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But sorrow, that is crouch'd in seeming gladness,
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. 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-
When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd,
The knife that made it.
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 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? 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; '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 Tro. Sweet Pandarus,Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.
make no more i' the matter. Tro. Pandarus, Pan. Not I.
[Exit. An alarum. Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours ! peace, rude sounds
Fools on both sides ! Helen must needs be fair,
Alarum. Enter Æneas.
For womanish it is to be from thence.
What news, Æneas, from the field to-day?
Troilus, by Menelaus.
[Alarum. Æne. Hark, what good sport is out of town to-day! Tro. Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.'
But to the sport abroad : are you bound thither?
Come, go we then together. (Exeunt.
The same. A street.
Enter Cressida and Alexander her man.
Queen Hecuba and Helen.
Up to the eastern tower,
He chid Andromache and struck his armourer;
In Hector's wrath.
What was his cause of anger?
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
They call him Ajax. 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 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. Cres. Hector 's a gallant man. 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. Pan. What were you talking of when I came ? Was Hector
armed and gone ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she?
Cres. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
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's 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? Cres. Ay, if I ever 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. Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees. Cres. 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.
Pan. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus ! I would he were. Cres. So he is. Pan. Condition, I had gone barefoot to India. Cres. He is not Hector. Pan. Himself ! no, he's not himself: would a' were himself !
Well, the gods are above ; time must friend or end : well, Troilus, well, I would my heart were in her body i No,
Hector is not a better man than Troilus. Cres. Excuse me. Pan. He is elder. Cres. Pardon me, pardon me. Pan. Th' other's not come to 't; you shall tell me another tale,
when th' other's come to 't. Hector shall not have his wit
Cres. He shall not need it, if he have his own.
other day, that Troilus, for a brown favour—for so ʼtis, I must
confess,-not brown neither -
Cres. Why, Paris hath colour enough.
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. Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him better than Cres. Then she's a merry Greek indeed.
[Paris. Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th other
day into the compassed 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 par
ticulars 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 Helen 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 his smiling be
comes him better than any man in all Phrygia.
' Pan. Troilus! why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an
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 more temperate fire under the pot of her
eyes : did her eyes run o'er too? Pan. And Hector laughed.