PARIS.
You have broke it, cousin; and by my life, you shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance.
HELEN.
He is full of harmony.
PANDARUS.
Truly, lady, no.
HELEN.
O, sir—
PANDARUS.
Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
PARIS.
Well said, my lord. Well, you say so in fits.
PANDARUS.
I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word?
HELEN.
Nay, this shall not hedge us out. We’ll hear you sing, certainly—
PANDARUS.
Well sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But, marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus—
HELEN.
My Lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord—