Cre. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.

Pan. Good morrow, coufin Creffid: What do you talk of?-Good morrow, Alexander.-How do you, coufin? When were you at Ilium?

Cre. This morning, uncle.

Pan. What were you talking of, when I came ?
Was Hector arm'd, and gone, ere ye came to Ilium?
Helen was not up, was he?

Cre. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
Pan. E'en fo; Hector was stirring early.

Cre. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
Pan. Was he angry?

Cre. So he fays here.

Pan. True, he was fo; I know the caufe 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.

Cre. What, is he angry too?

Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the

two.

Cre. O, Jupiter! there's no comparison.

Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man, if you fee him?

Cre. Ay; if I ever saw him before, and knew him.

Pan. Well, I fay, Troilus is Troilus.

Cre. Then you fay as I fay; for, I am fure, he is not Hector.

Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in fome degrees. Cre. 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.

Pan. Himfelf? Alas, poor Troilus! I would, he

were,

Cre. So he is.

Pan. 'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to India.

2-Condition, I bad gone]-If fo, then have I gone.

Cre.

Cre. He is not Hector.

Pan. Himfelf? 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! No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.

Cre. Excufe me.

Pan. He is elder.

Cre. Pardon me, pardon me.

Pan. The other's not come to't; you fhall tell me another tale, when the other's come to't. Hector shall not have his wit this year.

Cre. He fhall not need it, if he have his own.
Pan. Nor his qualities.

Cre. No matter.

Pan. Nor his beauty.

Cre. 'Twould not become him, his own's better.

Pan. You have no judgment, niece: Helen herself fwore the other day, that Troilus, for a brown favour, (for fo 'tis, I must confess)-Not brown neither.

Cre. No, but brown.

Pan. 'Faith, to fay truth, brown and not brown.
Cre. To fay the truth, true and not true.

Pan. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
Cre. Why, Paris hath colour enough.

Pan. So he has.

Cre. Then, Troilus fhould have too much: if the prais'd him 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 lieve, Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nofe.

Pan. I fwear to you, I think, Helen loves him better than Paris.

Cre.

Cre. Then fhe's a merry Greek, indeed.

Pan. Nay, I am fure fhe does. She came to him the other day into the compafs'd window,-and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.

Cre. Indeed, a tapfter's arithmetic may foon 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.

Cre. Is he fo young a man, and fo old a lifter?

Pan. But, to prove to you that Helen loves him ;fhe came, and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin,

Cre. Juno have mercy!-How came it cloven?

Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled: I think, his fmiling becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia. Cre. O, he fmiles valiantly.

Pan. Does he not?

Cre. O, yes;

dan 'twere a cloud in autumn.

Pan. Why, go to then :-But, to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus,

Cre. Troilus will ftand to the proof, if you'll prove

it fo.

Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg.

Cre. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i' the fhell.

Pan. I cannot chufe but laugh, to think how fhe tickled his chin;-Indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I muft needs confefs.

Cre. Without the rack.

Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.

a merry Greek]-a wanton lafs.
compass'd window]-bow-window.
an 'twere]-as if it were, juft like.

a lifter]-a thief.

Cre.

14

TROIL

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

Cre. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.

Pan. But, there was fuch laughing;-Queen Hecuba laugh'd, that her eyes ran o'er.

Cre. With mill-ftones.

Pan. And Caffandra laugh'd.

Cre. But there was more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes ;-Did her eyes run o'er too? Pan. And Hector laugh'd.

Cre. At what was all this laughing?

Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen fpied on Troilus' chin.

too.

Cre. An't had been a green hair, I should have laugh'd

Pan. They laugh'd not fo much at the hair, as at his pretty answer.

Cre. What was his anfwer?

Pan. Quoth fhe, Here's but one and fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white.

Cre. This is her question.

Pan. That's true; make no queftion of that. One and fifty bairs, quoth he, and one white: That white hair is my father, and all the rest are his fons. Jupiter! quoth fhe, which of these hairs is Paris, my husband? The forked one, quoth he; pluck it out, and give it him. But, there was fuch laughing! and Helen fo blush'd, and Paris fo chaf'd, and all the reft fo laugh'd, that it pass'd.

Cre. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by.

Pan. Well, coufin, I told you a thing yefterday; think

on't.

Cre. So I do.

Pan. I'll be fworn, 'tis true; he will weep you, an 'twere a man born in April. [Sound a retreat. Cre. And I'll fpring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle against May.

Pàn.

Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field: Shall we stand up here, and see them, as they pass toward Ilium ? good niece, do; fweet niece Creffida.

Cre. 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 paffes over the stage.

Cre. Speak not fo loud.

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 fhall fee him anon.

Cre. Who's that?

Antenor paffes over.

Pan. That's Antenor; he has a fhrewd wit, I can tell you; and he's a man good enough: he's one o' the foundeft judgment in Troy, whofoever; and a proper man of perfon:-When comes Troilus ?-I'll fhew you Troilus anon; if he fee me, you shall see him nod at me.

Cre. Will he give you the nod?

Pan. You fhall fee.

e

Cre. If he do, the rich fhall have more.

Hector paffes over.

Pan. That's Hector, that, that, look 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 ? Cre. O, a brave man!

Pan. Is'a not? It does a man's heart good-Look

the rich shall have more.]-you'll have more nods, be a greater neddy than you are at prefent-perhaps alluding to the game at cards called Noddy.

you,