Imatges de pÓgina
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Æne. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield ?
Tro. Because not there : This woman's answer sorts,

For womanish it is to be from thence.

What news, Æneas, from the field to-day ?
ÆNE. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Tro. By whom, Æneas ?

Troilus, by Menelaus.
TRO. Let Paris bleed: 't is but a scar to scorn;

Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.
ÆNE. Hark! what good sport is out of town to-day !
TRO. Better at home, if would I might” were

But to the sport abroad :- Are you bound thither ?
Æxe. In all swift haste.

Come, go we then together.



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CRES. Who were those went by ?

Queen Hecuba, and Helen.
CRES. And whither go they?

Up to the eastern tower,
Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
To see the battle. Hector, whose patience
Is, as a virtue, fix'd, to-day was mov'd :
He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer;
And, like as there were husbandry in war,
Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,
And to the field

he; where


flower Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw

In Hector's wrath. CRES.

What was his cause of anger? ALEX. The noise goes, this: There is among the Greeks

A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;

They call him Ajax. CRES.

Good; and what of him? ALEX. They say he is a very man per se,

And stands alone. CRES. So do all men ; unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs. ALEX. This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their particular additions ;

he is as valiant as the lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours, that his valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with discretion : there is no man hath a virtue that he hath not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint but he carries some stain of it: he is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair: He hath the joints of everything; but everything so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblinded a Argus, all eyes and no

sight. 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


CRES. Who comes here?
Alex. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
CRES. Hector 's a gallant man.
ALEX. As may be in the world, lady.
Pan. What 's that? what 's that?
CRES. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.
Pan. Good morrow, cousin Cressid : What do you talk of ?-Good morrow,

Alexander.—How do you, cousin ? When were you at Ilium"?
CREs. This morning, uncle.
Pan. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector armed, and gone,

ere ye came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she ? CREs. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up. Pan. E'en so; Hector was stirring early. CREs. That were we talking of, and of his anger. Pan. Was he angry? CRES. So he says here. Pan. True, he was so; I know the cause too; {he 'll lay about him to-day, I can

tell them that: and there 's Troilus will not come far behind him; let

them take heed of Troilus; I can tell them that too.
CREs. What, is he angry too?
Pan. Who, Troilus ? Troilus is the better man of the two.
CRES. O, Jupiter! there 's no comparison.

a Purblinded in the folio-the quarto, purblind.

Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector ?

you know a man if you see him ?
CRES. Ay; if I ever saw him before, and knew him.
Pan. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.
CREs. Then you say as I say; for I am sure he is not Hector.
Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees.
CRES. 'T is just to each of them; he is himself.
Pan. Himself? Alas, poor Troilus ! I would he were.
CRES. So he is.
Pan. 'Condition, I had gone barefoot to India.
CRES. He is not Hector.
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 bave his wit a this year. CRES. He shall not need it, if he have his own. Pan. Nor his qualities ;CRES. No matter. Pan. Nor his beauty. CRES. 'T would 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 't is, I must confess,)-Not brown

neither. CRES. No, but brown. Pan. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown. CREs. To say the truth, true and not true. Pan. She praised his complexion above Paris. CRES. Why, Paris hath colour enough. Pan. So he has. 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 bim 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 the

compassed windowb,—and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.

a Wit. This is Rowe's correction:-both the old copies have will.

Compassed window-a bow-window.

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 a ? Pan. But, to prove to you that Helen loves him ;-she came, and puts me her

white hand to his cloven chin, CRES. Juno have mercy !-How came it cloven ? Pan. Why, you know, 't is 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 't were a cloud in autumn.
Pan. Why, go to then.—But to prove to you that Hele ves Troilus,
CRES. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you 21

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 rich Pan. But there was such laughing ;-Queen Hecuba laughed, that her eyes

ran o'er. CRES. With mill-stones. Pan. And Cassandra laughed. CREs. But there was 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 two 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. "Two and fifty hairs,"quoth

Lifter-thief. We still say a shoplifter.

So the quarto and folio. . All the modern copies read one and fifty. “How else can the number make out Priam and his fifty sons ?” says Theobald. This is an exactness which Priam and his chroniclers would equally have spurned. The Margarelon of the romance-writers, who makes his appearance in Act V., is one of the additions to the old classical family. We leave the text as we find it.

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 such laughing! and Helen so blushed, and Paris so chafed, and all the

rest so laughed, that it passed a. CRES. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by. Pan. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; think on 't. CRES. So I do. Pan. I 'll be sworn 't is true; he will weep you, an 't were a man born in April. CREs. And I 'll spring up in his tears, an 't were 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 niece, 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.

Æneas passes over the Stage. CRES. Speak not so loud. Pan. That 's Æneas : Is not that a brave man? he 's one of the flowers of

Troy, I can tell you. But mark Troilus; you shall see anon. CRES. Who 's that?

ANTENOR passes over. Pan. That 's Antenor; he has a shrewd wit, I can tell you; and he's a man

good enough : he's one o' the soundest judgment in Troy, whosoever, and a proper man of person :—When comes Troilus ?-I 'll show


Troilus anon; if he see me, you shall see him nod at me. CRES. Will he give you the nod ? Pan. You shall see. CRES. If he do, the rich shall have more.

HECTOR passes over.

Pan. That 's Hector”, that, that, look you, that: there 's a fellow ! Go thy

way, Hector !—There 's a brave man, niece.–O brave Hector !-Look, how

he looks! there 's a countenance! Is 't not a brave man? CRES. O, a brave man! Pan. Is 'a not? It does a man's heart good -- Look you what hacks are on his

helmet! look you yonder, do you sce? look you there! there's no jesting:

there 's laying on; take 't off who will, as they say: there be hacks ! CREs. Be those with swords? Pan. Swords ? anything, he cares not: an the devil come to him, it 's all one:

a Passed-was excessive. So in “The Merry Wives of Windsor,'—“Why, this passes, master Ford.” Cressida retorts in the common acceptation of the word.

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