_Pand._ What a pair of spectacles is here! let me embrace too. _Oh, heart,_--as the saying is,-- _--o heart, o heavy heart, Why sigh'st thou without breaking!_ Where he answers again, _Because thou can'st not ease thy smart, By friendship nor by speaking._ There was never a truer rhyme: let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse; we see it, we see it.--How now, lambs? _Troil._ Cressid, I love thee with so strange a purity, That the blest gods, angry with my devotions, More bright in zeal than that I pay their altars, Will take thee from my sight. _Cres._ Have the gods envy? _Pand._ Ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case! _Cres._ And is it true, that I must go from Troy? _Troil._ A hateful truth. _Cres._ What, and from Troilus too? _Troil._ From Troy and Troilus,--and suddenly; So suddenly, 'tis counted out by minutes. _Cres._ What, not an hour allowed for taking leave? _Troil._ Even that's bereft us too: Our envious fates Jostle betwixt, and part the dear adieus Of meeting lips, clasped hands, and locked embraces. _AEneas._ [_Within._] My lord, is the lady ready yet? _Troil._ Hark, you are called!--Some say, the genius so Cries,--Come, to him who instantly must die. _Pand._ Where are my tears? some rain to lay this wind, Or my heart will be blown up by the roots! _Troil._ Hear me, my love! be thou but true, like me. _Cres._ I true! how now, what wicked thought is this? _Troil._ Nay, we must use expostulation kindly, For it is parting from us. I spoke not, be thou true, as fearing thee; But be thou true, I said, to introduce My following protestation,--be thou true, And I will see thee. _Cres._ You'll be exposed to dangers. _Troil._ I care not; but be true. _Cres._ Be true, again? _Troil._ Hear why I speak it, love. The Grecian youths are full of Grecian arts: Alas! a kind of holy jealousy, Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin, Makes me afraid how far you may be tempted. _Cres._ O heavens, you love me not! _Troil._ Die I a villain then! In this I do not call your faith in question, But my own merit. _Cres._ Fear not; I'll be true. _Troil._ Then, fate, thy worst! for I will see thee, love; Not all the Grecian host shall keep me out, Nor Troy, though walled with fire, should hold me in. _AEneas._ [_Within._] My lord, my lord Troilus! I must call you. _Pand._ A mischief call him! nothing but screech-owls? do, do, call again; you had best part them now in the sweetness of their love!--I'll be hanged if this AEneas be the son of Venus, for all his bragging. Honest Venus was a punk; would she have parted lovers? no, he has not a drop of Venus' blood in him--honest Venus was a punk. _Troil._ [_To Pand._] Pr'ythee, go out, and gain one minute more. _Pand._ Marry and I will: follow you your business; lose no time, 'tis very precious; go, bill again: I'll tell the rogue his own, I warrant him. [_Exit_ PANDARUS.