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Shall be, and make new nations: He shall flourish, || Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye,
And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches She will be sick else. This day, no man think
He has business at his house; for all shall stay,
This little one shall make it holiday.

To all the plains about him:

children

Shall see this, and bless heaven.

Our children's

K. Hen. Thou speakest wonders.] Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of England, An aged princess; many days shall see her, And yet no day without a deed to crown it. 'Would I had known no more! but she must die, She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin, A most unspotted lily shall she pass

To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her.
K. Hen. O lord archbishop,

Thou hast made me now a man; never, before
This happy child, did I get any thing:
This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me,
That, when I am in heaven, I shall desire

To see what this child does, and praise my Maker. -
I thank ye all, To you, my good lord mayor,
And your good brethren, I am much beholden;
I have receiv'd much honour by your presence,
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way,
lords;

EPILOGUE.

[Exeunt.

'Tis ten to one, this play can never please
All that are here: Some come to take their ease,
And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear,
They'll say, 'tis naught: others, to hear the city
Abus'd extremely, and to cry, that's witty!
Which we have not done neither: that, I fear,
All the expected good we are like to hear
For this play at this time, is only in
The merciful construction of good women;
For such a one we show'd them; 45) If they smile, 46)
And say, 'twill do, I know, within a while
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
If they hold, when their ladies bid them clap.

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CALCHAS, a Trojan Priest, taking part with the Servant to Troilus; Servant to Paris; Servant to

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IN Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
The princes orgulous, ') their high blood chaf'd
Have to the port of Athens sent their ships,
Fraught with the ministers and instruments
Of cruel war: Sixty and nine that wore
Their crowns regal, from the Athenian bay
Put forth toward Phrygia: and their vow is made,
To ransack Troy; within whose strong immures
The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,

With wanton Paris sleeps: and that's the quarrel.
To Tenedos they come;

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,
Dardan, and Tymbria, Ilias, Chetas, Trojan,
And Antenorides, with massy staples,
And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts, 2)
Sperr up the sons of Troy. 3)

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Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard: And hither am I come,
A prologue arm'd, -4) but not in confidence
Of author's pen, or actor's voice; but suited
In like conditions as our argument,
To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Leaps o'er the vaunt 5) and firstlings of those broils,
'Ginning in the middle; starting thence away
To what may be digested in a play.
Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are;
Now good, or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Troy. Before Priam's Palace. Enter TROILUS armed; and Pandarus. Tro. Call here my varlet, ") I'll unarm again: Why should I war without the walls of Troy, That find such cruel battle here within? Each Trojan, that is master of his heart, Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none. Pan. Will this geer ne'er be mended?

Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their

strength,

Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, fonder 7) than ignorance;
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skill-less as unpractis'd infancy.

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He, that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding.

Tro. Have I not tarried?

Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.

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And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,
So, traitor! when she comes!

thence?

When is she 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,) Bury'd 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, But I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but

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Tro. O, Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,

As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl:
Between our Ilium, and where she resides,
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood;
Ourself, the merchant; and this sailing Pandar,
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.
Alarum. Enter ENEAS.

Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not
afield?

Tro. Because not there; This woman's answer
sorts, 11)

For womanish it is to be from thence.
What news, Æneas, from the field to-day?
Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Tro. By whom, Æneas?
Ene.

Troilus, by Menelaus.
Tro. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn;

When I do tell thee, There my hopes lie drown'd, || Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.

Reply not in how many fathoms deep

They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad

In Cressid's love: Thou answer'st, She is fair;
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart

Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice;
Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,
In whose comparison all whites are ink,
Writing their own reproach; To whose soft seizure
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman!") This thou
tell'st me,

As true thou tell'st me, when I say
I love her;
But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.

Pan. I speak no more than truth.
Tro. Thou dost not speak so much.
Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as
she is: if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an
she be not, she has the mends 10) in her own hands.
Tro. Good Pandarus! how now, Pandarus?
Pan. I have had my labour for my travel; ill-
thought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone
between and between, but small thanks for my labour.
Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what,
with me?

Pan. Because she is 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 blacka-moor; 'tis 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

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[Alarum. Ene. Hark! what good sport is out of town to-day! Tro. Better at home, if would I might, were

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Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXander.
Cres. Who were those went by?
Alex.
Queen Hecuba, and Helen.
Cres. And whither go they?
Alex.
Up to the eastern tower,
Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
To see the battle. Hector, whose patience
Is, as a virtue fix'd, to-day was mov'd:
He chid Andromache and struck his armourer;
And, like as there were husbandry in war, 12)
Before the sun rose, he was harness'd light,
And to the field goes he; where every flower
Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw
In Hector's wrath.
Cres.
What was his cause of anger?
Alex. The noise goes, this: There is among the
Greeks

A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
They call him, Ajax.
Cres.
Good; And what of him?
Alex. They say he is a very man per se,
And stands alone.
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; 3) 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, 14) his folly

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave sauced with discretion: there is no man hath a virall as I found it, and there an end.

[Exit PANDARUS.

An Alarum.

Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude

sounds!

Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;

It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.

tue 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: 15) 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.

Cres. But how should this man, that makes me

But, Pandarus O gods, how do you plague me! smile, make Hector angry?

I cannot come to Cressid, but by Pandar;
And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo,

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 is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I waking.

Enter PANDARUS.

Cres. Who comes here?

Alex. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.

Cres. Hector's a gallant man.

Alex. As may be in the world, lady. Pan. What's that? what's that?

Cres. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.

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Pan. Good morrow, cousin Cressid: What do you talk of? Good morrow, Alexander. 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. E'en so; Hector was stirring early.

Cres. That were we talking of, and of his anger. 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 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?

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, 16) indeed.

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Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him the other day into the compassed window, and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.

Cres. Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic 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.

Cres. Is he so young a man, and so old a lifter? 19) 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. Does he not?

Cres. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.
Pan. Why, go to then; But to prove to you

Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of that Helen loves Troilus,

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Cres. So he is. Pan.

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Cres. With mill-stones.

Pan. And Cassandra laughed.

'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to India. cuba laughed, that her eyes ran o'er. Cres. 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 in her body! No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.

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Cres. "Twould not become him, his own's better. 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.

Pan. 'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
Cres. To say the truth, true and not true.
Pan. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
Cres. Why, Paris hath colour enough.
Pan. So he has.

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,

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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.

Cres. At what was all this laughing?

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 much at the hair, as at his 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. 19) 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. [4 Retreat sounded. Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field: Shall we stand up here, and see them, as they pass toward Ilium? Good niece, do; sweet niece Cressida. Cres. 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.

ENBAS passes over the Stage.

Cres. Speak not so loud.

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PARIS passes over.

Pan. Swords? any thing, he cares not: an the devil come to him, it's all one: By God's lid, it does one's heart good: Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris: look ye yonder, niece; Is't not a gallant man too, is't not? Why, this is brave now. Who said, he came hurt home to-day? 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?

is:

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HELENUS passes over.

-

Pan. That's Helenus, - I marvel, where Troilus That's Helenus; I think he went not forth to-day: That's Helenus.

Cres. Can Helenus fight, uncle? Pan. Helenus? no;

well:

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yes, he'll fight indifferent Hark; do Helenus

I marvel, where Troilus is! you not hear the people cry, Troilus?

is a priest.

Cres. What sneaking fellow comes yonder?

TROILUS passes over.

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Pan. Mark him; note him; O brave Troilus! Look well upon him, niece; look you, how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hack'd 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 an eye 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.

Pan. Achilles? a drayman, a porter, a very camel.
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 such like, the spice and salt that season a man?

Cres. Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked with no date in the pye, 21) for then the man's date is out.

-

Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you lie. 22)

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 is past watching.

Pan. You are such another!

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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. [Exit PANDARUS. Words, vows, griefs, tears, and love's full sacrifice, He offers in another's enterprize : 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

Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is:

Pan. Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus: "Tis Troi-That she was never yet, that ever knew

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