Cres. At what was all this laughing? Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus' 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 Cres. What was his answer? [answer. Pan. Quoth she, 'Here's but two 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. '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 husband?' 'The forked one,' quoth he, 'pluck't out, and give it him.' But there was such laughing! and Helen so blushed, and Paris so chafed, and all the rest so laughed, that it passed. 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. 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 toward 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. Pan. That's Æneas: is not that a brave man? he's one of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you: but mark Troilus; you shall Cres. Who's that? Antenor passes. [see anon. Pan. That's Antenor: he has a shrewd wit, I can tell you; and he's a man good enough: he's one o' the soundest judgements in Troy, whosoever, and a proper man of person. When comes Troilus? I'll show you Troilus anon: if he see me, you shall see him nod at me. Cres. Will he give you the nod? Pan. You shall see. Cres. If he do, the rich shall have more. Hector passes. 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! 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! Cres. Be those with swords? 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. Paris passes. Look ye yonder, niece; is 't not a gallant man too, is 't not? Why, this is brave now. Who said he came hurt home today? 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. 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. Pan. Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus! there's a man, 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 hacked than Hector's; and how he looks, and how he goes! O admirable youth! he never 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. Common Soldiers pass. 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 VOL. III. 9 B 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 Pan. Achilles! a drayman, a porter, a very camel, [Troilus. 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. [lie. Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you Cres. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend my wiles; 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 hiding, and then it's past watching. Pan. You are such another! Enter Troilus's Boy. Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. Pan. Where? 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 will be with you, niece, by and by. Cres. To bring, uncle? Pan. Ay, a token from Troilus. Cres. By the same token, you are a bawd. [Exit Pandarus. Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, But more in Troilus thousand fold I see Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing: That she beloved knows nought that knows not this : That she was never yet that ever knew Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech, SCENE III [Exeunt. The Grecian camp. Before Agamemnon's tent. Sennet. Enter Agamemnon, Nestor, Ulysses, Menelaus, with others. Agam. Princes, What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks? In all designs begun on earth below Fails in the promised largeness: checks and disasters As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, That we come short of our suppose so far That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls stand; That gave 't surmised shape. Why then, you princes, Do you And call them shames? which are indeed nought else To find persistive constancy in men: The fineness of which metal is not found In fortune's love; for then the bold and coward, Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat, Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance Upon her patient breast, making their way But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage The gentle Thetis, and anon behold The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, Like Perseus' horse: where's then the saucy boat, Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, And flies fled under shade, why then the thing of courage As roused with rage with rage doth sympathize, And with an accent tuned in selfsame key Retorts to chiding fortune. Ulyss. Agamemnon, Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece, In whom the tempers and the minds of all [sway, The which, [To Agamemnon] most mighty for thy place and Should with a bond of air, strong as the axletree We shall hear music, wit and oracle. Ulyss. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, The specialty of rule hath been neglected: |