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The Cignets Downe is harsh, and spirit of Sense
Pan. I speake no more then truth.
Pan. Faith, Ile not meddle in't : Let her be as shee is, if she be faire, 'tis the better for her: and she be not, she ha's the mends in her owne hands.
Troy. Good Pandarus : How now Pandarus ?
Pan. I have had my Labour for my travell, ill thought on of her, and ill thought on of you ; Gone betweene and betweene, but small thankes for my labour.
Troy. What art thou angry Pandarus ? what with me?
Pan. Because she's Kinne to me, therefore shee's not so faire as Helen, and she were not kin to me, she would be as faire on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday. But what care 1? I care not and she were a Black-a Moore, 'tis all one to me.
Troy. Say I she is not faire ?
Pan. I doe not care whether you doe or no. Shee's a Foole to stay behinde her Father : Let her to the Greeks, and so Ile tell her the next time I see her : for my part, Ile meddle nor make no more i'th’matter.
Troy. Pandarus ?
Pan. Pray you speake no more to me, I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.
Exit Pand. Sound Alarum. Tro. Peace you ungracious Clamors, peace rude sounds, Fooles on both sides, Helen must needes be faire, When with your bloud you daily paint her thus. I cannot fight upon this Argument :
It is too starv'd a subject for my Sword,
Alarum. Enter Æneas.
Troy. Because not there ; this womans answer sorts,
Æne. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Troylus by Menelaus.
Alarum. Æne. Harke what good sport is out of Towne to day.
Troy. Better at home, if would I might were may:
Æne. In all swift hast.
Come goe wee then togither. Exeunt.
Enter Cressid and her man.
Queene Hecuba, and Hellen.
Up to the Easterne Tower,
Whose height commands as subject all the vaile,
What was his cause of anger ?
Good; and what of him?
Cre. So do all men, unlesse they are drunke, sicke, or have no legges.
Man. This man Lady, hath roi'd many beasts of their particular additions, he is as valiant as the Lyon, charlish as the Beare, slow as the Elephant: a man into whom nature hath so crowded humors, that his valour is crusht into folly, his folly sauced with discretion : there is no man hath a vertue, that he hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint, but he carries some staine of it. He is melancholy without cause, and merry against the haire, hee hath the joynts of every thing, but every thing so out of joynt, that hee is a gowtie Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblinded Argus, all eyes and no sight.
Cre. But how should this man that makes me smile, make Hedor angry?
Man. They say he yesterday cop'd He&or in the battell and stroke him downe, the disdaind & shame whereof, hath ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.
Enter Pandarus. Cre. Who comes here?
Pan. Good morrow Cozen Cressid : what do you talke of? good morrow Alexander: how do you Cozen? when were you at Illium ?
Cre. This morning Uncle.
Pan. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector arm’d and gon ere yea came to Illium? Hellen was not up? was she?
Cre. He&tor was gone but Hellen was not up?
Pan. True he was so ; I know the cause too, heele lay about him to day I can tell them that, and there's Troylus will not come farre behind him, let them take heede of Troylus; I can tell them that too.
Cre. What is he angry too?
Pan. Who Troylus ?
Cre. Oh Jupiter; there's no comparison.
Pan. What not betweene Troylus and Hedor ? do you know a man if you see him ?
Cre, I, if I ever saw him before and knew him.
say, For I am sure he is not Hector.
Pan. No nor Hector is not Troylus in some degrees.
Pan. Condition I had gone bare-foote to India.
Pan. Himselfe? no? hee's not himselfe, would a were himselfe: well, the Gods are above, time must friend or end : well Troylus well, I would my heart were in her body; no, He&or is not a better man then Troylus.
Cre. Excuse me.
Pan. Th’others not come too't, you shall tell me another tale when th’others come too't : He&tor shall not have his will this yeare.
Cre, He shall not neede it if he have his owne.
Pan. You have no judgement Neece ; Hellen her selfe swore th other day that Troylus for a browne favour (for so 'tis I must confesse) not browne neither.
Cre. No, but browne.
Cre. Then Troylus should have too much, if she prais'd him above, his complexion is higher then his, he having colour enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion, I had as lieve Hellens golden tongue had commended Troylus for a copper nose.
Pan. I sweare to you,
Cre. Then shee's a merry Greeke indeed.