Par. What exploit's in hand? where sups he to-night?[1556]

Helen. Nay, but, my lord,—

Pan. What says my sweet queen? My cousin will[1557][1558]
fall out with you. You must not know where he sups.[1557][1558][1559] 80

Par. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.[1557][1560][1561]

Pan. No, no, no such matter; you are wide: come,
your disposer is sick.[1561]

Par. Well, I'll make excuse.[1562]

Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? 85
no, your poor disposer's sick.[1561][1563]

Par. I spy.[1564]

Pan. You spy! what do you spy? Come, give me an
instrument. Now, sweet queen.[1565]

Helen. Why, this is kindly done.[1566] 90