1    Be moderate, be moderate.

2    Why tell you me of moderation?
3    The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,
4    And violenteth in a sense as strong
5    As that which causeth it: how can I moderate it?
6    If I could temporize with my affection,
7    Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
8    The like allayment could I give my grief.
9    My love admits no qualifying dross;
10   No more my grief, in such a precious loss.

11   Here, here, here he comes.
Enter TROILUS
12   Ah, sweet ducks!

13   O Troilus! Troilus!

14   What a pair of spectacles is here!
15   Let me embrace too. 'O heart,' as the goodly saying is,
16   '--O heart, heavy heart,
17   Why sigh'st thou without breaking?
18   where he answers again,
19   'Because thou canst not ease thy smart
20   By friendship nor by speaking.'
21   There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away
22   nothing, for we may live to have need of such a
23   verse: we see it, we see it. How now, lambs?

24   Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity,
25   That the bless'd gods, as angry with my fancy,
26   More bright in zeal than the devotion which
27   Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me.

28   Have the gods envy?

29   Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.

30   And is it true that I must go from Troy?

31   A hateful truth.

32   What, and from Troilus too?

33   From Troy and Troilus.

34   Is it possible?

35   And suddenly; where injury of chance
36   Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
37   All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
38   Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents
39   Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
40   Even in the birth of our own labouring breath:
41   We two, that with so many thousand sighs
42   Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
43   With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
44   Injurious time now with a robber's haste
45   Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:
46   As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
47   With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
48   He fumbles up into a lose adieu,
49   And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
50   Distasted with the salt of broken tears.

Within
51    My lord, is the lady ready?

52   Hark! you are call'd: some say the Genius so
53   Cries 'come' to him that instantly must die.
54   Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.

55   Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or
56   my heart will be blown up by the root.

57   I must then to the Grecians?

58   No remedy.

59   A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!
60   When shall we see again?

61   Hear me, my love: be thou but true of heart,--

62   I true! how now! what wicked deem is this?

63   Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
64   For it is parting from us:
65   I speak not 'be thou true,' as fearing thee,
66   For I will throw my glove to Death himself,
67   That there's no maculation in thy heart:
68   But 'be thou true,' say I, to fashion in
69   My sequent protestation; be thou true,
70   And I will see thee.

71   O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers
72   As infinite as imminent! but I'll be true.

73   And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.

74   And you this glove. When shall I see you?

75   I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,
76   To give thee nightly visitation.
77   But yet be true.

78   O heavens! 'be true' again!

79   Hear while I speak it, love:
80   The Grecian youths are full of quality;
81   They're loving, well composed with gifts of nature,
82   Flowing and swelling o'er with arts and exercise:
83   How novelty may move, and parts with person,
84   Alas, a kind of godly jealousy--
85   Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin--
86   Makes me afeard.

87   O heavens! you love me not.

88   Die I a villain, then!
89   In this I do not call your faith in question
90   So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing,
91   Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
92   Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,
93   To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant:
94   But I can tell that in each grace of these
95   There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil
96   That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.

97   Do you think I will?

98   No.
99   But something may be done that we will not:
100  And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
101  When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
102  Presuming on their changeful potency.

Within
103   Nay, good my lord,--

104  Come, kiss; and let us part.

Within
105   Brother Troilus!

106  Good brother, come you hither;
107  And bring AEneas and the Grecian with you.

108  My lord, will you be true?

109  Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:
110  Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion,
111  I with great truth catch mere simplicity;
112  Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
113  With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
114  Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit
115  Is 'plain and true;' there's all the reach of it.
116  Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady
117  Which for Antenor we deliver you:
118  At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand,
119  And by the way possess thee what she is.
120  Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
121  If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
122  Name Cressida and thy life shall be as safe
123  As Priam is in Ilion.

124  Fair Lady Cressid,
125  So please you, save the thanks this prince expects:
126  The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
127  Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
128  You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.

129  Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
130  To shame the zeal of my petition to thee
131  In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
132  She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises
133  As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.
134  I charge thee use her well, even for my charge;
135  For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,
136  Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,
137  I'll cut thy throat.

138  O, be not moved, Prince Troilus:
139  Let me be privileged by my place and message,
140  To be a speaker free; when I am hence
141  I'll answer to my lust: and know you, lord,
142  I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth
143  She shall be prized; but that you say 'be't so,'
144  I'll speak it in my spirit and honour, 'no.'

145  Come, to the port. I'll tell thee, Diomed,
146  This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.
147  Lady, give me your hand, and, as we walk,
148  To our own selves bend we our needful talk.

149  Hark! Hector's trumpet.

150  How have we spent this morning!
151  The prince must think me tardy and remiss,
152  That sore to ride before him to the field.

153  'Tis Troilus' fault: come, come, to field with him.

154  Let us make ready straight.

155  Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity,
156  Let us address to tend on Hector's heels:
157  The glory of our Troy doth this day lie
158  On his fair worth and single chivalry.