_Ulys._ So I hope. Pray heaven Thersites have informed me true!-- [_Aside._ _Troil._ Good night, my lord; accept distracted thanks! [_Exit_ ULYSSES. _Enter_ PANDARUS. _Pand._ Hear ye, my lord, hear ye; I have been seeing yon poor girl. There have been old doings there, i'faith. _Troil._ [_Aside._] Hold yet, my spirits: let him pour it in: The poison's kind: the more I drink of it, The sooner 'twill dispatch me. _AEn._ to _Pand._ Peace, thou babbler! _Pand._ She has been mightily made on by the Greeks: she takes most wonderfully among 'em. Achilles kissed her, and Patroclus kissed her: nay, and old Nestor put aside his grey beard, and brushed her with his whiskers. Then comes me Agamemnon with his general's staff, diving with a low bow even to the ground, and rising again, just at her lips: and after him came Ulysses, and Ajax, and Menelaus: and they so pelted her, i'faith, pitter patter, pitter patter, as thick as hail-stones. And after that, a whole rout of 'em: never was a woman in Phrygia better kissed. _Troil._ [_Aside._] Hector said true: I find, I find it now! _Pand._ And, last of all, comes me Diomede, so demurely: that's a notable sly rogue, I warrant him! mercy upon us, how he laid her on upon the lips! for, as I told you, she's most mightily made on among the Greeks. What, cheer up, I say, man! she has every one's good word. I think, in my conscience, she was born with a caul upon her head. _Troil._ [_Aside._] Hell, death, confusion, how he tortures me! _Pand._ And that rogue-priest, my brother, is so courted and treated for her sake: the young sparks do so pull him about, and haul him by the cassock: nothing but invitations to his tent, and his tent, and his tent. Nay, and one of 'em was so bold, as to ask him, if she were a virgin; and with that, the rogue, my brother, takes me up a little god in his hand, and kisses it, and swears devoutly that she was; then was I ready to burst my sides with laughing, to think what had passed betwixt you two. _Troil._ O I can bear no more! she's falsehood all: False by both kinds; for with her mother's milk She sucked the infusion of her father's soul. She only wants an opportunity; Her soul's a whore already. _Pand._ What, would you make a monopoly of a woman's lips? a little consolation, or so, might be allowed, one would think, in a lover's absence. _Troil._ Hence from my sight! Let ignominy brand thy hated name; Let modest matrons at thy mention start; And blushing virgins, when they read our annals, Skip o'er the guilty page that holds thy legend, And blots the noble work.