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is crushed into 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: he is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair : He bath the joints of every thing; but every thing so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight.
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 and shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting and wa
Pan. Good morrow, cousin Cressid : What do you talk of ?-Good morrow, Alexander.-How do you, cousin ? When were you at Dium?
Cres. This morning, uncle.
Pan. What were you talking of, when I came? Was Hector arined, and gone, ere ye came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she?
Cres. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
Pan. Was he angry?
Pan. True, he was so ; I know the cause too ; he'll lay about him to-day, I can tell them that: and there is Troilus will not come far behind him; let them take heed of Troilus; I can tell them that too.
Cres. What, is he angry too?
Pan. Who, Troilus ? Troilus is the better man of the two.
Cres. O, Jupiter, there's no comparison.
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.
Cres. Then you say as I say; for, I am sure, he is not Hector.
Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees.
Pan, Himself? Alas, poor Troilus! I would, he were,
Cres. So he is.
Pan. Himself? no, he's not bimself.—'Would a' were himself! Well, the gods are above ; Time must friend, or end: Well, Troilus, well, I would my heart were in her body !-No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.
Cres. Excuse me.
another tale, when the other's come to’t. Hector shall not have his wit this year.
Cres. He shall not need it, if he have his own.
Pan. You have no judgment, niece: Helen herself swore the other day, that Troilus, for a brown favour, (for so 'tis, I must confess,)--Not brown neither.
Cres. No, but brown.
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 faining a praise for a good complexion. I had as lief, Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose.
Pan. I swear to you, I think, Helen loves him better than Paris.
Cres. Then she's a merry Greek, indeed.
Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him the other day into a compassed window,--and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.
Cres. 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.
prove to you that
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,
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. Why, go to then :- But to prove to you that
Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so.
Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg
Cres. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i'the shell.
Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled his chin ;-Indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess.
Cres. Without the rack.
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 mill-stones.
Cres. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes :-Did her eyes run o'er too?
Pan. And Hector laughed.
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.
Pan. They laughed not so inuch at the hair, as at bis pretty answer.
Cres. What was his answer?
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 it 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.
Cres. 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.
Cres. So I do.
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 lium ? good niece, do; sweet niece Cressida.