Less valiant than the virgin in the night, Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding. Tro. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting. Tro. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening. Tro. Still have I tarried. Pan. Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word—hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, Doth lesser blench1at sufferance than I do. At Priam's royal table do I sit; And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,- Tro. I was about to tell thee,-When my heart, But sorrow, that is couched in seeming gladness, 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 1 To blench is to shrink, start, or fly off. Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus, When I do tell thee, There my hopes lie drowned, They lie indrenched. I tell thee, I am mad Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me Pan. I speak no more than truth. Tro. Thou dost not speak so much. Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is; if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.3 Tro. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus? Pan. I have had my labor for my travel; ill thought on of her, and ill thought on of you; gone between and between, but small thanks for my labor. Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me? Pan. Because she is 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-amoor; 'tis all one to me. Tro. Say I, she is not fair? 1 Handlest is here used metaphorically, with an allusion, at the same time, to its literal meaning. 2 Warburton rashly altered this to ". spite of sense."-Hanmer reads:" to th' spirit of sense;" which is considered right and necessary by Mason. It appears to mean "The spirit of sense (i. e. the most fine or exquisite sense of touch,) is harsh and hard as the palm of a ploughman, compared to the sensation of softness in pressing Cressid's hand." 3 The remedy lies with herself." 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 make no more in the matter. Tro. Pandarus, Pan. Not I. Tro. Sweet Pandarus, Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end. [Exit PANDARUs. An alarum. Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamors! peace, rude sounds! Fools on both sides!-Helen must needs be fair, It is too starved a subject for my sword. But, Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me! 1 Calchas, according to the Old Troy Book, was "a great, learned bishop of Troy," who was sent by Priam to consult the oracle of Delphi concerning the event of the war which threatened Agamemnon. As soon as he had made "his oblations and demands for them of Troy, Apollo aunswered unto him saying, Calchas, Calchas, beware thou returne not back againe to Troy, but goe thou with Achylles unto the Greekes, and depart never from them, for the Greekes shall have victorie of the Trojans, by the agreement of the gods."-Hist. of the Destruction of Troy, translated by Caxton, ed. 1617. The prudent bishop immediately joined the Greeks. 2 Ilium, properly speaking, is the name of the city; Troy, that of the country. But Shakspeare, following the Troy Book, gives that name to Priam's palace, said to have been built upon a high rock. Alarum. Enter ENEAS. Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield? Tro. Because not there. This woman's answer sorts,1 For womanish it is to be from thence. What news, Æneas, from the field to-day? Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt. Ene. Troilus, by Menelaus. Tro. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn; Paris is gored with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum. Ene. 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? Ene. In all swift haste. Tro. Come, go we then together. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. A Street. Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXANDER. Queen Hecuba and Helen. Cres. Who were those went by? Cres. And whither go they? Alex. Up to the eastern tower, Whose height commands as subject all the vale, 1 i. e. fits, suits. 2 Light and lightly are often used for nimbly, quickly, readily, by our old writers. No expression is more common than "light of foot." And Shakspeare has even used "light of ear." Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw Cres. What was his cause of anger? Alex. The noise goes, this :-There is among the Greeks 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,1 And stands alone. Cres. So do all men; unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs. 2 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 humors that his valor 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;3 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. 1 i. e. an extraordinary or incomparable person, like the letter A by itself. Thus in Henrysoun's Testament of Cresseid, wrongly attributed by Steevens to Chaucer: "Of faire Cresseide, the floure and a per se of Troy and Greece." 2 Their titles, marks of distinction or denominations. 3 Equivalent to a phrase still in use-against the grain. The French say, à contre poil. |