out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many and Cres. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector angry? Alex. They say, he yesterday coped Hector in the battle, and struck him down: the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting and waking. Enter Pandarus. Alex. Madam, your uncle Pandarus. Cres. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus. Pan. Good morrow, Cousin Cressid: What do you talk of?-Good morrow, Alexander.-How do vou, cousin? When were you at Ilium? Cres. This morning, uncle. ? Pan. What were you talking of, when I came? Cres. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up. Cres. No, but brown. Pan. 'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown Cres. Then, Troilus should have too much; if she praised him above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as lief, Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose. Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him better than Paris. Cres. Then she's a merry Greek, indeed. Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him the other day into a compassed' window,-and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin. Cres. Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his particulars therein to a total. Pan. Why, he is very young; and yet will he, within three pound, lift as much as his brother Hector. Cres. Is he so young a man, and so old a lifter?" Pan. But, to prove to you that Helen loves him; Cres. That were we talking of, and of his anger.she came, and puts me her white hand to his Pan. Was he angry? Cres. What, is he angry too? Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two. Cres. O, Jupiter! there's no comparison. Cres. Ay; if ever I saw him before, and knew him. Pon. Well, I say, Troilus is Troilus. Cres. Then you say as I say; for I am sure, he is not lector. Pan. , nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees. Cres. 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself. were, Cres. So he is. Pan. 'Condition, I had gone barefoot to India. Pan. Himself? no, he's not himself.-Would a were himself! Well, the gods are above; Time must friend, or end: Well, Troilus, well,-I would my heart were in her body!-No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus. Cres. Excuse me. Pan. He is elder. Cres. Pardon me, pardon me. Pan. The other's not come to't; you shall tell me another tale, when the other's come to't. Hector shall not have his wit this year. Cres. He shall not need it, if he have his own. Cres. No matter. Pan. Nor his beauty. Cres. 'Twould not become him, his own's better. Pan. You have no judgment, niece: Helen herself swore the other day, that Troilus, for a brown favour, (for so 'tis, I must confess,)-Not brown neither. cloven chin, Cres. Juno have mercy!-How came it cloven? Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled: I think, his smiling becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia. Cres. O, he smiles valiantly. Pan. Does he not? Cres. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn. Pan. Why, go to then :-But to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus, Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so. Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg. Cres. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i'the shell. Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled his chin;-Indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess. Cres. Without the rack. Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin. Cres. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer. Pan. And Cassandra laughed. Cres. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes;-Did her eyes run o'er too? Pan. And Hector laughed. Cres. At what was all this laughing? Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus' chin. Cres. An't had been a green hair, I should have laughed too. Pan. They laughed not so much at the hair, as at his pretty answer. Cres. What was his answer? Pan. Quoth she, Here's but one and fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white. Cres. This is her question. Pan. That's true; make no question of that. One and fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white: That white hair is my father, and all the rest are his sons. Jupiter! quoth she, which of these hairs is Paris my husband? The forked one, quoth he; pluck it out, and give it him. But, there was (1) Bow. (2) Thief. (3) A proverbial saying. such laughing! and Helen so blushed, and Paris so chafed, and all the rest so laughed, that it passed.'not hear the people cry, Troilus ?—Helenus is a Cres. So let it now; for it has been a great while priest. going by. Pan. Well, cousin I told you a thing yesterday; think on't. Cres. So I do. Pan. I'll be sworn, 'tis true; he will weep you, an 'twere a man in April. Cres. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle against May. [A Retreat sounded. Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field: Shall we stand up here, and see them as they pass toward Ilium? good nicce, do; sweet niece Cressida. Cres. At your pleasure. Pan. Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may see most bravely: I'll tell you them all by their names, as they pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest. Cres. What sneaking fellow comes yonder? Troilus passes over. Pan. Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus: "Tis Troilus! there's a man, niece!-Hem! brave Tro lus! the prince of chivalry! Cres. Peace, for shame, peace! Pan. Mark him; note him;-O brave Troilus.look well upon him, niece; look you, how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hack'd than Hec tor's; And how he looks, and how he goes!-0 Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way; had I a sister admirable youth! he ne'er saw three and twenty. were a Grace, or a daughter a goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris?-Paris is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to change would give an eye to boot. Forces pass over the stage. Cres. Here come more. Pan. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran! porridge after meat! I could live and die i'the eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look ; the eagles are gone; crows and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus, than Agamemnon and all Greece. Cres. There is among the Greeks, Achilles; a better man than Troilus. Pan. Achilles? a drayman, a porter, a very camel. Pan. Well, well?-Why, have you any discre tion? have you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse. manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, libcrality, and such like, the spice and salt that seasor a man? Cres. Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked with no date in the pic,-for then the man's date is out. Pan. That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; There's a fellow-Go thy way, Hector-There's a brave man, niece,-0 brave Hector!-Look, how he looks! there's a countenance: Is't not a brave Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not a' man? what ward you lie. Cres. O, a brave man! Cres. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon Pan. Is a not? It does a man's heart good-my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to Look you what hacks are on his helmet: look you yonder, do you see? look you there! There's no jesting: there's laying on; take't off who will, as they say there he hacks! Cres. Be those with swords? Paris passes over. Pan. Swords? any thing, he cares not: an the devil come to him, it's all one: By god's lid it does one's heart good:-Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris: look ye yonder, niece; Is't not a galfant man too, is't not?-Why, this is brave now.Who said, he caine hurt home to-day? he's not nurt: why this will do Helen's heart good now. Ha! 'would I could see Troilus now!-you shall see Troilus anon. Cres. Who's that? defend mine honesty; my mask, to defend my beauty; and you to defend all these: and at all these wards I lie, at a thousand watches. Pan. Say one of your watches. Cres. Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the chiefest of them too: if I cannot ward what I would not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless it swell past hiding, and then it is past watching. Enter Troilus' Boy. Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. Boy. At your own house; there he unarms him. Pan. I'll be with you, niece, by and by. Pan. Ay, a token from Troilus. (5) Dates were an ingredient in ancient pastry 21 But more in Troilus thousand fold I see Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is: Agam. Princes, What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks? The ample proposition, that hope makes In all designs begun on earth below, Fails in the promis'd largeness: checks and disasters And, flies fled under shade, Why, then, the thing of courage, As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize, Ulyss. Should with a bond of air (strong as the axletree On which heaven rides,) knit all the Greekish ears To his experienc'd tongue, yet let it please both,-Thou great,-and wise,-to hear Ulysses speak. Agam. Speak, prince of Ithaca; and be❜t of less expect That matter needless, of importless burden, That after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls stand; We shall hear music, wit, and oracle. Sith every action that hath gone before, That gave't surmised shape. Why then, you princes, But the protractive trials of great Jove, Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat, But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage Ulyss. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master, But for these instances. The specialty of rule hath been neglected: Observe degree, priority, and place, 10 Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, In evil mixture to disorder wander, Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And the rude son should strike his father dead: So doubly seconded with will and power, And, last, eat up himself. Great Agamemnon, And this neglection of degree it is, That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot, Ulyss. The great Achilles,-whom opinion crowns The sinew and the forehand of our host,- Lies mocking our designs: With him, Patroclus, Breaks scurril jests; And with ridiculous and awkward action He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon, And, like a strutting player,-whose conceit To hear the wooden dialogue and sound Excitements to the field, or speech for truce, Nest. And in the imitation of these twain A slave, whose gall coins slanders like a mint,) Ulyss. They tax our policy, and call it cowardice; Nest. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse Men. From Troy. Ane. What would you 'fore our tent? Even this. Great Agamemnon's tent, I pray? Agam. With surety stronger than Achilles' arm 'Twixt his stretch'd footing, and the scaffoldage,-A stranger to those most imperial looks Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested' seeming Tis Nestor right! Now play him me, Patroclus, And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age In pleasure of my spleen. And in this fashion, Know them from eyes of other mortals? Ene. Ay; I ask, that I might waken reverence, How may How 1 Which is that god in office, guiding men? Ene. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm`d, Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Æneas, transcends. Agam. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas" (3) Supreme. (4) The galleries of the theatre. Trumpet, blow loud, Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents;- Nest. Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man Agam. Fair lord Æneas, let me touch your hand; To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir. Achilles shall have word of this intent; So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent: Yourself shall feast with us before you go, And find the welcome of a noble foe. [Exeunt all but Ulysses and Nestor. Ilus. Nestor,- . I have a young conception in my brain, sends, However it is spread in general name, Relates in purpose only to Achilles. Nest. The purpose is perspicuous even as sub stance, Whose grossness little characters sum up: Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose Ulyss. And wake him to the answer, think you? Yes, It is most meet; Whom may you else oppose, For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute In this wild action: for the success, Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd, part, To steel a strong opinion to themselves? Ulyss. Give pardon to my speech ;- Nest. I see them not with my old eyes; wheel are they? Ulyss. What glory our Achilles shares from Hector, Were he not proud, we all should share with: Lam: And we were better parch in Afric sun, (5) Small points compared with the volumes |