Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus' chin. Cres. An't had been a green hair, I should have laughed too. Pan. They laughed not so much at the hair, as at his pretty answer. Cres. What was his answer? Pan. Quoth she, Here's but one-and-fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white. Cres. This is her question. Pan. That's true; make no question of that. One-andfifty hairs, 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 blushed, and Paris so chafed, and all the rest so laughed, that it passed. Cres. 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. Cres. So I do. Pan. I'll be sworn, 'tis true; he will weep you, an 'twere a man born in April. Cres. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle against May. [A retreat sounded. Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field. Shall we stand up here, and see them, as they pass toward Ilium? Good niece, do; sweet niece Cressida. Cres. 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 passes over the stage. Cres. 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. Cres. Who's that? ANTENOR passes over. Pan. That's Antenor: he has a shrewd wit, I can tell you; and he's a man good enough; he's one o' the soundest judgments in Troy, whosoever, and a proper man of person. -When comes Troilus?—I'll show you Troilus anon; if he see me, you shall see him nod at me. Cres. Will he give you the nod? Pan. You shall see. Cres. 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, niece. O brave Hector!-Look, how he looks! there's a countenance. Is't not a brave man? Cres. O, a brave man! Pan. Is 'a 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! Cres. Be those with swords? PARIS passes over. Pan. Swords? Any thing, he cares not; an the devil come to him, it's all one. By God's lid, it does one's heart good.-Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris: look ye yonder, niece; is't not a gallant man too, is't not?-Why, this is brave now.-Who said, he came hurt home 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. Cres. 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. Helenus. Cres. Can Helenus fight, uncle? That's 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. Cres. What sneaking fellow comes yonder? TROILUS passes over. Pan. Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus! there's a man, niece! Hem!-Brave Troilus! the prince of chivalry! Cres. Peace, for shame, peace! Pan. Mark him; note him:-O brave Troilus-look well upon him, niece; look you, how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hacked than Hector's; and how he looks, and how he goes! - O admirable youth! he ne'er saw threeand-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 an eye to boot. Forces pass over the stage. Cres. Here come more. Pan. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran! porridge after meat! I could live and die i' the 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. Cres. There is among the Greeks, Achilles; a better man than Troilus. Pan. Achilles? a drayman, a porter, a very camel. 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 such like, the spice and salt that season a man? Cres. Ay, a minced man; and then to be baked with no date in the pie,- for then the man's date is out. Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you lie. Cres. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my mask, to defend my beauty; and you, to defend all these; and at all these wards I lie, at a thousand watches. Pan. Say one of your watches. Cres. 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! Enter TROILUS' Boy. Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. Boy. At your own house; there he unarms him. [Exit Boy. I doubt he be hurt.-Fare ye well, good niece. Pan. I'll be with you, niece, by and by. Pan. Ay, a token from Troilus. Cres. By the same token-you are a bawd.— [Exit PANDARUS. Words, vows, griefs, tears, and love's full sacrifice, He offers in another's enterprise: But more in Troilus thousand fold I see Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be; [Exit. SCENE III. The Grecian Camp. Before Agamemnon's Tent. Trumpets. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, MENELAUS, and others. Agam. Princes, What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks? In all designs begun on earth below, Fails in the promised largeness; checks and disasters As knots, by the conflúx of meeting sap, That, after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls stand; That gave't surmised shape. Why, then, you princes, In fortune's love; for then, the bold and coward, Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat, Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance Lies the true proof of men. The sea being smooth, Upon her patient breast, making their way But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage The strong-ribbed bark through liquid mountains cut, Like Perseus' horse. Where's then the saucy boat, In storms of fortune; for, in her ray and brightness, Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, And flies fled under shade, why, then, the thing of courage, As roused with rage, with rage doth sympathize, And, with an accent tuned in self-same key, Returns to chiding fortune. Ulyss. Agamemnon, Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece, In whom the tempers and the minds of all The which, most mighty for thy place and sway,- I give to both your speeches,-which were such, |