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Cre. Then Troilus should have too much; if she 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 cop,
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, the does. She came to him th’ other day into the compass-window; and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.
Cre. Indeed, a tapster's arithmetick 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 Heftor.
Cre. Is he so young a man, and so old a lifter?
Pan. But to prove to you that Helen loves him, the came and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin.
Cre. Juno, have mercy! how came it clovent !".
Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think, his smiling becomes him better, than any man in all Phrygia.
Cre. Oh, he smiles valiantly. Pan. Does he not?. Cre. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn. 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 fo.
Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg. Cre. If
egg, as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i'th' fhell.
Pan. I cannot chufe but laugh to think how the tickled his chin ; indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I muft needs confefs.
Cre. Without the rack.
Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.
Cre. Alas, joor chin! míny a wart is richer.
-Pan. But there was such laughing Queen Hecuba laught, that her eyes run o'er.
Cre. With milftones.
eyes ; did her eyes run o'er too?
Gre. An't had been a green hair, I fhould 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 one 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 : one and fifty hairs. (4) quoth he, and one white; that white hair is my father, and all the rest are his fons. Jupiter! quoth the, 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 fo blufb'd, and Paris fo chaf'd, and all the rest fo laught, that it paft.
Cre. 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.
Cre. So I do.
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, an 'twere a nettle against May.
(4) Two and fifty hairs, queib be, and one white; that while Mair is my Father; and all the reft are bis Suns ] The Copyists must have erred here in the Number; and I have ventured to subftitute one and fifty, I think, with some Certainty. How else can the number make out Priam, and his fifty Sons ?
Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field; thall we stand up here, and see them, as they pass towards Ilium? good niece, do; sweet niece Cresida.
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 reft.
Æneas paffes over the Stage. Cre, 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 Trailus, 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'th' soundeft judgment in Troy whosoever, and a proper man of perfon, when comes Troilus? I'll fhew you Troilus anon ; if he see me, you shall fee him nod at me.
Cre. Will he give you the nod ?
Hector pafjes over. 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?
Cre. O hrave man !
Pana Is he 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 jefting: there's laying on, take't off who will, as they say, there bc hacks. Cre. Be those with swords?
Paris palles over. Pan. Swords, any thing he cares not, an the devil come to him, it's all one; by godillid, it does one's
keart good. Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris : look ye yonder, niece, is't not a gallant man too, is't no:? 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 Proilus now; you fhail see Troilus“ anon. Cre. Who's that?
Helenus pafjes 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 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 Troilas? Helenus" is a priest. Cre, What sneaking fellow comes yonder?
Trailus palles over. いた1401 Pan Where! yonder ? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis Treilus? there's a manyn niece
- hem brave Troilus! the prince of chivalry it.
Cre. 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 háck'd than Hector's, and how he looks, and how he goes ! O admirable youth ! he never saw three and twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way ; had I a fister 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 money 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 iook, 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
Cre. There is among the Greeks Achilles, a better man than Troi'us.
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 fpice and salt, that seasons a man?
Cre. Ay, a minc'd man: and then to be bak'd with no date in the pye, for then the man's date is out,
Pan. You are such another woman, one knows not at what ward you.lie.
Cre. Upon my back to defend my belly ; upon my wit, to defend my wiles ; upon my secresy, 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.
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 bit, I
for telling how I took the blow, unless it swell paft hiding, and then it is paft watching.
Pan. You are such another.
Boy. Sir, my Lord would instantly speak with you.
Pan. Good boy, tell him I come; I doubt, he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece.
Cre. Adieu, uncle.
Cre. By the fame token, you are a bawd. (Exit Pan.