Greeks.

PANDARUS, Uncle to Cressida.

ALEXANDER, Servant to Cressida.

MARGARELON, a bastard son of Priam.

HELEN, Wife to Menelaus. ANDROMACHE, Wife to Hector.

Diomedes.

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants

Greece

The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,
Have to the port of Athens sent their ships,
Fraught with the ministers and instruments
Of cruel war: Sixty and nine, that wore
Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay
Put forth toward Phrygia: and their vow is made,
To ransack Troy; within whose strong immures
The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,
With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel.
To Tenedos they come;

And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
Their warlike fraughtage:2 Now on Dardan plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,

And Antenorides, with massy staples,
And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
Speer up the sons of Troy.

Now, expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard:-And hither am I come
A prologue arm'd,-but not in confidence
Of author's pen, or actor's voice; but suited
In like conditions as our argument,-
To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Leaps o'er the vaunt? and firstlings of those broils,
'Ginning in the middle; starting thence away
To what may be digested in a play.
Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are;
Now good, or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.

SCENE I.-Troy. Before Priam's Palace.

Enter TROILUS, armed, and PANDARUS.
Tro. Call here my varlet,3 I'll unarm again:
Why should I war without the walls of Troy,
That find such cruel battle here within?
Each Trojan, that is master of his heart,
Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none.
Pan. Will this gear ne'er be mended?

Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,

Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance;
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skill-less as unpractis'd infancy.

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He, Proud, disdainful. 2 Freight. = Servant. • Habit. Weaker.

So, traitor! when she comes!-When is she thence?

Pan. Well, she look'd yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else.

Tro. I was about to tell thee, -When my heart. As wedged with a sigh, would rive9 in twain; Lest Hector of my father should perceive me, I have (as when the sun doth light a storm) Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile: But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness, Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.

Pan. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to,) there were no more comparison between the women,-But, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it, praise her,-But I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister's Cassandra's wit; but

Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,-
When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
In Cressid's love: Thou answer'st, She is fair;
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart

Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice;
Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,
In whose comparison all whites are ink,
Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'st

me,

As true thou tell'st me, when I say,-I love her;
But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.

Pan. I speak no more than truth.
Tro. Thou dost not speak so much,

Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is: if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.

Tro. Good Pandarus! how now, Pandarus? Pan. I have had my labor for my travel; illthought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone between and between,but small thanks for my labor. Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?

Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore, she's not so fair as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not, an she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.

Tro. Say I, she is not fair!

Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her: For my part, I'll meddle no make nor more in the

matter.

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.

[Exit PANDARUS. An Alarum.

Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamors! peace, rude sounds!

Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;
It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.
But, Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;
And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo,
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl:
Between our Ilium, and where she resides,
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood;
Ourself, the merchant: and this sailing Pandar,
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

Alarum. Enter ENEAS.

Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not a-field?

Tro. Because not there: This woman's answer sorts,1

For womanish it is to be from thence.

What news, Æneas, from the field to-day?

• Split.

1 Suits.

Tro.

Come, go we then together.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II-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 mov'd:
He chid Andromache, and struck his armorer;
And like as there were husbandry in war,
Before the sun rose, he was harness'd light,
And to the field goes he; where every flower,
Did as a prophet, weep what it foresaw
In Hector's wrath.
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 of him?
Alex. They say he is a very man per se,2
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;3 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 valor 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 :5 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 ine 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.

Enter PANDARUS.

Cres. Who comes here?

Alex. Madam, your uncle 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 morow, 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. 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 is 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 ever I 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

Cres. No, but brown.

Pan. 'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
Cres. To say the truth, and not true.
Pan. She praised his complexion above Paris.
Cres. Why, Paris hath color enough.
Pun. 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 the other day into a compass'd 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.

Cres. With mill-stones.8

Pan. And Cassandra laughed.

Cres. But there was a 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. Merry, 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 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 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.9

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 Eneas; 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?

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
A proverbial saying. • Went beyond bounds
A term in the game at cards called noddy

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:- 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;-0 brave Troilus! -look well upon him, niece; look you, how his sword 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 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.

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. 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 date2 in the pye,-for then the man's date is out.

Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not at what wards 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.

Enter TROILUS' 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, 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:
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing:
Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the 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 so sweet, as when desire did sue:
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach,—
Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech:
Then though my heart's content firm love doth
bear,

Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. [Exit.

• Dates were an ingredient in ancient pastry of almost every kind. Guard.

Agam. Princes,

What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?
The ample proposition, that hope makes
In all designs begun on earth below,
Fails in the promis'd largeness; checks and disasters
Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd;
As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,
Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
Nor, princes, is it matter new to us,
That we come short of our suppose so far,
That, after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls stand;
Sith every action that hath gone before,
Whereof we have record, trial did draw
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
And that unbodied figure of the thought
That gave't surmised shape. Why then, you princes,
Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works;
And think them shames, which are, indeed, nought
else

But the protractive trials of great Jove,
To find persistive constancy in men?
The fineness of which metal is not found
In fortune's love; for them, the bold and coward,
The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
The hard and soft, seem all affined and kin;
But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,
Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mass, or matter, by itself
Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled.

Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat,
Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply
Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance,
Lies the true proof of men; The sea being smooth,
How many shallow bauble boats dare sail
Upon her patient breast, making their way
With those of nobler bulk!

But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
The gentle Thetis, and, anon, behold
The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains
cut,

Bounding between the two moist elements,
Like Perseus' horse: Where's then the saucy boat,
Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
Co-rival'd greatness? either to harbor fled,
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
Doth valor's show, and valor's worth, divide,
In storms of fortune: For, in her ray and bright-
The herd hath more annoyance by the brize,7
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,

ness,

As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize, And, with an accent tuned the self-same key, Returns to chiding fortune.

Ulyss. Agamemnon,Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece, Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit, In whom the tempers and the minds of all Should be shut up,-hear what Ulysses speaks. Besides the applause and approbation, The which, most mighty for thy place and sway,[TO AGAMEMNON. And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life,[TO NESTOR. I give to both your speeches,-which were such, As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece Should hold up high in brass; and such again, As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver, Should with a bond of air, (strong as the axle-tree On which heaven rides,) knit all the Greekish ears To his experienced tongue,-yet let it please

both,

Thou great, and wise,-to hear Ulysses speak. Agam. Speak, prince of Ithaca; and best of less

expects

That matter needless, of importless burden,
Divide thy lips: than we are confident,
When rank Thersites opes his mastiff jaws,
We shall hear music, wit, and oracle.

Twisted and rambling. Since.
The gad-fly that stings cattle.

Joined by affinity. • Expectation.