Pandarus

Pandarus
Well, I have told you enough of this. For my
part, I’ll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will
have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the grinding.
Troilus
Have I not tarried?
Pandarus
Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
Troilus
Have I not tarried?
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Pandarus
Mark him. Note him. O brave Troilus! Look
well upon him, niece. Look you how his sword is
bloodied and his helm more hacked than Hector’s,
and how he looks, and how he goes. O admirable
youth! He never saw three and twenty.—Go thy
way, Troilus; go thy way!—Had I a sister were a
Grace,
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Cressida
Adieu, uncle.
Pandarus
I will be with you, niece, by and by.
Cressida
To bring, uncle?
Pandarus
Ay, a token from Troilus.
Cressida
By the same token, you are a bawd.
Pandarus exits.
Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love’s full sacrifice
He offers in another’s enterprise;
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Pandarus
I come to speak with Paris
from the Prince Troilus. I will make a complimental
assault upon him, for my business seethes.
Man
Sodden business! There’s a stewed phrase indeed.
 Enter Paris and Helen with Attendants.
Pandarus
Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair
company!
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Pandurus
Come, come, I’ll hear no more of this. I’ll
sing you a song now.
Helen
Ay, ay, prithee. Now, by my troth, sweet lord,
thou hast a fine forehead.
Pandurus
Ay, you may, you may.
Helen
Let thy song be love. “This love will undo us all.”
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Pandarus
Have you seen my cousin?
Troilus
No, Pandarus. I stalk about her door
Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me swift transportance to those fields
Where I may wallow in the lily beds
Proposed for the deserver! O, gentle Pandar,
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Cressida
Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart.
Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day
For many weary months.
Troilus
Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
Cressida
Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord,
With the first glance that ever—pardon me;
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Cressida
Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I
beseech you, what’s the matter?
Pandarus
Thou must be gone, wench; thou must be
gone. Thou art changed for Antenor. Thou must to
thy father and be gone from Troilus. ‘Twill be his
death; ’twill be his bane. He cannot bear it.
Cressida
O you immortal gods!
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Pandarus
Be moderate, be moderate.
Cressida
Why tell you me of moderation?
The grief is fine, full, perfect that I taste,
And violenteth in a sense as strong
As that which causeth it. How can I moderate it?
If I could temporize with my affection
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
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Cressida
And is it true that I must go from Troy?
Troilus
A hateful truth.
Cressida
What, and from Troilus too?
Troilus
From Troy and Troilus.
Cressida
Is ‘t possible?

We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
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