Cre.
Who were those went by?

Ser.
Queen Hecuba and Helen.

Cre.
And whither go they?

Ser.
Up to th' eastern tower,
Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
To see the fight. Hector, whose patience
Is, as the Virtue, fix'd, to day was mov'd:(5) ^note



He chid Andromache, and struck his armorer;
And like as there were husbandry in war,
Before the Sun rose, he was harness-dight,(6) ^note

Cre.
What was his cause of anger?

Ser.
The noise goes thus; There is among the Greeks
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector,
They call him Ajax.

Cre.
Good; and what of him?

Ser.

They say, he is a very man per se, and stands alone.

Cre.

So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs.

Ser.

This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their particular additions; he is as valiant as the lyon, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant; a man into whom Nature hath so crouded humours, that his valour is crusht 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.

Cre.

But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector angry?

Ser.

They say, he yesterday cop'd Hector in the battle and struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.

Cre.

Who comes here?

Ser.

Madam, your uncle Pandarus.

Cre.

Hector's a gallant man.

Ser.

As may be in the world, lady.

Pan.

What's that? what's that?

Cre.

Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.

Pan.

Good morrow, cousin Cressid; what do you talk of?(7) ^note Good morrow, Alexander;—how do you, cousin? 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 she?

Cre.

Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.

Pan.

E'en so; Hector was stirring early.

Cre.

That were we talking of, and of his anger.

Pan.

Was he angry?

Cre.

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'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.

Oh, Jupiter! there's no comparison.

Pan.

What, not between Troilus and Hector? do you know a man, if you see him?

Cre.

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

Pan.

Well, I say, Troilus is Troilus.

Cre.

Then you say, as I say; for, I am sure, he is not Hector.

Pan.

No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees.

Cre.

'Tis just to each of them, he is himself.

Pan.

Himself? alas, poor Troilus! I would he were.

Cre.

So he is.

Pan.

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

Cre.

He is not Hector.

Pan.

Himself? no, he's not himself; would, he 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.

Excuse me.

Pan.

He is elder.

Cre.

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 this year.

Cre.

He shall not need it, if he have his own.

Pan.

Nor his Qualities.

Cre.

No matter.

Pan.

Nor his beauty.

Cre.

'Twou'd not become him, his own's better.

Pan.

You have no judgment, Neice; Helen her self swore th' other day, that Troilus for a brown favour, (for so 'tis, I must confess) not brown neither—

Cre.

No, but brown.

Pan.

Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.

Cre.

To say 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 should have too much; if she 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 nose.

Pan.

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

Cre.

Then she's a merry Greek, indeed.

Pan.

Nay, I am sure, she does. She came to him th' other day into the compass-window; and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.

Cre.

Indeed, a tapster's arithmetick 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.

Cre.

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.

Cre.

Juno, have mercy! how came it cloven?

Pan.

Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think, his smiling becomes him better, than any man in all Phrygia.

Cre.

Oh, he smiles valiantly.

Pan.

Does he not?

Cre.

O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.

Pan.

Why, go to then—but to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus,—

Cre.

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.

Cre.

If you love an addle egg, as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i'th' shell.

Pan.

I cannot chuse but laugh to think how she tickled his chin; indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess.

Cre.

Without the Rack.

Pan.

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

Cre.

Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.

Pan.

But there was such laughing. Queen Hecuba laught, that her eyes run o'er.

Cre.

With milstones.

Pan.

And Cassandra laught.

Cre.

But there was more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes; did her eyes run o'er too?

Pan.

And Hector laught.

Cre.

At what was all this laughing?

Pan.

Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus's chin.

Cre.

An't had been a green hair, I should have laught too.

Pan.

They laught not so much at the hair, as at his pretty answer.

Cre.

What was his answer?

Pan.

Quoth she, 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 question of that: one and fifty hairs,(8) ^note 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 blush'd, and Paris so chaft, and all the rest so laught, that it past.

Cre.

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.

Cre.

So I do.

Pan.

I'll be sworn, 'tis true; he will weep you, an 'twere a man born in April.

Cre.

And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle against May.

Pan.

Hark, they are coming from the field; shall we stand up here, and see them, as they pass towards Ilium?(9) ^note good neice, do; sweet neice Cressida.

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.

Æneas passes over the stage.

Cre.

Speak not so 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 shall see anon.

Cre.

Who's that?

Pan.

That's Antenor, he has a shrewd wit, I can tell you, and he's a man good enough; he's one o'th' soundest judgment in Troy whosoever, and a proper man of person; when comes Troilus? I'll shew you Troilus anon; if he see me, you shall see him nod at me.

Cre.

Will he give you the nod?

Pan.

You shall see.

Cre.

If he do, the rich shall have more.

Pan.

That's Hector, that, that, look you, that: there's a fellow! go thy way, Hector; there's a brave man, neice: O brave Hector! look, how he looks! there's a countenance! is't not a brave man?

Cre.

O brave man!

Pan.

Is he 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.

Cre.

Be those with swords?

Pan.

Swords, any thing, he cares not, an the devil come to him, it's all one; by godslid, it does one's heart good. Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris: look ye yonder, neice, is't not a gallant man too, is't not? why, this is brave now: who said, he came home hurt 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.

Cre.

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.

Cre.

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.

Cre.

What sneaking fellow comes yonder?

Pan.

Where! yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus! there's a man, neice—hem—brave Troilus! the prince of chivalry!

Cre.

Peace, for shame, peace.

Pan.

Mark him, note him: O brave Troilus! look well upon him, neice, 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 money to boot.

Cre.

Here come more.

Pan.

Asses, fools, dolts, chaff and bran, chaff and bran; porridge after meat. I could live and dye i'th' 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.

Cre.

There is among the Greeks Achilles, a better man than Troilus.

Pan.

Achilles? a dray-man, a porter, a very camel.

Cre.

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 so forth, the spice and salt, that seasons a man?

Cre.

Ay, a minc'd man; and then to be bak'd with no date in the pye, for then the man's date is out,—

Pan.

You are such another woman, one knows not at what ward you lye.

Cre.

Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my secresie, to defend mine honesty; my mask to defend my beauty, and you to defend all these; and at all these wards I lye, at a thousand watches.

Pan.

Say one of your watches.

Cre.

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 is past watching.

Pan.

You are such another.

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; I doubt, he be hurt. Fare ye well, good neice.

Cre.

Adieu, uncle.

Pan.

I'll be with you, neice, by and by.

Cre.

To bring, uncle—

Pan.

Ay, a token from Troilus.

Cre.
By the same token, you are a bawd. [Exit Pan.
Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice,
He offers in another's enterprize:
But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see,
Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be.
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing;
Things won are done; the soul's joy lyes in doing:
That She belov'd knows nought, that knows not this;
Men prize the thing ungain'd, more than it is.
That She was never yet, that ever knew
Love got, so sweet, as when Desire did sue:

Atchievement is Command; ungain'd, beseech.
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach;
That though my heart's content firm love doth bear,
Nothing of That shall from mine eyes appear. [Exit.

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