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Greece

The princes orgulous, their high blood chaf’d,

In Troy there lies the scene. From isles of In like conditions as our argument,

Have to the port of Athens sent their ships,

Fraught with the ministers and instruments 4 Beginning in the middle; starting thence away

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broils,

Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore

Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay

Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is

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.

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made

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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 Cassandra's wit, but- 49 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

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Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; Handlest in thy discourse, O! that her hand, 57 In whose comparison all whites are ink, Writing their own reproach; to whose soft |

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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? 104
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. 109

Alarum. Enter ÆNEAS.

Æne. How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not afield?

Tro, Because not there: this woman's an swer sorts,

For womanish it is to be from thence.

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And stands alone.

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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: 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 crushedinto 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. Heis melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair; he hath the joints of every thing, but every thing so out of joint that the he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight.

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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

Cres. What! is he angry too?
Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better

man of the two.

Cres. O Jupiter! there's no comparison. 64 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.

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Cres. Then you say as I say; for I am sure

he is not Hector.

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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. 113

Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him better than Paris.

Cres. Then she's a merry Greek indeed. 116 Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other day into the compassed window, and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin,

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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.

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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,

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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?

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Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.

Cres. Alas! poor chin! many a wart is richer.
Pan. But there was such laughing: Queen

Hecuba laughed that her eyes ran o'er.
Cres. With millstones.

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Pan. And Cassandra laughed. Cres. But there was more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes: did her eyes run o'er too? Pan. And Hector laughed.

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Cres. At what was all this laughing?
Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen

spied on Troilus' chin.

Cres. An't had been a green hair, I should

have laughed too.

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Pan. They laughed not so much at the hair

as at his pretty answer.

Cres. What was his answer?

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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't 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.

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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.

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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.

Cres. Speak not so loud.

ÆNEAS passes over the stage.

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Pan. That's Æneas: 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. 201

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Cres. Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked with no date in the pie, for then the man's date's out.

Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you lie. 281

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.

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Cres. Peace! for shame, peace!

Pan. Mark him; note him: O brave Troilus! look well upon him, niece: look you how his

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