PROLOGUE. In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of The princes orgulous, their high blood chaf'd, And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are; SCENE I.-Troy. Before Priam's Palace. Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS. Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their SCENE 2.] TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,- Pan. Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else. 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 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,- me, As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her; Pan. I speak no more than truth. 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,— Tro. Sweet Pandarus, Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit. Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not Troilus, by Menelaus. day! Tro. Come, go we then together. [Exeunt. Queen Hecuba, and Helen. Greeks A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector; Cres. 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. 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. Enter PANDARUS. Cres. Who comes here? Alex. Madam, your 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. 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 Cres. What, is he angry too? [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? Cres. Ay; if ever I saw him before, and knew him. Pan. Well, I say, Troilus is Troilus. Cres. Then you say as I say; for, I am sure, he is not Hector. [degrees. Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some Cres. "Tis just to each of them; he is himself. Pan. Himself? Alas, poor Troilus! I would, he Pan. 'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown. 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 apraise for a good complexion. I had as lief, Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose. Pan. I swear to you, I think, Helen loves him better than Paris. Cres. Then she's a merry Greek, indeed. Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him the other day into a 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. 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? Pan. But, to prove to you, that Heleu loves him; --she came, and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin, Cres. Juno have mercy!-How came it cloven? Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled: I think, bis smiling becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia. Cres. O, he smiles valiantly. Pan. Does he not? Cres. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn. Pan. Why, go to then :-But to prove to you, that Helen loves Troilus, Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so. Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg. Cres. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i'the shell. Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled his chin;-Indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess. Cres. Without the rack. Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin. Cres. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer. Pan. But, there was such laughing;-Queen Hecuba laughed, that her eyes ran o'er. Cres. With mill-stones. Pan. And Cassandra laughed. Cres. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes;-Did her eyes run o'er too? Pan. And Hector laughed. Cres. At what was all this laughing? Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus's chin. Cres. An't had been a green hair, I should have laughed too. Pan. They laughed not so much at the hair, as at his pretty answer. 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 it out, and give it him. But, there was such laughing! and Helen so blushed, and Paris so chafed, and all the rest so laugh'd, that it pass'd. Cres. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by. [think on't. Pan. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; 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 towards Ilium? good niece, do; sweet niece Cressida. Cres. 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 pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest. ENEAS passes over the Stage. Cres. Speak not so 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 shall see anon. Cres. Who's that? Pan. You shall see. Cres. If he do, the rich shall have more. HECTOR passes over. Pan. That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; There's a fellow!-Go thy way, Hector;-There's a brave man, niece.-O brave Hector!-Look, how he looks! there's a countenance: Is't not a brave man! Cres. O, a brave man! my wit, to defend my wiles; and 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. Cres. Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the chiefest of them too: if I cannot ward what I would not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless it swell past hidPan. You are such another! Pan. Is a not? It does a man's heart good-ing, and then it is past watching. 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! Čres. Be those with swords? PARIS passes over. Pan. Swords? any thing, 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 youder, 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 over. Pan. That's Helenus,-I marvel, where Troilus is: That's Helenus;--I think he went not forth to-day :-That's Helenus. Cres. Can Helenus fight, uncle? Pan. Helenus? no;-yes, he'll fight indifferent well:-I marvel, where Troilus is!-Hark; do you not hear the people cry, Troilus?-Helenus is a priest. Cres. What sneaking fellow comes yonder? TROILUS passes over. Pan. Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus: 'Tis Troilus! there's a mau, niece! - Hem!-Brave Troilus! the prince of chivalry. 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 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. Forces pass over the Stage. Cres. Here come more. 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. Cres. There is among the Greeks, Achilles; a better man than Troilus. Pan. Achilles? a drayman, a porter, a very camel. Cres. Well, well. 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 such like, the spice and salt that season a man? Cres. Ay, a minced man; and then to be baked with no date in the pie,-for then the man's date is out. Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you lie. Cres. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon Enter Troilus' Boy. Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. Boy. At your own house; there he unarms him. Pan. Good boy, tell him I come : Exit Boy. I doubt, he be hurt.-Fare ye well, good niece. Cres. Adieu, uncle. Pan. I'll be with you, niece, by and by. Pan. Ay, a token from Troilus. But more in Troilus thousand fold I see Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is: non's Tent. Trumpets. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, MENELAUS, and others. Agam. Princes, What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks? But the protractive trials of great Jove, The fineness of which metal is not found Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat, Upon her patient breast, making their way But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize, Ulyss. Agamemnon,- That matter needless, of importless burden, Ulyss. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master, But for these instances. The specialty of rule hath been neglected: And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets So doubly seconded with will and power, And this neglection of degree it is, That by a pace goes back ward, with a purpose And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot, Nest. Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd The fever, whereof all our power is sick. Agam. The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses, What is the remedy? Ulyss. The great Achilles,-whom opinion crowns Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent And with ridiculous and aukward action That's done;-as near as the extremest ends And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age Nest. And in the imitation of these twain |