Page 2865 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

TROILUS

From Troy and Troilus.

CRESSIDA
Is’t possible?

TROILUS
And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, jostles roughly by

All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents [35]
Our locked embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath:
We two, that with so many thousand sighs

Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one. [40]
Injurious Time now, with a robber’s haste,

Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how;
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consigned kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu, [45]
And scants us with a single famished kiss,

Distasted with the salt of broken tears.

AENEAS
(within) My lord, is the lady ready?

TROILUS
Hark, you are called: some say the Genius so
Cries ‘Come!’ to him that instantly must die. − [50]

Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.

PANDARUS

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

CRESSIDA