PROLOGUE. IN Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, Greece The princes orgulous," their high blood chaf'd, With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel. And the deep-drawing barks* do there disgorge Their warlike fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city, And Antenorides," with massy staples, And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts, Sperr up the sons of Troy. C Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are; The fourthe gate highte also Cetheas; The fyfte Troiana, the syxth Anthonydes," &c.as well as Caxton's "Recuyell of the historyes of Troye," &c., where, in the chapter headed, "How the Kynge Priam reediffi d the cyte of troye," it is said, "In this Cyte were sixe pryncipall gates. of whome that one was named dardane. the seconde tymbria, the third helyas. the fourthe chetas. the fifthe troyenne. and the sixthe antenorides." e Sperr up the sons of Troy.] The folio, where alone of the old editions this Prologue is given, reads, "Stirre up." Theobald first proposed "Sperr," an old word signifying to shut up, which is occasionally used by Chaucer, Spenser, and other of our early writers. darm'd,-] From this it appears that the speaker of the Prologue, instead of wearing the customary black cloak, was dressed in armour,-"In like conditions as our argument." ethe vaunt-] That is, the van, the fore-going, the begin jning. TRO. Have I not tarried? PAN. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting. TRO. Have I not tarried? PAN. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening. TRO. Still have I tarried. PAN. Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. TRO. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do. At Priam's royal table do I sit; And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,— So, traitor!-when she comes!-when is she thence? b PAN. Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else. TRO. I was about to tell thee,-when my heart, As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain ; Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, I have (as when the sun doth light a storm*) Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile: But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness, 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,t-but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but— TRO. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,— Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice: (*) Old text, a-scorne, corrected by Rowe. (+) First folio, it. ablench-] To blench meant to flinch, or start off. The word is found again in "The Winter's Tale," Act II. Sc. 2; in "Hamlet," Act II. Sc. 2; and in "Measure for Measure," Act IV. Sc. 5. b when she comes!-when is she thence?] So Rowe; the old editions having, "then she comes when she is thence." c Handlest in thy discourse,-0, that her hand, &c.] This line, we surmise, has suffered from a compositor's transposition: the genuine reading, apparently, being,- "Handlest in thy discourse her hand, -O, that, PAN. Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday." But what care I? I care not an she were a blackamoor; 't is all one to me. TRO. Say I she is not fair? PAN. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter. TRO. Pandarus,— TRO. Sweet Pandarus,— PAN. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end. [Exit. An alarum. TRO. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds! Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, It is too starv'd a subject for my sword. Unless, indeed, the words, "her hand," were intended to be repeated, "Handlest in thy discourse her hand-0, that her hand," &c. In any case, it is evident from what follows,-"this thou tell'st me," &c.-that Troilus is repeating, or pretending to repeat, what Pandarus had said in praise of Cressida's hand; and the lines should be marked as a quotation. d she has the mends in her own hands.] This was a proverbial expression; the meaning,-She must make the best of it. So Burton, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy,"-"- and if men will be jealous in such cases, the mends is in their own handsthey must thank themselves." e she would be as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday.] We are not sure we understand this; it perhaps means,-She would be considered as fair in ordinary apparel as Helen in holiday finery. Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love, Alarum. Enter ENEAS. ENE. How now, prince Troilus! wherefore not afield? TRO. Because not there: this woman's answer sorts,a For womanish it is to be from thence. ENE. That Paris is returned home, and hurt. Troilus, by Menelaus. TRO. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn; Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum. ENE. Hark, what good sport is out of town to-day! TRO. Better at home, if would I might, were may. But to the sport abroad;—are you bound thither? Come, go we, then, together. SCENE II.-The same. A Street. Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXANDER. CRES. Who were those went by? Up to the eastern tower, What was his cause of anger? ALEX. The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector; CRES. 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 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 hath 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. d 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 waking. CRES. Who comes here? ALEX. Madam, your uncle Pandarus. Enter PANDARUS. CRES. Hector's a gallant man. CRES. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus. PAN. Good morrow, cousin Cressid: what do you talk of ?-Good morrow, Alexander.-How do you, cousin? When were you at Ilium? CRES. This morning, uncle. PAN. What were you talking of, when I came ? Was Hector armed 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? CRES. So he says here. PAN. True, he was so; I know the cause 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. 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. PAN. Well, I say, Troilus is Troilus. CRES. Then you say as I say; for, I am sure, he is not Hector. |