CALCHAS, a Trojan Priest, taking part with the Greeks. PANDARUS, Uncle to Cressida. AGAMEMNON, the Grecian General. MENELAUS, his Brother. ACHILLES, AJAX, ULYSSES, Grecian Commanders. NESTOR, PA Grecian Commanders. THERSITES, a deformed and scurrilous Gre cian. ALEXANDER, Servant to Cressida. Servant to Troilus. Servant to Diomedes. HELEN, Wife to Menelaus. ANDROMACHE, Wife to Hector. CASSANDRA, Daughter to Priam; a prophetess. CRESSIDA, Daughter to Calchas. Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants. SCENE.-Troy, and the Grecian Camp before it. mures 8 The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen, To Tenedos they come, SCENE I.-Troy. Before PRIAM's Palace. Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS. Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness But I am weaker than a woman's tear, 8 12 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 Pandarus! 72 Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry hands. the leavening. Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. Pan. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's,-well, go to,—there were no more comparison between the women: but, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it, praise her, but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did: I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit, but 49 52 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, 57 In whose comparison all whites are ink, Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense Hard as the palm of ploughman: this thou tell'st me, 61 As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her; But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm, Tro. Good Pandarus, how now, Pan. I have had my labour for my travail; ill-thought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone between, and between, but small thanks for my labour. 76 Tro. What! art thou angry, Pandarus? what! with me? Pan. Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair as Helen: an she 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 she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me. Tro. Say I she is not fair? 83 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 i' the matter. Tro. Pandarus,— Pan. Not I. Tro. Sweet Pandarus,— 88 97 100 Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, Ene. How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not afield? Tro, Because not there: this woman's answer sorts, For womanish it is to be from thence. 112 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 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. 31 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 60 Cres. What! is he angry too? Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two. Cres. O Jupiter! there's no comparison. 64 Pan. What! not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man if you see him? Cres. Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him. 68 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. 73 Cres. 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself. Pan. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus, I would he were. Cres. So he is. 76 Pan. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown. Cres. To say the truth, true and not true. 104 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. 113 Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him better than Paris. Cres. Then she's a merry Greek indeed. 116 Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other day into the compassed window, and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin,120 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. 125 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. 165 Pan. They laughed not so much at the hair as at his pretty answer. 168 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't 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. 180 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. 184 Cres. So I do. Pan. I'll be sworn 'tis true: he will weep you, an 'twere a man born 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 niece, do; sweet niece, Cressida. Cres. At your pleasure. 193 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. Speak not so loud. ENEAS passes over the stage. 197 Pan. That's neas: 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. 201 ANTENOR passes over. Cres. Who's that? 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 judgments in Troy, whosoever, and a proper man of person. When comes Troilus? I'll show you Troilus anon: if he see me, you shall see him nod at me. 208 Cres. Will he give you the nod? Pan. You shall see. Cres. If he do, the rich shall have more. sword is bloodied, and his helmet more hacked than Hector's; and how he looks, and how he goes! O admirable youth! he ne'er saw threeand-twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way! Had I a sister 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. Cres. Here come more. Soldiers pass over. 259 Pan. 'Well, well!' Why, have you any discretion? have you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and so forth, the spice and salt that season a man? 276 Cres. Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked with no date in the pie, for then the man's date's out. Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you lie. 281 Cres. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to 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. 288 |