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TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.
PRIAM, King of Troy.
PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, his Sons.
AGAMEMNON, theGrecian General.
MENELAUS, his Brother.
ÆNEAS, ANTENOR, Trojan Commanders.
CALCHAS, a Trojan Priest, taking part with the Greeks.
PANDARUS, Uncle to Cressida.
MARGARELON, a bastard Son of HELEN, Wife to Menelaus.
THERSITES, a deformed and scurrilous Grecian.
ALEXANDER, Servant to Cressida.
SERVANT to Paris.
SERVANT to Diomedes.
ANDROMACHE, Wife to Hector.
Trojan and Greek SOLDIERS, and
SCENE.-Troy, and the Grecian Camp before it.
IN Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
With wanton Paris sleeps; And that's the quarrel.
And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
SCENE I-Troy. Before PRIAM'S Palace.
Tro. Call here my varlet,+ I'll unarm again:
Pan. Will this geer ne'er be mended?
Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,
Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding.
Tro. Have I not tarried?
Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
Pan. Ay, to the leavening: but here's yet in the word-hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance burn your lips.
Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
Doth lesser blench§ at sufferance than I do.
At Priam's royal table do I sit;
And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,
So, traitor!-when she comes!-When is she thence?
Pan. Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else.
*Avant, what went before.
+ Servant to a knight.
Tro. I was about to tell thee,-When my heart,
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
Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,―
Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
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; 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?
Pan. Because she is 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?
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 matter.
Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I
It is too starved a subject for my sword.
Alarum. Enter ENEAS.
Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield?
Ene. That Paris returned home, and hurt.
Ene. Troilus, by Menelaus.
Tro. Let Paris bleed; 'tis but a scar to scorn; Paris is gored with Menelaus' horn.
Ene. Hark! what good sport is out of town to-day!
Ene. In all swift haste.
SCENE II-The same. A Street.
Cres. Who were those went by?
Cres. What was his cause of anger?
Alex. The noise goes, this: There is among the Greeks
Cres. Good; And what of him?
Alex. They say he is a very man per se, And stands alone.
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 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.
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 and shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.
Cres. Who comes here ?
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.
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.
Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector?
Do you know a man if you see him?