By god's lid, it does one's heart good:-Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris: look ye yonder, niece: [PARIS passes over.] Is 't not a gallant man too, is 't not?-Why, this is brave now.-Who said he came hurt home today? he 's not hurt: why, this will do Helen's heart good now. Ha! 'would I could see Troilus now!-you shall see Troilus anon. CRES. Who's that? HELENUS passes over. PAN. That's Helenus,-I marvel where Troilus is:-That 's Helenus;—I think he went not forth to-day :-That 's Helenus. CRES. 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. CRES. What sneaking fellow comes yonder? TROILUS passes over. PAN. Where? yonder? that 's Deiphobus: 'Tis Troilus! there's a man, niece! -Hem!-Brave Troilus! the prince of chivalry. CRES. Peace, for shame, peace! PAN. Mark him; note him;-0 brave Troilus!-look well upon him, niece; look you, how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hacked than Hector's: And how he looks, and how he goes!-O admirable youth! he ne'er saw three-and-twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way; had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris?-Paris is dirt to him; and I warrant, Helen, to change, would give money to boot. Forces pass over the stage. CRES. Here come more. PAN. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran! porridge after meat! I could live and die i' the eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look; the eagles are gone; crows and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus, than Agamemnon and all Greece. CRES. There is among the Greeks, Achilles; a better man than Troilus. CRES. Well, well. PAN. Well, well?-Why, have you any discretion? have you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and so forth, the spice and salt that season a man? a So forth in the folio-the quarto, such like. 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 another a woman! one knows not at what ward you lie. 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. PAN. Say one of your watches. CRES. Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that 's one of the chiefest of them too; if I cannot ward what I would not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless it swell past hiding, and then it 's past watching. PAN. You are such another! Enter TROILUS' Boy. Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. Boy. At your own house; [there he unarms him."] I doubt, he be hurt.-Fare ye well, good niece. CRES. Adieu, uncle. PAN. I'll be with you, niece, by and by. CRES. To bring, uncle, PAN. Ay, a token from Troilus. CRES. By the same token-you are a bawd. Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be; Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing: Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing: That she belov'd knows nought that knows not this,— That she was never yet that ever knew Love got so sweet, as when desire did sue: Therefore this maxim out of love I teach, Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech: Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear, a Another in the folio-the quarto, a. [Exit Boy. [Exit PANDARUS. [Exit. The words in brackets are not in the folio. Gifts is the reading of all the old copies. Griefs has crept into all the modern editions. SCENE III.-The Grecian Camp. Before Agamemnon's Tent. Senet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, MENELAUS, and others. AGAM. Princes, What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks? The ample proposition that hope makes In all designs begun on earth below, Fails in the promis'd largeness: checks and disasters As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, Nor, princes, is it matter new to us, That we come short of our suppose so far, That, after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls stand; That gave 't surmised shape. Why then, you princes, Do you And think them shames, which are, indeed, nought else But the protractive trials of great Jove, To find persistive constancy in men? The fineness of which metal is not found In fortune's love: for then, the bold and coward, The wise and fool, the artist and unread, The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin: Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance Lies the true proof of men: the sea being smooth, Upon her patient breast, making their way With those of nobler bulk! But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage The gentle Thetis, and, anon, behold TRAGEDIES.-VOL. II. a Broad in the quarto-the folio, loud. B The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, Like Perseus' horse: Where's then the saucy boat, Doth valour's show and valour's worth divide, In storms of fortune: For, in her ray and brightness, The herd hath more annoyance by the brize a Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, And flies fled under shade, why, then, the thing of courage, As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathise, And, with an accent tun'd in self-same key, Returns to chiding fortune. Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece, Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit, In whom the tempers and the minds of all The which,-most mighty for thy place and sway,- Divide thy lips, than we are confident, a Brize-the gad-fly. Hatch'd. Gifford says "to hatch is to inlay." [To AGAMEMNON. [TO NESTOR. • This is the reading of the folio, except in the substitution of on for in. The quarto has e "On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears. a This speech of Agamemnon is not in the quarto. • Mastick. We retain the word of the original. Masticke is there printed with a capital initial, as marking something emphatic. In all modern editions the word is rendered mastive. We are inclined to think that mastick is not a typographical mistake. Every one has heard of Prynne's celebrated book, 'Histrio-Mastix: The Player's Scourge;' but it is not so generally known that this title was borrowed by the great controversialist from a play first printed in 1610, but supposed ULYSS. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, The specialty of rule hath been neglected: What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded, The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, And posts, like the commandment of a king, What plagues, and what portents! what mutiny! Commotion in the winds! frights, changes, horrors, The unity and married calm of states Quite from their fixture! O, when degree is shak'd, The enterprise is sick! How could communities, Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, to be written earlier, which is a satire upon actors and dramatic writers from first to last. We attach little importance to the circumstance that the author of that satire has introduced a dialogue between Troilus and Cressida; for the subject had most probably possession of the stage before Shakspere's play. But it appears to us by no means improbable that an epithet should be applied to the "rank Thersites" which should pretty clearly point at one who had done enough to make himself obnoxious to the poet's fraternity. |