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talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but

Tro. O Pandarus ! I tell thee, Pandarus,
When I do tell thee, There my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
They lie indrench’d. I tell thee, I am mad
In Cressid's love: Thou answer'st, She is fair ;
Pour'st in the

open
ulcer of

my

heart
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice;
Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,
In whose comparison all whites are ink,
Writing their own reproach ; To whose soft seisure
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughmen! This thou tell'st me,
As true thou tellist me, when I say I love her ;
But, saying, thus, instead of oil and balm,
Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.

Pan. I speak no more than truth.
Tro. Thou dost not speak so much.

Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is :. if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.

Tro. Good Pandarus ! How now, Pandarus ?

Pan. I have had my labour for my travel ; illthought on of her, and ill-thought on of you : gone between and between, but small thanks for my

labour. Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus ? what, with:

me? · Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore, she's not so fair as Helen : an she were not kin to me, she

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would be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not, an she were a black-amoor ; 'tis all one to me.

Tro. Say I, she is not fair ?

Pan, I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father ; let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the mattter.

Tro. Pandarus,
Pan. Not I.
Tro. Sweet Pandarus,

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.

[Exit PANDARUS. 'An Alarum. Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours ! peace, rude

sounds!
Fools on both sides ! Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;
It is too starv'd a subject for my

sword.
But Pandarus--O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid, but by Pandar;
And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to wco,
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
Her bed is India ; there she lies, a pearl :
Between our Ilium, and where she resides,
Let it be call’d the wild and wandering flood;
Ourself, the merchant; and this sailing Pandar,
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

I

Alarum. Enter ÆNEAS. 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?
Æne.

Troilus, by Menelaus. Tro. Let Paris bleed : 'tis but a scar to scorn; Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum.

Æne. Hark! what good sport is out of town to-day!

Tro. Better at home, if would I might, were may.But, to the sport abroad ;--Are you bound thither?

Æne. In all swift haste.
Tro.

Come, go we then together.

[Ereunt.

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Cres. Who were those went by ?
Alex.

Queen Hecuba, and Helen.
Cres. And whither go they?
Alex.

Up to the eastern tower, Whose height commands as subject all the vale, To see the battle. Hector, whose patience

1 Suits.

he;

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

goes

where
every

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?
Aler. They say he is a very man per se, 2
And stands alone.

Cres. So do all men ; unless they are drunk, sick, ot have no legs.

Aler. 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 crouded humours, that his valour is crushed 4 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 :5 He hath the joints of every thing; but every thing so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight.

Cres. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector angry?

2 By himself.

3 Characters.

4 Mingled.

5 Grain.

Aler. 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.

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 is 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.

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