24

Pan. An her hair were not fomewhat darker than Helen's-well, go to, there were no more comparison between the women. But, for my part, fhe is my kinfwoman; I would not (as they term it) praise herbut I would, fomebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did: I will not difpraise your fifter Caffandra's wit, but,

Troi. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus-
When I do tell thee, there my hopes lye drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep

They lye indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
In Creffid's love. Thou answer'ft, she is fair
Pour'ft in the open ulcer of my heart

Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gate, her voice;
Handleft in thy difcourfe-O that! her hand!
(In whofe comparison, all whites are ink
Writing their own reproach) to whose foft feizure
The cignet's down is harfh, 3 and (spite of sense)
Hard as the palm of ploughman. This thou tell'ft me;
(As, true thou tell'ft me;) when I fay, I love her :
I But faying thus, inftead of oil and balm,

Thou lay'ft, in every gash that love hath given me,
The knife that made it.

Pan. I fpeak no more than truth.

Troi. Thou doft not fpeak fo much.

Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as fhe is, if fhe be fair, 'tis the better for her; and fhe be not, fhe has the 'mends in her own hands. Troi. Good Pandarus; how now, Pandarus?

3

and SPIRIT of fenfe

Hard as the palm of ploughman.--] Read, and (SPITE of fenfe) in a parenthefis. The meaning is, tho' our feufes contradict it never fo much, yet the cigner's down is not only harsh, when compared to the foftness of Crefid's hand, but hard as the band of ploughman. Spite, I fuppote, was firit corrupted to Sprite, and from thence arofe fpirit.

4 fhe has the 'mends in her own hands.] i. e. fhe may paint and mend her complexion.

VOL. VII.

Bb

Pan.

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

Troi. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?

Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore fhe's not fo fair as Helen; and fhe were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not, an fhe were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.

Troi. Say I, fhe 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 fo I'll tell her the next time I fee her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more i'th' matter. Troi. Pandarus,

Pan. Not I.

Troi. Sweet Pandarus,

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there's an end. [Exit Pandarus. [Sound Alarum. Troi. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude

founds!

Fools on both fides.-Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus,
I cannot fight upon this argument,

It is too flarv'd a fubject for my fword:
But Pandarus-O Gods! how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Crefid, but by Pandar;
And he's as teachy to be woo'd to wooe,
As fhe is stubborn-chaft against all fute.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Creffid is, what Pandar, and what we :
Her bed is India, there fhe lyes, a pearl:
Between our Ilium, and where fhe refides,
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood;

Our

Our self the merchant, and this failing Pandar,
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

[Alarum.] Enter Æneas,

Ene. How now, Prince Troilus? wherefore not i'th' field?

Troi. Because not there; this woman's answer forts, For womanifh it is to be from thence:

What news, Æneas, from the field to day?

Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Troi. By whom, Æneas?

Ene. Troilus, by Menelaus.

Troi. Let Paris bleed, 'tis but a fcar to scorn:

Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.

[Alarum. Ene. Hark, what good fport is out of town to day? Troi. Better at home, if would I might, were may

But to the sport abroad

Ene. In all swift hafte.

-are you bound thither?

Enter Creffida, and her Servant.

Cre. W Ser. Queen Hecuba and Helen.

HO were those went by?

Cre. And whither go they?

Serv. Up to th' eastern tower,

Whose height commands as fubject all the vale,
To fee the fight. "Hector, whofe patience

6

Hector, whofe patience

Is,

Is, as A VIRTUE, fix'd,] Patience fure was a virtue,

Bb 2

and

372

Is, as the Virtue, fix'd, to day was mov'd:
He chid Andromache, and ftruck his armorer;
And like as there were husbandry in war,
7 Before the Sun rofe, he was harnest light,
And to the field goes he; where ev'ry flower
Did as a prophet weep what it forefaw,
In Hector's wrath.

Cre. What was his caufe of anger?

Ser. The noife goes thus; There is among the Greeks

and therefore cannot, in propriety of expreffion, be faid to be like We should read,

one.

Is as THE VIRTUE fix'd.

i. e. his patience is as fixed as the Goddess Patience itself. So we find Troilus a little before faying,

Patience herfelf what Goddefs ere she be,

Doth leffer blench at fufferance than I do.

It is remarkable that Dryden when he alter'd this play, and found this falle reading, alter'd it with judgment to,

whose patience

Is fix'd like that of Heav'n.

which he would not have done had he feen the right reading here given, where his thought is fo much better and nobler expreffed.

7 Before the Sun rofe, he was harneft light,] Does the poet mean (fays Mr. Theobald) that Hector had put on light armour? ! what elfe could he mean? He goes to fight on foot; and was not that the armour for his purpofe. So Fairfax in Tafi's Jerufalem,

mean

The other Princes put on harness LIGHT

As footmen ufe

Yet, as if this had been the higheft abfurdity, he goes on, Or does he mean that Hector was sprightly in his arms even before funrife? or is a conundrum aim'd at, in Sun rofe and harneft light? Was any thing like it? but to get out of this perplexity, he tells us that a very flight alteration makes all thefe conflructions unneceffary, and fo changes it to harness-dight. Yet indeed the very flightest alteration will at any time let the poet's fenfe thro' the critic's fingers: And the Oxford Editor very contentedly takes up with what is left behind, and reads harness-dight too, in order, as Mr. Theobald well expreffes it, To make all conftruction unneceffary.

A

A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector,
They call him Ajax.

Cre. Good; and what of him?

Ser. They fay, he is a very man per se, and stands alone.

Cre. So do all men, unless they are drunk, fick, or have no legs.

Ser. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beafts of their particular additions; he is as valiant as the lyon, churlish as the bear, flow as the elephant; a man into whom Nature hath fo crouded humours, 8 that his valour is crufted into folly, his folly fauced with discretion: there is no man hath a virtue, that he has not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, but he carries fome ftain of it. He is melancholy without caufe, and merry against the hair; he hath the joints of every thing, but every thing fo out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no ufe; or purblind Argus, all eyes and no fight.

Cre. But how fhould this man, that makes me fmile, make Hector angry?

Ser. They fay, he yesterday cop'd Hector in the battle and ftruck him down, the difdain and fhame whereof hath ever fince kept Heltor fafting and waking.

8 that his valour is CRUSH'r into folly, his folly fauced with difcretion:] Valour crusht into folly is nonfenfe; but it is of the first editor's making; who feeing crouded go before, concluded that crusht (which is oft indeed the confequence) must needs follow. He did not observe that the poet here employs a Kitchenmetaphor, which would have led him to the true reading, His valour is CRUSTED into folly, his fully fauced with difcretion. Thus is Ajax difhed up by the poet. The expreffion is humourous. His temper is reprefented as fo hot that his valour becomes overbaked, and fo is crafted or hardened into folly or temerity: yet the hardness of his folly is fauced or foftened with discretion, and fo made palatable.