Hect. AEneas, go,
And bear my challenge to the Grecian camp. 
If there be one amongst the best of Greece,
Who holds his honour higher than his ease,
Who knows his valour, and knows not his fear;
Who loves his mistress more than in confession,
And dares avow her beauty and her worth,
In other arms than hers,—­to him this challenge. 
I have a lady of more truth and beauty,
Than ever Greek did compass in his arms;
And will to-morrow, with the trumpet’s call,
Mid-way between their tents and these our walls,
Maintain what I have said.  If any come,
My sword shall honour him; if none shall dare,
Then shall I say, at my return to Troy,
The Grecian dames are sun-burnt, and not worth
The splinter of a lance.

AEn. It shall be told them, As boldly as you gave it.

Priam. Heaven protect thee! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

  Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA.

Pand. Yonder he stands, poor wretch! there stands he with such a look, and such a face, and such begging eyes! there he stands, poor prisoner!

Cress. What a deluge of words do you pour out, uncle, to say just nothing?

Pand. Nothing, do you call it! is that nothing, do you call that nothing? why he looks, for all the world, like one of your rascally malefactors, just thrown off the gibbet, with his cap down, his arms tied down, his feet sprunting, his body swinging.  Nothing do you call it? this is nothing, with a vengeance!

Cress. Or, what think you of a hurt bird, that flutters about with a broken wing?

Pand. Why go to then, he cannot fly away then; then, that’s certain, that’s undoubted:  there he lies to be taken up:  but if you had seen him, when I said to him,—­Take a good heart, man, and follow me; and fear no colours, and speak your mind, man:  she can never stand you; she will fall, an’ ’twere a leaf in autumn,—­

Cress. Did you tell him all this, without my consent?

Pand. Why you did consent, your eyes consented; they blabbed, they leered, their very corners blabbed.  But you’ll say, your tongue said nothing.  No, I warrant it:  your tongue was wiser; your tongue was better bred; your tongue kept its own counsel:  nay, I’ll say that for you, your tongue said nothing.—­Well, such a shamefaced couple did I never see, days o’my life! so ’fraid of one another; such ado to bring you to the business!  Well, if this job were well over, if ever I lose my pains again with an aukward couple, let me be painted in the sign-post for the labour in vain:  Fye upon’t, fye upon’t! there’s no conscience in’t:  all honest people will cry shame on’t.

Cress. Where is this monster to be shown? what’s to be given for a sight of him?