Antenor,

Calchas, a Trojan prieft, taking part with the Greeks. Pandarus, Uncle to Creffida.

Margarelon, a baftard fon of Priam.

Agamemnon, the Grecian General :

Menelaus, his brother.

Therfites, a deformed and fcurrilous Grecian.

Alexander, fervant to Creffida.

Servant to Troilus; Servant to Paris; Servant to Dio

medes.

Helen, wife to Menelaus..

Andromache, wife to Hector.

Caffandra, daughter to Priam; a Prophetess.

Creffida, daughter to Calchas.

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants.

SCENE, Troy, and the Grecian Camp before it.

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

Tro.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Troy. Before Priam's Palace.

Enter TROILUS arm'd, and PANDARUS.

ALL here my varlet', I'll unarm again:
Why fhould I war without the walls of Troy,

CA

That find fuch cruel battle here within?

Each Trojan, that is mafter 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,

2

Tamer than fleep, fonder than ignorance;

Lefs valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skill-lefs3 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 tarry'd ?

Pan.

I This word anciently fignified a fervant or footman to a knight or warrior.

2.

fonder] i. e. more weak, or foolish.

3 Mr. Dryden, in his alteration of this play, has taken this fpeech as it ftands, except that he has changed fkilllefs to artless, not for the better, because fkill lefs refers to kill and skilful. JOHNSON.

A very fond and skill-lefs Remarker on this note, afks, "and does not artless refer to art and artful ?” Where will he find art and artful in this paffage? The other words mentioned by Dr. Johnson have occurred before. MALONE.

Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the boult ing.

Tro. Have I not tarry'd?

Pan. Ay, the boulting; but you must tarry the leavening.

Tro. Still have I tarry'd.

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 ftay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips.

Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,

Doth leffer blench 4 at fufferance than I do.

At Priam's royal table do I fit;

And when fair Creffid comes into my thoughts,

So, traitor!-when fhe comes!-When is fhe thence? Pan. Well, the look'd yefter-night fairer than ever I faw her look; or any woman else.

Tro. I was about to tell thee,-When my heart,
As wedged with a figh, would rive in twain;
Left Hector or my father fhould perceive me,
I have (as when the fun doth light a ftorm)
Bury'd this figh in wrinkle of a smile:

But forrow, that is couch'd in feeming gladness,
Is like that mirth fate turns to fudden fadness.

Pan. An her hair were not fomewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to,) there were no more comparison between the women,-But, for my part, fhe is my kinf woman; I would not, as they term it, praise her, - But I would fomebody had heard her talk yefterday, as I did. I will not difpraise your fifter Caffandra's wit: but

Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,-
When I do tell thee, There my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep

They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
In Creffid's love: Thou anfwer'ft, She is fair;
Pour'ft in the open ulcer of my heart

Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice;

4 To blench is to shrink, ftart, or fly off.

Handleft

Handleft in thy difcourfe, O, that her hand,
In whofe comparison all whites are ink,

Writing their own reproach; to whofe foft feizure
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of fenfe
Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'ft me,
As true thou tell'ft me, when I fay-I love her;
But, faying thus, inftead of oil and balm,

Thou lay'it in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.

Pan. I fpeak no more than truth.

Tro. Thou doft not speak fo much.

Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as the is: if he be fair, 'tis the better for her; an fhe be not, fhe has the mends 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 fmall thanks for my labour.

Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me? Pan. Because fhe is kin to me, therefore fhe's not fo fair as Helen: an fhe were not kin to me, fhe would be as fair on friday, as Helen is on funday. But what care I? I care not, an fhe were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one

to me.

Tro. Say I, fhe is not fair?

Pan. I do not care whether you do or no.

She's a

5 Handleft is here ufed metaphorically, with an allufion at the fame time to its literal meaning; and the jingle between hand and bandleft is perfectly in our authour's manner. The beauty of a female hand feems to have made a strong impreffion on his mind.

6 In comparison with Creffida's band, fays he, the fpirit of fenfe, the utmost degree, the most exquifite power of fenfibility, which implies a foft hand, fince the fenfe of touching, as Scaliger fays in his Exercitations, refides chiefly in the fingers, is hard as the callous and infenfible palm of the ploughman. Warburton reads :— - fpite of fenfe: Hanmer, to th' spirit of fenfe. It is not proper to make a lover profefs to praife his miftrefs in fpite of enfe; for though he often does it in fpite of the sense of others, his own fenfes are subdued to his defires. JOHNSON.

7 She may mend her complexion by the affiftance of cofmeticks. VOL. VI.

fool,

fool, to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and fo I'll tell her, the next time I fee her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter.

Tro. Pandarus,

Pan. Not I.

Tro. Sweet Pandarus,

Pan. Pray you, fpeak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.

Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude

founds!

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

It is too ftarv'd a subject for my fword.
But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Creffid, but by Pandar;
And he's as teachy to be woo'd to woo,
As she is stubborn-chafte against all fuit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Creffid is, what Pandar, and what we?
Her bed is India; there fhe lies, a pearl:
Between our Ilium3, and where the refides,
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood;
Ourfelf, the merchant; and this failing Pandar,
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

Alarum. Enter ÆNEAS.

Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield? Tro. Because not there; This woman's answer forts,

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.

8 Ilium or Ilion (for it is fpelt both ways) was according to Lydgate and the authour of the Defruction of Troy, the name of Priam's pa-lace, which is faid by thefe writers to have been built upon a high rock.