TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. PROLOGUE. 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 b Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, a Orgulous-proud-the French orgueilleux. Fulfilling. The verb fulfil is here used in the original sense of fill full. C Sperr up. The original has stirre up, but we prefer the alteration. The relative positions of each force are contrasted. The Greeks pitch their pavilions on Dardan plains; the Trojans are shut up in their six-gated city. Sperr is used in the sense of to fasten, by Spenser and earlier writers. A prologue arm'd,a-but not in confidence To tell you, fair beholders, that our play b Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils, Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are; a Arm'd. Johnson has pointed out that the Prologue was spoken by one of the characters in armour. This was noticed, because in general the speaker of the Prologue wore a black cloak. ACT I. SCENE I-Troy. Before Priam's Palace. Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS. Tro. Call here my varlet, I'll unarm again: Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength, Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant; Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part I'll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding. Tro. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the grinding: but you must tarry the bolting. Tro. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the bolting: but you must tarry the leavening. Tro. Still have I tarried. 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 a Varlet-a servant. Tooke considers that varlet and valet are the same; and that, as well as harlot, they mean hireling. stay the cooling too, or you may chance to 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,- Tro. I was about to tell thee,-When my heart, But sorrow that is couch'd in seeming gladness 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 kins woman; 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,- They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; Writing their own reproach; a to whose soft seizure a We do not receive this passage as an interjection beginning "O! that her hand;" for what does Troilus desire?-the wish is incomplete. The meaning we conceive to be rather,―in thy discourse thou handlest that hand of hers, in whose comparison, &c. The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense a 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 '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 travel; illthought 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; 't is 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. Tro. Pandarus, Pan. Not I. Tro. Sweet Pandarus, Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end. [Exit PANDARUS. An alarum. Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds! Johnson explains spirit of sense as the most exquisite sensibility of touch. |