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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 fo 'tis, I must confess) nor 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 coloạr enough.
Pan. So he has.

Cre. Then Troilus fhould 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.

Pan. Why, he is very young; and yet will he within three pound lift as much as his brother Heator.

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 'cwere 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 fo.

Pan. Troilus? why he esteems her no more than 1 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' fhell.

Pan. I cannot chuse but laugh to think how the tickled his chin ; indeed, she has a inarvellous white hand, I must needs confefs.

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 milftones.
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.

Crea

Cre. What was his answer ?

Pan. Quoth the, 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) quoth he, and one white ; that white hair is my father, and all the rest are his fons. 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 fo 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 'cwere a man born in April.

[Sound a retreat. Cre. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle againft May.

Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field; shall we stand up here, and see them, as they pass towards Ilium ? (9) 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,

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(8) Two and fifty hairs, quoth he, and one wbite ; that white Hair is my Father, and all the rest are bis Sons.] The Copyists must have err'd here in the Number; and I have ventur'd to substitute one and fifty, I think, with some Certainty. How else can the Number make out Priam, and his fifty Sons ?

(9) Hark, they are coming from the field; shall we ftand up here and see them, as they pass towards Ilium 1) This Conduct of the Poet, in making Pandarus decypher the Warriors as they pass, seems an Imitatation of Homer's Helen on the Walls, where she shews the Greeks to Priam. This Incident was bórrow'd by Euripides, in his Phænilla ; and again copied by Statius, in the oth Book of his Thebais, where he makes Phorbas fhew to Antigone the Chiefs of the Theban Army. Vol. VII, B

Æneas

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 Aowers of Troy, I can tell you ; but mark Troilus, you shall see anon.

Cre. Who's that?

Antenor passes over the stage. 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.

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, 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?

Paris pases over. 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 heaft good now, ha ? would, I could see Troilus now; you shall fee Troilus anon. Cre. Who's that?

Helenus

Helenus passes over. Pan. That's Helenus. I marvel, where Troilus is : that's Helenus — think, he went not forth to days that's Helenus.

Cre. Can Helenus fight, uncle?

Pan. Helenus, no-yes, he'll fight indifferent wellI marvel, where Troilus is ? hark, do you not hear the people cry Troilus? Helenus is a priest. Cre. What sneaking fellow comes yonder?

Troilus passes over. 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 fifter 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.

Enter common Soldiers.
Cre. Here come more.

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

B 2

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