Pandarus is the scene's narrator and fixer. He cannot stop talking, cannot stop directing. He fills every silence with crude jokes, managing the moment like a stage director or a pimp. He leaves when the moment becomes too intimate — not from delicacy, but because his work is done.
How now! Where’s thy master? At my cousin Cressida’s?
Hey! Where is your master? Is he at my cousin Cressida's place?
Hey! Where's your boss? Is he at Cressida's?
where's your guy? at cressida's?
No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.
No, sir. He is waiting for you to lead him there.
No, he's waiting for you to take him there.
no he's waiting for u to take him
O, here he comes. How now, how now?
Oh, here he comes. How are you doing? How are you doing?
Oh, there he is. What's going on? What's going on?
he's here! what's up?
Troilus is almost inarticulate with desire and anxiety. His language is metaphorical, extravagant — the Stygian banks, the lily beds, death by joy. He cannot speak plainly because the weight of expectation has collapsed language. When Cressida arrives, he says 'You have bereft me of all words' — and means it literally.
Sirrah, walk off.
You there, go away.
Get out of here.
get outta here
Have you seen my cousin?
Do you know where my cousin is?
Have you seen Cressida?
seen cressida?
No, Pandarus. I stalk about her door
Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me swift transportance to these fields
Where I may wallow in the lily beds
Propos’d for the deserver! O gentle Pandar,
from Cupid’s shoulder pluck his painted wings,
and fly with me to Cressid!
No, Pandarus. I'm haunting her doorway like a restless spirit waiting for passage across the river of the dead. Oh, be my ferryman and carry me swiftly to those fields where I can lie in lily beds prepared for the one who deserves them! Oh gentle Pandarus, pluck Love's painted wings from his back and fly with me to Cressida!
No, Pandarus. I'm just hanging around her door like a ghost waiting to cross over. You be my guide and take me to her. Strip Cupid's wings off and let's go see Cressida right now!
pacing outside her place like a dead soul come be my guide let's go to her
Walk here i’ th’ orchard, I’ll bring her straight.
Walk here in the orchard. I'll bring her right away.
Hang out in the garden. I'll bring her right now.
wait here bringing her now
I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
Th’imaginary relish is so sweet
That it enchants my sense; what will it be
When that the wat’ry palate tastes indeed
Love’s thrice-repured nectar? Death, I fear me;
I'm dizzy; anticipation is spinning me around. The imagined taste is so sweet that it enchants my senses. What will it be when my actual palate truly tastes Love's triple-refined nectar? Death, I fear;
I'm dizzy with anticipation. Just imagining it is so good it's taking over my mind. When I actually get to be with her, what will happen? I might die;
so dizzy rn just thinking about it is way too much i might actually die
Sounding destruction; or some joy too fine,
Too subtle-potent, tun’d too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers.
I fear it much; and I do fear besides
That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The enemy flying.
announcing destruction; or some joy too refined, too subtly potent, tuned too sharply sweet, beyond the capacity of my crude powers. I fear it greatly; and I fear besides that I shall lose all distinction among my joys; As in a battle, when they charge in masses with the enemy fleeing.
That would be destruction; or maybe it's a joy so refined, so subtly powerful, so intensely sweet that my simple powers can't handle it. I'm terrified of that. And I'm also afraid that all my joys will just blend together into one confused mass, like soldiers charging and retreating in a chaotic battle.
it'd destroy me or the joy's too much too refined too sweet i can't take it all my feelings blur together like a confusing battle
She’s making her ready, she’ll come straight; you must be witty now.
She does so blush, and fetches her wind so short, as if she were fray’d
with a sprite. I’ll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain; she fetches
her breath as short as a new-ta’en sparrow.
She is getting ready. She will come right away. You must be clever now. She is blushing so much and breathing so hard, as if she has seen a ghost. I will fetch her. She is the most beautiful rascal; she is breathing as fast as a newly caught sparrow.
She's getting dressed and will be here any second. You better be charming. She's blushing like crazy and breathing hard like she's scared of something. I'll go get her. She's adorable like that—breathing so fast like a new-caught sparrow.
she's coming be charming she's nervous breathing fast like a bird
Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom.
My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse,
And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
Like vassalage at unawares encount’ring
The eye of majesty.
Just such emotion embraces my chest. My heart beats faster than a feverish pulse, and all my powers are losing their strength, like a subject unexpectedly meeting the eye of a king.
That's exactly how I feel. My heart is pounding way too fast, and I'm losing all my strength, like I'm standing in front of someone really important.
same heart racing feels like facing a king
Come, come, what need you blush? Shame’s a baby. Here she is now; swear
the oaths now to her that you have sworn to me.—What, are you gone
again? You must be watch’d ere you be made tame, must you? Come your
ways, come your ways; and you draw backward, we’ll put you i’ th’
fills. Why do you not speak to her? Come, draw this curtain and let’s
see your picture. Alas the day, how loath you are to offend daylight!
And ’twere dark, you’d close sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss the
mistress. How now, a kiss in fee-farm! Build there, carpenter; the air
is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you. The
falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i’ th’ river. Go to, go to.
Come on, why are you blushing? Shame is just a baby. Here she is now. Swear to her the oaths now that you swore to me. What, have you gone silent? You need to be watched over before you can be tamed, is that it? Come on, come on. If you step back, we'll put you in the saddle. Why don't you speak to her? Come, open this curtain so we can see your beautiful moment. It's such a shame how unwilling you are to use daylight! If it were dark, you would close together faster. Go on, keep going, and kiss the lady. What's this, a permanent kiss? Build here, carpenter; the air is sweet. No, you'll fight it out before I let you go. The falcon and the male hawk fight over all the ducks in the river. Go on, go on.
Stop blushing! Shame's nothing. Here she is. Swear to her what you swore to me. What, are you frozen now? You need a handler, is that it? Come on, don't run away or I'll make you. Why aren't you saying anything? Come on, let's see you two together. You're so shy in the daylight! If it were dark you'd be all over her. Good, kiss her. What a kiss! Looks like you're building a house here. The air's sweet. I'm not letting you go yet. You two fight it out like hawks fighting over ducks. Go on!
stop blushing she's here now kiss her already stop being shy i'm not separating u
You have bereft me of all words, lady.
You have taken all my words away from me, lady.
You've left me speechless.
u have me speechless
Words pay no debts, give her deeds; but she’ll bereave you o’ th’ deeds
too, if she call your activity in question. What, billing again? Here’s
‘In witness whereof the parties interchangeably.’ Come in, come in;
I’ll go get a fire.
Words do not pay debts. Give her actions instead. But she will also take away your actions if she questions how active you are. What, are you kissing again? Here it is: 'In witness of which the parties mutually agree.' Come inside. I will go start a fire.
Words don't matter—show her with actions. Although she might take those away too if she questions your effort. What, you're making out again? Fine, fine. This is like a contract being signed. Come on, let's go inside. I'll get the fire going.
stop talking show her can't believe you're making out again let's go inside
Troilus has spent three acts building a fantasy of Cressida. Now that she finally arrives, the reality cannot match the fantasy. He cannot stop speaking in hyperbole and metaphor — the Stygian banks, the lily beds, death by joy. When she appears, he says 'You have bereft me of all words,' which is both true and ironic: he has lost the ability to speak plainly because she is real now, and reality cannot be narrated in the same baroque way as fantasy. The scene's brilliant tragedy is that the moment Troilus has been waiting for is the moment when fantasy dies. From this point forward, Cressida ceases to be a woman and becomes either a defense of the fantasy (which she must never betray) or a betrayal of it (if she shows herself to be human, changeable, mortal).
Cressida says almost nothing in this scene. She blushes, she breathes short, she yields. Her silence is not timidity but a kind of knowledge — she knows Pandarus is watching, that this is being performed. Her few lines are practical: 'Will you walk in, my lord?'
Will you walk in, my lord?
Will you come inside, my lord?
Want to come inside?
come inside?
O Cressid, how often have I wish’d me thus!
Cressida, how often I have wished to be in this moment!
Cressida, I've wanted this moment so many times!
cressida i've dreamed of this
Wish’d, my lord! The gods grant—O my lord!
You've wished for it, my lord! May the gods grant it—Oh my lord!
You've wanted this! God, yes—Oh my lord!
u've wanted this yes oh my
What should they grant? What makes this pretty abruption? What too
curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our love?
What should they grant? What causes this beautiful confusion? What tiny fault does my sweet lady see in the spring of our love?
What could they grant? Why are you holding back? What flaw do you see in our love?
what's wrong? what flaw do u see?
More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.
More impurities than clear water, if my fears are seeing correctly.
Way more flaws than that, if I'm judging right.
so many flaws if i'm seeing right
Fears make devils of cherubins; they never see truly.
Fear transforms angels into devils; it never shows things as they really are.
Fear turns everything into monsters. It messes with your vision.
fear makes u see evil it's not real
Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing than blind
reason stumbling without fear. To fear the worst oft cures the worse.
Blind fear, guided by reason that can see, finds safer ground than blind reason stumbling without fear's direction. To expect the worst often prevents the worst from happening.
Fear that listens to reason does better than pure reason without any sense of caution. Expecting bad things sometimes stops them from happening.
fear with reason is safer than blind hope preparing for worst helps
O, let my lady apprehend no fear! In all Cupid’s pageant there is
presented no monster.
Oh, let my lady feel no fear! In all the pageantry of Cupid there is no monster presented.
Don't be afraid! In all of love's display there's nothing monstrous.
don't be scared nothing bad here
Nor nothing monstrous neither?
And nothing monstrous either?
Nothing monstrous at all?
really nothing bad?
Nothing, but our undertakings when we vow to weep seas, live in fire,
eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our mistress to devise
imposition enough than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed. This
is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will is infinite, and the
execution confin’d; that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave
to limit.
Nothing, except our attempts when we swear to weep oceans, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers—thinking it is harder for our mistress to come up with demands than for us to perform any hardship. This is the monstrosity in love, lady: the will is infinite, but the actual ability is limited; the desire is boundless, but the action is enslaved to bounds.
Nothing, except we always promise crazy things—to cry oceans, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers—all for you. We think your demands could never match what we'd do. The real monster of love is that we want everything but can actually only do so much. Our desire knows no limits, but our actions do.
except we're always making impossible promises the problem is we want everything but can only do so much
They say all lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet
reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the
perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one.
They that have the voice of lions and the act of hares, are they not
monsters?
They say all lovers swear they will do more than they are able, and yet they hold back abilities they never use. They promise more than ten perfect men could deliver and accomplish less than one tenth of one man. Those with the voice of lions and the actions of hares—are they not monsters?
People say lovers always promise more than they can do. They keep abilities hidden and never use them. They brag about doing more than ten perfect guys could do, then do barely anything. It's monstrous—the courage of a lion with the guts of a rabbit.
lovers promise everything then do nothing like cowards pretending to be brave that's monstrous
Are there such? Such are not we. Praise us as we are tasted, allow us
as we prove; our head shall go bare till merit crown it. No perfection
in reversion shall have a praise in present. We will not name desert
before his birth; and, being born, his addition shall be humble. Few
words to fair faith: Troilus shall be such to Cressid as what envy can
say worst shall be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak
truest not truer than Troilus.
Are there such men? We are not. Judge us as you find us. Accept us as we prove ourselves. Our heads will remain uncovered until merit crowns us. No future perfection will receive praise in the present. We will not speak of accomplishment before it happens, and once it does happen, we will speak of it humbly. Few words but true faith: Troilus will be to Cressida such that whatever envy can say worst will only be a joke compared to his truth. And what truth can speak as truly is not truer than Troilus.
Are there? We're not those guys. Look at what we actually do. Our heads stay bare until we've earned something worth praising. We won't brag about what we'll do, and when we do it, we'll stay humble about it. I'm giving you my word: Troilus will treat Cressida so well that any mean thing people say will just be a bad joke. And truth itself isn't truer than I am.
we're not like that judge us by what we do no bragging from us truth won't be truer than me
Will you walk in, my lord?
Will you come inside, my lord?
Want to come inside?
come inside?
What, blushing still? Have you not done talking yet?
Why are you still so flushed? When will you ever stop chattering?
Still blushing? Are you ever going to stop talking?
still blushing? stop talking already
Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.
Well, uncle, whatever foolish thing I do, I dedicate it to you.
Well, uncle, whatever stupid thing I'm about to do, it's your fault.
whatever i do wrong that's on u
I thank you for that; if my lord get a boy of you, you’ll give him me.
Be true to my lord; if he flinch, chide me for it.
I thank you for that. If my lord has a son with you, you will give him to me. Be true to my lord. If he disappoints you, blame me for it.
Thanks for that. If you have a kid with him, I get him. Be loyal to him. And if he lets you down, it's my fault.
thx if u have his baby give it to me be loyal if he fails it's my bad
You know now your hostages: your uncle’s word and my firm faith.
You now know your security: your uncle's guarantee and my firm faithfulness.
You have your guarantees now: your uncle's word and my promise.
u got promises from both of us
Nay, I’ll give my word for her too: our kindred, though they be long
ere they are wooed, they are constant being won; they are burs, I can
tell you; they’ll stick where they are thrown.
No, I will also give my word for her. Our family, though it takes a long time to win them over, is constant once they are won. They are burs, I can tell you. They will stick wherever they are thrown.
I'll promise for her too. Our family takes forever to convince, but once you win them, they stay. They're like sticky burrs—they'll stick wherever you put them.
i promise for her too family's hard to win but then they stick around
Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart.
Prince Troilus, I have lov’d you night and day
For many weary months.
Courage comes to me now and gives me strength. Prince Troilus, I have loved you day and night for many long months.
I'm feeling brave now. Troilus, I've been in love with you night and day for so many months.
i'm brave now i've loved u for months every day every night
Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
Why was my Cressida then so difficult to win?
So why did it take so long to get you?
why did u make me wait so long
Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord,
With the first glance that ever—pardon me.
If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
I love you now; but till now not so much
But I might master it. In faith, I lie;
My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!
Why have I blabb’d? Who shall be true to us,
When we are so unsecret to ourselves?
But, though I lov’d you well, I woo’d you not;
And yet, good faith, I wish’d myself a man,
Or that we women had men’s privilege
Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,
For in this rapture I shall surely speak
The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel. Stop my mouth.
Hard to seem won, but I was won from the first glance—pardon me. If I confess too much, you will become a tyrant. I love you now, but until now not enough that I could not control it. Actually, I am lying. My thoughts have been like wild children, too headstrong for their mother. Look at us fools! Why did I blurt this out? Who will be true to us when we are so open about ourselves? But although I loved you well, I did not pursue you. And yet, honestly, I wished I was a man or that we women had the same right as men to speak first. Love, tell me to be quiet because in this excitement I will definitely speak something I will regret. See how your silence, being cleverly quiet, draws out my deepest secrets from my weakness. Stop my mouth.
I was hard to get, but I fell for you from the moment I saw you. Sorry, but if I tell you everything, you might take advantage of it. I love you now more than I ever thought I would, so I lied just then. My thoughts have been running wild like crazy kids, too much for me to handle. Look at us! Why did I just tell you all that? Who will believe in us if we show our cards like this? But the truth is, I loved you for a while, I just never told you. Honestly, I wish I was a man so I could talk first. Please don't let me say anything else because I'm going to say something I regret. Your silence is making me spill everything. Shut me up.
seemed hard to get but u got me from day one sorry i'm saying too much i love u way more than i can control my brain's been going crazy why am i telling u if i keep talking i'll say something bad stop me
Pandarus narrates every moment of the lovers' meeting in terms of debt, payment, legal contract, and property. A kiss is 'in fee-farm' (property rental). Troilus must pay with deeds, not words. Everything is transactional. This matters profoundly because it means the play cannot allow us to see the lovers' meeting as transcendent or sacred — it's always being narrated as a commercial transaction. Pandarus is the pimp, and his language is the language of the pimp: physical, crude, transactional. By the end of the scene, Cressida and Troilus have been metaphorically sold into the meeting by his commentary. The audience never gets to experience their meeting as they do — we only ever see it through Pandarus's reduction of it.
And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.
And I will, even though sweet music comes from your mouth.
I will, even though you're saying beautiful things.
i will even tho u sound perfect
Pretty, i’ faith.
That's lovely, truly.
That's nice, honestly.
cute lol
My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;
’Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss.
I am asham’d. O heavens! what have I done?
For this time will I take my leave, my lord.
My lord, I ask your pardon. It was not my intention to ask for a kiss this way. I am ashamed. Oh heavens! What have I done? For now I will take my leave, my lord.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask for a kiss like that. I'm embarrassed. What have I just done? I need to go now.
sorry did not mean to ask for that i'm embarrassed i gotta go
Your leave, sweet Cressid!
You're leaving, sweet Cressida!
You're leaving, Cressida!
wait u're leaving?
Leave! And you take leave till tomorrow morning—
Leave! And if you leave, it will not be until tomorrow morning—
You're leaving? If you leave, it won't be until tomorrow morning—
leaving? u're not leaving til tomorrow
Pray you, content you.
I ask you, be satisfied.
Please, be happy with that.
just be cool
What offends you, lady?
What bothers you, lady?
What's wrong?
something bugging u?
Sir, mine own company.
Sir, it is my own presence.
It's being around myself that bothers me.
i can't stand myself rn
You cannot shun yourself.
You cannot avoid yourself.
You can't get away from yourself.
u can't escape urself
Let me go and try.
I have a kind of self resides with you;
But an unkind self, that itself will leave
To be another’s fool. I would be gone.
Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.
Let me go and try. I have a part of myself that stays with you, but a cruel part of myself that will leave to become someone else's fool. I would be gone. Where is my sense? I do not know what I am saying.
Let me try to get away. There's a part of me that lives with you now, but a part that will leave and mess things up. I need to leave. Where did my brain go? I don't know what I'm saying.
let me go part of me's with u part of me's gonna ruin it i don't know what i'm saying
Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.
Those who speak so wisely certainly know what they are speaking.
Anyone who talks that smart knows what they're saying.
u know what u're saying that's smart
Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;
And fell so roundly to a large confession
To angle for your thoughts; but you are wise—
Or else you love not; for to be wise and love
Exceeds man’s might; that dwells with gods above.
Perhaps, my lord, I show more strategy than love, and I fell so readily into a large confession to fish for your thoughts. But you are wise. Or else you do not love, because being wise and in love exceeds human capability; that lives only with the gods above.
Maybe I was being strategic instead of honest, trying to figure out what you think about me. But you're smart. Or maybe you just don't love me, because honestly being smart and being in love at the same time is impossible—only gods can do that.
maybe i'm being strategic trying to figure u out u're too smart or u don't love me being both is impossible
O that I thought it could be in a woman—
As, if it can, I will presume in you—
To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love;
To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
Outliving beauty’s outward, with a mind
That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
Or that persuasion could but thus convince me
That my integrity and truth to you
Might be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnowed purity in love.
How were I then uplifted! But, alas,
I am as true as truth’s simplicity,
And simpler than the infancy of truth.
Oh, that I could believe it is possible in a woman—and if it is, I will trust it in you—to continuously fuel her lamp and flames of love, to keep her faithfulness in youth and commitment, outlasting outer beauty with a mind that renews faster than blood decays. Or that I could be convinced that my integrity and truth to you might match and equal such a refined purity in love. How elevated I would be! But, alas, I am as true as truth itself, and simpler than truth's very beginning.
I wish I could believe you can keep your love burning forever, keeping your loyalty as your beauty fades, with a mind that stays fresh and young. I wish I could believe my faithfulness deserves to match yours. That would make me the happiest guy. But honestly, I'm just genuine and straightforward, more simple and pure than the idea of truth itself.
i wish u'd love me forever keep it going as we age w a fresh mind maybe i'm worthy of u i'm real just pure simple truth
In that I’ll war with you.
In that I will compete with you.
I'll fight you on that.
i'll fight u on that
O virtuous fight,
When right with right wars who shall be most right!
True swains in love shall in the world to come
Approve their truth by Troilus, when their rhymes,
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
Want similes, truth tir’d with iteration—
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to th’ centre—
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
As truth’s authentic author to be cited,
‘As true as Troilus’ shall crown up the verse
And sanctify the numbers.
What a virtuous battle, when right fights with right about who will be most right! True lovers in the future will prove their faithfulness by Troilus, when their poems, full of promises, oaths, and grand comparisons, lack similes and truth grows tired from repetition—as true as steel, as plants grow toward the moon, as the sun to day, as the turtle dove to her mate, as iron to magnetic stone, as earth to its center—yet, after all comparisons of truth, 'As true as Troilus' will crown the verse and make the words sacred.
What a beautiful battle, truth fighting truth over who's most loyal! Future lovers will use my name to prove how faithful they are when they run out of comparisons—truer than steel, more fixed than plants following the moon, more constant than the sun or a dove with her mate—but none of that will matter because everyone will just say 'as true as Troilus' and that will be the final word on loyalty.
this is righteous future lovers gonna use my name as the definition of loyalty 'as true as troilus' that's it
Prophet may you be!
If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot itself,
When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,
And blind oblivion swallow’d cities up,
And mighty states characterless are grated
To dusty nothing—yet let memory
From false to false, among false maids in love,
Upbraid my falsehood when th’ have said ‘As false
As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer’s calf,
Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son’—
Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,
‘As false as Cressid.’
May you be a prophet! If I am false, or swerve even a hair from truth, when time is old and has forgotten itself, when water has worn away the stones of Troy, and blind forgetting has consumed cities, and mighty states without character are ground into dusty nothing—yet let memory condemn my falsehood forever among false maidens in love, saying 'As false as air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, as a fox to a lamb, or a wolf to a calf, a leopard to a deer, or a stepmother to her son'—yes, let them say, to pierce the heart of falsehood, 'As false as Cressida.'
I hope you're right! If I'm ever disloyal, even a tiny bit, even when the world ends and Troy is forgotten, let them remember my betrayal. Let them compare all lies to me. Let them say 'as false as air, as false as water or wind, as false as a predator to its prey, as false as a stepmother'—let them say 'as false as Cressida' to mean the worst betrayal.
if i'm ever false let history remember let them compare all lies to me 'as false as cressida' for the worst betrayal
Go to, a bargain made; seal it, seal it; I’ll be the witness. Here I
hold your hand; here my cousin’s. If ever you prove false one to
another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all
pitiful goers-between be call’d to the world’s end after my name—call
them all Pandars; let all constant men be Troiluses, all false women
Cressids, and all brokers between Pandars. Say ‘Amen.’
Come on, a deal is made. Seal it, seal it. I will be the witness. Here I hold your hand. Here is my cousin's hand. If either of you proves false to the other, since I have taken such trouble to bring you together, let all pitiful go-betweens in the world be called by my name at the end of the world—call them all Pandars. Let all faithful men be Troiluses, all false women Cressidas, and all brokers between be Pandars. Say Amen.
Okay, deal's done. Shake on it, seal it. I'm the witness. Your hand, her hand. If either of you cheats, then forever after, people will use my name as a curse word for all matchmakers. Faithful guys will be called Troiluses, unfaithful women Cressidas, and go-betweens Pandars. Say Amen.
deal's sealed I'm witness if u cheat people will curse my name forever say amen
Amen.
Amen.
amen.
amen.
Amen.
Amen.
amen.
amen.
Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber and a bed; which bed, because
it shall not speak of your pretty encounters, press it to death. Away!
Amen. On which I will show you a bedroom and a bed, which bed, because it will not speak of your beautiful encounters, I will press it to silence. Go away!
Amen. Now I'll show you to a bedroom. The bed won't talk about what you do on it, so it'll keep quiet. Now go!
amen i'll show u the bedroom the bed won't tell now go
And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here,
Bed, chamber, pander, to provide this gear!
And may Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here bed, chamber, pander, to provide what they need!
And may Cupid bless all the shy girls out there who can't speak up, giving them a bed, a private room, someone to help them along, and everything they need!
cupid bless shy girls who can't find words give em a bed give em a room give em help give em what they need
The Reckoning
The scene is the lovers' first meeting — the payoff to three acts of Troilus's obsession and Pandarus's scheming. Yet the moment itself feels fragile. Troilus is almost incapacitated by expectation; Cressida arrives blushing; Pandarus cannot stop talking. The meeting that was supposed to be transcendent becomes an awkward, watched thing, with Pandarus narrating every moment in terms of sex and mechanics. The scene raises a haunting question: can real desire survive the moment it's finally satisfied?
If this happened today…
Two people who've been texting for months finally meet in person. One is shaking with nerves, rehearsing the moment obsessively. The other is flushed and hesitant. Their mutual friend, who set them up, won't leave them alone and keeps making sex jokes and pushing them to kiss. The reality lands flat against the fantasy.