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and fo I'll tell her, the next time I fee her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter.
Pan. Not I.
Troi. Sweet Pandarus,
Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.
Troi. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude founds!
Fools on both fides! Helen must needs be fair,
It is too ftarv'd a fubject for my fword.
But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me!
Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield? Troi. Because not there; This woman's anfwer forts, For womanifh it is to be from thence.
What news, Æneas, from the field to-day?
Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Pour Ilium]-Priam's palace.
Troi. By whom, Æneas?
Troi. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a fcar to fcorn;
[Alarum. Ene. Hark! what good fport is out of town to-day! Troi. Better at home, if would I might, were may.— But, to the sport abroad;-Are you bound thither? Ene. In all fwift hafte.
Troi. Come, go we then together.
Enter Creffida, and Alexander her Servant.
Cre. Who were those went by?
Serv. Up to the eastern tower,
In Hector's wrath.
Cre. What was his caufe of anger?
Serv. The noife goes, this: There is among the Greeks
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
↑ as the virtue]—as the Goddess herself.
barnefs'd light,]-equipped, and ready for action.
Cre. Good; And what of him?
Serv. They fay he is a very man per fe, And ftands alone.
Cre. So do all men; unless they are drunk, fick, or have no legs.
Serv. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beafts of their particular additions; he is as valiant as the lion, churlish as the bear, flow as the elephant: a man into whom na`ture hath so crowded humours, that his valour is "crushed into folly, his folly fauced with difcretion: there is no man hath a virtue, that he hath not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, but he carries fome ftain of it: he is melancholy without caufe, and merry against the hair: He hath the joints of every thing; but every thing so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no ufe; or purblinded Argus, all eyes and no fight.
Cre. But how fhould this man, that makes me fmile, make Hector angry?
Serv. They fay, he yesterday cop'd Hector in the battle, and ftruck him down; the difdain and shame whereof hath ever fince kept Hector fafting and waking.
Cre. Who comes here?
Serv. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
Serv. As may be in the world, lady.
Pan. What's that? what's that?
a very man per fe,]-a very A per fe-an extraordinary perfonage.
particular additions ;]-diftinguishing qualities,
crubed-confufed, mingled with, incorporated.
"Crush him together"- CYMBELINE, A& I. S. 1.
Cre. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus. Pan. Good morrow, coufin Creffid: What do you talk of?-Good morrow, Alexander.-How do you, coufin? When were you at Ilium?
Cre. This morning, uncle.
Pan. What were you talking of, when I came ?
Cre. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
Cre. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
Cre. So he fays here.
Pan. True, he was fo; I know the caufe 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 tell them that too.
Cre. What, is he angry too?
Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the
Cre. O, Jupiter! there's no comparison.
Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man, if you see him?
Cre. Ay; if I ever faw him before, and knew him.
Pan. Well, I fay, Troilus is Troilus.
Cre. Then you fay as I fay; for, I am fure, he is not Hector.
Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in fome degrees. Cre. 'Tis juft to each of them; he is himself.
Pan. Himfelf? Alas, poor Troilus! I would, he
Cre. So he is.
Pan. 'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to India.
z-Condition, I had gone]-If so, then have I gone.
Cre. He is not Hector.
Pan. Himself? no, he's not himself.-'Would 'a were himself! Well, the gods are above; Time must friend, or end: Well, Troilus, well,-I would, my heart were No, Hector is not a better man than
in her body! Troilus.
Cre. Excufe me.
Pan. He is elder.
Cre. Pardon me, pardon me.
Pan. The other's not come to't; you fhall tell me another tale, when the other's come to't. Hector shall not
have his wit this year.
Cre. He fhall not need it, if he have his own.
Pan. Nor his qualities.
Cre. No matter.
Pan. Nor his beauty.
Cre. 'Twould not become him, his own's better.
Pan. You have no judgment, niece: Helen herself fwore the other day, that Troilus, for a brown favour, (for fo 'tis, I must confefs)-Not brown neither.
Cre. No, but brown.
Pan. 'Faith, to fay truth, brown and not brown.
Pan. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
Pan. So he has.
Cre. Then, Troilus fhould 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 praife for a good complexion. I had as lieve, Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nofe.
Pan. I fwear to you, I think, Helen loves him better than Paris.