Title: Trolius And Cressida
Book: Act IV.
Author: Shakespeare, William
Date: 1602

Scene II. The Same. Court of Pandahue's House.

Enter Troilus and Cressida,

Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself: the morn is cold.

Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;
He shall unbolt the gates.

Tro. Trouble him not;
To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses
As infant's empty of all thought?

Cres. Good morrow then.

Tro. I prithee now, to bed.

Cres. Are you aweary of me?

Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day,
Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
I would knot from thee.

Cres. Night hath been too brief.

Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays
As tediously as hell, but flies the grasp of love
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curse me.

Cres. Prithee, tarry:
You men will never tarry.
O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,
And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's one up.

Pan. [Within] What! 's all the doors open here?

Tro. It is your uncle.

Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:
I shall have such a life!

Enter Pandarus.

Pan. How now, how now! how go maiden-heads!
Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid?

Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
You bring me to do-and then you flout me too.

Pan. To do what? to do what? let her say what: what have I brought you to
do?

Cres. Come, come; beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good,
Nor suffer others.

Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia! hast not slept
to-night! would he not a naughty man, let is sleep! a bugbear take him!
[Knocking within.

Cres. Did not I tell you! Would he were knock'd o' the 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.

Tro. Ha, ha!

Cres. Come, you are deceived, I think of no such thing.
[Knocking within.
How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come in:
I would not for half Troy have you seen here.
[Exeunt Troilus and Cressida.

Pan. Who's there? what's the matter! will you beat down the door! How
now! what's the matter!

Enter Aeneas

Aene. Good morrow, lord, good morrow

Pan. Who's there! my Lord Aeneas! By my troth, I knew you not: what news
with you so early!

Aene. Is not Prince Troilus here!

Pan. Here! what should he do here?

Aene. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him:
It doth import him much to speak with me.

Pan. Is he here, say you? 't is more than I know, I'll be sworn: for my
own part, I came in late. What should he do here?

Aene. Who! nay, then: come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you're 'ware.
You'll be so true to him, to be false to him. Do not you know of him, but yet
go fetch him hither; go.

Re-enter Troilus.

Tro. How now! what's the matter?

Aene. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
My matter is so rash: there is at hand
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The Lady Cressida.

Tro. Is it concluded so!

Aene. By Priam and the general state of Troy:
They are at hand and ready to effect it.

Tro. How my achievements mock me!
I will go meet them: and, my Lord Aeneas,
We met by chance; you did not find me here.

Aene. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature
Have not more gift in taciturnity.
[Exeunt Troilus and Aeneas.

Pan. Is't possible! no sooner got but lost? The devil take Antenor! the
young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke's
neck!

Re-enter Cressida.

Cres. How now! what's the matter! Who was here!

Pan. Ah! ah!

Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord? gone! Tell me, sweet
uncle, what's the matter?

Pan. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am alone!

Cres. O the gods! what's the matter?

Pan. Prithee, get thee in. Would thou had'st ne'er been born!
I knew thou would'st be his death.
O poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!

Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, what's the
matter?

Pan. 'Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for
Antenor. Thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus:'t will be his
death; 't will be his bane; he cannot bear it.

Cres. O you immortal gods! I will not go.

Pan. Thou must.

Cres. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
I know no touch of consanguinity;
No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me
As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine!
Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
Do to this body what extremes 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'll go in the weep, -

Pan. Do, do.

Cres. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks,
Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart
With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy.
[Exeunt.