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

Cre. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.

Pan. But there was fuch laughing. Queen Hecuba laught that her eyes run o'er.

Cre. With milftones.

Pan. And Caffandra 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 fpied on Troilus's chin.

[too. Cre. An't had, been a green hair, I fhould have laught Pan. They laught not fo much at the hair as at his pretty answer.

Cre. What was his answer?

Pan. Quoth fhe, 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 queftion of that: one and fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white; that white hair is my father, and all the reft are his fons. Jupiter! quoth fhe, which of thefe hairs is Paris my husband? the forked one, quoth he, pluck't out and give it him: but there was fuch laughing, and Helen fo blufh'd, and Paris fo chaft, and all the reft fo laught, that it past.*

Cre. So let it now, for it has been a great while going by. Pan. Well, Coufin, I told you a thing yesterday; think on't.

Cre. So I do.

Pan. I'll be fworn 'tis true; he will weep you as 'twere a man born in April. [Sound & retreat. Cre. And I'll fpring up in his tears, as 'twere a nettle against May.

Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field; fhall we ftand up here and fee them as they pass towards Ilium? good neice, do, fweet neice Creffida.

See a note in The Merry Wives of Windfor, p. 190.

Cre

Cre. At your pleasure.

Pan. Here, here, here's an excellent place, here we may fee moft bravely; I'll tell you them all by their names, as they pafs by; but mark Troilus above the reft.

Eneas paffes over the Stage.

Cre. Speak not fo 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 fee anon.

Cre. Who's that?

Antenor paffes over the Stage.

Pan. That's Antenor; he has a fhrewd wit, I can tell you, and he's a man good enough; he's one o'th' foundest judgment in Troy whofoever, and a proper man of perfon; when comes Troilus? I'll fhew you Troilus anon; if he fee me, you fhall fee him nod at me.

Cre. Will he give you the nod?

Pan. You fhall fee.

Cre. If he do, the reft fhall have none.

Hector paffes 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 fee? look you there: there's no jefting; there's laying on, take't off who will, as they fay; there be hacks.

Cre. Be thofe with fwords?

Paris paffes 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 faid he came home hurt to-day? he's not hurt: why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! would I could fee Troilus now; you fhall fee Troilus

anon.

Cre, Who's that?

Helenus

Helenus paffes 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 Helênus 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 fneaking fellow comes yonder?

Troilus paffes over.

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

Cr. Peace, for shame, peace."'

Pan. Mark him, note him: O brave Troilus! look well upon him, neice, look you how his fword 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 faw three and twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way; had I a fifter were a Grace, and a daughter a Goddefs, 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 comes more.

Pan. Affes, fools, dolts, chaff and bran, chaff and bran; porridge after meat. I could live and die 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 fuch 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 difcretion? have you any eyes? do you know what a man is? is not birth, beauty, good shape, difcourfe, manhood, learning, gentlenefs, virtue, youth, liberality, and fo forth, the fpice and falt that feafons a man?

Cre. Ay, a minc'd man, and then to he bak'd with no date in the pye, for then the man's date is out.

Pan.

Pan. You are fuch 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 fecrefie, to defend mine honefty; my mafk to defend my beauty, to defend all the fe: at all these wards I lye, thousand watches.

Pan. Say one of your watches.

and you

and at a

Cre. Nay, I'll watch you for that, and that's one of the chiefeft 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 fwell past hiding, and then it is past watching. Pan. You are fuch another!

Enter Boy.

Boy. Sir, my Lord would inftantly speak with you. Pan. Where?

Boy. At your own houfe, there he unarms him.

Pan. Good boy, tell him I come; I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good neice.

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

Cre. To bring, uncle

Pan. Ay, a token from Troilus.

Cre. By the fame token, you are a bawd. [Exit Pan, Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full facrifice,

He offers in another's enterprize :

But more in Troilus thoufand-fold I fee,

Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be,

Yet hold I off. Women are angels wooing,

Things won are done, the foul'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, fo fweet, as when defire did fue:
Atchievement is, command; ungain'd, befecch.
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.

• By Content here is meant Capacity.

VOL. VIII,

[Exit.

SCENE

SCENE V.

Agamemnon's Tent in the Grecian Camp. Trumpets. Enter Agamemnon, Neftor, Ulyffes, Diomedes, Menelaus with others.

Aga. Princes,

What grief hath fet the jaundice on your cheeks?
The ample propofition that hope makes

In all defigns begun on earth below,

Fails in the promis'd largenefs; checks and difafters
Grow in the veins of actions higheft rear'd:

As knots by the conflux of meeting fap
Infect the found pine, and divert his grain
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
Nor, Princes, is it matter new to us,
That we come fhort of our fuppofe so far,
That after fev'n years fiege, yet Troy walls ftand;
Sith every action, that hath gone before,
Whereof we have record, tryal did draw
Bias and thwart; not answering the aim,
And that unbodied figure of the thought

That gav't furmised shape. Why then, you Princes,
Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works,

And think them fhame, which are, indeed, nought elfe
But the protractive tryals of great Jove,

To find perfiftive conftancy in men?

The fineness of which metal is not found

In fortune's love; for there, the bold and coward,
The wife and fool, the artist and unread,

The hard and foft, feem all affin'd, and kin;
But in the wind and tempeft of her frown,
Diftinction with a broad and powerful fan
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mafs or matter, by itfelf
Lyes rich in virtue, and unmingled.

Neft. With due obfervance of thy godlike seat,

Great Agamemnon, Neftor fhall apply

Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance

Lyes the true proof of men: the fea being smooth,
How many fhallow bauble boats dare fail

Upon her patient breaft, making their way