SCENE IV.
Enter Pandarus.

Cre. Who comes here?

Ser. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
Cre. Hector's a gallant man.

Ser. As may be in the world, lady.
Pan. What's that? what's that?

Cre. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.

Pan. Good morrow, coufin Creffid; what do you talk of? Good morrow, Alexander ;- how do you, coufin? when were you at Ilium?

Cre. This morning, uncle.

Pan. What were you talking of, when I came? was Hector arm'd and gone, ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up? was the?

Cre. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
Pan. E'en fo; Hector was ftirring early.

Cre. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
Pan. Was he angry?

Cre. So he fays, here.

Pan. True, he was fo; 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.

Cre. What is he angry too?

Pan. Who, Troilus?-Troilus is the better man of the two.

Cre. Oh, Jupiter! there's no comparison.

Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector? do you know a man, if you fee him?

Cre. Ay, if I ever faw him before, and knew him. Pan. Well, I fay, Troilus is Troilus.

Cre. Then you fay, as I fay; for, I am fure, he is not Hector.

9 Good morrow, Alexander ;] This is added in all the editions very abfurdly, Paris not being on the stage.

Mr. Pope.

Pan.

Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in fome degrees.
Cre. 'Tis juft to each of them, he is himself.
Pan. Himfelf? alas, poor Troilus! I'would, he were.
Cre. So he is.

Pan. 'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to India.
Cre. He is not Hector.

Pan. Himself? no, he's not himfelf; 'would, he 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.

Cre. Excufe me.
Pan. He is elder.

Cre. Pardon me, pardon me.

Pan. Th' other's not come to't; you fhall tell me another tale, when th' other's come to't: Hector fhall not have his wit this year.

Cre. He fhall not need it, if he have his own.
Pan. Nor his Qualities.

Cre. No matter.

Pan. Nor his beauty.

Cre. 'Twould not become him, his own's better. Pan. You have no judgment, Neice; Helen herself fwore th' other day, that Troilus for a brown favour, (for fo 'tis, I must confefs) not brown neither

Cre. No, but brown.

Pan. Faith, to fay truth, brown and not brown.
Cre. To fay the truth, true and not true.
Pan. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
Cre. Why, Paris hath colour enough.

Pan. So he has.

Cre. Then Troilus fhould have too much; if fhe prais'd 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 lieve Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose.

Pan. I fwear to you, I think, Helen loves him better than Paris.

Cre. Then she's a merry Greek, indeed.

Pan. Nay, I am fure, the does. She came to him th' other day into the compafs-window; and, you know, he has not paft three or four hairs on his chin. Cre. Indeed, a tapfter's arithmetick 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.

Cre. Is he fo young a man, and fo old a lifter ?Pan. But to prove to you that Helen loves him, fhe came and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin. Cre. 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.

Cre. Oh, he fmiles valiantly.

Pan. Does he not?

Cre. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.

Pan. Why, go to then-but to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus.

Cre. Troilus will ftand to the proof, if you'll prove it fo.

Pan. Troilus? why, he efteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg.

Cre. If you love an addle egg, as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i'th' fhell.

Pan. I cannot chufe but laugh to think how the tickled his chin; indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I muft needs confefs.

Cre. Without the Rack.

Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.

Cre. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.

Pan.

Pan. But there was fuch laughing. Queen Hecuba laught, that her eyes run o'er.

Cre. With milftones.

Pan. And Caffandra laught.

Cre. But there was more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes; did her eyes run o'er too? Pan. And Hector laught.

Cre. At what was all this laughing?

Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus's chin.

Cre. An't had been a green hair, I should have laught too.

Pan. They laught not fo much at the hair, as at his pretty answer.

Cre. What was his anfwer?

Pan. Quoth fhe, here's but one and fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white.

Cre. This is her question.

Pan. That's true, take no queftion of that: one and fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white; that white hair is my father, and all the reft are his fons. Jupiter! quoth fhe, which of these hairs is Paris, my husband? the forked one, quoth he, pluck it out and give it him: but there was fuch laughing, and Helen fo blufh'd, and Paris fo chaf'd, and all the rest so laught, that it past. Cre. So let it now, for it has been a great while going by.

Pan. Well, coufin, I told you a thing Yesterday; think on't.

Cre. So I do.

Pan. I'll be fworn, 'tis true; he will weep you, an 'twere a man born in April. [Sound a retreat. Cre. And I'll fpring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle against May.

Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field; fhall we ftand up here, and fee them, as they pass towards Ilium? good neice, do; fweet neice Creffida.

Cre.

Cre. 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 pafs by; but mark Troilus above the reft.

Eneas paffes over the ftage.

Cre. Speak not fo loud.

Pan. That's Eneas; is not that a brave man? he's one of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you; but mark Troilus, you fhall fee anon.

Cre. Who's that?

Antenor passes over the stage.

Pan. That's Antenor, he has a fhrewd wit, I can tell you, and he's a man good enough; he's one o'th' foundeft judgment in Troy whofoever, and a proper man of perfon; when comes Troilus? I'll fhew you Troilus anon; if he fee me, you fhall fee him nod at me. Cre. Will he give you the nod?

Pan. You fhall fee.

Cre. If he do,

the mich fhall have more.

Hector palles over.

Pan. That's Hector, that, that, look you, that: there's a fellow! go thy way, Hector; there's a brave man, neice: O brave Hector! look how he looks! there's a countenance! is't not a brave man ?

Cre. O brave man!

the RICH fhall have more. re.] To give one the nod, was a phrafe fignifying to give one a mark of folly. The reply turns upon this fenfe alluding to the expreffion give, and should be read thus,

The MICH hall have more.

i. e. much. He that has much folly already fhall then have more. This was a proverbial fpeech, implying that benefits fall upon the rich. The Oxford Editor alters it to,

The rest shall have none.

Pan.