THE BOY At your own house; there he unarms him.
PANDARUS Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy.] Fare ye well, good niece. [He goes off, above.]
CRESSIDA Adieu, uncle!
[Below, the last of the soldiers and populace have passed off, right, where Cressida gazes after them, speaking aloud to herself:]
O more in Troilus thousandfold I see Than in the glass of Pandar’s praise may be; Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing. Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing.
[Below, from the right, Troilus hastens back, alone. The arrow with the flower he has thrust through the links in his chain armor on his left side. Pointing to it, he calls up toward the battlement.]
TROILUS Cressida!
CRESSIDA [With a glad cry.] Troilus!
[Unwinding her long wine-red scarf, she ties it to the battlement, whence it flutters down to Troilus. Seizing it, he mounts by its aid toward the rampart, where the face of Cressida peers luringly above him.]
TROILUS [Calling upward as he mounts.] Cressida! [Just as he is about to reach Cressida,