Come, come, I’ll hear no more of this

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.”
O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!
Pandurus
Love? Ay, that it shall, i' faith.
Paris
Ay, good now, “Love, love, nothing but love.”
Pandurus
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!” awhile, but “Ha ha ha!”
“O ho!”groans out for “ha ha ha!”—Hey ho!

Helen
In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nose.
Paris
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.
Pandurus
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
afield today?
Paris
Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the
gallantry of Troy. I would fain have armed today,
but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my
brother Troilus went not?
Helen
He hangs the lip at something.—You know all,
Lord Pandarus.
Pandurus
Not I, honey sweet queen. I long to hear how
they sped today.—You'll remember your brother's
excuse?
Paris
To a hair.
Pandurus
Farewell, sweet queen.
Helen
Commend me to your niece.
Pandurus
I will, sweet queen.

He exits.
Sound a retreat.