תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

Pan. What's that? what's that?

Cre. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.

Pan. 5 Good morrow, coufin Creffid: what do you talk of? Good morrow, Alexander.-How do you coufin? when were you at 6 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,
Pan. Was he angry?

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 takeheed of Troilus; I can tell them that too.

Cre. What is he angry too?

Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man o' the two.

5 Good morrow coufin, Creffid: what do you talk of? Good MOTTO, ALEXANDER.-How do you, coufin?-] Geod morrow, Alexander, is added in all the editions, fays Mr. Pope, very abfurdly, Paris not being on the ftage.-Wonderful acuteness! But, with fubmiffion, this gentleman's note is much more abfurd; for it falls out very unluckily for his remark, that though Paris is, for the generality, in Homer called Alexander; yet, in this play, by any one of the characters introduced, he is called nothing but Paris. The truth of the fact is this: Pandarus is of a bufy, impertinent, infinuating character; and it is natural for him, fo foon as he has given his cousin the goodmorrow, to pay his civilities too to her attendant. This is purely, 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. becaufe we have had Alexander the Great, Pope Alexander, and Alexander Pope, would not have fo eminent a name prostituted to a common var!et.

THEOBALD.

Ilium ? Was the palace of Troy. JOHNSON.

Cre.

Cre. Oh, Jupiter! there's no comparison. Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man, if you fee him?

Cre, Ay, if I ever faw him before, and knew him. Pan. Well, I fay, Troilus is Troilus.

Cre. Then you fay as I fay; for I am fure he is not Hector.

Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in fome degrees.

Cre. 'Tis juft to each of them. He is himself. Pan. Himself? alas, poor Troilus! I would he

were

Cre. So he is.

Pan.

'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to India. Cre. He is not Hector.

Pan. Himfelf? No, he's not himself.-'Would he 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.

Cre. Excufe me.
Pan. He is elder,

Cre. Pardon me, pardon me.

Pan. The other's not come to't; you fhall tell me another tale, when the other's come to't.

not have his wit this year.

Hector fhall

Cre. He fhall not need it, if he have his own,
Pan. Nor his qualities.

Cre. No matter.

Pan. Nor his beauty.

Cre. "Twould not become him; his own's better. Pan. You have no judgment, niece. Helen herfelf fwore the other day, that Troilus for a brown favour (for fo 'tis, I must confefs)-Not brown neither

Cre. No, but brown,

Pan. 'Faith, to fay truth, brown and not brown. Cre. To lay the truth, true and not true.

Pan.

Pan. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
Cre. Why, Paris hath colour enough.

Pan. So he has.

Cre. Then Troilus fhould have too much: if fhe prais'd him above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as lieve Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose.

Pan. I fwear to you, I think, Helen loves him better than Paris.

Cre. Then fhe's a merry Greek, indeed.

Pan. Nay, I am fure fhe does. She came to him the other day into the 7 compafs-window, and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.

Cre. Indeed a tapfter's arithmetick may foon 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. Cre. Is he fo young a man, and fo old a lifter? Pan. But to prove to you that Helen loves him, fhe came and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin. Cre. Juno, have mercy! How came it cloven? Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think his fmiling becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia.

Cre. Oh, he fmiles valiantly.

Pan. Does he not?

Cre. O yes; an 'twere a cloud in autumn.

7-compass-window,-] The compass-window is the fame as the bow-window. JOHNSON.

3fo old a lifter?] The word lifter is ufed for a thief, by Green, in his Art of Coney-catching, printed 1591: on this the humour of the paffage may be fuppofed to turn. We ftill call a perfon who robs the fhops, a fhop-lifter. Jonfon ufes the expreffion in Cynthia's Revels:

"One other peculiar virtue you poffefs is, lifting."

[blocks in formation]

STEEVENS.

Pan

Pan. Why, go to thef:-But to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus

Cre. Troilus will ftand to the proof, if you'll prove it fo.

Pan. Troilus? why he efteems her no more than I efteem an addle egg.

Cre. If you love an addle egg, as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i' the fhell.

Pan. I cannot chufe but laugh to think how fhe tickled his chin; indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confefs.

Cre. Without the rack.

Pan. And fhe takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.

Cre. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.

Pan. But there was fuch laughing. Queen Hecuba laugh'd, that her eyes ran o'er.

Cre. With mill-ftones.

Pan. And Caffandra laugh'd.

Cre. But there was more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes: did her eyes run o'er too? Pan. And Hector laught.

Cre. At what was all this laughing?

Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen fpied on Troilus chin.

Cre. An't had been a green hair, I fhould have laugh'd too.

Pan. They laugh'd not fo much at the hair, as at his pretty anfwer.

Cre. What was his anfwer?

Pan. Quoth fhe, here's but one-and-fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white.

Cre. This is her queftion.

Pan. That's true; make no queftion of that. 9 Oneand-fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white; that white

9 Two-and-fifty hairs,-] I have ventured to fubftitute oneand-fifty, I think, with fome certainty. How elfe can the number make out Priam and his fifty fons? THEOBALD.

hair is my father, and all the reft are his fons. Jupiter! quoth fhe, which of these hairs is Paris, my hufband? The forked one, quoth he; pluck it out and give it him. But there was fuch laughing, and Helen fo blush'd, and Paris fo chaf'd, and all the reft fo laugh'd, that it past.

Cre. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by.

Pan. Well, coufin, I told you a thing yesterday. Think on't.

Cre. So I do.

Pan. I'll be fworn 'tis true; he will weep you, an 'twere a man born in April. [Sound a retreat: Cre. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle against May.

Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field: fhall we ftand up here, and fee them, as they pafs towards Ilium? Good niece, do: fweet niece Creffida.

Cre. 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 pafs by; but mark Troilus above the reft.

Eneas paffes over the stage.

Cre. Speak not fo loud.

Pan. That's Æneas; is not that a brave man? he's one of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you; but mark Troilus;, you fhall fee anon.

Cre. Who's that?

[blocks in formation]

Antenor paffes over.

That's Antenor; he has a fhrewd wit, I can and he's a man good enough: he's one o' the

That's Antenor; he has a fhrewd wit,-]

"Anthenor was

foundest

"Copious in words, and one that much time spent
To jeft, when as he was in companie,
"So driely, that no man could it efpie;

B 2

"And

« הקודםהמשך »