiantly. O yes, and 'twere a clow'd in Autumn. Troilus will stand to thee Proof, if yowl prove it so. If you love and addle egg as well as you love and idle head, you would eat chickens in the shell. Without the rack. Alas poor chin? many a wart is richer. With Millstones. But there was more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes: did her eyes run over too? At what was all this laughing? What was his answer? This is her question. So let it now, For is has been a great while going by. So I does. At your pleasure. Speak not so lowed. Who's that? Will he give you the nod? If he do, the rich shall have, more. Oh brave man! Be those with Swords? Whose that? Can Hellenus fight Uncle? What sneaking fellow comes yonder? Peace, for shame peace. Perchance my Lord, I show more craft then love, And fell so roundly to a large confession, To Angle for your thoughts: but you are wise, Or else you love not: for to be wise and love, Exceeds men might, that dwells with gods above. Come you are deceived, I think of no such thing. How earnestly they knock: pray you come in. I would not for half Troy have you seen here. Indeed a Tapsters Arithmetic may soon bring his particulars therein, to a total. Is he is so young a man, and so old a lifter? Juno have mercy, how came it cloven? And to had been a green hair, I should have laughed too. And I'll spring up in his tears, an'twere a nettle against May. Here come more. There is among the Greeks Achilles, a better man then Troilus. Well, well. I, a minced man, and then to be baked with no Date in the pie, for then the men dates out. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my Mask, to defend my beauty, and you to defend all these: and at all these wards I lie at, at a thousand watches. Nay I'll watch you for that, and that's one of the chiefest of them too: If I cannot ward what I would not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took the blow, unless it swell passed hiding, and then it's passed what ching. Adieu Uncle. To bring Uncle. By the same token, you are a Bawd. Words, vows, gifts, tears, & loves full sacrifice, He offers in another's enterprise: But more in Troilus thousand fold I see, Then in the glass of Pandar is praise may be; Yet hold I off. Women are Angels wooing, Things wone are done, joys soul lies in the doing: That she beloved, knows nought, that knows not this; Men prize the thing ungained, more then it is. That she was never yet, that ever knew Love God so sweet, as when desire did sue: Therefore this maxim out of love I teach; "Achievement, is command; ungained, beseech. That though my hearts Contents firm love does bear, Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. Will you walk in my Lord? Wished my Lord? the gods grant? Oh my Lord. More dregs then water, if my ears have eyes. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safe footing, then blind reason, stumbling without fear: to fear the worst, oft cures the worse. Not nothing monstrous neither? They say all Lovers swear more performance then they are able, and yet reserve and ability that they never perform: vowing more then the perfection of ten; and discharging less then the tenth partly of one. They that have the voice of Lyons, and the act of Hares: are they not Monsters? Will you walk in my Lord? Well Uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you. Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart: Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day, for many weary months. Hard to seem wone: but I was wone my Lord With the first glance; that ever pardon me, If I confess much you will play the tyrant: I love you now, but not till now so much But I might master it; in faith I lie: My thoughts were Like unbridled children grow Too headstrong for their mother: see we fools, Why have I blabbed: who shall be true to us When we are so unsecret to our selves? But though I loved you well, I wooed you not, And yet good faith I wished my self a man; Or that we women had men's privilege Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue, For in this rapture I shall surely speak The thing I shall repent: see, see, your silence Coming in dumbness, from my weakness draws My soul of counsel from me. Stop my mouth. My Lord, I do beseech you pardon me, 'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss: I am ashamed; Oh Heavens, what have I done! For this time will I take my leave my Lord. Pray you content you. Sir, mine own company. Let me go and try: I have a kind of self recides with you: But and unkind self, that it self will leave, To be another's fool. Where is my wit? I would be gone: I speak I know not what. Prophet may you be: If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, When time is old and hath forgotten it self: When water drops have worn the Stones of Troy ; And blind oblivion swallowed Cities up; And mighty States characterlesse are grated To dusty nothing; yet let memory, From false to false, among false Maids in love, Upbraid my falsehood, when they'aue said as false, As Air, as Water, as Wind, as sandy earth; As Fox to Lamb; as Wolf to Heifers Calf; Pard to the Hind, or Stepdame to her Son; Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood, As false as Cressid. Amen. Then sweet my Lord, I'll call mine Uncle down; He shall unbolt the Gates. Good morrow then. Are you a weary of me? Night hath been too brief. Prithee tarry, you men will never tarry; Oh foolish Cressid, I might have still held off, And then you would have tarried. Hark, ther's one up? A pestilence on him: now will he be mocking: I shall have such a life. Go hang your self, you naughty mocking Uncle: You bring me to do—and then you flout me too. Come, come, beshrew your heart: yowl never be good, nor suffer others. Did not I tell you? would he were knocked ith' head. Who's that at door? good Uncle go and see. My Lord, come you again into my Chamber: You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily. How now? what's the matter? who was here? Why sighs you so profoundly? where's my Lord? gone? tell me sweet Uncle, what's the matter? Oh the gods! what's the matter? Good Uncle I beseech you, on my knees, I be seech you what's the matter? Oh you immortal gods! I will not go. I will not Uncle: I have forgotten my Father: I know no touch of consanguinity: No kin, no love, no blood, no soul, so near me, As the sweet Troilus : Oh you gods divine! Make Cressidas name the very crown of falsehood! If ever she leave Troilus : time, orce and death, Do to this body what extremity you can; But the strong base and building of my love, Is as the very Centre of the earth, Drawing all things to it. I will go in and weep. Tear my bright heir, and scratch my praised cheeks, Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy. Why tell you me of moderation? The grief is fine, full perfect that I taste, And no less 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, The Like alaiment could I give my grief: My love admits no qualifying cross; No more my grief, in such a precious lose. Oh Troilus, Troilus ! Have the gods envy? And is it true, that I must go from Troy? What, and from Troilus too? Is't possible? I must then to the Grecians? A woeful Cressid amongst the merry Greeks. I true? how now? what wicked deem is this? Oh you shall be exposed, my Lord to dangers As infinite, as imminent: but I'll be true. And you this Glove. When shall I see you? Oh heavens: be true again? Oh heavens, you love me not! Do you think I will: My Lord, will you be true? In kissing do you render, or receive. I'll make my match to live, The kiss you take is better then you give: therefore no kiss. You are and odd man, give even, or give none. No, Paris is not; for you know it's true, That you are odd, and he is even with you. No, I'll be sworn. You may. Why beg then? I am your debtor, claim it when it's endue. Now my sweet guardian: hark a word with you. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. I'll tell you what. In faith I cannot: what would you have me do? I prithee do not hold me to mine oath, Bid me do not any thing but that sweet Greek. Diomed. Hark one word in your ear. Nay, but you partly in anger. Guardian? why Greek? In faith I do not: come hither once again. In faith I will lo; never trust me else. I'll fetch you one. Here Diomed, keep this Sleeve. You look upon that Sleeve? behold it well: He loved me: Oh false wench: giue't me again. It is no matter now I haue't again. I will not meet with you to morrow night: I prithee Diomed visit me no more. What, this? Oh all you gods! Oh pretty, pretty pledge; Thy Master now lies thinking in his bed Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my Glove, And gives memorial dainty kisses to it; As I kiss thee. He that takes that, rakes my heart withal. You shall not have it Diomed ; faith you shall not: I'll give you something else. It is no matter. 'Twas one that loved me better then you will. But now you have it, take it. By all Diana waiting women yond: And by her self, I will not tell you whose. Well, well, it's done, it's passed; and yet it is not: I will not keep my word. You shall not go: one cannot speak a word, But it strait starts you. I, come: Oh Jove! do, come: I shall be plagued. Good night: I prithee come: Troilus farewell; one eye yet looks on thee; But with my heart, the other eye, does see. Ah poor our sex; this fault in us I find: The error of our eye, directs our mind. What error leads, must err: Oh then conclude, Minds swayed by eyes, are full of turpitude. In that I'll war with you.