Troilus replies that he is the "refus of every creature," and that love has overcome him and brought him to despair. Pandarus heaves a sigh of relief and says if that is all he will soon put matters right, for though he knows nothing of such foolishness himself, he can easily arrange the affair:-- A whetston is no kerving instrument, And yet it maketh sharpe kerving-tolis.[72] Troilus still refuses to be comforted and only casts up his eyes and sighs, whereupon Pandarus grows annoyed as well as anxious:-- And cryde "a-wake" ful wonderly and sharpe; What? slombrestow as in a lytargye?[73] Or artow lyk an asse to the harpe, That hereth soun, when men the strenges plye, But in his minde of that no melodye May sinken, him to glade, for that he So dul is of his bestialitee? Having at last succeeded in rousing the disconsolate lover and inducing him once more to take his part in the life of court and camp, Pandarus hurries off to interview his niece, whom he finds sitting with her maidens "with-inne a paved parlour" reading the geste of Thebes. The contrast between the shrewd, elderly man of the world and the love-sick youth has been admirably brought out in Book I; in Book II a different, but no less striking contrast is shown between the coarse humour and practical wisdom of the uncle and the daintiness and charm of the niece. Pandarus angles for Cressida and plays her as a skilful fisherman plays a trout. It is obvious that he regards the whole thing as a good-natured grown-up regards a children's game. It is deadly earnest to them, and since they take it so seriously he will do his best to help them, but all the while he considers it a piece of pretty and amusing childishness, though he takes pleasure in playing it adroitly. His idea of effective appeal is to poke his niece "ever newe and newe" and his jests when he has succeeded in bringing the lovers together savour more of the camp than the court. When the tragedy occurs and Troilus and Cressida are parted for ever, Pandarus has no better comfort to offer than the platitude:-- That alwey freendes may nought been y-fere,[74] and he evidently thinks that Troilus is making a most unnecessary fuss about it, though he is so sincerely distressed at Cressida's treachery that he offers--lightly enough--to "hate hir evermore":-- If I dide ought that mighte lyken thee, It is me leef;[75] and of this treson now, God woot, that it a sorwe is un-to me! And dredeless, for hertes ese of yow,[76] Right fayn wolde I amende it, wiste I how And fro this world, almighty god I preye Delivere hir sone; I can no-more seye. At the same time he is a person of some energy and force. When Troilus rushes about his chamber beating his head against the wall, And of his deeth roreth in compleyninge, Pandarus shows some impatience of such weakness and bids him pull himself together and ... manly set the world on sixe and sevene; And if thou deye a martir, go to hevene.