AENEAS

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

Exeunt TROILUS and AENEAS

PANDARUS

Is't possible? no sooner got but lost? The devil
take Antenor! the young prince will go mad: a
plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke 's neck!

Re-enter CRESSIDA

CRESSIDA

How now! what's the matter? who was here?

PANDARUS

Ah, ah!

CRESSIDA

Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord? gone!
Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?

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
gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!

CRESSIDA

Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees! 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 father,
and be gone from Troilus: 'twill be his death;
'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.

CRESSIDA

O you immortal gods! I will not go.

PANDARUS

Thou must.