PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?
PARIS. What exploit's in hand? Where sups he to-night?
HELEN. Nay, but, my lord-
PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen?-My cousin will fall out with you.
HELEN. You must not know where he sups.
PARIS. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.
PANDARUS. No, no, no such matter; you are wide. Come, your disposer is sick.
PARIS. Well, I'll make's excuse.
PANDARUS. Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? No, your poor disposer's sick.
PARIS. I spy.
PANDARUS. You spy! What do you spy?-Come, give me an instrument. Now, sweet queen.
HELEN. Why, this is kindly done.
PANDARUS. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet queen.
HELEN. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my Lord Paris.
PANDARUS. He! No, she'll none of him; they two are twain.
HELEN. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.
PANDARUS. 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.
PANDARUS. Ay, you may, you may.
HELEN. Let thy song be love. This love will undo us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!
PANDARUS. Love! Ay, that it shall, i' faith.
PARIS. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
PANDARUS. In good troth, it begins so. [Sings] Love, love, nothing but love, still love, still more! For, oh, 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!
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.
PANDARUS. 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?
PARIS. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy. I would fain have arm'd to-day, 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. PANDARUS. Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they spend to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse?
PARIS. To a hair.
PANDARUS. Farewell, sweet queen.
HELEN. Commend me to your niece.
PANDARUS. I will, sweet queen.
Exit. Sound a retreat
PARIS. 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
HELEN. '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.
PARIS. Sweet, above thought I love thee.