Troi. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the boulting; but you muft tarry, the Pan. Ay, to the leav'ning: 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. Troi. Patience herfelf, what Goddess e'er the be, Doth leffer blench at fufferance, than I do. At Priam's royal table do I fit; And when fair Crefid comes into my thoughts, So, traitor! when fhe comes? when is fhe thence? Pan. Well, fhe look'd yefternight fairer than ever I faw her look, or any woman elfe. Troi. I was about to tell thee, when my heart, But forrow, that is couch'd in feeming gladness, 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, fhe is my kinfwoman; I would not (as they term it) praise her but I would, fomebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did: I will not difpraise your fifter Caffandra's wit, but, Troi. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus When I do tell thee, there my hopes lye drown'd, They lye indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gate, her voice; Writing their own reproach) to whose soft seizure (As, (As, true thou tell'ft me ;) when I fay, I love her: Thou lay'ft, in every gash that love hath given me, Pan. I fpeak no more than truth. Troi. Thou doft not speak fo much.. Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as fhe is, if the be fair, 'tis the better for her; an fhe be not, she has the mends in her own hands. Troi. 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. Troi. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me? Pan. Because she's kin to me, therefore fhe's not so fair as Helen; and 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 fhe were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.. Troi. Say I, fhe 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 fo I'll tell her the next time I fee her: for my part,. I'll meddle nor make no more i' th' matter.. Troi. Pandarus, Pan. Not I. Troi, Sweet Pandarus, Pan. Pray you, fpeak no more to me; I will leave all! as I found it, and there's an end. [Exit Pandarus. [Sound Alarum. Troi. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude founds! Fools on both fides,-Helen muft needs be fair, It is too ftarv'd a subject for my fword: But Pandarus Gods! how do you plague me !! Between Between our Ilium, and where the refides, Ene.How now, Prince Troilus? wherefore not i'th'field? Troi. Because not there; this woman's answer forts, For womanish it is to be from thence: What news, Eneas, from the field to day? Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt. Ene. Troilus, by Menelaus. Troi. Let Paris bleed, 'tis but a fear to scorn: Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum. Ene. Hark, what good fport is out of town to day? Troi. Better at home, if would I might, were may But to the fport abroad Ene. In all swift hafte. -are you bound thither? Troi. Come, go we then together. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to a publick Street, near the Walls of Troy. Enter Creffida, and Alexander, her Servant. Cre. WHO were those went by? Ser. Queen Hecuba and Helen. Cre. And whither go they? Ser. Up to th' eastern tower, Whose height commands as fubject all the vale, And (2) Before the Sun rofe, be was harnest light,] Why harnest light? Does the Poet mean, that Hedor had put on light Armeur ? Or that he was sprightly in his Arms, even before Sun And to the field goes he; where ev'ry flower In Hector's wrath. Cre. What was his caufe of anger? Ser. The noise goes thus; There is among the Greeks A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector, They call him Ajax. Cre. Good; and what of him? Ser. They fay, he is a very man per fe, and stands alone. Cre. So do all men,, unless they are drunk, fick, or have no legs. Ser. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their particular additions; he is as valiant as the lyon, churlish as the bear, flow as the elephant; a man into whom Nature hath fo crouded humours, that his valour is crusht: into folly, his folly fauced with discretion: there is no man hath a virtue, that he has not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, but he carries fome ftain of it. He is melancholy without caufe, and merry against the hair he hath the joints of every thing, but every thing fo out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no ufe; or purblind Argus, all eyes and no fight. Gre. But how fhould this man, that makes me fmile, make Hector angry? Ser. They fay, he yesterday cop'd Hector in the battleand ftruck him down, the difdain and fhame whereof hath ever fince kept Hector fafting and waking. Enter Pandarus. Cre. Who comes here ? rife? Or is a Conundrum aim'd at, in Sun rofe, and harneft* light? A very flight Alteration makes all these Constructions unneceffary, and gives us the Poet's meaning in the propereft Terms imaginable. Before the Sun rofe, be was harness-dight, i. e. compleatly dreft, accoutred, in Arms. It is frequent with our Poet, from his Masters Chaucer and Spenfer, to fay dight for deck'd; pight, for pitch'd; &c. and from them too he ufes Harnefs for Armour, Ser. Ser. Madam, your uncle Pandarus. Cre, Hector's a gallant man. Ser. As may be in the world, lady. Cre. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus. Pan. Good morrow, coufin Creffid; what do you talk of? (3) Good morrow, Alexander ;- how do you, coufin? when were you at Ilium? Cre. This morning, uncle. Pan. What were you talking of, when I came? was Hector arm'd and gone, ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up? was fhe? Cre. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up. Pan. E'en fo; Hector was ftirring early.. Cre. That were we talking of, and of his anger. Cre. So he fays, here. Pan. True, he was fo; I know the caufe 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. (3) Good morrow, coufin Creffid; What do you talk of? Good morrow, ALEXANDER ; How do you, coufin ?] Good morrow, Alexander is added in all the Editions, fays Mr. Pope, very abfurdly, Paris not being on the Stage. Wonderful Acutenefs! But, with Submiffion, this Gentleman's Note is much more abfurd: for it falls out very unluckily for his Remark, that tho' Paris is for the Generality, in Homer call'd Alexander; yet, in this Play, by any one of the Characters introduc'd, he is call'd nothing but Paris. The Truth of the Fact is this. Pandarus is of a busy, impertinent, infinuating Character; and 'tis natural for him, fo foon as he has given his Coufin the good morrow, to pay his Civilities too to her Attendant. This is purely 've, as the Grammarians call it; and gives us an admirable Touch of Pandarus's Character. And why might not Alexander be the Name of Creffid's Man? Paris had no Patent, I fuppofe, for engroffing it to himself. But the late Editor, perhaps, because we have had Alexander the Great, Pope Alexander, and Alexander Pope, would not bave fo eminent a Name prostituted to a common Valet. Cre. |