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SCENE II

The same. A street.
Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXANDER.

Cres.
Who were those went by?

Alex.
Queen Hecuba and Helen.

Cres.
And whither go they?

Alex.
Up to the eastern tower.
Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
To see the battle. Hector, whose patience
Is, as a virtue, fix'd, to-day was moved:
He chid Andromache and struck his armorer,
And, like as there was husbandry in war,
Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,
And to the field goes he; where every flower
10Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw
In Hector's wrath.

Cres.
What was the 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,
And stands alone.

Cres.
So do all men, unless they are drunk,
sick, or have no legs.

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 valour 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: he
hath the joints of every thing, but everything
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 since kept Hector
fasting and waking.

Cres.
Who comes here?

Alex.
Madam, your uncle Pandarus. Enter PANDARUS.

Cres.
Hector's a gallant man.

Alex.
As may be in the world, lady.

Pan.
What's that? what's that?

Cres.
Good morrow, Uncle Pandarus.

Pan.
Good morrow, Cousin Cressid: what
do you talk of? Good morrow, Alexander.
How do you, cousin? When were you at
Ilium?

Cres.
This morning, uncle.

Pan.
What were you talking of when I
came? Was Hector armed and gone ere ye
came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she?

Cres.
Hector was gone, but Helen was not up.

Pan.
Even so: Hector was stirring early.

Cres.
That were we talking of, and of his anger.

Pan.
Was he angry?

Cres.
So he says here.

Pan.
True, he was so: I know the cause
too: he'll lay about him to-day, I can tell them
that; and there's Troilus will not come far
behind him; let them take heed of Troilus, I
can tell them that too.

Cres.
What, is he angry too?

Pan.
Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better
man of the two.

Cres.
O Jupiter! there's no comparison.

Pan.
What, not between Troilus and Hector?
Do you know a man if you see him?

Cres.
Ay, if I ever saw him before and
knew him.

Pan.
Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.

Cres.
Then you say as I say; for, I am
sure, he is not Hector.

Pan.
No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some
degrees.

Cres.
'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.

Pan.
Himself! Alas, poor Troilus, I would
he were.

Cres.
So he is.

Pan.
Condition, I had gone barefoot to
India.

Cres.
He is not Hector,

Pan.
Himself! no, he's not himself: would
a' 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.

Cres.
Excuse me.

Pan.
He is elder.

Cres.
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.

Cres.
He shall not need it, if he have his own.

Pan.
Nor his qualities.

Cres.
No matter.

Pan.
Nor his beauty.

Cres.
'Twould not become him; his own's better.

Pan.
You have no judgement, niece: Helen
herself swore th' other day, that Troilus, for
a brown favor--for so 'tis, I must confess,--
not brown neither,--

Cres.
No, but brown.

Pan.
'Faith, to say truth, brown and not
brown.

Cres.
To say the truth, true and not true.

Pan.
She praised his complexion above
Paris.

Cres.
Why, Paris hath color enough.

Pan.
So he has.

Cres.
Then Troilus should have too much;
if she praised him above, his complexion is
higher than his; he having color enough, and
the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a
good complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden
tongue had commended Troilus for a copper
nose.

Pan.
I swear to you, I think Helen loves
him better than Paris.

Cres.
Then she's a merry Greek indeed.

Pan.
Nay, I am sure she does. She came
to him th' other day into the compassed window,
--and, you know, he has not past three
or four hairs on his chin,--

Cres.
Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may
soon bring his particulars therein to a total.

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

Cres.
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--

Cres.
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.

Cres.
O, he smiles valiantly.

Pan.
Does he not?

Cres.
O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.

Pan.
Why, go to, then: but to prove to
you that Helen loves Troilus,--

Cres.
Troilus will stand to the proof, if
you'll prove it so.

Pan.
Troilus! why, he esteems her no more
than I esteem an addle egg.

Cres.
If you love an addle egg as well as
you love an idle head, you would eat chickens
i' the shell.

Pan.
I cannot choose but laugh, to think
how she tickled his chin: indeed, she has a
marvellous white hand, I must confess,--

Cres.
Without the rack.

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

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

Pan.
But there was such laughing! Queen
Hecuba laughed that her eyes ran o'er.

Cres.
With mill-stones.

Pan.
And Cassandra laughed.

Cres.
But there was more temperate fire
under the pot of her eyes: did her eyes run
o'er too?

Pan.
And Hector laughed.

Cres.
At what was all this laughing?

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.
170What was his answer?

Pan.
Quoth she, 'Here's but two 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. 'Two and fifty 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't 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, and '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.

Cres.
Speak not so loud. AENEAS passes.

Pan.
That's AEneas: 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. ANTENOR passes.

Cres.
Who's that?

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 judgements in Troy,
whosoever, and a proper man of person. When
comes Troilus? I'll show you Troilus anon:
if he sees 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.

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?

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. PARIS passes.

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. HELENUS passes.

Cres.
Who's that?

Pan.
That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus
is. That's Helenus. I think he went not
forth to-day. That's Helenus.

Cres.
Can Helenus fight, uncle?

Pan.
Helenus? no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent
well. I marvel where Troilus is. Hark!
do you hear the people cry 'Troilus'?
Helenus is a priest.

Cres.
What sneaking fellow comes yonder? TROILUS passes.

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 three and 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.

Cres.
Here comes more. Forces pass.

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.

Cres.
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, 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's 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 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 swells past hiding, and then it's past
watching.

Pan.
You are such another! Enter TROILUS'S BOY.

Boy.
Sir, my lord would instantly speak
with you.

Pan.
Where?

Boy.
At your own house; there he unarms
him.

Pan.
Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit boy.]
I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece.

Cres.
Adieu, uncle.

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

Cres.
To bring, uncle?

Pan.
Ay, a token from Troilus.

Cres.
By the same token, you are a bawd. [Exit Pandarus.

Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice,
He offers in another's enterprise:
310But more in Troilus thousand fold I see
Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be;
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing:
Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing.
That she beloved 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 so sweet as when desire did sue.
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach:
Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech:
320Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear
Nothing of that shall from my eyes appear. [Exeunt.

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