I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar; Alarum. Enter ÆNEAS. Ene. How now, prince Troilus! wherefore not afield? Tro. Because not there: this woman's answer sorts,2 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: 't is but a scar to scorn; Paris is gored with Menelaus' horn.4 3 [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. For thy Daphne's love] Daphne is here referred to because she rejected and fled from Apollo. 2 This woman's answer sorts] This answer, such as a woman is apt to give, suits the question. 3 To scorn] To be scorned, Horn] This refers to Menelaus as a cuckold. SCENE II.-The same. A Street. Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXANDER. Cres. Who were those went by? Queen Hecuba and Helen. Cres. And whither go they? Up to the eastern tower, Whose height commands as subject all the vale, 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, And stands alone. 1 Like as there were, &c.] As if men should be frugal or thrifty in war. So in Macbeth, ii. 1, 'There's husbandry in heaven, their candles are all out.' 2 Harnessed light] Lightly armed. 3 Weep] The similitude of dew for tears is a favourite one with poets. So in the Midsummer Night's Dream, iii. 1, ‘And when she weeps, weeps every little flower.' • The noise, &c.] This, as the rumour goes. Cres. So do all men,-unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs. 1 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 humours, 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 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. 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? 1 Additions] Characteristics. 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. E'en 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,1 I had gone bare-foot to India. 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. 1 Condition] Even on condition that. Cres. Excuse me. Pan. He is elder. Cres. Pardon me, pardon me. Pan. The other's not come to 't; you shall tell me another tale, when the other's come to 't. not have his wit1 this year. Hector shall Cres. He shall not need it, if he have his own. Pan. Nor his qualities, Cres. No matter. Pan. Nor his beauty. Cres. 'T would not become him,-his own 's better. Pan. You have no judgment, niece: Helen herself swore the other day, that Troilus, for a brown favour,2 (tor so 't is, 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. Pan. So he has. Cres. Then Troilus should have too much: if she praised him above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour 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 Greek3 indeed. His wit] The wit of Troilus. 2 Favour] Face; complexion. She came to him the A merry Greek] A merry Greek was a common name for a facetious or merry fellow. Hence in iv. 4, A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks.' |