Nor his beauty.
CRESSIDA. 'Twould not become him: his own's better.
PANDARUS. YOU have no judgment, niece. Helen herself swore th'
other day that Troilus, for a brown favour, for so 'tis, I
must
confess- not brown neither-
CRESSIDA. No, but brown.
PANDARUS. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
CRESSIDA. To say the truth, true and not true.
PANDARUS. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
CRESSIDA. Why, Paris hath colour enough.
PANDARUS. So he has.
CRESSIDA. Then Troilus should have too much. If she prais'd him
above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour
enough, and the other higher, is too flaming praise for a
good
complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended
Troilus for a copper nose.
PANDARUS. I swear to you I think Helen loves him better than
Paris.
CRESSIDA. Then she's a merry Greek indeed.
PANDARUS. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other
day
into the compass'd window-and you know he has not past three
or
four hairs on his chin-
CRESSIDA. Indeed a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his
particulars therein to a total.
PANDARUS. Why, he is very young, and yet will he within three
pound
lift as much as his brother Hector.
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