Troilus and Cressida
Act 3, Scene 1
Troy. Priam’s palace.
- Music sounds within. Enter Pandarus and Paris’s Servant.
Pandarus2 - 3
- Friend, you! Pray you a word. Do you not follow the young
- Lord Paris?
- Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
- You depend upon him, I mean.
- Sir, I do depend upon the Lord.
Pandarus7 - 8
- You depend upon a notable gentleman; I must needs praise
- The Lord be prais’d!
- You know me, do you not?
- Faith, sir, superficially.
- Friend, know me better, I am the Lord Pandarus.
- I hope I shall know your honor better!
- I do desire it.
- You are in the state of grace.
Pandarus16 - 17
- Grace? Not so, friend, honor and lordship are my titles.
- What music is this?
- I do but partly know, sir, it is music in parts.
- Know you the musicians?
- Wholly, sir.
- Who play they to?
- To the hearers, sir.
- At whose pleasure, friend?
- At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
- Command, I mean, friend.
- Who shall I command, sir?
Pandarus27 - 28
- Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly and
- thou too cunning. At whose request do these men play?
Paris’s Servant29 - 31
- 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.
- Who? My cousin Cressida?
Paris’s Servant33 - 34
- No, sir, Helen. Could not you find out that by her
Pandarus35 - 38
- It should seem, fellow, thou hast not seen the Lady Cressid.
- I come to speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus. I will
- make a complimental assault upon him, for my business
- Sodden business! There’s a stew’d phrase indeed!
- Enter Paris and Helen attended.
Pandarus41 - 43
- 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!
- Dear lord, you are full of fair words.
Pandarus45 - 46
- You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince, here
- is good broken music.
Paris47 - 49
- 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.
- Truly, lady, no.
- O sir—
- Rude, in sooth, in good sooth, very rude.
- Well said, my lord, well, you say so in fits.
Pandarus54 - 55
- I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord, will you
- vouchsafe me a word?
Helen56 - 57
- Nay, this shall not hedge us out, we’ll hear you sing,
Pandarus58 - 60
- Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But marry thus,
- my lord: my dear lord and most esteem’d friend, your brother
- My Lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord—
Pandarus62 - 63
- Go to, sweet queen, go to—commends himself most
- affectionately to you—
Helen64 - 65
- You shall not bob us out of our melody. If you do, our
- melancholy upon your head!
- Sweet queen, sweet queen, that’s a sweet queen—i’ faith—
- And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offense.
Pandarus68 - 71
- Nay, that shall not serve your turn, that shall it not, in
- truth la! Nay, I care not for such words, no, no. And, my
- lord, he desires you, that if the King call for him at
- supper, you will make his excuse.
- My Lord Pandarus—
- What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?
- What exploit’s in hand? Where sups he tonight?
- Nay, but, my lord—
- What says my sweet queen? My cousin will fall out with you.
- You must not know where he sups.
- I’ll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.
Pandarus79 - 80
- No, no! No such matter, you are wide. Come, your disposer is
- Well, I’ll make ’s excuse.
Pandarus82 - 83
- Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? No, your poor
- disposer’s sick.
- I spy!
Pandarus85 - 86
- You spy? What do you spy?—Come, give me an instrument.—Now,
- sweet queen.
- Why, this is kindly done.
Pandarus88 - 89
- My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet
- She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my Lord Paris.
- He? No! She’ll none of him. They two are twain.
- Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.
Pandarus93 - 94
- Come, come, I’ll hear no more of this, I’ll sing you a song
Helen95 - 96
- Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a
- fine forehead.
- Ay, you may, you may.
Helen98 - 99
- Let thy song be love. This love will undo us all. O Cupid,
- Cupid, Cupid!
- Love? Ay, that it shall, i’ faith.
- Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
Pandarus102 - 115
- In good troth, it begins so.
- “Love, love, nothing but love, still love, still more!
- For O, love’s bow
- Shoots buck and doe.
- The shaft confounds
- Not that it wounds,
- But tickles still the sore.
- These lovers cry, O ho, they die!
- Yet that which seems the wound to kill,
- Doth turn O ho! To ha, ha, he!
- So dying love lives still.
- O ho! A while, but ha, ha, ha!
- O ho! Groans out for ha, ha, ha!—hey ho!”
- In love, i’ faith, to the very tip of the nose.
Paris117 - 119
- 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.
Pandarus120 - 122
- 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 a-field today?
Paris123 - 125
- Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry
- of Troy. I would fain have arm’d today, but my Nell would
- not have it so. How chance my brother Troilus went not?
- He hangs the lip at something. You know all, Lord Pandarus.
Pandarus127 - 128
- Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they sped
- today. You’ll remember your brother’s excuse?
- To a hair.
- Farewell, sweet queen.
- Commend me to your niece.
- I will, sweet queen.
- Exit. Sound a retreat.
Paris134 - 140
- They’re come from the 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 touch’d,
- Shall more obey than to the edge of steel,
- Or force of Greekish sinews. You shall do more
- Than all the island kings—disarm great Hector.
Helen141 - 144
- ’Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris!
- Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty
- Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
- Yea, overshines ourself.
- Sweet, above thought I love thee!