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There can be little doubt that Shakspere had before him Caxton's translation of the Recuyel of the Historyes of Troy,' and there the names of the gates are thus given: "In this cittie were sixe principall gates: of which the one was named Dardane, the second Tymbria, the thyrd Helias, the fourth, Chetas, the fifth Troyan, and the sixt Antenorides." But he was also familiar with the Troy Boke' of Lydgate, in which the six gates are described as Dardanydes, Tymbria, Helyas, Cetheas, Trojana, Anthonydes. It is difficult

And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
Sperr up the sons of Troy.
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,°-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 and firstlings of those broils,
Beginning 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, 't is but the chance of war.

to say whether Shakspere meant to take the Antenorides of Caxton, or the Anthonydes of Lydgate; or whether, the names being pure inventions of the middle age of romancewriters, he deviated from both. As it is, we have retained the Antenorides of the modern editors.

a Fulfilling. The verb fulfil is here used in the original sense of fill full.

b Sperr up. The original has stirre up, which Tieck considers preferable to Theobald's substitution of sperr up. Desirous as we are to hold to the original, we cannot agree with Tieck. The relative positions of each force are contrasted. The Greeks pitch their pavilions on Dardan plains; the Trojans are shut up in their six-gated city. The commentators give us examples of the use of sperr, in the sense of to fasten, by Spenser and earlier writers. They have overlooked a passage in Chaucer's Troilus and Cressida (book v.), which Shakspere must have had before him in the composition of his play :

For when he saw her dorés sperred all,

Wel nigh for sorrow adoun he gan to fall."

e Arm'd. Johnson has pointed out that the prologue was spoken by one of the characters in armour. This was noticed, because in general the speaker of the Prologue wore a black cloak. (See Collier's Annals of the Stage,' (vol. iii, p. 442.)

d Vaunt-the van.

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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 gear 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 than ignorance,

a Varlet-a servant. Tooke considers that varlet and valet are the same; and that, as well as harbot, they mean hireling.

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 farther. He that will have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.

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

a Needs is not found in the quarto, and is consequently omitted in all modern editions.

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 ?

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,-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,— When I do tell thee, there my bopes lie drown'd, 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

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a This line as it stands is an ingenious and tasteful correction by Rowe. The line in both the originals appears thus:

"So (traitor) then she comes when she is thence."

b We do not receive this passage as an interjection beginning "O! that her hand;" for what does Troilus desire? -the wish is incomplete. The meaning we conceive to be rather, in thy discourse thou handlest that hand of hers, in whose comparison, &c.

c Johnson explains spirit of sense as the most exquisite sensibility of touch.

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 't is the better for her; an she be not she has the mends in her own hands.

Tro. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus? Pan. I have had my labour for my travail; 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 black-a-moor; '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,Pan. Not I.

Tro. Sweet Pandarus,

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave all 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.
But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;
And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo,
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


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?

Troilus, by Menelaus.
Tro. Let Paris bleed: 't is but a scar to scorn;
Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.


Ene. Hark! what good sport is out of town to-day!

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and no use; or purblinded Argus, all eyes and
no sight.

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

Tro. Better at home, if 'would I might' fasting and waking.

were 'may.'But to the sport abroad:--. thither?

-Are you bound

Ene. In all swift haste.

Come, go we then together.

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Cres. And whither go they?

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,
Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,
where every flower
And to the field goes
Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw
In Hector's wrath.


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.



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; 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 everything; but everything so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands G 2


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.
Pan. Good morrow, cousin Cressid: What do
you talk of ?-Good morrow, Alexander.-How
do you, cousin? When were you at Ilium?1
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

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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.

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

Cres. 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.

Pan. Himself? Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were.

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Pan. 'Condition, I had gone barefoot to India.

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.

Cres. Excuse me.

Pan. He is elder.

Cres. Pardon me, pardon me.

Pan. The other's not come to 't; you shall tell me another tale when the other's come to 't. Hector shall not have his wit this year.

Cres. He shall not need it, if he have his


Pan. Nor his qualities;-

Cres. No matter.

Pan. Nor his beauty.

Cres. "T would 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 't is, 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, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I 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, indeed. Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him the other day into the compassed window,b -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 ?

a Wit. This is Rowe's correction: both the old copies have will.

b Compassed window-a bow-window.

e Lifter-thief. We still say a shoplifter.

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, 't is 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 't were a cloud in autumn. Pan. Why, go to then.-But to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus,

Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'l prove it so.

Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg.

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

Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled his chin!-Indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess.

Cres. Without the rack.

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

Cres. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer. Pan. But there was such laughing ;—Queen Hecuba laughed, that her eyes ran o'er.

Cres. With mill-stones.

Pan. And Cassandra laughed.

Cres. But there was 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 two and fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white.' Cres. This is her question.

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