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Cre. No matter.
Pan. You have no judgement, neice; Helen her self swore th other day, that Troilus for a brown favour, (for so 'tis I must confess) not brown neither
Cre, No but brown.
Cre. Then Troilus should have too much ; if (he prais’d 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 lieve Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose.
Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him better than Paris. Cre. Then she's a merry Greek indeed.
Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other day into the compaft window; and you know he has not part three or four hairs on his chin.
Cre. Indeed a tapster's arithmetick may foon 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.
Cre. 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.
Cre. 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. Cre. Ob, he smiles valiantly.
Pan. Does he not?
Pan. Why, go to then - but to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus.
Cre. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so.
Cre. If you love an addle egg, as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i’th’shell.
Pan. I cannot chuse but laugh to think how she tickled his chin ; indeed she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess.
Cre. Without the rack.
Pan. But there was such laughing. Queen Hecuba laught that her eye run o'er.
Cre. With milstones.
Cre. But there was more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes; did her eyes run o'er too?
Pan. And Hector laught.
Pan. Marry at the white hair, that Helen spied on Troilus's chin.
Cre. An't had been a green hair, I should have laught too. Pan. They laught not so much at the hair as at his pretty answer. Cre. What was his answer ?
Pan. Quoth she, here's but two and fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white.
Cre. 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 the 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 blush'd, and Paris so chaft, and all the rest so laught, that it past.
Cre. So let it now, for it has been a great while going by.
Pan. I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you an 'twere a man born in April .
(Sound a retreat. Cre. And I'll spring up in his tears, as 'twere a nettle against May.
Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field, shall we stand up here and see them as they pass towards llium? good neice do, sweet neice Cressida.
Cre. 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.
Æneas passes over the Stage. Cre. 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; byt mark Troilus, you shall see anon. Cre. Who's that?
Antenor passes over the Stage. Pan. That’s Antenor, he has a shrewd wit, I can tell you, and he's a man good enough, he's one o'ch' soundest judgment in Troy whosoever, and a proper man of person ; when comes Troilus ? I'll shew you
if he see me, you shall see him nod at me.
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, neice: O brave Hector! look how he looks? there's a countenance! is't not a brave man?
Cre. O brave man!
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.
Cre. 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 godslid is does ones 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 said he came home hurt 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. Cre. Who's that?
Helenus pases over. Pan. That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is : that's Hele
I think he went not forth to-day; that's Helenus. Cre. Can Helenus fight, uncle?
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.
Cre. What sneaking fellow comes yonder?
Troilus passes over. Pan. Where! yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus! there's a man, neice ---- hem ---- brave Troilus; the prince of chivalry.
Cre. Peace, for shame, peace.
Pan. Mark him, note him: O brave Troilus: look well upon him, neice, look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hack'd then 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 one eye to boot.
Enter common Soldiers. Cre. Here come more.
Pan. Affes, fools, dolts, chaff and bran, chaff and bran; porridge after meat. I could live and dye i'ch' 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 Agamem. non 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.
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 so forth, the spice and salt that seasons a man?
Che. Ay, a minc'd man, and then to be bak'd with no dare in the pye, for then the man's date is out.
Pan. You are such another woman, one knows not at what ward you lye. Cre. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to de