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Pan. What's that? what's that?
Pan. s Good morrow, cousin Cressid: what do you talk of? Good morrow, Alexander. How do you cousin? when were you at 6 Ilium?
Cre. This morning, uncle.
Pan. What were you talking of, when I came ?, Was Hector arm'd and gone, ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up? was she ?
Cre. Hector was gone, but Helen was not up.
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 teil them that too.
Cre. What is he angry too?
o the two.
s Good morrow coufin, Gresid: what do you talk of? Good morrow, ALEXANDER. -How do you, cousan?-] Geod n:orrors Alexander, is added in all the editions, says Mr. Pope, very absurdly, Paris not being on the frage.-Wonderful acuteness! But, with submission, this gentleman's note is much more abfurd; for it falls out very unluckily for his remark, that though Paris is, for the generality, in Homer called Alexander; yet, in this play, by any one of the characters introduced, he is called nothing but Paris. The truth of the fact is this: Pandarus is of a busy, impertinent, infinuating character; and it is natural for him, so soon as he has given his cousin the goodmorrow, to pay his civilities too to her attendant. This is purely er na, as the grammarians call it; and gives us an admirable touch of Pandarus's character. And why might not dlexander bc the name of Cresid's man? Paris had no patent, I suppose, for engrofling it to himself. But the late editor, perhaps, because we have had Alexander the Great, Pope ilexander, and Alexander Pope, would not have so eminent a pame prostituted to a comn on varlet. THEOBALD. llium?) Was the palace of Troy. JOHNSON.
Cre. Oh, Jupiter ! there's no comparison.
Pon. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man, if you see him?
Cre, Ay; if I ever saw him before, and knew him.
Cre. Then you say as I say; for I am sure he is not Hector.
Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees.
Cre. 'Tis just to each of them. He is himself.
Pan. Himself? alas, poor Troilus ! I would he were
Cre. So he is. Pan. --'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to India. Cre. He is not Hector. - Pan. Himself? No, he's not himself.-'Would he were himself! Well, the gods are above; time must friend, or end. Well, Troilus, well, I would my heart were in her body!--No, Fiector is not a better man than Troilus.
Cre. Excuse me.
Pan. The other's not come to't; you shall tell nic another tale, when the other's come to’t. Hector shall not have his wit this year.
Cre. He shall not need it, if he have his own,
Pan. You have no judgment, niece. Helen herfelf swore the other day, that Troilus for a brown favour (for so 'tis, I must confess) — Not brown neither
Cre. No, but brown,
Pan. She prais’d his complexion above Paris.
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 faming a praise for a good complexion. I had as lieve Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a
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 the other day into the 7 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 Hector.
Cre. Is he so young a man, and 8 fo 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. Oh, he smiles valiantly.
? compass-windozv;-] The compass-window is the same as the bow-window. JOHNSON.
- fo old a lifier ?] The word lifter is used for a thief, by Green, in his Art of Coney-catching, printed 1591: on this the humour of the paffage may be supposed to turn. We still call a person who robs the shops, a pop-lifter. Jonson uses the expression in Cynthia's Revels : “ One other peculiar virtue you possess is, lifting.”
Pen. 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.
Pai. Troilus ? why he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg.
Cre. If you love an addle egg, as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i' the shell.
Pan. I cannot chuse but laugh to think how she tickled his chin; indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confefs.
Cre. Without the rack.
Pon. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.
Cre. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.
Pan. But there was such laughing. Queen Hecuba laugh’d, that her eyes ran o'er.
Cre. With mill-ítones.
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 chin.
Cre. An't had been a green hair, I should have laugh'd too.
Pon. They laugh'd not so much at the hair, as at his pretty answer.
Cre. What was his answer ?
Pen. 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. 9 Oneand-fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white; that white
9 Two-and-fifty kairs,-) I have ventured to substitute oneand fifty', I think, with some certainty. How else can the number make out Priam and his fifty fons ? THEOBALD.
hair is my father, and all the rest are his fons. 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 blush'd, and Paris fo chaf'd, and all the rest so laugh'd, that it past.
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.
Pen. Hark, they are coming from the field : shall we stand up here, and see them, as they pass towards Ilium? Good niece, do: sweet niece 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 pases 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 Troilus; you shall see anon, Cre. Who's that?
Antenor passes over. 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
I That's Antenor; he has a fhrewd wit,-)
« Anthenor was
• To jeft, when as he was in companie,