Chapter 16

_Enter_ PANDARUS _and_ CRESSIDA.

_Pand._ Yonder he stands, poor wretch! there stands he with such a look, and such a face, and such begging eyes! there he stands, poor prisoner!

_Cress._ What a deluge of words do you pour out, uncle, to say just nothing?

_Pand._ Nothing, do you call it! is that nothing, do you call that nothing? why he looks, for all the world, like one of your rascally malefactors, just thrown off the gibbet, with his cap down, his arms tied down, his feet sprunting, his body swinging. Nothing do you call it? this is nothing, with a vengeance!

_Cress._ Or, what think you of a hurt bird, that flutters about with a broken wing?

_Pand._ Why go to then, he cannot fly away then; then, that's certain, that's undoubted: there he lies to be taken up: but if you had seen him, when I said to him,--Take a good heart, man, and follow me; and fear no colours, and speak your mind, man: she can never stand you; she will fall, an' 'twere a leaf in autumn,--

_Cress._ Did you tell him all this, without my consent?

_Pand._ Why you did consent, your eyes consented; they blabbed, they leered, their very corners blabbed. But you'll say, your tongue said nothing. No, I warrant it: your tongue was wiser; your tongue was better bred; your tongue kept its own counsel: nay, I'll say that for you, your tongue said nothing.--Well, such a shamefaced couple did I never see, days o'my life! so 'fraid of one another; such ado to bring you to the business! Well, if this job were well over, if ever I lose my pains again with an aukward couple, let me be painted in the sign-post for the _labour in vain_: Fye upon't, fye upon't! there's no conscience in't: all honest people will cry shame on't.

_Cress._ Where is this monster to be shown? what's to be given for a sight of him?

_Pand._ Why, ready money, ready money; you carry it about you: give and take is square-dealing; for in my conscience he's as arrant a maid as you are. I was fain to use violence to him, to pull him hither: and he pulled, and I pulled: for you must know he's absolutely the strongest youth in Troy. T'other day he took Helen in one hand, and Paris in t'other, and danc'd 'em at one another at arms-end an' 'twere two moppets:--there was a back! there were bone and sinews! there was a back for you!

_Cress._ For these good procuring offices you'll be damned one day, uncle.

_Pand._ Who, I damned? Faith, I doubt I shall; by my troth I think I shall: nay if a man be damned for doing good, as thou say'st, it may go hard with me.

_Cress._ Then I'll not see prince Troilus; I'll not be accessary to your damnation.

_Pand._ How, not see prince Troilus? why I have engaged, I have promised, I have past my word. I care not for damning, let me alone for damning; I value not damning in comparison with my word. If I am damned, it shall be a good damning to thee, girl, thou shalt be my heir; come, 'tis a virtuous girl; thou shalt help me to keep my word, thou shalt see prince Troilus.

_Cress._ The venture's great.

_Pand._ No venture in the world; thy mother ventured it for thee, and thou shalt venture it for my little cousin, that must be.

_Cress._ Weigh but my fears: Prince Troilus is young.--

_Pand._ Marry is he; there's no fear in that, I hope: the fear were, if he were old and feeble.

_Cress._ And I a woman.

_Pand._ No fear yet; thou art a woman, and he's a man; put them together, put them together.

_Cress._ And if I should be frail--

_Pand._ There's all my fear, that thou art not frail: thou should'st be frail, all flesh is frail.

_Cress._ Are you my uncle, and can give this counsel to your own brother's daughter?

_Pand._ If thou wert my own daughter a thousand times over, I could do no better for thee; what wouldst thou have, girl? he's a prince, and a young prince and a loving young prince! an uncle, dost thou call me? by Cupid, I am a father to thee; get thee in, get thee in, girl, I hear him coming. And do you hear, niece! I give you leave to deny a little, 'twill be decent; but take heed of obstinacy, that's a vice; no obstinacy, my dear niece. [_Exit_ CRESSIDA.

_Enter_ TROILUS.

_Troil._ Now, Pandarus.

_Pand._ Now, my sweet prince! have you seen my niece? no, I know you have not.

_Troil._ No, Pandarus; I stalk about your doors. Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks, Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon, And give me swift transportance to Elysium, And fly with me to Cressida.

_Pand._ Walk here a moment more: I'll bring her strait.

_Troil._ I fear she will not come; most sure she will not.

_Pand._ How, not come, and I her uncle! why, I tell you, prince, she twitters at you. Ah poor sweet rogue! ah, little rogue, now does she think, and think, and think again of what must be betwixt you two. Oh sweet,--oh sweet--O--what, not come, and I her uncle?

_Troil._ Still thou flatter'st me; but pr'ythee flatter still; for I would hope; I would not wake out of my pleasing dream. Oh hope, how sweet thou art! but to hope always, and have no effect of what we hope!

_Pand._ Oh faint heart, faint heart! well, there's much good matter in these old proverbs! No, she'll not come, I warrant her; she has no blood of mine in her, not so much as will fill a flea. But if she does not come, and come, and come with a swing into your arms--I say no more, but she has renounced all grace, and there's an end.

_Troil._ I will believe thee: go then, but be sure.

_Pand._ No, you would not have me go; you are indifferent--shall I go, say you? speak the word then:--yet I care not: you may stand in your own light, and lose a sweet young lady's heart--well, I shall not go then.

_Troil._ Fly, fly, thou torturest me.

_Pand._ Do I so, do I so? do I torture you indeed? well, I will go.

_Troil._ But yet thou dost not go.

_Pand._ I go immediately, directly, in a twinkling, with a thought: yet you think a man never does enough for you; I have been labouring in your business like any moyle. I was with prince Paris this morning, to make your excuse at night for not supping at court; and I found him--faith, how do you think I found him? it does my heart good to think how I found him: yet you think a man never does enough for you.

_Troil._ Will you go then?--What's this to Cressida?

_Pand._ Why, you will not hear a man! what's this to Cressida? Why, I found him a-bed, a-bed with Helena, by my troth: 'Tis a sweet queen, a sweet queen; a very sweet queen,--but she's nothing to my cousin Cressida; she's a blowse, a gipsy, a tawny moor to my cousin Cressida; and she lay with one white arm underneath the whoreson's neck: Oh such a white, lilly-white, round, plump arm as it was--and you must know it was stripped up to the elbows; and she did so kiss him, and so huggle him!--as who should say--

_Troil._ But still thou stayest:--what's this to Cressida?

_Pand._ Why, I made your excuse to your brother Paris; that I think's to Cressida:--but such an arm, such a hand, such taper fingers! t'other hand was under the bed-cloaths; that I saw not, I confess; that hand I saw not.

_Troil._ Again thou torturest me.

_Pand._ Nay, I was tortured too; old as I am, I was tortured too: but for all that, I could make a shift, to make him, to make your excuse, to make your father--by Jove, when I think of that hand, I am so ravished, that I know not what I say: I was tortured too. [TROILUS _turns away discontented._ Well, I go, I go; I fetch her, I bring her, I conduct her; not come quotha, and I her uncle! [_Exit_ PANDARUS.

_Troil._ I'm giddy; expectation whirls me round: The imaginary relish is so sweet, That it enchants my sense; what will it be, When I shall taste that nectar? It must be either death, or joy too fine For the capacity of human powers. I fear it much: and I do fear beside, That I shall lose distinction in my joys; As does a battle, when they charge on heaps A flying enemy.

_Re-enter_ PANDARUS.

_Pand._ She's making her ready; she'll come strait: you must be witty now!--she does so blush, and fetches her breath so short, as if she were frighted with a sprite; 'tis the prettiest villain! she fetches her breath so short, as 'twere a new-ta'en sparrow.

_Troil._ Just such a passion does heave up my breast! My heart beats thicker than a feverish pulse: I know not where I am, nor what I do; Just like a slave, at unawares encountering The eye of majesty.--Lead on, I'll follow. [_Exeunt._