Pan. I have bufinefs to my lord, dear queen. My lord, will you vouchfafe me a word?

Helen. Nay, this fhall not hedge us out; we'll hear you fing, certainly.

Pan. Well, fweet queen, you are pleafant with me; but (marry) thus, my lord.My dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus

Helen. My lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord-
Pan. Go to, fweet queen, go to:-

Commends himself most affectionately to you.
Helen. You fhall not bob us out of our melody;
If you do, our melancholy upon your head!

Pan. Sweet queen, fweet queen; that's a fweet queen, I'faith

Helen. And to make a fweet lady fad, is a four offence.

Pan. Nay; that fhall not ferve your turn; that fhall it not in truth, la. Nay, I care not for fuch words; no, no. 3 And, my lord, he defires you, that if the king call for him at fupper, you will make his excufe.

Helen. My lord Pandarus

Pan. What fays my fweet queen; my very, very fweet queen.

Par. What exploit's in hand? Where fups he tonight?

Helen. Nay, but my lord

Pan. What fays my fweet queen? My cousin will fall out with you.

Helen. You muft not know where he fups.

Par. I'll lay my life, 4 with my difpofer Creffida.

Pen.

And, my lord, he defires you,] Here I think the speech. of Pandarus fhould begin, and the rest of it fhould be added to that of Helen, but I have followed the copies. JoHNSON. with my DISPOSER Crefida.] I think difpofer fhould, in thefe places, be read DISPOUSER; he that would feparate Helen from him. WARBURTON.

VOL. IX.

E

I do

Pan. No, no, no fuch matter; you are wide: come, your difpofer is fick.

Par. Well, I'll make excufe.

Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why fhould you fay, Creffida? No, your poor difpofer's fick.

Par. I fpy

Pan. You fpy! what do you fpy? Come, give me an inftrument.-Now, fweet queen.

Helen. Why, this is kindly done.

Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, fweet queen.

Helen. She fhall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris.

Pan. He? no, fhe'll none of him; they two are twain.

Helen. Falling in after falling out, may make them three.

Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this. I'll fing you a fong now.

Helen. Ay, ay, pr'ythee now. By my troth 5 fweet lord, thou haft a fine fore-head.

Pen. Ay, you may, you may.

Helen. Let thy fong be love: this love will undo us all. Oh, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!

I do not understand the word difpofer, nor know what to fubftitute in its place. There is no variation in the copies. JOHNS. I fufpect that, You must not know where he fups, should be added to the fpeech of Pandarus; and that the following one of Paris fhould be given to Helen. That Creffida wanted to feparate Paris from Helen, or that the beauty of Creffida had any power over Paris, are circumftances not evident from the play. The one is the opinion of Dr. Warburton, the other a conjecture offered by the author of The Revifal. By giving, however, this line, I'll lay my life, with my difpofer Greifida, to Helen, and by changing the word difpofer into depofer, fome meaning may be obtained. She addreffes herfelf, I fuppofe, to Pandarus, and, by her depofer, means he who thinks her beauty (or, whofe beauty you fuppofe) to be fuperior to mine.

STEEVENS.

5fweet lord,-] In the quarto fweet lad. JOHNS.

Pan.

Pan. Love!-ay, that it fhall, i̇'faith.

Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. Pan. In good troth, it begins fo:

Love, love, nothing but love, ftill more!

For ob, love's bow

Shoots buck and doe:
The shaft confounds,
Not that it wounds,
But tickles ftill the fore.

Thefe lovers cry, ob! oh! they die!

6 Yet that which feems the wound to kill,
Doth turn ob! oh! to ba! ha! be!
So dying love lives ftill:

Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ba! ba!
Oh! ob! groans out for ba! ba! ba!

Hey bo!

Helen. In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the nose. Par. 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 are

love.

Pan. 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 afield to-day?

Yet that, which feems the wound to kill,] To kill the wound is no very intelligible expreffion, nor is the measure preserved. We might read,

Thefe lovers cry,

Oh! oh! they die!

But that which feems to kill,

Doth turn, &c.

So dying love lives fill.

Yet as the wound to kill may mean the wound that Seems mortal,

I alter nothing. JOHNSON.

Par. 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 fo. How chance my brother Troilus went not?

Helen. He hangs the lip at fomething. You know all, lord Pandarus.

Pan. Not I, honey-fweet queen.I long to hear how they fped to-day. You'll remember

excufe?

Par. To a hair.

Pan. Farewell, fweet queen.

Helen. Commend me to your niece.
Pan. I will, fweet queen.

your brother's

[Exit. Sound a retreat. Par. They are come from 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 thefe your white enchanting fingers touch'd,
Shall more obey, than to the edge of steel,
Or force of Greekifh finews; you fhall do more
Than all the island kings; difarm great Hector.
Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his fervant,
Paris:

Yea, what he fhall receive of us in duty

Gives us more palm in beauty than we have;

Yea, over-fhines ourselves.

Par. Sweet. Above thought I love thee. [Exeunt.

Enter Pandarus and Troilus's Man.

Pan. How now? where's thy mafter? at my coufin Creffida's?

Serv. No, Sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.

Enter

Enter Troilus.

Pan. O, here he comes. How now, how now?
Troi. Sirrah, walk off.

Pan. Have you feen my coufin?

Troi. No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door,
Like a strange foul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me fwift tranfportance to thofe fields,
Where I may wallow in the lily beds

Propos'd for the deferver! O gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's fhoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Creffid!

Pan. Walk here i' the orchard; I will bring her
ftraight.
[Exit Pandarus.

Troi. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relifh is fo fweet

That it enchants my fenfe; what will it be,
When that the watry palate taftes, indeed,
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning deftruction; or fome joy too fine,
Too fubtle-potent, tun'd too fharp in fweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers:

1

I fear it much; and I do fear befides,
That I fhall lose distinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The enemy flying.

Re-enter Pandarus.

Pan. She's making her ready, fhe'll come ftraight: you must be witty now. She does fo blush, and fetches her wind fo fhort, as if fhe were fraid with a

and too fharp in fweetness,] So the folio and all

modern editions; but the quarto more accurately,

tun'd too fharp in fweetnefs. JOHNSON.