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Cre. That were we talking of, and of his anger,
Pan. Was he angry?

Cre. So he fays here.

Pan. True, he was fo; I know the cause too: he'll Jay 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. Oh Jupiter! there's no comparison.

Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector? do you know a man if you fee him?

Cre. Ay, if ever I 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

Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in fome degrees.
Cre. 'Tis juft to each of them, he is himself.
Pan. Himself? alas poor Troilus! I would he were.
Cre. So he is.


Pan. On condition I had gone bare-foot to India.
Cre. He is not Hector.

Pan. Himfelf? 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 bodyno, Hector is not a better man, than Troilus.

Cre. Excufe me.

Pan. He is elder.

Cre. Pardon me, pardon me.

Pan. Th' other's not come to't, you fhall tell me another tale when th' other's come to't: Hector fhall not have his wit this year.

Cre. He shall not need it, if he have his own.

Pan. Nor his Qualities.

Cre. No matter.

Pan. Nor his beauty.

8 'Condition


Cre. 'Twould not become him, his own's better. Pan. You have no judgment, neice; Helen her felf fwore th' other day, that Troilus for a brown favour, (for fo 'tis I must confefs) not brown neither

Cre. No, but brown.

Pan. 'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
Cre. To fay the truth, true and not true.

Pan. She prais'd his complexion above Paris's.
Cre. Why, Paris hath colour enough.

Pan. So he has.


Cre. Then Troilus fhould have too much; if fhe prais'd him about his complexion as higher than his, he having colour enough, 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 copper nofe.

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

Cre. Then fhe's a merry Greek indeed.

Pan. Nay, I am fure fhe does. She came to him th' other day into the compaft window; and you know he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.


Cre. Indeed a tapfter's arithmetick may foon 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 fo young a man, and fo 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 cloven?

Pan. Why, you know 'tis dimpled. I think his fmiling becomes him better, than any man in all Phrygia.

Cre. Oh, he fmiles valiantly.

Pan. Does he not?

Cre. O yes, 'as 'twere a cloud in autumn.

Pan. Why, go to then-but to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus.


9 above, his complexion is I and the other. 2 an

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Cre. Troilus will ftand to the proof, if you'll prove

it fo.

Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more, than I efteem an addle egg.

Cre. If you love an addle 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 fhe has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confefs.

Cre. Without the rack.

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

Cre. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.
Pan. But there was fuch laughing.

laught that her eyes run o'er.

Cre. With milftones.

Pan. And Caffandra laught.

Cre. But there was more temperate fire under the pot

of her eyes; did her eyes run o'er too?

Pan. And Hector laught.

Queen Hecuba

Cre. At what was all this laughing?

Pan. Marry, at the white hair, that Helen fpied on Troilus's chin.

Cre. An't had been a green hair, I fhould have laught


Pan. They laught not fo much at the hair as at his pretty answer.


Cre. What was his anfwer?

Pan. Quoth fhe, 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 queftion of that; 'one` and fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white; that white hair is my father, and all the reft are his fons. Jupiter! quoth fhe, which of these hairs is Paris my husband? the forked one, quoth he, pluck't out and give it him :


3 two... old edit. Theob. emend.

4 two... old edit. Theob. emend.

but there was fuch laughing, and Helen fo blufh'd, and Paris fo chaft, and all the reft fo laught, that it past. Cre. So let it now, for it has been a great while going


Pan. Well, coufin, I told you a thing yesterday; think on't.

Cre. So I do..

Pan, I'll be fworn 'tis true; he will weep you 'as 'twere a man born in April. [Sound a retreat. Cre. And I'll fpring up in his tears, as 'twere a nettle against May.

Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field; fhall we stand up here and fee them as they pafs towards Ilium? good neice, do, fweet neice Creffida

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. Eneas paffes over the Stage.

Cre. Speak not fo 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 fhall fee anon. Cre. Who's that?

Antenor paffes over the Stage.

Pan. That's Antenor; he has a fhrewd wit, I can tell you, and he's a man good enough; he's one o'th' foundest judgment in Troy whofoever, and a proper man of perfon; when comes Troilus? I'll fhew you Troilus anon; if he fee me, you fhall fee him nod at me.

Cre. Will he give you the nod?

Pan. You fhall fee.

Cre. If he do, the 'reft fhall have none.

Hector paffes over.

Pan. That's Hector, that, that, look you, that: there's


(a) See a note in The Merry Wives of Windfor, Aa I. Scene V. 6 rich fhall have more. 5 an

a fellow! go thy way, Hetor; there's a brave man, neice: O brave Hector! look how he looks: there's a countenance ! is't not a brave man ?

Cre. O brave man!

Pan. Is he not? It does a man's heart good, look you what hacks are on his helmet, look you yonder, do you fee? look you there: there's no jefting; there's laying on, take't off who will, as they fay, there be hacks.

Cre. Be those with fwords?

Paris paffes over.

Pan. Swords, any thing, he cares not, an the devil come to him, it's all one; by godslid, it does one's heart good. Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris : look ye yonder, neice, is't not a gallant man too, is't not? why, this is brave now: who faid he came home hurt to-day? he's not hurt; why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! would I could fee Troilus now; you fhall fee Troilus anon.

Cre. Who's that?

Helenus paffes 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 Troilus? Helenus is a priest. Cre. What freaking fellow comes yonder?

Troilus paffes over.

Pan. Where! yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus! there's a man, neice-hem-brave Troilus! the prince of chivalry.

Cre. Peace, for fhame, peace.

Pan. Mark him, note him: O brave Troilus! look VOL. VI.



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