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 [45 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 50 Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; 65 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, 't is 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 travail; ill-thought 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? 75 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; 't is all one to me. 80 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 me! 100 I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar, Ene. How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not afield? Tro. Because not there. This woman's an swer sorts, 119 For womanish it is to be from thence. Ene. scorn; Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum. 115 Ene. Hark, what good sport is out of town to-day! Tro. Better at home, if "would I might " were may." 66 But to the sport abroad. Are you bound thither? Ene. In all swift haste. Come, go we then together. [Exeunt. [SCENE II. The same. A street.] Enter CRESSIDA and her man [ALEXANDER]. 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 Is as a virtue fix'd, to-day was mov'd. He chid Andromache and struck his armorer, And, like as there were husbandry in war, Before the sun rose he was harness'd light, And to the field goes he, where every flower Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw In Hector's wrath. Cres. So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs. Alex. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their particular additions: he is as [20 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 crush'd 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 [25 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 purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight. 31 Cres. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector angry? Aler. They say he yesterday cop'd 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. 37 40 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. 46 Cres. Then Troilus should have too much. If she 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 lief Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose. 115 Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him better than Paris. Cres. Then she's a merry Greek indeed. 118 Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him the other day into the compass'd window, and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin, Cres. Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his particulars therein to a total. 124 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? 129 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? แ 173 Pan. That's true; make no question of that. "Two 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 hus- [177 band?" "The forked one," quoth he, "pluck 't out, and give it him." But there was such laughing! and Helen so blush'd, and Paris so chaf'd, and all the rest so laugh'd, that it pass'd. 182 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. 186 Pan. I'll be sworn 't is true; he will weep you, an 't were a man born in April. [Sound a retreat. Cres. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 't were a nettle against May. 191 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. 195 Pan. That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; there's a fellow! Go thy way, Hec- [18 tor! There's a brave man, niece. O brave Hector! Look how he looks! There's a countenance! Is 't not 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 see? Look you there; there's no jesting; [there's] laying on, take 't off who will, as they say. There be hacks! s Cres. Be those with swords? Paris passes. Pan. Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil come to him, it's all one. By God's lid, it does one's heart good. Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris. Look ye yonder, [:30 niece; is 't not a gallant man too, is 't not? Why, this is brave now. Who said he came hurt home to-day? He's not hurt. Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! Would I could see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon. Cres. Who's that? Helenus passes. 234 250 Cres. Peace, for shame, peace! Pan. Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon him, niece. Look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hack'd than Hector's, and how he looks, and how he goes! O admirable youth! he ne'er saw three and twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy [255 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 money to boot. Common Soldiers pass. Cres. Here come more. 260 Pan. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran! porridge after meat! I could live and die i' the eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look; the eagles are gone; crows and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and all Greece. 267 Cres. There is among the Greeks Achilles, a better man than Troilus. Pan. Achilles ! a drayman, a porter, a very camel. Cres. Well, well. 271 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, gentle- [275 ness, virtue, youth, liberality, and so forth, the spice and salt that season a man? Cres. Ay, a mine'd man; and then to be bak'd with no date in the pie, for then the man's date's out. 281 Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd, stand; 10 15 Sith every action that hath gone before, Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works, And think them shame? which are indeed nought else 20 But the protractive trials of great Jove **30 Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat, Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply smooth, How many shallow bauble boats dare sail 35 Then everything includes itself in power, So doubly seconded with will and power, 125 1.38 And this neglection of degree is it The fever whereof all our power is sick. 144 |