Page 2861 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature
Have not more gift in taciturnity.
Exeunt.

Enter Pandarus and Cressida.

PANDARUS
Is’t possible? No sooner got but lost? The devil take Antenor! The young

prince will go mad: a plague [75] upon Antenor! I would they had broke’s
neck!

CRESSIDA
How now! What’s the matter? Who was here?

PANDARUS
Ah, ha!

CRESSIDA
Why sigh you so profoundly? Where’s my lord? Gone? Tell me, sweet uncle,
what’s the matter? [80]

PANDARUS
Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above.

CRESSIDA
O the gods! What’s the matter?

PANDARUS
Prithee, get thee in. Would thou hadst ne’er been born! I knew thou wouldst
be his death − O, poor [85] gentleman! − A plague upon Antenor!

CRESSIDA
Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, what’s the matter?

PANDARUS
Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for

Antenor. Thou must to thy [90] father, and be gone from Troilus: ’twill be his