AEn. What!  Has the king resolved to gratify That traitor Calchas, who forsook his country, And turned to them, by giving up this pledge?

Hect. The bitter disposition of the time
Is such, though Calchas, as a fugitive,
Deserve it not, that we must free Antenor,
On whose wise counsels we can most rely;
And therefore Cressida must be returned.

AEn. A word, my lord—­Your pardon, Diomede—­ Your brother Troilus, to my certain knowledge, Does lodge this night in Pandarus’s house.

Hect. Go you before.  Tell him of our approach, Which will, I fear, be much unwelcome to him.

AEn. I assure you, Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece, Than Cressida from Troy.

Hect. I know it well; and how he is, beside, Of hasty blood.

AEn. He will not hear me speak;
But I have noted long betwixt you two
A more than brother’s love; an awful homage
The fiery youth pays to your elder virtue.

Hect. Leave it to me; I’ll manage him alone;
Attend you Diomede.—­My lord, good-morrow; [To DIOM. 
An urgent business takes me from the pleasure
Your company affords me; but AEneas,
With joy, will undertake to serve you here,
And to supply my room.

AEn. [To DIOM.] My lord, I wait you.
                            [Exeunt severally; DIOMEDE with AENEAS,
                             HECTOR at another Door.

Enter PANDARUS, a Servant, Music.

Pand. Softly, villain, softly; I would not for half Troy the lovers should be disturbed under my roof:  listen, rogue, listen; do they breathe?

Serv. Yes, sir; I hear, by some certain signs, they are both awake.

Pand. That’s as it should be; that’s well o’ both sides. [Listens.]—­Yes, ’faith, they are both alive:—­There was a creak! there was a creak! they are both alive, and alive like;—­there was a creak! a ha, boys!—­Is the music ready?

Serv. Shall they strike up, sir?

Pand. Art thou sure they do not know the parties?

Serv. They play to the man in the moon, for aught they know.

Pand. To the man in the moon? ah rogue! do they so indeed, rogue!  I understand thee; thou art a wag; thou art a wag.  Come, towze rowze! in the name of love, strike up, boys.

  Music, and then a Song; during which PANDARUS listens.

          I.

      Can life be a blessing,
      Or worth the possessing,
  Can life be a blessing, if love were away? 
    Ah, no! though our love all night keep us waking,
  And though he torment us with cares all the day,
    Yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains in the taking;
  There’s an hour at the last, there’s an hour to repay.