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mine honour in, and let them win the work: The devil was amongst them, I think, surely.
Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the Tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of them in limbo patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days; besides the running banquet of two beadles,2 that is to come.
Enter the Lord Chamberlain.
Cham. Mercy o'me, what a multitude are here!
There's a trim rabble let in: Are all these
Port. You i'the camblet, get up o'the rail; I'll pick4 you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Palace. Enter trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk, with his marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls, for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the Child, richly habited in a mantle, &c. Train borne by a Lady; then follows the Marchioness of Dorset, the other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks.
With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
(1) Place of confinement.
K. Hen. My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal:
I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady,
In her days, every man shall eat in safety
That were the servants to this chosen infant,
Gart. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth.
Shall see this, and bless Heaven.
Flourish. Enter King, and Train.
Cran. [Kneeling.] And to your royal grace, and 'Would I had known no more! but she must die, the good queen,
She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin,
My noble partners, and myself, thus pray :-
To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her.
K. Hen. Thank you, good lord archbishop;
Stand up, lord.-
Thou hast made me now a man; never, before
(6) This and the following seventeen lines were probably written by B. Jonson, after the accession of king James.
I have receiv'd much honour by your presence; For such a one we show'd them: If they smile, And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way,|| And say, 'twill do, I know, within a while
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap, Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye, ||If they hold, when their ladies bid them clap. 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. (Exeunt.
The play of Henry the Eighth is one of those EPILOGUE.
which still keeps possession of the stage by the
splendor of its pageantry. The coronation, about "TIS ten to one, this play can never please forty years ago, drew the people together in multiAll that are here: Some come to take their ease, tudes for a great part of the winter. And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear, not the only merit of this play. The meek sorrows, We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear, and virtuous distress, of Katharine, have furnished They'll say, 'tis naught: others, to hear the city some scenes, which may be justly numbered among Abus'd extremely, and to cry, that's witty! the greatest efforts of tragedy. But the genius of Which we have not done neither: that, I fear, Shakspeare comes in and goes out with Katharine. All the expected good we are like to hear Every other part may be easily conceived and easily For this play at this time, is only in
written. The merciful construction of good women;
Yet pomp is
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.
PERSONS REPRESENTED. Priam, King of Troy.
|Thersites, a deformed and scurrilous Grecian. Hector,
Alexander, servant to Cressida. Troilus,
Servant to Troilus; Servant to Paris ; Servant to Paris, his sons.
Helen, wife to Menelaus.
Andromache, wife to Hector.
Cressida, daughter to Calchas.
Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants.
Scene, Troy, and the Grecian Camp before it.
ACT І. IN Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of|| SCENE 1.-Troy. Before Priam's palace. EnGreece
ter Troilus armed, and Pandarus.
CALL here my varlet, I'll unarm again :
Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none. With wanton Paris sleeps; And that's the quarrel. Pan. Will this geero ne'er be mended ? To Tenedos they come ;
Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
strength, Their warlike fraughtage :Now on Dardan plains Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant ; The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch But I am weaker than a woman's tear, Their brave pavilions : Priam's six-gated city, Tamer than sleep, fonder? than ignorance; Dardan, and Tymbria, Ilias, Chetas, Trojan, Less valiant than the virgin in the night, And Antenorides, with massy staples,
And skill-less as unpractis'd infancy. And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this : for Sperr3 up the sons of Troy.
my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He, Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry On one and other side, Trojan and Greek, the grinding. Sets all on hazard :- And hither am I come
Tro. Have I not tarried ? A prologue arm’d,—but not in confidence
Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the Of author's pen, or actor's voice; but suited bolting. In like conditions as our argument, —.
Tro. Have I not tarried ? To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Pan. Ay, the bolting ; but you must tarry the Leaps o'er the vaunt4 and firstlings of those broils, leavening. 'Ginning in the middle; starting thence away Tro. Still have I tarried. To what may be digested in a play.
Pan. Ay, to the leavening : but here's yet in the Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are; word-hereafter, the kneading, the making of the Now, good, or bad, 'tis but the chance of war. cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking ; nay,
(1) Proud, disdainful. (2) Freight. (3) Shut. (4) Avaunt, what went before.
(5) A servant to a knight.
you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance || Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, to burn your lips.
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
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;
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,
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-
As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her;
Troilus, by Menelaus. Tro. Let Paris bleed: 'Tis but a scar to scorn; Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. Alarum. Ene. Hark! what good sport is out of town today!
Tro. Better at home, if would I might, were
Cres. Who were those went by?
Tro. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus? Pan. I have had my labour for my travail; ill-Before the sun rose, he was harness'd light, thought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone And to the field goes he; where every flower between and between, but small thanks for my la-Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw In Hector's wrath.
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; 'tis all one to me.
Pan. I speak no more than truth.
Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is if she be fair, 'tis better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.
Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield?
Tro. Because not there; This woman's answer sorts,3
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
For womanish it is to be from thence.
Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
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
Pan. Not I.
Tro. Sweet Pandarus,-
Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will he hath not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, leave all as I found it, and there an end. but he carries some stain of it: he is melancholy [Exit Pandarus. An Alarum.without cause, and merry against the hair: Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, hath the joints of every thing: but every thing so rude sounds!
(2) Split. (3) Suits.
(4) By himself.
Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees.
Cres. 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.
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 own.
Cres. No matter.
Pan. Nor his beauty.
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
Cres. O yes, an 'twere 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'll 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.
Cres. So he is.
Pan. 'Condition, I had gone barefoot to India. || Hecuba laughed, that her eyes ran o'er.
Cres. With mill-stones.3
Pan. And Cassandra laughed.
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. 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. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.
Cres. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.
Pan. Quoth she, Here's but one and fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white. Čres. 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
(1) Bow. (2) Thief. (3) A proverbial saying. such laughing! and Helen so blushed, and Paris