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With the first glance that ever-pardon me. |
If I confess much, you will play the tyrant. |
I love you now; but till now not so much |
But I might master it. In faith, I lie; |
My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown |
Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools! |
Why have I blabb'd? Who shall be true to us, |
When we are so unsecret to ourselves? |
But, though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not; |
And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself 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, |
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws |
My very soul of counsel. Stop my mouth. |
TROILUS. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence. |
PANDARUS. Pretty, i' faith. |
CRESSIDA. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me; |
'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss. |
I am asham'd. O heavens! what have I done? |
For this time will I take my leave, my lord. |
TROILUS. Your leave, sweet Cressid! |
PANDARUS. Leave! An you take leave till to-morrow morning- |
CRESSIDA. Pray you, content you. |
TROILUS. What offends you, lady? |
CRESSIDA. Sir, mine own company. |
TROILUS. You cannot shun yourself. |
CRESSIDA. Let me go and try. |
I have a kind of self resides with you; |
But an unkind self, that itself will leave |
To be another's fool. I would be gone. |
Where is my wit? I know not what I speak. |
TROILUS. Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely. |
CRESSIDA. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than 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 man's might; that dwells with gods above. |
TROILUS. O that I thought it could be in a woman- |
As, if it can, I will presume in you- |
To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love; |
To keep her constancy in plight and youth, |
Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind |
That doth renew swifter than blood decays! |
Or that persuasion could but thus convince me |
That my integrity and truth to you |
Might be affronted with the match and weight |
Of such a winnowed purity in love. |
How were I then uplifted! but, alas, |
I am as true as truth's simplicity, |
And simpler than the infancy of truth. |
CRESSIDA. In that I'll war with you. |
TROILUS. O virtuous fight, |
When right with right wars who shall be most right! |
True swains in love shall in the world to come |
Approve their truth by Troilus, when their rhymes, |
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare, |
Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration- |
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon, |
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate, |
As iron to adamant, as earth to th' centre- |
Yet, after all comparisons of truth, |
As truth's authentic author to be cited, |
'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse |
And sanctify the numbers. |
CRESSIDA. Prophet may you be! |
If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, |
When time is old and hath forgot itself, |
When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy, |
And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up, |
And mighty states characterless are grated |
To dusty nothing-yet let memory |
From false to false, among false maids in love, |
Upbraid my falsehood when th' have said 'As false |
As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, |
As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer's calf, |
Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son'- |
Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood, |
'As false as Cressid.' |
PANDARUS. Go to, a bargain made; seal it, seal it; I'll be the |
witness. Here I hold your hand; here my cousin's. If ever you |
prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to |
bring you together, let all pitiful goers- between be call'd to |
the world's end after my name-call them all Pandars; let all |
constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all |
brokers between Pandars. Say 'Amen.' |
TROILUS. Amen. |
CRESSIDA. Amen. |
PANDARUS. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber |
and a bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your |
pretty encounters, press it to death. Away! |
And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here, |
Bed, chamber, pander, to provide this gear! Exeunt |
ACT III. SCENE 3. |
The Greek camp |
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