Troilus and Cressida by William Shakespeare

Act 4 - Scene 2

The same. Court of Pandarus’ house.

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

Cressida : Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down; [p]He shall unbolt the
gates.

Troilus : Trouble him not; [p]To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty
eyes, [p]And give as soft attachment to thy senses [p]As infants'
empty of all thought!

Cressida : Good morrow, then.

Troilus : I prithee now, to bed.

Cressida : Are you a-weary of me?

Troilus : O Cressida! but that the busy day, [p]Waked by the lark, hath roused
the ribald crows, [p]And dreaming night will hide our joys no
longer, [p]I would not from thee.

Cressida : Night hath been too brief.

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

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

Pandarus : [Within] What, 's all the doors open here?

Troilus : It is your uncle.

Cressida : A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking: [p]I shall have such a
life!

Pandarus : How now, how now! how go maidenheads? Here, you [p]maid! where's my
cousin Cressid?

Cressida : Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle! [p]You bring me to do,
and then you flout me too.

Pandarus : To do what? to do what? let her say [p]what: what have I brought you
to do?

Cressida : Come, come, beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good, [p]Nor suffer
others.

Pandarus : Ha! ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor capocchia! [p]hast not slept
to-night? would he not, a naughty [p]man, let it sleep? a bugbear take
him!

Cressida : Did not I tell you? Would he were knock'd i' the head! [p][Knocking
within] [p]Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see. [p]My lord,
come you again into my chamber: [p]You smile and mock me, as if I
meant naughtily.

Troilus : Ha, ha!

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

Pandarus : Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat [p]down the door? How
now! what's the matter?

Aeneas : Good morrow, lord, good morrow.

Pandarus : Who's there? my Lord AEneas! By my troth, [p]I knew you not: what news
with you so early?

Aeneas : Is not Prince Troilus here?

Pandarus : Here! what should he do here?

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

Pandarus : Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know, I'll [p]be sworn: for my
own part, I came in late. What [p]should he do here?

Aeneas : Who!--nay, then: come, come, you'll do him wrong [p]ere you're ware:
you'll be so true to him, to be [p]false to him: do not you know of
him, but yet go [p]fetch him hither; go.

Troilus : How now! what's the matter?

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

Troilus : Is it so concluded?

Aeneas : By Priam and the general state of Troy: [p]They are at hand and ready
to effect it.

Troilus : How my achievements mock me! [p]I will go meet them: and, my Lord
AEneas, [p]We met by chance; you did not find me here.

Aeneas : Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature [p]Have not more gift in
taciturnity.

Pandarus : Is't possible? no sooner got but lost? The devil [p]take Antenor! the
young prince will go mad: a [p]plague upon Antenor! I would they had
broke 's neck!

Cressida : How now! what's the matter? who was here?

Pandarus : Ah, ah!

Cressida : Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord? gone! [p]Tell me, sweet
uncle, what's the matter?

Pandarus : Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!

Cressida : O the gods! what's the matter?

Pandarus : Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst ne'er been [p]born! I knew thou
wouldst be his death. O, poor [p]gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!

Cressida : Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees! beseech you, [p]what's the
matter?

Pandarus : Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou [p]art changed for
Antenor: thou must to thy father, [p]and be gone from Troilus: 'twill
be his death; [p]'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.

Cressida : O you immortal gods! I will not go.

Pandarus : Thou must.

Cressida : I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father; [p]I know no touch of
consanguinity; [p]No kin no love, no blood, no soul so near me [p]As
the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine! [p]Make Cressid's name the very
crown of falsehood, [p]If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and
death, [p]Do to this body what extremes you can; [p]But the strong
base and building of my love [p]Is as the very centre of the
earth, [p]Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep,--

Pandarus : Do, do.

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

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Next: Act 4 - Scene 3